#sleepyfireball

[lifesizehysteria]

A lil present for you

Ooooh! Some of my favorites! She’s so stunning, my god, it should be illegal. Thank you for taking time, I’m sure it was a difficult task. 🤭

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 3: Keeping Up Appearances

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I am so sorry that this is like half a week late, life really got me. The next chapter should be out on Wednesday, fingers crossed. Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

As Francesca walked off after Lord Kilmartin, following his attempt to tell them all the story of his muddy boots, Violet slumped. She could see that Francesca was happy, but she just was not certain that he was the right person for her.

“What do you think?” Violet leaned in toward Agatha, awaiting her counsel. As far as Violet was concerned, Agatha was almost as perceptive as she was when it came to her children’s love lives and, Violet could admit to herself, she wanted Agatha’s approval.

“They are rather… similar” Agatha responded. Violet sighed. Their similarity was what worried her.

“Yes, but do you not think that Francesca could, in fact, use someone to bring her out of her shell? And given that the Queen is opposed…” Violet was worried about the Queen’s response, particularly after her children’s history of refusing the Queen’s matches.

“Oh! So much so it may have inspired her Whistledown reward today.” Agatha responded. Oh, wonderful. Violet pinched the bridge of her nose in some attempt to relax her mounting stress.

Anthony spoke up. “Perhaps, you should take the direct approach, for once.” Oh, because that ever worked, Violet thought to herself, turning toward him as he continued, “I know it is unlike you to cajole your children.”

She saw the smile threatening to burst onto her son’s face, “You mock me.” She replied, laughter lacing her tone.

“As you rightly mocked me all last season.”

Violet could not stop the shock showing on her face before she saw how much he was teasing and laughed quickly, turning away briefly. In doing so, she made eye contact with Lady Featherington, who waved brightly. Internally, Violet rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as she excused herself from Agatha and Lord Anderson, moving over to Lady Featherington.

“There you are, Lady Bridgerton. We keep missing one another.” Both ladies were quite jovial as they spoke.

“Duty of a hostess, I am afraid.” Co-hostess, verging on hostess in name only, but that would not excuse my refusal to speak with her, Violet thought internally.

“Well understood.” Lady Featherington responded. Violet hummed in agreement, allowing an uncomfortable silence to sweep over them. 

The clinking of a spoon on a glass broke the silence and Violet turned to see Colin proposing a toast. As Colin spoke, Violet allowed her thoughts to wander. She knew, logically, that Lady Featherington was going to be her family now, but that did not mean that it was any easier for her to handle a conversation with the woman. Knowing how much Penelope had struggled to thrive under Lady Featherington’s tutelage did not make it any easier for Violet, who had, some days, wanted nothing more than to take the girl into her house and protect her from the world, like she tried to do with all her children. However, seeing as they were being publicly joined, it was up to Violet to swallow her feelings and appear as a cohesive unit.

Violet was pulled out of her reverie by the clink of spoon on glass once more, this time by Eloise. Oh, this cannot be good. After Eloise’s response to the engagement, Violet had tried, several times, to speak to Eloise about whatever had come between her and Penelope, but her daughter refused to speak about it, to anyone. Violet paid attention as Eloise gave her toast.

“Congratulations to you both. Here is to truly knowing each other. Completely. Before the clock runs out.” Violet looked over to Penelope, who looked worried and perhaps scared, and she gave her daughter a piercing glare that said ‘be nice’. The glare worked and Eloise continued, clearing her throat. “The clock of life, of course. Ticks for us all. To your good health!” Violet could hear how strained Eloise’s voice was, but she dropped the matter in favour of taking the one small reprieve she had granted her. At least Eloise had not forgotten her manners completely.

“Thank you, Eloise, I--” Colin sounded perplexed, but it did not last long as Lady Featherington spoke up from next to Violet.

“I should like to add… how proud I am of my lovely daughter, Penelope.” Mentally, Violet’s eyebrows rose, but outwardly, she chuckled in support of Penelope, who looked like pride was the last thing she expected from her mother. “To the match of the season,” Violet laughed genuinely, agreeing with Lady Featherington for once, who finished her toast, “And to the Featherington-Bridgerton family.” Lady Featherington chuckled and Violet toasted quickly before taking a long drink from her champagne flute.

Violet overheard Benedict turn to his guest and say “I cannot tell if this party needs stronger drinks or weaker ones.” Violet agreed with the former, as she finished her glass, needing the fortification for the coming night and the coming life she would spend being linked to Lady Featherington.

“Now, perhaps, some dessert and charades, in the drawing room.” Kate spoke up, ever the consummate hostess. The assembly moved toward the drawing room. As they did so, Violet found herself face to face with Lord Anderson who simply smiled warmly and offered his arm to her as they ascended the staircase. She took it, smiling softly at him.

***

Once they reached the drawing room and everyone was seated comfortably, Violet and Lord Anderson stopped together, still arm in arm, to watch the charades. Anthony explained the rules and as Penelope stepped up, after being prompted by Kate, Violet turned to Lord Anderson, saying in hushed tones, “Penelope is quite good at this. We have had her play in many of our family charades games over the years. She and my daughter Eloise,” she indicated to where Eloise was standing near the wall, “are-- were quite close.”

Lord Anderson looked at her as he replied, “And now she is to be your daughter. You must be quite excited.”

“Indeed, I am. She and Colin are a fine pair.” Not to mention, not nearly as much hassle as my previous children’s matches. She looked over at Eloise as she completed Penelope’s charade before turning to Lord Anderson, saying, “While Colin may have been the first to meet Penelope, Eloise was the one to truly welcome Penelope into the family. The two have been inseparable ever since.”

The two paused their conversation to watch Eloise’s charade before Lord Anderson responded, “I cannot help but notice that they appear rather uncomfortable at the moment.” Violet looked at Lord Anderson, her eyes widening and her frame stiffening, shocked at his impropriety. However, she could not help but admire his perceptiveness as well. Lord Anderson looked slightly apprehensive as he waited for her response, turning back to the charades in case she did not take kindly to his assertions. She softened and turned to him.

“It-- They were close… until last year. I am not certain what has come between them, but I am… hopeful, that they will be able to sort it out before the wedding. The girls are like two peas in a pod, after all.” Lord Anderson turned toward Violet as she spoke, looking into her eyes. Violet trailed off uncertainly, stunned by his attentive gaze. She cleared her throat slightly and turned back towards the game to see Penelope’s charade being attempted by Miss Cowper.

She could feel Marcus’s elbow bracketing her side and she could not help from leaning in towards him slightly. She had not felt this kind of magnetic pull since she had been with Edmund, and she relished it, unable to keep the smile from her face. As Eloise successfully guessed friendship for Penelope’s charade, Violet nodded hesitantly, as she noticed that Lord Anderson did the same, now understanding as much as she did about their relationship.

The two stood happily together, watching the charades in companionable silence. Violet, however, found herself wishing that he would say something, anything, to break the silence. She wanted to get to know him more, but could not find the words. As they stood, he turned to her, quietly saying “I am quite parched. Would you like a drink as well?”

Violet turned to him. His voice was so melodic and she could almost get lost in it. “Yes,” was all that Violet could utter in her haze.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Lord Anderson touched her arm as he offered and Violet jumped slightly at the feeling. His hand was warm against her and it sent tingles up her arm.

“Oh, I-- That would be lovely.” He removed his arm and Violet came to her senses once more.

“Lemonade?” He asked. Violet turned toward the refreshments table and pointed as she responded.

“Yes, they’re just-- Just over there.” Violet watched Lord Anderson as he walked off, fiddling with her hands as she did. She smiled quietly, taking just a moment for herself before turning back to keep watching the charades alone. Well, if this isn’t a metaphor for my life, nothing is. She was surrounded by friends and family, but found herself alone. However, with Marcus, it was different. With Marcus, she did not feel so alone.

***

The moment Kate announced that she and Anthony were expecting was the last moment that Violet clearly remembered, when thinking back on the night of the engagement ball. She remembered being truly overjoyed for the pair, excited for them to experience the wonder that parenthood could be. After that, everything had happened entirely too quickly. Miss Cowper had announced her identity as Lady Whistledown, much to the shock of Violet and the other gathered guests and, of course, Penelope had fainted. Violet had rushed to get Mrs. Wilson, to get a doctor, to do something.

Despite Violet’s experience in dealing with sick children, she was at a loss of what to do. She settled to pacing quietly in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to arrive, which is exactly where Agatha found her ten minutes after Penelope had initially collapsed.

Ten steps up, ten steps back. Penelope will be okay, she must be. She is not Edmund; she will be okay. 

Violet was startled from her thoughts by a hand on her arm. Violet spun around, to find herself face to face with Agatha.

“Oh! I- I am just-- just waiting for the doctor to arrive. Someone should be here to…” Violet’s voice trailed off as she looked at Agatha timidly. “I-- There-- How is she?” Violet tried again, looking down at her fidgeting hands. Agatha’s eyes sought out her own, and when she finally met her gaze, Violet saw compassion there, so strikingly similar to her brother, not that she would admit that.

“Violet. Penelope is fine. She came around and she has had some water to drink, she will be okay.” Agatha said emphatically, keeping her hand on Violet’s arm. At the news, Violet allowed herself to deflate, all the frenetic energy leaving her body. Violet focused her attention on Agatha’s hand, allowing it to ground her. “She is okay.” Agatha repeated, likely seeing how it had soothed Violet to know that. Violet allowed the words to wash over her, to bring her out of her panic.

“Thank goodness for that, truly.” Violet took a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me know, Agatha.” Violet offered a small smile as she covered Agatha’s hand with her own.

“That is quite alright, Violet. Are you well?” Agatha looked concerned for Violet more than for Penelope, which, surely, did not make any sense.

“Yes, yes. I am fine, I was merely worried about her.”

“Violet, I found you pacing in the hallway and you had no idea I was coming, which is most unlike you. Here, come and sit.” With that, Agatha led Violet over to one of the benches that adorned the hallway and sat down. Violet sat down as well, her legs feeling jelly-like now that her energy had passed. “Now, Penelope will be quite all right. She is not Edmund. She is well. When I left, she was taking small sips of water at your son’s insistence.” Agatha placed an arm around Violet, who found herself needing to take deep breaths in order to avoid succumbing to the tears filling her eyes.

“I know that she is not Edmund… But… I just cannot help it. I could do nothing then and I could do nothing now. I did not wish for Colin to go through what I had to experience.” Violet continued to breathe deeply, trying to ground herself.

“Come. We shall go and see her and you can see that she is well for yourself.” Violet looked up at Agatha as she stood and offered her arm.

“Thank you, Agatha, truly.” Violet accepted her arm and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. She smiled sadly at Agatha, allowing herself to take strength from her dearest friend when she needed it. 

The two walked back toward the drawing room as if nothing was wrong. When they reached the drawing room and Violet saw Penelope sitting on one of the couches, she could not help the sigh of relief that she breathed. Violet looked at the assorted guests and saw only one pair of eyes focused on her, everyone else too focused on Penelope. Marcus looked at her with concern and compassion in his eyes. She smiled slightly and nodded to him, to show she was okay, as she slipped back into the role of co-hostess with Kate.

***

Mrs. Wilson had alerted Violet to the presence of a visitor in the entranceway the following morning, which led her to be caught off-guard when the visitor was none other than Marcus -Lord Anderson-, the very man who had been occupying her thoughts since the night before.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet said.

Hearing her voice, he turned away from the decorations that he had been examining on the side table and started walking towards her.

“Lady Bridgerton.” He said, and Violet bowed her head to him in greeting. “Forgive my intrusion. I simply forgot my, uh…” Lord Anderson trailed off as a footman approached. “Hat.” He finished, gesturing to the hat in the footman’s hands. They both chuckled at the impeccable timing, and Violet nodded in thanks to her footman. As Lord Anderson brushed his hat off, he did not make any movements to leave, so she took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Were you just, um…” Violet felt uncharacteristically nervous as she searched for the right words, “Passing by?” Lord Anderson laughed infectiously.

“Yes, I suppose I could have sent a footman to fetch this, could I not?” Violet laughed awkwardly. This conversation was not going the way she had wished. “But then I would not have been able to see you again.” 

Well, that was quite… forward. 

Violet allowed herself to preen slightly at his words. Lord Anderson was quite the flatterer, it appeared, as he continued. “Well, to thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

Violet stepped forward towards him, feeling that magnetic pull that she had felt last night as she carried on with the conversation. “Well, it was… quite a night. Was it not?” She cast about for the words as she spoke, returning her gaze to find that he had also taken steps toward her, leading him to be far closer than she had expected.

“How are you faring?” Lord Anderson asked. Violet was slightly thrown from his proximity and she took a moment before responding.

“Uh…” Well, that was eloquent. “Besides a bit of a headache, I am well.” She responded, laughing slightly. She watched Marcus and saw adoration reflected in his eyes. It threw her, having not been on the receiving end of such a gaze since Edmund had passed. Violet looked down, no longer able to withstand the weight of his gaze, searching for something to say, something to continue the conversation that she was so enjoying. “How are you?” Violet said genuinely, trying to convey her concern whilst still remaining polite.

Lord Anderson took a moment to respond, his smile hesitating. “I take it you sensed a chilly departure between my sister and me?” She had not intended to be quite so confrontational about it, but took the opportunity that presented itself.

“Perhaps. Though it is none of my business.” Violet was quick to assure Lord Anderson that he need not speak of anything he did not want to.

“I do believe we will work it out. Childhood grievances have a way of lingering. My sister was the first born.”

“But you were the first boy.” Violet interjected understandingly. Lord Anderson nodded.

“But we are adults now… Surely, there is a way forward.” Lord Anderson said, hopefully. Violet huffed a small laugh, knowing Agatha’s ability to hold a grudge.

“I have faith you will find a way.” Violet offered her support, not for one side or the other, but just for them both to move forward. So I might pursue a relationship with him while maintaining my closest friendship, her brain supplied traitorously.

“Thank you.” Lord Anderson smiled gratefully, “I shall let you nurse your headache in peace.” Violet took a few steps back, laughing, but with a tinge of sadness that he was ending the conversation. “But I do hope to see you soon.” With that simple sentence, her sadness left her and her heart bloomed with hope.

“As do I.” Violet allowed her hope and affection to shine through on her face, smiling as he left. She began to walk to the drawing room, looking back to where he had just left and smiled happily to herself. 

As Violet walked into the drawing room, she was shaken from her reverie, by hearing her children arguing over the macarons, but was too elated from her conversation with Lord Anderson to bother trying to break up the argument. Instead, she simply picked up her embroidery and sat down, mulling over her conversation.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Violet has a secret, but it will only stay that way if she can be quiet enough to keep it

WORD COUNT — 2.2K

WARNINGS — 18+ MDNI, oral sex (Violet recieving), pw/op (I mean there is kind of a plot, but it's so minimal)

NOTE — Okay this is just like a fully indulgent little snippet because let's be real who wouldn't want to be in a secret relationship with Violet. Special thanks to @sleepyfireball and @lifesizehysteria for both giving me the confidence to post this and helping me with the ending <3

Violet had never considered herself a woman of many secrets. Yes, there were some things in her life that remained private, but even then, they wouldn’t cause much of a fuss if they were brought to light. 

Recently, though, Violet had been keeping a secret. A big one. 

A secret, her only one that would surely scandalize the whole ton, but Violet, unlike her children, was a little more well versed in dealing with subtleties, with…avoiding scandal. 

“Mother?” 

She blinked away from her thoughts, seeing Benedict holding out his arm for her so she could exit the carriage. 

She gave him a small smile by way of apology and took his arm in hers, climbing out of the carriage and letting her second eldest son lead her into the home that this evening’s ball was being hosted in. 

As soon as they entered the large space, she didn’t even register going to find the host or taking in the decorations. Instead, she scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on a familiar pair. She bit back a smile noticing your discreet wave to her which she returned with a nod of her head. 

She saw you motion your head towards the refreshments table and she quickly let Benedict know she was going to get herself a lemonade and gracefully made her way around the room to the table where she could pour herself a glass. 

“Lady Bridgerton, interesting evening for a ball isn’t it?” 

Violet chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Yes, there is quite a storm outside,” she nodded as you came and stood next to her, pretending to be perusing the desserts. You leaned in to grab a macaron, but your mouth coming awfully close to her ear, her senses overwhelmed by your warm breath against her as your voice dropped to a whisper. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you.” 

She could feel a certain familiar warmth grow in her chest at your admission, still pretending to focus on the lemonade and not how much she wanted to pull you into her arms. 

“Did your carriage have much trouble in the rain?” she pulled back, continuing the cover conversation. 

“Thankfully no, but who knows what the night will bring,” you responded. 

Violet took a moment to appreciate your appearance. The way the jewels that dangled from your ears complimented your dress and shone against your skin. How odd it was that you chose not to wear a necklace, leaving the upper part of your chest bare. Violet supposed for most, attention would not be drawn to it due to the lack of jewels, but for her, your skin was much more precious. 

“We shall speak more later, yes?” you asked and Violet nodded her head. 

“Of course,” there was no question about it, but Violet wanted to do much more than speak and she gathered that you did too. 

You offered Violet a smile, your hand moving to touch her arm in a friendly manner, your touch lingering as you walked away leaving her to yearn for it as soon as it was gone. 

She tried to make friendly conversation with those around her, but her mind kept drifting off to your whispered words, your breath on her face. 

It didn’t help that whenever you walked by you’d find some excuse to touch her. A hand on her back to move her aside, a touch to her arm as you laughed at something she said while in conversation with others, the brush of your hands together as you passed her by. 

Eventually she could not take it any longer, or more, she didn’t want to. 

She sought you out where you stood alone in a quiet corner enjoying a glass of wine. 

“Took you long enough,” you murmured into your glass. 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do when you keep…touching me,” she whispered. “We are supposed to be discreet are we not?” 

“Forgive me, I was trying to get your attention,” you tried to bite back a chuckle, even though you knew Violet was not amused, but she wasn’t angry, no that wasn’t the right word. She had a fire in her eyes. Passion, desire…lust. 

“Well you have it,” she said. 

You pulled the wine glass away from your face, moving to walk past Violet as if you were leaving her, but going slow enough that you could whisper, 

“Hallway. Five minutes.” 

Violet felt a lump grow in her throat, but she continued to take her turn around the room, her eyes constantly drifting back to the clock until the long hand had moved enough to signal five minutes had passed. 

Discreetly she weaved her way through the crowd until she could slip out into the hallway. 

When she arrived, it was dark and she saw no sign of you. She thought perhaps you might have gone further so she walked down, scanning the doors on either side, going deeper and deeper into the home without much regard for politeness of where she should have been. 

Just as she was about to turn around and go back, she felt someone grab her wrist and pull her to the side and into a room. She almost let out a shriek of surprise, but before the sound could leave her mouth a hand covered it and she realized who it was that had pulled her away. 

“Discreet, Violet, remember?” you teased. 

“Oh hush, you scared me,” she removed your hand from her mouth, trying to get her beating heart to slow down. 

“Yes, well,” you leaned in closer, closing the door behind Violet. “Like I said…I missed you.” 

Your lips now ghosted the shell of her ear and Violet could feel her walls beginning to crumble. 

“Darling,” she warned. 

“Mmm I love it when you call me that,” your hands now rested against Violet’s hips, your lips lightly pressing against her jaw. 

“This doesn’t feel very discreet,” she managed to get out in a strangled breath. 

“We’re alone,” you kissed her jaw. “And there’s a ball, no one will notice we have slipped out. In fact, your children might even be thankful for a break from your hovering.” 

“Oh, now you’re just trying to get on my nerves,” Violet could feel herself roll her eyes, but was quickly diverted from her annoyance by the feeling of your teeth grazing along her pulse point. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her head and it became dizzying. “Goodness, would you stop teasing me?” 

“I thought you wanted to be discreet?” you pulled your head away, looking her into her eyes, a mischievous smile on your lips. “What you’re suggesting is hardly so.” 

Violet clenched her jaw, looking around the room and behind her at the door. 

“We’d have to be quick,” she said. “And quiet.” 

“How about I worry about the quick and you worry about the quiet?” you asked, leaning in so your mouths were centimeters apart. “You can repay the favour next time.” 

“Assuming there is a next time,” Violet mumbled. 

“We’re not going to get caught,” you assured her. “Now do you want this? Or should I just continue teasing you?” you asked as your hands trailed up her sides, coming to rest right underneath her breasts. 

“No,” Violet breathed. “I want this. I want you,” her head bobbed up and down in a nod. 

“Good,” you smiled, finally closing the minimal gap between you, pushing Violet into the door, her body hitting against it with a small thud. She could taste the faint remnants of lemonade and wine on your tongue and it only served to make you more addictive, encouraging her to hold both sides of your face, pulling you closer. 

The smell of your perfume was intoxicating, how it lingered in the air around her and with each breath how it felt like she was drinking you in, over and over again. 

The back of Violet’s head pressed against the door, her chin tilting upwards, an invitation perhaps for your lips to meet the skin of her neck, dragging along every freckle, connecting dots until you reached her collarbone, your grip becoming more firm around her hips. 

Her chest heaved with each touch, every kiss, the tightness of her corset creating the most deliciously dizzying experience as your kisses lined the top of her breasts, your nose trailing along in tandem. 

It made Violet whine when she felt the cold loss of contact of both your lips and your hands, but it quickly turned into a gasp as fingers lightly traced the length of her legs, the skirt of her dress and any other layers underneath being pushed up higher and higher. 

Once her skirt was bunched around her hips, she took the fabric from your hands, freeing them up for much more important things. 

Her eyes were shut, taking in the feeling of your hot fiery breath against her thigh, your kisses wet as they traced a path up to the cotton fabric that covered her. 

Your fingers were light in their touch while they tugged the fabric lower, down Violet’s legs and she could feel herself practically dripping with need. After you helped her step out of her underwear, you chuckled seeing her foot brush it off to the side, clearly anxious for your touch to return. 

Violet’s grip on the fabric of her dress tightened as she felt you hook one of her legs over your shoulder and she let herself look down for only a moment watching as you pressed kisses to her inner thigh. Despite warnings to be quick, you relished in those moments where you could build up her desire, making her tremble with even just the feeling of your breath against her skin. 

For a few moments, Violet felt nothing aside from your hand on her leg and hip supporting her, and she was about to ask if something was wrong, but just as she opened her mouth to speak she felt your tongue glide over her and words turned into needy moans. 

You squeezed her hip and her thigh, your voice low as you spoke against her making her knees go weak. 

“Remember, quiet, my dear.” 

Violet bit her tongue and nodded her head, pushing herself back so firmly into the door to steady herself as your touch continued, only growing more insistent with each passing moment. 

Just as she was about to lose herself in a haze, Violet thought she heard something. 

“Darling,” she whispered harshly. “Darling, wait.” 

You paused, the only sound in the room being that of your heavy breathing, but outside in the hallway, soft steps could be heard and you both became deathly still. 

The footsteps were accompanied by small quiet chatter, and just as quickly as they came, they left and the hall was silent once more. 

“Now where were we?” you murmured against her thigh and despite Violet’s heart threatening to burst out of her chest and the swirling nausea of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she let you continue because what you did was so very addictive. 

Violet felt a groan escape past her lips and she quickly let go of her skirt with one hand, placing it over her mouth to mute herself, or more likely muffle whatever sounds she was making. 

You could feel the fabric of her skirt fall slightly against your face and as a result Violet could feel your chuckle vibrate against her making her knees wobble so that she fell more firmly on you.

A sharp gasp left her mouth, muffled by her hand. 

You knew by her reaction you’d hit a sensitive spot and your tongue worked tirelessly against her, feeling her body arch against you, her breathing becoming more rapid and frantic, gripping on the one side of her skirt with such intensity she could feel her nails dig into her skin where they met the palm of her hand. 

Violet felt herself rise, as if with the crest of a wave, building and building and building until finally it crashed down on the sandy shore and pulled away before lapping again and again. 

As you finally pulled away from Violet, her leg still draped over your shoulder, she took a few moments to gather herself before finally removing her hand from her mouth, noticing the marks she’d left on it from trying to silence herself.

You pressed gentle kisses to her thighs, your hands caressing the skin they were holding before moving to wipe your face and move her leg back to the floor. 

Violet let go of her skirt, letting it fall over herself and was about to reach down to grab her discarded underwear before you beat her to it. 

“Really?” her voice was still breathless, her nose merely an inch away from your own while you smiled and came closer to her. 

“No one would notice it was gone,” a devious playful sort of smile crossed your lips. 

“I would.” 

“That’s the point,” you whispered before pressing your lips to hers in a slow kiss. 

“You’re insatiable,” she mumbled against you, pulling you closer. 

“I’m not the one who couldn’t wait until we got home.”

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya

[ashleyasha]

15 Questions + 15 Friends

Thanks for tagging me @knife-dad 💚

Are you named after anyone? Nope

When was the last time you cried? Um...a couple of days ago? I cry a lot, it's the depression smh

Do you have kids? Nope, unless you count my fur baby. My ferret Ellie 💚

What sports do you play/have you played? None...I'm not into sports really, but I'll have fun with basketball sometimes just shooting hoops

Do you use sarcasm? Not at all. Was that sarcastic? You decide.

What is the first thing you notice about people? Idk...just a general vibe I guess. I'm not good with people lol 

What's your eye color? Blue

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings definitely, I'm not a huge fan of scary movies there are very few I like

Any talents? Not really...I like to think I'm a good gamer? I'm not sure if that counts as a talent lol. Idk I'm pretty mediocre at everything tbh

Where were you born? West Virginia, USA

What are your hobbies? Gaming, reading, model building, playing d&d

Do you have any pets? My beloved ferret I mentioned above!

How tall are you? 5'10-ish

Favorite subject in school? Reading/English mostly, I actually enjoyed my math class in college a lot because I had a good teacher who made it all make sense, it was kinda fun

Dream job: Working at the Hobbiton set in NZ lol but more realistically, a librarian maybe. Working on video games or movies as a designer/editor but I don't have the skills for that. Editing movie trailers or designing movie posters. Idk I'm just rambling at this point about things I'd love to try but could never do lol

Tagging:

@imaginaryrobin

@mookybear12404

@savethefirecat

@liliaenbaggins

@sleepy-insomnia-bear

@agentpolarbear

@thirddagger

@notatypicaldimension

@allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

@sleepyfireball

@stochastiz

@queenofnevermore

@curioshops

@wlwdisasterr

@little---furnace

[lifesizehysteria]

@cptn-nash and me being obsessed with @sleepyfireball's Mittens.

[lifesizehysteria]

If you could eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

I hate that I’m going to say pizza but I am. Not only do I just genuinely love it, you can top it with such a huge variety of things that it could be quite varied and there’s lots of styles that also lend variety.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 7: Harmony

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: Well, this is the end! Finally here. I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally have a completed story fully released. I really hope you guys all enjoyed the story and I love every one of you. Massive thanks to my duckies @lifesizehysteria and @cptn-nash for betaing this whole story and genuinely being the best support in this whole crazy journey. I never thought that fandom would bring me some of my closest friends, but I am so so thankful that it did. Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

Francesca and John’s wedding was, in Violet’s opinion, perfect. They were so clearly comfortable with the small wedding, and with each other, it warmed Violet’s heart. Her doubts had vanished after her conversation with Francesca. She could appreciate that their love was a slow and sure one, rather than one that was explosive and quick. 

Violet smiled to Agatha during the ceremony, and when Agatha had smiled and nodded back, Violet felt her heart become a little more full. Her season had turned out better than she could have planned, with two children successfully gaining a true love match, her friendship with Agatha now stronger than ever, and her own ventures back into the romantic fray. 

Speaking of the romantic fray, her eyes slipped over to Lord Anderson, standing just behind Agatha, as he smiled softly at her. Violet dipped her head and smiled giddily, feeling her heart flutter, just a little, remembering the last time that she and Marcus had been in the drawing room together. She swallowed and hastily returned her gaze to the happy couple, pushing such thoughts from her mind.

As Agatha made her excuses to leave Violet alone with Lord Anderson, Violet felt her pulse quicken in her veins. She watched Agatha speaking to Hyacinth briefly, then heard Marcus’ voice speaking lowly in gentle conversation.

“It was a beautiful ceremony.” She turned her attention back to Lord Anderson, smiling at him as she nodded.

“I thought so,” she said. Lord Anderson smiled before he continued as if she had said nothing. 

“Second only to the beauty of its hostess,” he said, and Violet almost thought he may have rehearsed his words before he said them.

Violet laughed softly. “You flatter me.” She felt a flush rising as she swiftly took a drink from her glass, desperately trying to prevent herself blushing even more. How was it that she could look at him and have entirely impure thoughts, but the moment that he spoke to her, she turned into a blushing debutante once more?

“I am sincere.” Lord Anderson continued, still watching her even as she turned away briefly. “And sincere in wondering, if you would be so kind as to, uh…” He trailed off. Violet watched, smiling, as he uncharacteristically avoided her eye contact. She felt lonely without having his warm eyes watching her and she sought them out once more. “Save a dance for me at the next ball?”

Violet blinked. And blinked once more. Had he– Had he just asked her, Violet Bridgerton, to dance?

“Uh, wha-- The, uh… Uh… Dankworth-Finch Ball?” Violet’s words escaped her as she desperately tried to pull herself together enough to be able to answer his question. “I… Uh, well…” Violet cast about the room, laughing slightly, hoping she would find the words she wanted to say written in the curtains. “Yes.” Marcus chuckled and Violet’s heart skipped a beat. “Ye-- Uh, That… That would be most adequate.” Violet finished feebly. 

She took another sip of her drink as she exhaled, disappointed in herself for being reduced to stuttering. Again. She felt, rather than saw or heard, Marcus next to her as he also appeared to sigh in relief.

“Good. Very good.” He said as he huffed out a laugh, Violet hearing it as if from very far away. She heard her blood rushing in her ears and the tips of her ears pinked in embarrassment. As John clinked his glass and began his toast, Violet heard her own words to Francesca, from earlier that morning, repeating in her head. 

“You know, when I first met your father… I could barely speak my own name; I was so taken by him. I stumbled over words most familiar.” 

Had love really snuck up on her in such a way that she had not expected it, but welcomed it home with open arms anyway? Perhaps she understood Francesca’s own love better than she had thought. 

“So, instead, I shall offer a few humble words to your family, especially your mother.” John’s words pulled Violet from her thoughts. “Lady Bridgerton,” I really must remind him to call me Violet now, we are family. “I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you have instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth.” 

Violet felt the blush warming her cheeks as she looked down, uncomfortable in the face of such brazen praise, especially from John, who always chose his words so carefully.

“In this moment, when I feel so much gratitude for my new wife,” John continued, “I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her.” Violet looked up to him, overcome, smiling softly as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart.” He finished, raising his glass for the toast.

Violet laughed gently as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt both Marcus and Eloise’s hands on her arms, taking comfort from them. She had certainly not intended to cry at another of her children’s weddings, but the emotions of the day, coupled with John’s heartfelt toast, had overwhelmed her.

Seeing her tears, John spoke up once more, smiling. “Ah. Forgive me. Tears were the last thing I meant to evoke.” As everyone chuckled, Violet breathed a sigh of relief as the attention moved from her.

“Hyacinth has been crying this entire time.” Gregory said, much to Hyacinth’s indignance.

“One day, you, too, will have a heart.” Hyacinth retorted and Violet could not keep the smile from her face in watching her two youngest bicker. At least, not everything would be changing by the end of the season.

“Mama, will you play a duet with me?” Francesca turned to Violet, a pleading smile on her face.

“Oh, heavens, when-- Now?” She chuckled awkwardly, torn between having one last moment to bond with the daughter that she was soon to be waving away or maintaining the last shred of her remaining dignity after being reduced to heartfelt tears. “I… Well, I am dreadfully out of practice.” She had not played the pianoforte since she and Edmund had played together, serenading the children. It had simply been too painful to play without him, but, perhaps, with her children, new memories could be formed.

“I believe the last time I nearly moved you to tears was when I first started playing.” Francesca said and Violet was no longer torn, deciding that whatever her mischievous child was about to do was worth it if it meant that she got to celebrate this time with her.

“She was not the only one. I wept in my room from the hideous chord combinations.” Eloise interrupted, prompting soft laughter from everyone and a gentle tap on the shoulder from Violet.

“Oh, haha.” Francesca dismissed her sister’s taunt, turning back to Violet and taking her hand, saying. “Thankfully, Mama did not abandon me.” Violet smiled, as Francesca continued. “And I shall not abandon you now.”

“Is that a threat?” Violet said laughingly, suddenly very nervous that Francesca would not simply let it go.

Francesca nodded wryly, and Violet chuckled softly, hearing Marcus echo her from where he stood beside her. Violet allowed herself to be dragged to the pianoforte, handing her champagne to Eloise. She felt her nervousness rise, and she took several deep breaths as she sat next to Francesca, who started their duet.

Under the watchful eye of her family and friends, Violet drew a little strength from Francesca, who had grown so much during the season. Violet could still scarcely believe that she was married, and would be leaving for Scotland all too soon. She laughed with Francesca as the chords clashed, releasing some of the nervous energy she felt, but, in following her lead, Violet found a harmony with her daughter.  Her words with her from the start of the season echoed in her head.

“When you play with another person, there is a certain vulnerability which can be quite frightening, I would imagine. But it is worth it, once you find that person with whom you make an unexpected harmony.”

Perhaps her words had applied to herself this season as well, not just with Francesca.

As Violet played her duet, she was overcome with the overwhelming love for her children that always threatened to spill out. She had always tried to steer her children in the right direction, but it appeared that Francesca had managed to steer her, too. Francesca’s insistence for her own happiness had warmed Violet’s heart, to know that her daughter felt comfortable enough to stand for what she believed in, but it also opened Violet’s eyes to a new perspective. Violet looked up and caught Marcus’ eye as she played. He smiled, oh so softly, and Violet felt her heart fall a little more in love.

***

As Violet entered the Dankworth-Finch Ball, leading her children, she took a steadying breath. Tamping down the nerves that constantly threatened to arise was proving difficult. However, when Violet’s eyes settled on Marcus, she felt her nerves suddenly calm and explode simultaneously. The butterflies in her stomach took flight and Violet swallowed, to ground herself. As he noticed her, he excused himself and walked over to her family.

“Lady Bridgerton.” Violet would never tire of hearing her name in the rich timbre of his voice. “May we take a turn about the room?” Marcus offered his arm to her. Violet swallowed once more, before taking his arm in her hand. The moment she touched him, felt the warmth of him through his coat, her nerves finally settled. It was not explosive and powerful as it had been with Edmund; it felt like coming home after a long time away. A different love, Violet supposed.

“I would like that.” Violet said softly, smiling. She could feel the eyes of her children, watching her, but, for tonight, she put her worries aside. Her children were bright enough to realise that she was being courted, especially if Benedict’s parting wink was anything to go by. Violet entered the ball as a partner and not just a mother for the first time in 12 years.

***

Penelope’s speech had both worried and impressed Violet. She was so proud that she had finally managed to find her voice after so long hiding herself underneath the voice of Whistledown. Violet, however, worried of how the ton would react, but, seeing the ball return to its festivities, she realised she need not worry so much. Her children were growing up and she had always counted Penelope in that number, ever since her yellow bonnet had blown Colin off of his bicycle.

Marcus turned to Violet, his voice low. “Did you know?” 

“That she was Lady Whistledown? Not until earlier this week. I received a letter, much like Her Majesty.” She turned to him, seeing a quiet look of amazement on his face.

“I am quite impressed, she seems like a very bright young woman.” Marcus said, looking over to see Colin speaking to Penelope.

“Indeed, she is. And, if I am not mistaken, Colin has finally realised just how lucky he is to have her.” Violet watched the pair as they began to move to the dance floor. She felt Marcus shift beside her and her attention turned to him, to see him offer his hand to her.

“May I have this dance?” Violet stood, for a moment. She knew he would ask, of course she knew, it was the primary cause of her nervousness tonight. But it had slipped her mind through the commotion with Penelope. She blinked, still staring at his hand. Before she realised it, she felt her hand in his, her attention focusing on the warmth spreading from his hand to hers. Her other hand rested on her stomach, as it always did, a shield between herself and the rest of the world. He led the way to the dance floor and Violet swallowed, pushing her nervousness down as best she could.

I have not danced in so long, what if I do not remember the steps? Surely people must be looking. A widow dancing with a widower, it is sure to -- Violet’s racing internal monologue was silenced by the feeling of Marcus’ thumb stroking over her hand reassuringly. He watched only her as they moved into position on the dance floor. He stepped in toward her, slightly closer than what was proper.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered to her. At his words, Violet felt herself relax slightly. She was not alone in this; every courtship took two people and she felt safe by his side. She had felt safe by his side for far longer than she was willing to admit. 

As the music began, Violet remembered the steps for their dance. It all came back to her surprisingly quickly. While it had been 12 years, she had coached all of her children through their dance lessons and it appeared Violet’s own dance lessons were still embedded in her memory. Glancing over to the other couples for a cue of the next steps, Violet felt Marcus take the lead. She focused on him. 

As they danced, she remembered the last time she had danced. With Edmund. She felt a wave of nostalgia and melancholy wash over her. In a perfect world, she would have been here with Edmund, dancing with him. However, he had passed on and Violet had made her peace with that. 

As she danced, she was brought back to the present, instead of lingering in her memories. She smiled softly as Marcus spun her under his arm. She could not deny that she was excited to explore whatever this would become with Marcus. As the memories of dancing with Edmund flooded her, she allowed them to come to her, but not to overwhelm her. She wanted to stay in the present, with Marcus, enjoying her first dance with him.

He took her in his arms, the closest that Violet had ever been to him. She felt him behind her, solid and sturdy; safe. The longer that she danced, the less the memories of Edmund overwhelmed her and she truly began to enjoy herself. Of all her deportment lessons, dancing had always been her favourite.

Violet beamed at Marcus, seeing him return her smile with one of his own. She realised that she had fallen in love with that smile the moment that it had graced his lips. She looked up to his eyes, to see them twinkling with happiness. She spun underneath him once more, unable to hide her own happiness shining through, and as she danced, she found that her heart was making room for this new love for Marcus alongside her own, ever enduring, love for Edmund.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 [𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader [Modern!AU]

SUMMARY — Violet receives shocking news about a staff member and must quickly adjust to maintain her family's affairs

WORD COUNT — 3.1 K

WARNINGS — none

NOTE — Ah! The first chapter is here! I am so excited to share this with all of you and give Violet the love she deserves with a little bit of a twist! Again another big thank you to @sleepyfireball and @lifesizehysteria who have been there for my incoherent screaming about this at all hours of the day

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑰: 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮

If there was one thing that was universally acknowledged, it was that the Bridgertons were always in the spotlight. 

Whether it was right at the start when the heartthrob Edmund Bridgerton began dating Violet Ledger, or their early marriage, or the child that followed soon after, or the seven children that followed after that, the life of the Bridgertons was always and would always be publicized. 

Violet loved her family to pieces, anyone could tell that, but there were times she wished they could live a different life, perhaps not one so fully in the public eye. 

One might think that after over twenty years of such a reality, someone might get used to it, but the world had a way of surprising you. Just as Violet thought she might be getting a hold of things, heavily pregnant with her eighth child, she lost the love of her life. 

There were always people, itching for contact, for a word to be uttered to them from the illustrious family, but when she screamed out for help the world was silent. 

From the moment he died in her arms the cameras would not leave. Suddenly they knew everything. About her grief, how close she herself had come to dying while giving birth to her last child; she could not escape one moment without seeing her own tearstained face somewhere. 

She knew it would be completely impossible to remove herself and her family from all those curious onlookers, but she did her best to create a shield, and as the years passed, the cameras pointed away from her and her loved ones, only returning every once in a while, often around the time of joyful news. 

It had been a long while since that time, but with every single flash of a camera came back those moments she wished so desperately to erase from her mind. 

Her children had almost all since moved on, scattered across the world pursuing their dreams or starting their families, and the family home had certainly grown much quieter without their presence, but that didn’t mean life remained quiet. 

“Mum!” Hyacinth squealed and Violet could hear her feet pattering up the stairs until she threw the door to her office open, a bright smile on her face. 

Violet chuckled a little at the sight, Hyacinth was still in her pyjamas, one of those heatless curl contraptions clipped to her hair, a certain exuberance in her eyes that was not brought on by just anything.

“Yes, dearest?” she said, putting down her pen and taking off her glasses, giving her full attention to her youngest. 

“She’s coming here! To London!” 

“I’m sorry, who is coming here?” Violet looked at her daughter with some confusion, knowing that when she got too excited she often forgot to give context. 

“Beyoncé!” Hyacinth exclaimed. “Mum, please, please, please, you have to let me go!” 

Violet shook her head, “Hyacinth, you’re sixteen, I’m not going to let you go to a concert alone. They might not even allow you into the venue alone.” 

“What if I convince Benedict to come with me?” Hyacinth asked. “Or Daphne!” 

“Daphne just had a baby, please don’t ask your sister if she’ll go to a concert with you,” Violet chuckled. “But I suppose if Benedict says yes then I’ll consider it.” 

“Really?” Hyacinth grinned and Violet nodded her head. 

Hyacinth squealed once more and ran over to the side of her mother’s desk, engulfing her in a tight hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“Hyacinth, shut up! It’s nine in the morning.” They heard Gregory call from his room, but Hyacinth clearly didn’t care and Violet simply rolled her eyes at the interaction between the two. 

“Where did you find out the concert was happening?” Violet asked. 

“Just on here,” Hyacinth swiped on the front of her phone screen showing the small news widget that had a headline about the tour dates, but Violet’s eyes drifted lower and widened at the sight of something else. “Mum, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” 

“I-I’m fine,” she said. “Why don’t you go see what your brother wants for breakfast, I have to make a few calls.” 

Hyacinth nodded her head, listening to her mother, leaving the room and closing the door behind her, allowing Violet to open her laptop and look up the headline she had seen. 

Of course everything had to happen the day her assistant went on leave. 

She quickly picked up her phone and called Anthony, praying he would pick up.

He answered after a few rings, but not without some frustration in his voice.

“Mum, can I call you back? Eddie is being a little shit right now and-,”

“Landon was just arrested,” she blurted and Anthony quieted. 

He quickly spoke to Kate, letting her know he had to take care of an emergency and Violet could hear him move to somewhere surely more private. 

“Okay, walk me through what’s going on,” he said. 

“I don’t know much, I just saw it on the news,” she explained. 

“What was he arrested for?” Anthony asked. 

She read through the article trying to gather a few details before speaking again.

“Looks like embezzlement from the other family he was working for,” she explained. “I had no idea, Anthony. We had no idea.” 

“Has anyone contacted you about it? Police? Press?” 

“Not yet,” she shook her head. “But I suppose we’re going to need a new financial manager,” she sighed.

“I’ll call the lawyers to make sure everything is in order,” Anthony said. 

“Darling, you’re on vacation with your family, I don’t want to distract you from that,” she sighed. 

“Mum, you’ve cleaned up all of our messes more times than I can count. Let me at least take care of the legal stuff from here. You can be on damage control with the media and find someone to replace him. You have that giant charity gala coming up and Marianne just went on leave, you can't do it alone.”

Violet bit the inside of her cheek and nodded her head, “Okay, but please tell Kate I’m sorry about this.” 

“You have no need to apologize, it’s not your fault.” 

“I hired him, it feels a little like my fault,” she groaned. “Okay, okay let me leave you. I’ll get things sorted over here, maybe talk to Pat about releasing a statement and get ahead of things.” 

“Good idea, we can touch base again tomorrow, how’s that?” 

“That should work. Call sooner if anything comes up,” Violet said. 

“I will, and don’t let this get to you too much. Love you, Mum.” 

“I love you too, my dear,” with one last sigh she hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

She took a moment before calling Pat and crafting a statement to release to the media together. After the wording was sorted, Pat took care of the rest and Violet immediately started her search for a new financial manager. 

She desperately tried to push down the feeling of dread that seemed to be creeping up inside her chest. Small voices making their way through, only to say that she had brought this upon herself. She prayed that if anything this would only be a minor scandal, that Landon had spared their family from his misdeeds. 

Violet didn’t know what she would do if it was more than that. Because in the end if Landon took their money, he had also taken their privacy. She could deal with a material loss, their family had more than enough to manage, but something that put that burning hot light back on her would make her feel like she was slowly losing her mind.

She didn’t particularly want to be in charge of the hiring process again, afraid she may make the same mistake as last time, but Anthony was right. Especially with Marianne on leave, she could not handle the events that were coming up alone. She would need some kind of support and to ensure the public knew the Bridgertons were still holding their heads high regardless of what was happening around them. 

Violet didn’t leave her office until well past midnight. She was grateful that both Hyacinth and Gregory came to check on her during separate occasions and made sure that she had eaten food and had something to drink. Clearly, this was not a common occurrence, but any time there was an issue the siblings knew their mother would be practically locked in her office until she couldn’t handle it any more. 

“Mum?” Gregory knocked on the door, carefully opening it a crack and sticking his head through. 

Violet had her hair clipped up, her glasses crooked on her nose, hunched over her computer. 

“Mum?” Gregory repeated, and Violet looked up from her screen. 

“Yes, darling, sorry,” she apologized, looking up with a yawn. 

“I think you should go to sleep,” he said. “You’re not going to be able to deal with whatever happened if you’re running on fumes.”

“You might benefit from taking your own advice,” she teased. “I distinctly remember you staying up all night before your A-Levels.” 

Gregory chuckled. 

“Well if you want me to listen next time maybe you can set a good example,” he suggested. 

Violet conceded, closing her laptop and removing her glasses, placing them down on her desk. After getting up, she pulled her son into a tight hug. 

He was now taller than her, just like all her other boys, but she still dragged him down for a kiss on his cheek before sending him off to bed and taking his wise advice. 

As Violet readied herself for bed, her mind couldn’t help but drift back to the situation she had to deal with. She was worried, not only that she wouldn’t see the signs of untrustworthiness in someone, but also that she may perhaps be too guarded to see a good candidate when they were in front of her. 

Regardless, she would have to find someone, fast, and she prayed that somehow she’d have clear enough vision to pick the right person. 

—

A few weeks had gone by, and schedule wise, things were getting tight for the Bridgertons. 

“Still no hires?” Anthony asked over a video call and Violet shook her head.

“I have another interview with someone today, but I’m starting to think I’m going to have to do this gala alone.” 

“We can call Benedict, maybe he can come and help, just temporarily?” Anthony suggested, but Violet shook her head. 

She knew that the responsibility of such tasks stressed her second son and, in the end, might just create more work. 

“No, let’s just hope this next applicant is a good fit,” she said. “I’ll send you a message to let you know how it goes.” 

Anthony nodded his head, “You take care, Mum.” 

“I will. Kiss Eddie and Kate for me?” 

“Always,” Anthony smiled and Violet smiled back before hanging up the phone. 

Violet arranged her papers and cleaned up her space a little in preparation for the applicant that would be brought to her soon. 

She’d made it a habit to be the person to greet them at the door and she figured it made sense to continue that, especially since they tried to keep a minimal amount of staff in the house and they were often off dealing with much more important things than answering the door. Plus, everyone was vetted by security on the way in so she didn’t have much to worry about by means of safety. 

When the time finally came and the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the entire house, Violet came down the stairs, quickly checking her hair in the mirror before answering the door. 

After so many years in the spotlight, Violet was not one to choke on her words often, but she found herself unable to speak for a moment, simply staring at the woman in front of her. 

“Hi, I’m here for the interview for the financial manager position,” you said. “I’m supposed to meet with Mrs. Bridgerton.” 

Violet blinked a few times and finally nodded her head, coughing a little and opening the door wider. 

“Yes t-that’s me. I am her. V-Violet,” she stumbled and stuttered, cursing herself internally for seeming so absentminded. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat again, welcoming you in. “Call me Violet.” 

“Violet, it’s nice to meet you,” you offered your hand for her to shake. “You have a lovely home.” 

“Oh, thank you,” she smiled, a pink tinge coming to her cheeks. “It’s been in my late husband’s family for generations. I tend to forget to give it so much as a second thought.” 

You chuckled a little at her comment and waited for her to direct you to where she wanted to hold the interview. 

“Did you have to travel far to get here?” Violet asked as you walked up the stairs together. 

“No, not too far,” you shook your head. “I suppose you’ve asked that quite a few times of late.” 

“Much to my own dismay,” she nodded. “I can’t count the number of interviews I’ve done the past few weeks,” she admitted. 

“Well then I hope this one goes well for the both of us,” you smiled and she chuckled. 

“Yes, as do I,” she nodded. 

Violet opened the door to her office and let you take a seat across from her desk before sitting down herself. 

“So, shall we get right into it?” she asked, and you nodded your head. 

Just as Violet opened her mouth to begin to speak, a loud muffled sound started vibrating through the walls of the old home. Violet frowned, but then quickly realized where the sound was coming from as Hyacinth’s voice rang loudly through the hallway, singing along to a Whitney Huston song. 

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, very embarrassed, and quickly excused herself, running over to Hyacinth’s room, opening the door without knocking. 

“Mum what are you-” 

“I’m in the middle of an interview,” she said. “Turn it down, or, better yet, please turn it off.” 

“Shoot! Gregory said it was tomorrow, the little twat!” Hyacinth quickly turned off her music and apologized to her mother. 

“Never mind that. I’ll talk to Gregory later,” Violet sighed. “Just please keep it down.” 

Hyacinth nodded her head and Violet left the room, going back to her office and closing the door behind her. 

“I’m so sorry for that,” she said. “School has been over for two weeks and they’re already restless.” 

“Your children?” you asked and Violet nodded. 

“My two youngest are still with me, the others have all moved out,” she explained. “Now where were we,” she settled back in her seat. “Can you tell me a bit about your educational background?” 

“Well I studied business for my undergrad and then went on to get an MBA and a Master’s in Economics,” you explained. 

“And on your CV it says you worked for a holding company previously?” she noted. 

“Yes, that was my last place of employment,” you confirmed. “I managed a lot of the company's assets and dealt with investments mostly.”

“And why did you leave?” 

You smiled, “Looking for a new challenge.” 

Violet nodded her head and flipped through her papers. 

“Do you have much experience dealing with people publically?” she asked. 

“Not particularly, that was often handled by others where I was previously employed,” you said. “I’d like to think I’m pretty personable though.” 

“I would have to agree with you,” Violet smiled. “Do you work well under pressure? I wouldn’t say it is a constant with this position, but it definitely has its moments.” 

“I have been known to be able to deliver the desired results within whatever time frame I’m given,” you nodded your head. “I’ve always been a very meticulous person, I find it often comes to my advantage in a workplace setting.” 

Violet skimmed through her papers and as she did so she asked, “Do you have any questions for me?” 

“A few, actually,” you adjusted your seating slightly. “I was wondering if you might tell me a little more of what the day to day looks like?”

“Great question,” Violet nodded. “Similar to your work with the holding company, we will have investments that need to be managed and stocks that need to be watched over. My family and I have also started a few charities that will need to be looked over and, along with those, come plans for budgets and expenses. It is more so the bigger picture and making sure everyone working on those is doing their job properly, think of it as quality control.” 

“Is there anyone I will be working closely with?” you asked. 

“Yes, me actually,” Violet nodded. “And my eldest son Anthony once he returns from visiting his wife’s family in India.” 

You tried to hide your surprise, but it did not go unnoticed by the seasoned socialite. 

“You’re surprised,” she said, reading your expression quite plainly. 

“A little,” you admitted. “I was told typically families of your standing aren’t particularly involved with these sorts of things. Mostly posing for the camera while others do things behind the scenes.” 

“I can see where you’re coming from, but I assure you that is not the Bridgerton way,” Violet chuckled. “My husband studied business specifically so that he could change the way we did things here. Edmund never wanted the family’s money only to be used for show, he wanted it to have meaning, especially knowing our country’s history of taking things that do not belong to it. In a way, I suppose he wanted to give it back while still ensuring his family could have a good, comfortable life.” 

You hummed thoughtfully, a smile gracing your lips, and Violet could sense you were impressed. 

“I take it you agreed with your husband?” 

Violet nodded her head, “Why do you think I went back to school in my forties?” 

“Mrs. Bridgerton, you are full of surprises,” you laughed. 

“Violet, please,” she reminded you. “I try to be. That’s how I prefer it.” 

She asked you a few more questions, a few situational problems so she could get a sense of your style of working. You had an inkling things were going well, but you didn’t realize how well until the interview was over and you were preparing to leave. 

“So, when can you start?” Violet asked. 

A little taken aback, you took a moment to think about it before looking back at her with an excited smile. 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Perfect,” she let out the breath of air she had been holding and patted her hands on her legs. “We have a lot of work to do.” 

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch @etherynn @lilisdarling

[lifesizehysteria]

@cptn-nash @sleepyfireball when the group chat is out of control

do NOT talk to me i am busy having unrealistic gay daydreams

[ashleyasha]

Tagged by @agentpolarbear thank you so much! 💚

Rules: Pick a song for every letter of your url and tag that many people

A - Ascensionism by Sleep Token

S - Shame On Me by Catch Your Breath

H - Heaven by PVRIS

L - Leave a Trace by CHVRCHES

E - Eternal Blue by Spiritbox

Y - Your Blood by AURORA

A - Anymore by Lø Spirit

S - Skyburner by In This Moment

H - Hades by VUKOVI

A - Anthem by YONAKA

Tagging: @imaginaryrobin @knife-dad @mookybear12404 @liliaenbaggins @savethefirecat @thirddagger @sleepyfireball @sleepy-insomnia-bear @batmantaking-hobbits2gallifrey @nuttmeg13

[lifesizehysteria]

For the mix and match ask game 6d?

I wrote a one shot that is in my compilation fic The Fosters Musing called Nightmares about Lena having night terrors after Stef almost dies from a gunshot. I don’t write a lot of angsty stuff so not a lot to choose from and it was way at the beginning of when I started writing them. But this description of the nightmare she has is pretty good:

And there was this one. Where Stef's scar started to bleed and she would get it to stop bleeding just to have another start bleeding. Every time one was under control more started and eventually there were too many and Lena would watch her bleed to death, unable to do anything to stop it.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 2: Steady

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I only lasted 2 days before I realised I have no self-control and I just wanted to share this next chapter with you guys! Enjoy! I'll try to stick to weekly updates from now on. Chapter 1 AO3

St. James’ Park really was beautiful during the summer. Violet found herself walking along the riverside, ten steps behind Francesca and Lord Kilmartin, soaking up the summer sun as she went. She watched as the two walked, no longer just in companionable silence but talking to each other. Violet smiled at some of the other members of the ton who were also promenading, before returning her contemplation to her two ‘young people’ as she had called them, to Marcus -Lord Anderson. Although, that had been Francesca and Lord Samadani, but the point still stood.

Here she was, desperately trying to avoid interfering so that she could allow Francesca to find her happiness for herself. She certainly had some doubts about this pairing, despite being able to see Francesca was happy. Lord Kilmartin was incredibly similar to Francesca, in the way that they could both be reserved. Violet had thought that Francesca would be able to find someone to coax her out of her shell, but instead she had found Lord Kilmartin, a member of the most reserved family in the ton, hailing from Scotland.

As she continued to follow the pair, she spotted Lord Anderson walking through the park, taking in the beautiful sunshine as well. She felt her heart swell, just a little, seeing him, but he did not appear to have seen her. She kept walking, allowing her attention to wander to other things as she did so, until she had stopped, ten steps behind as always, when she heard her name being called in Lord Anderson’s deep voice.

“Lady Bridgerton.” She turned to her left, where the voice was coming from, to see Lord Anderson walking towards her, his smile present on his face as he approached her. “What a lovely surprise to see you out here today.” Violet smiled in response, bowing her head.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet allowed her joy to inflect her tone, “It is a fine day for a stroll, indeed.” She gestured to where Francesca and Lord Kilmartin were standing in step ahead of her. “I am chaperoning for my daughter. You remember Francesca?” Violet said, as an explanation for her walking in the park.

“Indeed, I do. Although, is that a different suitor?” Lord Anderson chuckled quietly as he turned to her with a questioning look on his face.

“Ah, you are quite perceptive. That is Lord Kilmartin. He has been courting Francesca since the Innovations Ball, but Francesca only seemed to seriously consider him after the Queen’s Ball.” Violet looked toward the pair, seeing the two had begun to walk again. Boldly, Violet motioned toward the pair and asked, “Would you like to walk with me, Lord Anderson?”

“I would enjoy that.” Lord Anderson fell instep beside her and they walked together. “So, Francesca is finding her match. I also hear that your son is engaged to be married to Miss Penelope Featherington. My sister was quite pleased to learn of the match.”

“As was I, Lord Anderson. Miss Featherington has been dear to the family for years and she and Colin, particularly, have always been close. So, to learn they are engaged, well, I was quite excited.” She smiled shyly, glancing at him briefly to find him watching her quite intently. “There is to be an engagement ball at Bridgerton House later during the week. My daughter, Kate, who is my eldest son’s wife, and I have been busy organising it.” Violet spared another glance at Lord Anderson, to find him still looking at her, with affection in his eyes. Emboldened by his look, Violet took a plunge. “You would be most welcome to come if you so desired.” Violet watched Francesca and Lord Kilmartin, not daring to look at Lord Anderson, for fear of seeing rejection clouding his eyes.

“I would like that.” At his words, Violet looked up at him, to see that he was looking at the path, but a smile was gracing his features. She turned her gaze to Francesca and Lord Kilmartin, seeing that they had stopped, and it appeared that Lord Kilmartin was saying goodbye.

“Well, Lord Anderson, I shall ensure you receive an invitation, and I look forward to seeing you at the engagement ball.” Violet turned to Lord Anderson as she spoke, the two of them having stopped when the couple ahead had.

“As do I.” Lord Anderson bowed his head, Violet mirroring him as they parted ways. Before rejoining Francesca, Violet turned back to watch Lord Anderson, with a small smile on her face.

***

So far, the engagement party was shaping up to be a success. Violet had been absolutely ecstatic to welcome Penelope into the Bridgerton family, officially. To be entirely honest, Violet had thought of Penelope as her own daughter ever since she and Eloise had become fast friends.

Violet had watched as the poor girl was a wallflower, season after season. So, when she had realised that Colin was in love with Penelope, it warmed Violet’s heart. She had given him a slight push the night of the Queen’s ball, and he had returned that same night and announced the engagement.

Violet had insisted on having the engagement celebrations at Bridgerton House and had worked closely with Kate to ensure that everything went smoothly. So, she was pleased to see it all working out, and she was more than happy to relinquish hostess duties to Kate, at least for the night. Violet knew she would have to step back from viscountess duties eventually, but she was struggling to do so, especially with Kate and Anthony taking another honeymoon and only arriving back the morning of Colin’s engagement.

Violet watched as Penelope and her mother entered from the balcony above the ballroom that doubled as the entranceway and watched as Colin immediately darted over to Penelope. She could see it, clear as day, the love in his eyes matched the love that had once shone through Edmund’s eyes for her. Colin was becoming more and more of his father’s son. Even if he may not be able to recognise it, Violet could, and it made her heart pine for Edmund. As she was letting herself slip into nostalgia, she heard the tap of a familiar cane against the hardwood floors.

“Agatha!” Violet spun around to greet her.

“Violet.” Agatha’s voice was warm as the two smiled at each other, Agatha coming to join her at the balcony edge.

“I was just watching everything happening.” Violet gestured to the party below. “I am most pleased that Colin and Penelope are engaged. I have not had a chance to ask what you think of the match.” She turned to Agatha slightly, nervousness seeping into her frame.

Agatha turned to look at her, happiness and pride, maybe, showing on her face. “Oh, Violet, just because we did not organise this one does not mean I think they are undeserving. Watch them.” She said, gesturing to the pair. Violet turned to watch as Colin and Penelope walked through the ballroom together, arm in arm. “They are clearly enamoured with each other. Anyone who questions their match is a fool.” Violet hummed in agreement as Agatha continued.  “And all she had to do to get him to marry her was be herself.” Violet let her pride shine through for her soon-to-be daughter as she and Agatha settled into their regular repartee. 

“She is an extraordinary young woman.” Violet said, feeling contentment wash over her. As Agatha laughed in agreement, Violet turned to face her, happy to see the pride in her face too, when she saw a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. She turned entirely to see Marcus -Lord Anderson- approaching the two of them, smiling broadly. 

Violet suddenly stiffened. Though she had become more comfortable around Lord Anderson after their impromptu promenade a few days ago, she still had not had a chance to speak to Agatha about it all, especially after how she had reacted when the two first met. Despite herself, Violet offered him a happy grin as he approached.

“Lady Bridgerton.” His voice washed over Violet warmly as he stopped in front of her.

“Lord Anderson, welcome.” Violet bowed her head, laughing softly as she greeted him. Violet reached for the bannister with her hand, to ground herself slightly for the coming conversation that she had a distinct feeling would be uncomfortable for all parties involved.

“Marcus, I did not realise that you were coming tonight.” Agatha looked back over her shoulder to Lord Anderson, disdain coming off her in waves so strong that Violet could practically feel it.

“We ran into each other out promenading the other day.” Violet said quickly in explanation, trying rather desperately to diffuse the tension before it could settle. Hoping to find a more friendly demeanour, Violet turned towards Lord Anderson, pretending the tension was not an excuse to look at him once more.

“A happy coincidence.” Lord Anderson interjected, smiling, seemingly unaffected by Agatha’s frosty welcome. Violet was rather thrown by how genuine his happiness seemed, directed fully toward her. She grinned.

“Indeed,” she replied, happiness inflecting her tone, as she nodded toward him. Despite whatever Agatha may be thinking, it was clear to Violet that Lord Anderson was beginning to properly seek her out at these events, rather than just running into each other accidentally. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach begin to stir. 

Lord Anderson turned toward Agatha, who, Violet could tell, was less than impressed about their friendship. She faced Agatha, wishing to keep her friend’s attention on her, wishing to save Marcus from a severe dressing down later, not that Violet would admit that to anyone but herself. She spoke up. “And I invited him.” Violet inhaled sharply and turned away as the smile slid from her face. 

She had assumed, after their discussions of Violet’s… garden over the winter, that Agatha would recognise how she was feeling and not interfere in what she must have known to be a rather delicate process for Violet. However, it appeared her support only extended as far as the men that Agatha felt comfortable being involved with Violet. Clearly, this did not include her estranged brother. Violet’s hands would not stay still as she nervously waited for someone to say something, anything, so she preoccupied herself with the flowers that were perched on the bannister.

“I see.” Agatha still did not sound happy at the prospect, but at least she was being cordial. After all, so many years in the ton had to teach one something, yes? Violet grasped the bannister again, not daring to look at Agatha or Lord Anderson until Agatha spoke again. “Well, to the… happy couple.” It was unlike Agatha to not know what to say, but it would seem that this was an uncomfortable situation for the three of them. Violet saw Agatha take a heavy drink after her impromptu toast. She turned to smile at Lord Anderson, pleased to see that he was not put off by Agatha’s clear wariness.

Violet felt like she was at an impasse. Here was her best friend, who seemed wholly unhappy at the thought that Violet could harbour any kind of affection for Lord Anderson at all. And here was Lord Anderson himself, clearly trying to seek her out at the party that she had invited him to. Violet was stuck between the two and, thinking of nothing else to say, she turned back to the party below and hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, I really should be returning to the party.” Violet escaped the uncomfortable situation as politely as she could. She turned a smile toward Agatha and bowed her head toward Lord Anderson, who returned it as she walked past him, trying to avoid rushing too much. As she left, she heard Agatha echo her sentiments and she could hear the tap of Agatha’s cane against the floor, following her down the stairs. As she reached the ground floor, Violet ducked into the study to have a brief moment of respite before rejoining the party. 

As she closed the door softly behind her, she heard the telltale clack of Agatha’s cane and silently sighed in relief that she would be able to avoid that conversation for tonight at least. It is not like I am avoiding her entirely, she reasoned, although, even to herself, that sounded a little flat. 

As she turned to the rest of the study, she spied Edmund’s old pocket watch sitting on Anthony’s desk. She picked it up, remembering Colin’s thoughtful gift from his travels, of a new pocket watch for herself. She turned the watch over in her hand, feeling the smooth edges of it, with the occasional scratch and scuff, accumulated from the 20 years of use it had seen. She had gifted it to Edmund on their 10th wedding anniversary and it had become Anthony’s when Edmund had passed. She brought the watch close to her heart, allowing herself to feel a little closer to Edmund through it. She always carried him with her in her heart, but having a tangible object from him could make it a little easier at times.

“Oh, Edmund, how I wish you were still here,” Violet whispered into the darkness around her. “You would have been thrilled to see how far our children have come.” As she spoke, she felt tears pricking her eyes. She blinked rapidly, returning the pocket watch to its resting position on the desk and taking a couple of deep breaths as she composed herself. She really should return to the party, Agatha would be wondering where she had gotten to, not to mention the rest of her family. 

As she rested her hand on the door handle, she steeled herself for the conversation she would inevitably need to have with Agatha one day if she truly wished to pursue anything with Marcus. Violet took comfort in knowing that Edmund would want her to be happy, however she could be. He had, after all, told her as much right before he confessed his love for her the first time. She took one fortifying breath and turned the handle, rejoining the party.

As Violet stepped out, she spotted Agatha in conversation with Anthony, with Lord Anderson hovering nearby. While he was being polite to the guests, it was clear that he was not enjoying himself, so Violet walked over to him, to save him from this fate.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet allowed her affection to inflect her tone, to help ease him. After all, that was her job as co-hostess for the evening, and she enjoyed it anyway. As he turned toward her, a broad smile graced his features.

“Lady Bridgerton. I am quite enjoying the party. You have impeccable taste, as does your daughter.” He gestured toward Kate, who was making the rounds for the guests.

“Indeed. She is a wonderful addition to the family,” Violet leaned in conspiratorially, “And a wonderful match for Anthony as well. She has helped him soften, much to Francesca’s luck for the season. My eldest daughter, Daphne, had quite a bit of trouble when she was out because Anthony was quite overbearing.” Lord Anderson chuckled quietly with Violet, who did not wish to alert Anthony to their conversation.

“I cannot blame him. If I could have done anything to help my sister, I would have done that too.” Lord Anderson looked quietly pensive for a moment. Violet turned toward him, about to ask, when he flashed her a sad smile and said, “Anyway, you have guests that I shall let you see to.”

“Oh, no, please, stay. I cannot leave you on your own after I was the one to invite you here.” Violet protested, placing a hand on his arm quickly. Even through his coat, she could feel the warmth emanating from him. She pulled her arm back, the memory of his touch electrifying. She fiddled with the stem of her champagne glass, looking down as she did so, so that she had something to do with her hands.

“That is most kind of you.” Lord Anderson responded quietly, prompting her to look up at him, to see a small smile on his face as he gestured to the approaching guests. Violet stood comfortably with Agatha, Anthony, and Lord Anderson as she greeted guests. Whatever Agatha did not like about Lord Anderson, she seemed willing to put it aside for the sake of the ton, and their reputations, allowing Violet to have discussions with both siblings throughout the night.

[shmaptainwrites]

i asked is somebody gonna match my freak and the lord sent me @sleepyfireball and @lifesizehysteria

[lifesizehysteria]

Counting Freckles | A Violet Bridgerton Fic

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: M Pairing: Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader Summary: No plot, just freckles and sex. An ode to Violet Bridgerton's freckles. Notes: First attempt at this POV. We can all thank @cptn-nash and @sleepyfireball for convincing me to give it a try. Also another thank you to @shmaptainwrites for permission to steal her formatting style because I fell in love with her visuals. 💜 AO3

When Violet Bridgerton took up residence in the estate next to yours, her two youngest children in tow, you had no idea what to expect, but you had been hopeful, at least, for a friendly neighbor with whom you shared some commonalities. It wasn’t often one came across another young dowager widow, after all. She was reserved but friendly, waving whenever she passed by, and her children were well-mannered, if rather lively. You had no idea that a chance meeting out in the garden on a particularly sunny spring day, when you invited her in for some lemonade, would forever change the course of your life, and your heart. 

What began as an easy friendship quickly turned into a passionate affair that took you both by surprise, but your mutual attraction was undeniable and refused to be ignored. At first you were quite discreet. Careful to never be caught, always locking doors, never spending the night, stifling moans with hands and pillows and mouths so as not to be overheard. Eventually, though, once Violet’s youngest children flew the nest and you found yourselves alone aside from the servants, both of your patience for playing pretend wore thin. Your houses were modest, minimally staffed, and rarely frequented by any of your adult children. There was little risk by then, and what risk remained was worth the comfort of waking up every morning with the one you loved. Who was really paying attention to a couple of old widows, anyway?

You woke to the misty blue light of a cloudy early morning, and the sound of rain pattering against the window. Turning onto your side, you could see Violet asleep on her stomach, her long hair sprawled, wild across her pillow and over her neck. Its rich brown was streaked with silver like veins of sparkling moonlight. She would have hated you for thinking it, but you would swear there was more gray in it every day, which you did not mind because it just added to her beauty. Smiling, you brushed it away from her back, twisting a lock between your fingers as you did so, revealing the freckles smattering the skin across her shoulders. You had them memorized by now, the way they were sprinkled down her back, over her chest and arms and face, like stars scattered across the night sky. You would never understand how anyone thought them an imperfection.

Her breathing was still deep and steady, so you ran your finger featherlight along a trail of them next to her spine. When you reached the neckline of her nightdress, unable to follow them down below, you dragged your finger back up, connecting freckles like constellations. She began to stir, her shoulder twitching as your fingernail traced along its top. Sleep continued to hold her, so you began to follow your finger with your lips, placing slow, delicate kisses along as much bare skin as you could find.

The warmth of your breath washed over Violet until it made her shiver. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, but her body was rousing quickly, each kiss from your lips drawing more tension into her muscles. A sleepy moan rumbled in her throat while she aimlessly sought out something, any part of you to touch. After several unsuccessful pats that landed on the blanket bundled between you, she found your waist. Gripping it, she used your body to help roll onto her back so you hovered over her, taking away all of those delicious freckles as she did so.

Her face was relaxed, her blue eyes half closed as she gazed up at you through her lashes. The flush in her cheeks matched the pink of her pouting lips, the sight of her irresistible. You brought your hand to her face, sweeping hair away from her forehead to reveal more freckles there. You traced your fingertips down her temple toward her cheek, and she turned her face into your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. You bit your lower lip as you smiled down at her, marveling at how, after so many mornings together, she could still take your breath away. 

Violet inhaled deeply, arching her back to stretch the sleep from her spine, drawing your eye to the white cotton of her nightdress pulling tight across her chest. A current of arousal spread its way through your body and you had to swallow the pool that had formed in your mouth. 

“You are awake early, my love,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep. 

You nodded your head, unable to clear the fogginess that had begun to settle. “I think it was the rain that woke me.”

Her eyebrows lifted, her face perking up. “Is it raining?” she asked, tilting her head to listen. Once it registered, she closed her eyes for a moment to take in the sound. “Do you not just love the sound of rain?” The serene smile that pulled across her mouth was too much for you to resist any longer. 

“Among other things…” you muttered with a devilish smirk before dipping your head to kiss her.

She gasped against your mouth, her grip on your waist tightening. After her surprise waned, her lips fell into your rhythm—slow, almost leisurely. This was not a morning for frenzied passion, but for tender lovemaking. You had awoken beside an angel and you intended to take her to heaven. 

A hazy desire built around you, swirling in both your bellies, your hearts beating gently like the rain against glass. You traipsed your fingers down her neck and around to cradle her head. Burying them in her hair, you encouraged her head to tip back, exposing her neck so you could drag your lips down its length. You dipped your tongue into the hollow at the base, the wet heat making Violet’s breath hitch as she pulled you closer.

You nipped at her collarbone before devouring your way down her chest, delighted to have found more of your favorite freckles. Violet let out a lilting laugh when you grunted upon reaching the fabric of her nightdress, only to start tugging at it unsuccessfully with your free hand. 

“Let me,” she said, maneuvering herself so she could help. Mischief shone in her eyes as she locked your gaze in hers, enjoying the frustration on your face as she slipped the sleeves off of her shoulders, then slowly slid her arms out through the wide neckline. 

You did not realize your mouth hung open, staring while she pushed both the dress and blanket down below her breasts to her navel, until her warm fingers brushed along your jawline. “You stare as though you have not seen them hundreds of times before,” she laughed again. 

“I stare because they are perfect. The eighth wonder of the world.”

“You mock me,” she playfully accused, running her thumb along the edge of your lower lip. Of course, she knew better, but how she loved when you worshiped her. 

“I have never meant anything more,” you promised in a throaty whisper. You pulled the tip of her thumb into your mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, your free hand slid up and over her belly and ribs to cup one of her breasts. The weight of it was blissfully familiar, the freckle-dusted flesh spilling over your hand slightly while her nipple tightened against your palm. You took it between your fingers, rolling and pinching until her eyebrows drew together, her lip clenched between her teeth. The two sensations at the same time threatened to overcome her. Desire seared through her body, making her whimper when the muscles between her legs tightened against the ever persistent pulse beating there. 

With a kiss, you released her thumb, which left a cool wet trail along your chin and neck as she dragged her fingers down to the base of your throat, fingernails lightly scraping your skin. Kissing her lips once more, you then marked a path with kisses, growing more open-mouthed, down her neck, over the freckles on her chest, and down the pillowy, stretch-lined flesh of her other breast. You let your breath rush over her nipple before taking it into your mouth, sucking and nipping, rolling your tongue over it in unison with your fingers on the other. Her hand pushed around to the back of your neck, her fingers plunging into your loosely braided hair and urging you closer.

It wasn’t long before Violet began to squirm. She pressed one hand against the headboard, arching her back and driving her hips down into the mattress. You knew her and her body fluently, and while you could have stayed right there forever, you recognized the quiet desperation for more. With one more tender kiss, you sat up on your knees, slipping her nightdress down the rest of her body, slowly revealing her deliciously soft belly. Your hands skimmed down her sides and over the flare of her hips, the fabric bunching around them until she lifted them away from the mattress. You shimmied the garment further down, grazing the sensitive skin of her thighs as you tugged it off. For a moment, you sat admiring her. It didn’t matter how many times you saw her body in the flesh, nor the number of ways time had managed to carve itself into new details. Every time, you found yourself in awe. Your fingers brushed along her stomach. There were freckles here, too. Dark against the palest parts of her, they were larger and spread apart, but just as beautiful. You touched them as you went—beneath her breast, near her navel, atop her hip. You bit your lip as you admired them.  

“If you are going to continue to stare, you could at least afford me the same view.” She tugged at your nightdress. “Remove this. I want to see you.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Yes, my love.” You did as you were told, gathering the skirt in your hands and pulling it off over your head, tossing it to the floor beside hers. “Better?” you asked, sitting back, allowing her the view she so desired. Her eyes swept over your body, the intensity of the lust in her eyes making your breath catch.

“Perfect.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she slid her hand up the length of your arm and to your neck. She urged you closer, kissing you deeply, pouring her love directly into you. 

Her hand wandered, finding all the most sensitive spots she knew would drive you mad. She ghosted a finger along the edge of your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Her fingernails grazed over your pulse point, then continued down over your chest. She brushed her thumb over your nipple, teasing it as it hardened until you moaned into her mouth. The sound made her laugh against your lips; how easily she could turn you into a whimpering puddle. Satisfied, her hand continued down and around to the small of your back, pressing your hips down as she laid back, pulling you along with her, your kiss unbroken. 

You drank in every taste of her, every breath, because there would never be enough to fill your desire for her. She delighted in the familiar weight of your body, and the warmth of your skin against hers as she got lost in your embrace. She was gasping between kisses, little whimpers catching in her throat at every touch. You reached down to the outside of her thigh, your fingers pressing firmly into her petal-soft skin as you bent her knee so it was up against your hip. When Violet felt you against the apex of her legs, a wave of pulsing heat burned through her body. She thrusted her hips forward, trying to make more contact, but it wasn’t enough.

“Touch me,” she panted, your lips just a breath apart. 

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach. There was nothing else you wanted to do more. You shifted so that you were draped over only half of her, hooking your leg over hers and drawing it towards you so she was open for you. She watched, her eyes darkening as you slid two of your fingers into your mouth, thoroughly wetting them in order to assist with the inconsistency she had experienced in the year since her courses had stopped. When you pressed them down into her folds and found her already slicker than usual, a wicked grin curled your lips. 

“Oh my,” you muttered against her ear, making her skin tingle. “Someone is certainly ready this morning.”

Your name slipped from her lips, her voice shaking, “Please.”

“Is there enough?” you asked. 

“Yes.” She blinked quickly, then added, “I think so.” 

“Do you want it?”

“Yes.” She was breathless with want. 

You kissed her parted lips, then whispered against them, “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

She was nodding when you pulled back so you could see her face. You entered her gently, as you always did now, watching for any sign of discomfort. There was no resistance, and Violet let out a shuddering sigh, eyes closing as her head pushed back into the pillow. 

You worked her slowly, paying careful attention to everything—her face, the sounds she made, the ease with which your fingers moved inside her—diligent in ensuring every moment was one of pleasure. When you thought perhaps there was more friction than there should have been, you removed your fingers, causing Violet to whine in displeasure.

“It is only for a moment, sweetheart,” you assured her. She watched with bated breath as you took your fingers back into your mouth. The taste of her musky sweetness caused a tightening in your own core and your mouth to water, which aided in your effort. A quiet moan escaped as she watched you lick your lips. A louder moan followed when you pressed your fingers into her again. Her eyes rolled closed as you returned to your former pace, confident now that you would not hurt her. She clung to you, her fingers gripping your shoulders and your back, nails digging into your scalp, anywhere she could hold because you were the only thing anchoring her to Earth.

Sensing she was close but not quite able to make it over that edge, you pressed the heel of your hand against her most sensitive spot, eliciting a primal sound from deep in her chest while she rocked down to get more pressure. As her hips moved against your hand, you followed her pace, watching the tension build in her body until she could no longer hold on, finally crashing over the crest, straight into heaven.

You let her come down slowly, remaining inside her while her inner muscles grew still and her body relaxed into the mattress. The freckles on her chest and face now laid on a bed of pink and you couldn’t help but kiss a few of them. Violet’s eyes fluttered open and she placed her hand beneath your chin, drawing your face up to hers and kissing you with a satiated hum. 

“Come here,” she urged, touching your leg that was still wrapped around hers. You withdrew from inside her, taking her offered hand so you could reposition yourself over her, straddling her hips. You fingers laced with hers while you leaned on your other arm, hovering over her face. Violet captured your lips again, at the same time as her hand burned its way down the length of your body. She knew you well enough to know you would be so primed that delaying any longer would be torturous. But while you had taken her to heaven, she had decided to dance with the devil because instead of touching you where you so desperately needed, she grazed the backs of her fingernails from your navel to the edge of your curls. She continued, reaching between your bodies to take hold of the supple flesh of your inner thigh. It was one of her most favorite spots. She raked her fingers up, closer and closer while your muscles twitched beneath her fingers, and you sucked in a sharp breath between your teeth. 

“Violet,” you growled, dropping your head down to her shoulder when she cradled her hand against you, just close enough for you to sense it there, but not enough to feel it. 

“Oh, very well,” she chuckled, as if she were not holding your very sanity in her hand. She pressed her hand to your soaking curls, making you arch harder against her. Pulling three fingers through your dripping heat, she drew it up with her fingertips as they found the place that you ached for her to touch most. She moved her fingers in slow circles, each pass making your body jolt, forcing a shuddering sigh from your throat that spilled onto her shoulder over and over. 

She kissed the top of your shoulder, her lips and tongue mapping their way to your neck. Your body began to shake, your grip on her hand tightening. She quickened the pace of her circling, adding pressure until your body curled around her, caught in a vise of pleasure that radiated out to every nerve in your body. 

You collapsed down onto her, your breathing labored, your mind blank. She dislodged her arm from between you and wrapped it around your back, bringing your clasped hands to her lips to press kisses along the tops of your entwined fingers. 

Both of you were already spent and the sun had not even finished rising, so instead of facing the day and preparing yourselves for breakfast, you burrowed back underneath the blankets. Wrapped in each other's arms, you spent the morning counting freckles and tracing smile lines, laughing and dozing, surrounded by love and the gentle sound of rain. 

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I finally got it all written, so chapters are going to be posted weekly. Massive shout out to @lifesizehysteria and @cptn-nash for being the best betas and friends a girl could wish for! This story would not have happened without them! Thank you to @shmaptainwrites for letting me use her her visuals because they are so stunning! AO3

Violet Bridgerton loved Edmund Bridgerton. That was simply a fundamental fact of life. Her husband passed away 12 years ago and it still stung when she thought of the time they should have had together. If she dwelled on the past too long, she could almost feel herself slipping into her happiest memories. However, it could not change the fact that she still had wants and needs that had been left untended since Edmund’s passing. Violet felt that she had come a long way in understanding that wanting and needing those things was not a betrayal of her husband. 

Recently, she had begun to realise just how lonely she felt, every time she saw Simon and Daphne doting on their children, or Anthony and Kate, still in the happiest throes of an early marriage. Violet realised, with a pang, she was not alone, but she was lonely. She felt it most when she was chaperoning for her children among the atmosphere of fresh love during the season. It should have been her and Edmund there together, matchmaking successfully for their children, when instead, she was alone in her endeavours. True, she had Agatha and was friendly with the other mamas of the ton, but it did not compare to the rather large hole in her heart and her life that Edmund had left behind.

When Violet had spoken with Agatha about her feelings, even in the vaguest of terms, Agatha had been excited for her. And Violet knew that Agatha and her father had been familiar, despite Agatha’s best attempts to hide it from her when they were in London during the off season. Violet had expressed that she was open to the idea of finding love, or at least companionship, once again, she just had not been expecting to find it the very next season, so imagine her surprise when she dropped her glove outside the Innovations Ball, and a very dashing man stooped to pick it up for her. 

“I believe this is yours.” The man said, his voice deep and rich, as they both rose to their full heights, offering her glove back to her with a slight smirk on his face. Violet hesitantly took the glove from his grasp, searching for the right words to say.

“Thank you,” tumbled from her lips as she smiled brightly, perhaps too brightly, at the man who had done her the unexpected kindness. She turned to the entrance to the ball before half turning back to the mysterious man, almost intent on striking up a conversation before she thought better of it and continued on her way, following her children inside. Violet, this is ridiculous, he picked up your glove, he didn’t make some grand declaration of love. Although, at her age, it was entirely possible that the two coincided.

Violet took a few steadying breaths as she entered the ballroom, trying to focus her attention on her marriage minded (and not so marriage minded) children. While having the attention of a man was not unwelcome, it certainly was not expected, and she did not really know what to do about it all. Apparently, it was one thing to coach your children through the season, but to experience even just a taste of it for herself for the first time in 30 years was something else altogether.

I really should talk to Agatha about this, she would know what to do.

As her closest friend in the ton, Agatha had become her confidante, even despite their hiccup during the winter. But sorting out her own issues would have to wait until after the ball; she did still have a job to do and a role to play after all.

***

Francesca appeared to be getting on well with Lord Samadani, as far as Violet could tell from her ‘definitely not interfering’ distance away, chatting with some of the other mamas. However, the moment her gaze dropped, Francesca had vanished, apparently leaving Lord Samadani to his own devices. 

Violet had admitted, to herself at least, that she was struggling having four eligible children on the marriage mart. Not that having four out was new in any way; in fact it had been the same for the past 2 years. However, she knew that Francesca was slightly out of her depth in the crowded ballrooms, and Eloise, despite the strange friendship she had struck up with Cressida Cowper, still looked like a fish out of water when out in society. Benedict had escaped her at every possible moment, and Colin, who had come back from his extensive travels as someone she barely recognised, all charm and suave, when she knew her son was far more caring and compassionate of others than he was clearly letting on, seemed incredibly preoccupied with assisting Penelope in her quest to find a husband. 

Presumably, that should have made it easier, but trying to corral 4 children whom she could tell did not entirely want to be at any of the ton’s outings was tiring to say the least. So, when Francesca vanished from her sight for the first time that evening, Violet was worried, but unsurprised. She knew her daughter to prefer the company of few over the company of many, which is why she flourished so much when learning the pianoforte under her aunt’s tutelage in Bath. Still, Violet was looking around for Francesca when she heard the deep voice of the man who had assisted her outside.

“Looking for your other glove?” 

Violet spun around, surprised at the interruption to see the man was smiling broadly at her. She took a brief moment to compose herself before responding.

“Uh, no. No. But thank you for earlier,” she stammered out, moving to show there was no need for help and resting her arms comfortably above her stomach as he responded, smile still gracing his features.

“Well, some cannot help being heroes.” That successfully got a small laugh out of her as she continued to look around, absent-mindedly fidgeting with her hands.

“I am looking for my daughter,” she said, as way of explanation.

“Ah. I remember that feeling.” Violet turned back to him and smiled, laughing lightly before he continued, “Mine have all since flown the nest.” Violet felt the walls around her heart dropping as she became more comfortable in the man’s presence, no longer just continuing the conversation for propriety’s sake.

“Do they ever, really?” Violet responded, slightly exasperated. He looked at her intently, perhaps beginning to truly see her. 

“No, I suppose not.” He said, looking thoughtful. Violet chuckled lightly again, allowing herself to relax more as he revealed more of himself to her before he continued, “Well, a nest is just twigs and leaves. It becomes a home when your children are near, which is… always, as you carry them with you wherever you go.” 

As the mysterious man continued talking, Violet could not help but stare at him, captivated to have found someone in society who felt as strongly about their children as she felt and as Edmund had once felt. She smiled broadly, deciding that she must get to know this man better, to perhaps strike up a true friendship between the two of them.

“I do not believe I have seen you before.” Well, there was nowhere better to start than to discover where this mystery man had come from. As she spoke, she subconsciously turned her body toward the man, briefly forgetting about her quest to find Francesca and giving her full attention to him. As she did so, Agatha approached the pair and announced her presence.

“Ah. Marcus.” She addressed the man. So, that must be his name. Marcus. Violet let the name ring around inside her head, devoting it to memory. She turned toward Agatha and murmured lightly, with a laugh inflecting her tone, acknowledging her intrusive presence in what had been shaping up to be a lovely conversation indeed. She continued as if Violet had not spoken at all. 

“You are here.” Agatha sounded disapproving as she addressed the man, Marcus. He muttered an affirmative as Violet chuckled lightly to ease some of the tension before Agatha continued, this time addressing Violet, saying, “I see you have met my brother.” Violet’s smile dropped and her eyes widened comically as she processed what her friend had just said, putting her arm out toward her to draw her attention as she hesitated to confirm.

“Y-your brother?” Surely not, Violet would have known if Agatha had a brother, especially after the two ladies bonded so much during the winter.

“Lord Marcus Anderson.” Marcus-Lord Anderson- spoke up with a light smile, confirming his connection to Agatha, and Violet could not help from smiling, even as she was stunned at who he was, as he continued with a small bow, “It is a pleasure to formally meet you.”  Finally, a formal introduction, to which Violet responded in kind.

“Violet Bridgerton.” Violet also bowed her head slightly and smiled toward Agatha before realising that she had, in her shock, introduced herself with her given name, not her title, and continued on to rectify the slight misstep. “L-Lady Bridgerton, the dowager- Formally.” Well, that was a disastrous introduction. She stammered her way through it, feeling as though she was nearly a child again who could not remember the proper introductions. She was not sure why she had suddenly become so nervous in front of Lord Anderson, practically blushing at him, though more so from embarrassment than anything else.

“Hm.” Agatha interjected with a tight-lipped smile before continuing the explanations and allowing Violet some brief respite to compose herself after the awkwardness that came of stumbling over her introduction so much, especially in front of Agatha, to her brother no less. “Yes, Marcus has just arrived in town. He’s only visiting.” Violet was certain that there was disapproval and possibly some discomfort between Agatha and Lord Anderson, who still remained to be Agatha’s brother, somehow.

“I was not aware you have a brother.” Violet said to Agatha, eyes widening in her shock, slightly quieter than the rest of the conversation in a futile attempt to avoid embarrassing Lord Anderson.

Agatha murmured in response as Lord Anderson seemed slightly taken aback, muttering as his smile slipped from his face for the first time during the conversation. He glanced at Agatha before turning back to Violet as she continued speaking, this time addressing Lord Anderson himself.

“Uh, well, welcome to Mayfair, Lord Anderson.” Lord Anderson’s smile returned as she spoke in an attempt to smooth over the awkward edges of the conversation that they seemed to be veering dangerously close to.

“Thank you. I am quite enjoying my time here already.” Violet could not help herself from grinning as he spoke, possibly about her particularly, her traitorous brain supplied before she quashed it. He is certainly married, get a hold of yourself, Violet, she told herself mentally. She glanced towards Agatha before responding, wondering to herself, why is she still here? She usually runs away swiftly at the first sign of an uncomfortable conversation, and she certainly looked uncomfortable. In fact, she almost looked like she was chaperoning them.

Mentally, Violet’s jaw dropped as she considered the possibility that Agatha thought she had to stay near, to prevent anything untoward. Is that really what Agatha thought was going on here? Surely she knows that I handle myself with the utmost decorum. Violet laughed softly in an awkward attempt to diffuse the rising tension, which prompted the others to chuckle lightly as well, only serving to heighten the awkwardness. 

Despite everything, the three of them remained rooted in place, as if whomever was first to leave would be admitting defeat. Violet felt frustrated that Agatha would not leave, as she had been enjoying her conversation with Lord Anderson immensely before she had joined them, and Violet now felt like she could not speak her mind because of Agatha’s prolonged presence.

Usually, she was so pleased to while away the match-making hours with her, however she did not usually have other stimulating company to occupy her time. Usually, she and Agatha spent the time watching her children and scheming about the best suitors for Eloise and Francesca! Suddenly remembering what had begun the whole conversation in the first place, Violet started and began to glance around in search of her daughter.

“I was looking for Francesca after she left Lord Samadani, did you happen to see her before you joined us?” As Violet spoke, she turned to Agatha, awaiting her response.

“Unfortunately, I did not, however the others around the room may have spotted her. You may need to go and ask them.” Agatha made clear her intentions to remain in place and Violet acquiesced. She bowed her head slightly to both Lord Anderson and Agatha before leaving in search of any of her children who may be able to help.

As she left the two behind, she could hear what was possibly a muffled conversation beginning, although she did not wish to stay to hear what they had to say about her, if anything. Glancing around the room, she could not see any of her children just yet, so she began to take a turn about the ballroom, looking for them as she reflected on the rather enlightening conversation with the mystery man who was, apparently, Lord Marcus Anderson, Agatha’s brother. It astounded Violet that Agatha had not mentioned a brother to her at all during their conversations together. Violet took a moment to pause and look over the room once more.

Lord Anderson was a lovely man, and she felt the very slight butterflies in her stomach that signified to her that, despite his almost certain married status, she was quite taken with him. She had come a long way in order to be able to admit that to herself, even if her first foray back into the courting scene was a disastrous introductory conversation with a married man who was her best friend’s brother, too. And it hardly counted as courting, the two had just been sharing a really rather lovely conversation indeed. Try as she might, Violet could not seem to make her thoughts behave on this particular matter. 

Looking over the room once more, Violet spotted Colin, who had just finished entertaining a small group of debutantes and appeared to be intently focusing on something or someone, and she started making her way towards him, putting all thoughts of her conversation with Lord Anderson and Agatha from her mind as she focused her efforts on her children.

***

Francesca had appeared to attract the attention of an earl, Lord Kilmartin, to be precise. Violet had not understood how the pair felt comfortable around each other when they seemed content to simply sit in silence together when he came to call on her, however she could see that Francesca was happier with Lord Kilmartin than she was with Lord Samadani. Despite that, Violet was eager to impress Lord Samadani, due to his being the Queen’s pick for Francesca.

That was before Violet and Francesca had gone shopping together in Mayfair and happened to see Lord Kilmartin. Francesca had clearly been excited to see him before the earl abruptly left their conversation. No matter how uninterested she said she was, her actions spoke louder, as they always had for Francesca, her quietest daughter. Violet recognised the quiet thrill of love blossoming even when the two of them were silent together. She also knew that Francesca had disregarded all possibility of continuing a courtship with Lord Kilmartin, which had led Violet to be watching over Francesca dancing with Lord Samadani at the Queen’s Ball. While her attention appeared to be devoted to her daughter, her mind wandered, thinking back to the Innovations Ball and the conversation that she and Lord Anderson had been having. 

Violet had found her thoughts returning to him more and more frequently when she had a quiet moment to herself. Despite her best efforts to avoid focusing on him, her mind simply would not be swayed. Her thoughts continued to wonder if she may get a chance to get to know him any better at this ball. She had spotted him while everyone had been watching the ballet, not that she’d been looking for him, her mind insisted quietly. However, it was not done for a lady to approach a gentleman, certainly not a lady in her position, so she remained quietly hopeful on the sidelines, watching Francesca dance. As if her thoughts had summoned him, she heard the rich timbre of Lord Anderson’s voice call her name.

“Lady Bridgerton.” She turned to see the object of her thoughts strolling towards her with a plate of pastries and a bright smile, offering them to her. She smiled brightly to him, responding in kind.

“Lord Anderson.” She laughed lightly as she politely declined the proffered food.  “Oh, thank you, but I have no appetite.” She had eaten, perhaps more than she should, just after the ballet and could barely handle the thought of more food. Eager to continue the conversation as Lord Anderson placed the plate down, Violet kept watch over Francesca as she asked, “Are you enjoying your evening?

“Oh, very much. I have not spent much time in Mayfair since the early days of my marriage.” Oh, so he was definitely married then. While she smiled and hummed her acknowledgement outwardly, Violet’s heart sunk slightly, though she forbade herself from thinking about that too carefully, in case she stumbled across some thoughts that may have struck a little too true. “In the countryside, one can walk and look at trees and lounge about one’s house.” Lord Anderson commented, to Violet’s amusement, as he took to watching Francesca and Lord Samadani as well. “Enlighten me, however does one pass the time here in the city?” He asked.

“I am afraid most of us spend our time meddling in the lives of our young people. At least, that is my and your sister’s favourite pastime.” Violet answered, keeping her eyes trained on the young people in question, so as to avoid accidentally staring at him. When she glanced at him, she could see that he was looking at her with something akin to astonishment.

“My sister likes to meddle?” He sounded almost… incredulous.

“Well, in truth that word does not do her justice. She moulds society to her will, and she is rather good at it.” Violet smiled, thinking on the truth of those words as she turned directly toward Lord Anderson then, in time for him to quietly acknowledge her. She realised that he seemed stunned by her words. “You do not know that about her?” Now it was Violet’s turn to be incredulous as she took a step to turn to him, abandoning all pretences of watching Francesca any longer.

“We are… becoming reacquainted.” Lord Anderson looked uncomfortable under Violet’s scrutiny. What had happened between the two siblings to cause this constant discomfort in either each other’s presence or at the evidence that they had barely been acquainted at all? As she opened her mouth to continue, he cut her off, in an effort to steer the conversation. “And who is the target of her moulding at the moment?”

“Ah. My daughter, Francesca.” Violet said softly as she turned back to the dance floor, allowing Lord Anderson to compose himself after she had accidentally confronted him. She appraised Francesca with more concern as Lord Anderson murmured his recognition. Violet continued, concern tinging her voice as she watched carefully, “Though, I am not certain she has yet found that spark.”

“Well, for what it is worth…” Lord Anderson began, continuing to watch Francesca and Lord Samadani.

“Mm?” Violet prompted as she turned towards him once more.

“… sometimes a fire is slow to burn.” Lord Anderson finished, and Violet hummed gently, allowing him to continue. “My own marriage was not a love match, and, admittedly, not very passionate in the beginning.” Lord Anderson chuckled slightly. Violet turned away from him, unable to prevent her smile from vanishing as she listened to him. He did not need to see the slight sadness and disapproval that Violet could not stop from reaching her eyes. “But I became very fond of her.” At his words, Violet watched Lord Anderson directly, content to see something akin to love in his eyes. “We were happy until the day she died.” Violet smiled softly, allowing him a moment to collect himself before offering her condolences.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Violet would not have admitted it to anyone, but she was at least a little pleased that he was a widower, for he would understand her, perhaps more than most, especially given that his marriage was a happy one, a rarity in the Ton. “Maybe there is hope, then.” Violet continued brightly, thinking of Francesca and Lord Samadani, a good match theoretically, however Violet could see when her daughter was uncomfortable. Lord Anderson hummed his agreement before Violet spoke of her own experiences. “I, myself, had a love match, so that is all I know.” Violet remained steadfast in looking at Francesca with tears pricking her eyes until she could no longer bear it. She glanced at Lord Anderson, seeing only compassion in his face.

“You have my deepest sympathies.” Lord Anderson said, maintaining eye contact with her for the first time all evening. Violet bowed her head slightly in gratitude and smiled sadly at him, turning to look at Francesca once more before he continued, “But I am envious. You had the chance to experience a love match.” Violet turned back towards him then, laughing lowly as she remembered a stunningly similar sentiment expressed by his sister only a few months ago. “That is something I, myself, have not given up on finding in my second act.” Lord Anderson finished, and Violet could not stop looking at him. Here was someone else who was in almost the same position as she was, and he had just openly admitted to her that he was willing to find a true love match in his second foray into the courtship market.

As he glanced at her, she smiled ever so slightly, in awe at his confidence. It had taken her 12 years to even admit that she was willing to try once more, and she had resigned herself to perhaps not finding true love once more. Violet was unaware if she was even capable of loving someone as wholly and truthfully as she had loved Edmund. As she was contemplating this, the song ended and Francesca curtsied to Lord Samadani. Lord Anderson watched them and glanced up to the balcony where the Queen and Agatha were conversing before he excused himself. Violet bowed her head as he left her, before retraining her eyes on Francesca and Lord Samadani, allowing her thoughts to be consumed by them instead of the handsome Lord Anderson.

[lifesizehysteria]

@sleepyfireball @cptn-nash lmao this is us and our unhinged chats 🤣🤣

they match each other’s freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public