#to love the stars fic

[autumnillustration]

"This committee and its members have spoken: no more Naboo for you."

(AU where post-banishment Ahsoka gets zapped back to TPM and starts strategising a battle plan against Fate. Link to fic)

[hollis-art]

fem hilson is attacking my brain like they're seagulls and i happened to bring food to the beach,,,

and in regard to my original fem hilson post where i mentioned that wilson for sure had an impulsive pixie cut that she very much regretted:

women,,,,

[star-hoon]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

disclaimer: these are all smut so minors dni.

★ - favorite

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[eggdrawsthings]

The Nikto called the kid a “fledgling Jedi”, saying Din had no idea what he could “do”. The Armorer also called the Jedi “sorcerers” and though Din doesn’t know anything about sorcery, he does know there’s something magical about the kid’s hugs. Something powerful. They have the power to erase bad dreams and painful conversations. They have the power to heal hurts and pains and age-old loneliness. They have the power to make Din laugh like he is now.  If that isn’t magic, Din doesn’t know what else is.

Dream Child by @muchadoloo

[baeshijima]

mr reca fic where he’s suffering a creative slump due to the lack of good scripts (by his standards) from various screenwriters. he feels himself going positively insane with every script he’s given.

it’s too dull. it’s too predictable. this one has no creative flair whatsoever!! that one just doesn’t spark enough imagination!!!

it’s troublesome, really. some think he’s really going through it, while others believe the scripts he’s been given won’t bring him enough money. but really, who cares about monetary value when it is he who cannot even begin to picture himself enjoying the process that comes with each script?

and so that is how he finds himself wandering around aimlessly. sometimes the outdoors is necessary for the mind, and who knows? perhaps he really will find something that will give him a spark. hmm, those trees are looking a little dull. the sky overhead is too cloudy. hm? did he just hear thunder—

something collides into his chest, a choked “oof!” following soon after. he stumbles backwards a little, papers flying through the air around him. he blinks once, twice, at the sight of you on the ground, muttering something under your breath before a sharp gasp escapes you, hastily scrambling to gather the papers fluttering and strewn around.

one such paper falls into his hands. he glances over its contents, skimming through it as he goes to pass it over to you with an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.

this… this is genius! this is absolutely the pinnacle of writing!! while a little rough around the edges (as drafts usually tend to be), his once clouded mind is now clear, giving way to a blank canvas which slowly depicts the imagery your writing induces. idea after idea pours into his brain as he can visualise exactly what he wants, his body trembling and heart pounding as he insantly fixates on your panicked form still collecting all the fallen papers.

“yes… yes! this is what i was looking for! everything about this is pure artistry! the possibilities are endless, the sky is the limit!!”

this is possibly the happiest and freest he has felt in what seems like eons! seriously, compared to those other mind-numbing scripts this truly is the pinnacle of writing itself.

a laugh full of pure, unadulterated glee escapes him, careful not to crinkle the god-sent paper cradled in his palms. “you! you’re a genius!”

“i’m a wha…?”

he whirls in the direction of the source of the voice, further praises and a proposal for a collaboration on the tip of his tongue, only for his breath to catch in his throat.

you… you’re so radiant! even with that disheveled appearance and absolutely adorable confused expression you’re giving him, he never realised such beauty existed! not only does your writing fill him with endless creativity, but his pounding heart, parched throat and warming skin tells him you’re definitely the main character!

but wait! if you were to be the main character, then would that make him the main character’s love interest? surely he wouldn’t have had such a cliché meet-cute like bumping into each other if he wasn’t the love interest! but what if there is a second love interest? no, no, he can oust them…

you, on the other hand, believe you’re about to get whiplash instead of the man, baffled at how he instantly switched from a maniac to stark silence to muttering senselessly with a dreamy expression.

well, each to their own. you have more pressing matters, and that’s to quickly return home and continue fantasising before you forget the idea! but first, you have to get the last piece of paper back…

“um… sir? can i have my paper back, please?”

in an instant, he kneels in front of you. now that you’re at eye level, he certainly is very handsome. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought this was some movie or drama plot with him as the main lead! oh, but why is he holding your hands—

“yes, i will spend the rest of my life with you.”

“…what?”

tldr; you’re just a silly writer who daydreams far too much for their own good, and somehow managed to bag top-tier director mr reca with the power of said daydreams. (his ever-growing obsession with you is concerning to say the least but, hey! what genius isn’t at least a little insane?)

[effemira]

[fatherofpuppets]

So, I read THIS, and my life will never be the same

Go and read it

Right now.

[gojoidyll]

Sunday joins the Astral Express, and Dan Heng gets easily jealous of how close you two are.

fem!reader

Dan Heng furrowed his brow as he watched you grab onto Sunday’s hand and tug him behind you, “come on! I’ll give you a tour!”

He was only brought out of his thoughts when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, she is just being nice to him.”

“Must she act so familiar with him though,” he fired back without even looking at Himeko who tried to comfort him the best she could.

Sighing a little, Himeko kept her small smile, “y/n probably just doesn’t want Sunday to feel alone. Before you and the others joined the Astral Express it was just her, Welt and me taking care of the Stellarons and trailblazing our own path. And she… was… always so distant. Broken almost. But then she met you and March and then Stelle joined too. And she finally started to smile again.”

Dan Heng fully turned towards Himeko then.

“All I’m saying,” she said continuing, “is that she just doesn’t want to isolate Sunday despite what has happened between all of us in Penacony.”

“And of course this is the main train car! We mainly gather up here when we’re about to warp.”

Dan Heng looked back to where you were his eyes once again training on how your hand held onto Sunday’s…, or was Sunday holding onto you. He huffed. He new is was petty, but he couldn’t stop feeling that jealousy well up inside of him as you continued to pull Sunday around.

“Hey, Dan Heng! Why so frowny?”

When you spotted him, you had immediately trotted over to him, Sunday in tow.

“I’m not frowny,” he said even as he didn’t do much to try to change his soured expression.

“Could have fooled me,” you tried to joke.

Sunday, all the while, was watching you both carefully. The weight of your palm in his hand becoming increasingly apparent as the pieces started to fall into place. You… were a bit oblivious, but he didn’t mind that. Dan Heng did though.

Well, whatever. Sunday was used to fighting for his place. So if he had to fight for your hand too, then so be it.

“Oh! Are we leaving now,” you said excitedly when PomPom’s voice broke out over the intercom to let everyone know they should prepare to warp.

Everyone else was already getting ready as you grabbed Dan Heng’s hand with your free one, “let’s all sit together!”

And even as you tugged them both along, their eyes caught one another instead. A silent rivalry formed instantaneously.

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍

[saturnneedsspace]

Dean misremembering the purgatory portal scene is altering my brain chemistry in so many ways. What do you mean Dean remembered it as him not being able to save Cas because he wasn't strong enough, but in reality Cas let go??? We know he remembers some things perfectly like when Cas went into the lake because he had nightmares about that, but how many other things does he misremember? Does he remember Mary dying? Does he remember all his fights with Cas? Does he remember all the times Sam died? This was such a missed opportunity to do more. They could've made Dean even more traumatized by having him misremember something for so long, and then him having to learn it was completely different and having a whole crisis about it.

[bibxrbie]

"Luke Skywalker isn’t like the old Jedi. He saves Vader with his attachments!”

Wrong!

Luke Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi, after his confrontation with the Emperor drags Darth Vader through the destructing Death Star. He’s desperate, knuckles white under the heavy weight of his father’s body, a little boy dragging his dad to safety. He sets Vader down for a moment, to catch his breath or maybe to get a better grip. He goes to grab Vader again, but Vader, uncomfortable and in pain, asks Luke to take off the mask. He wants to see Luke through his eyes instead of the eyes Palpatine built for him. Luke refuses, says that removing the mask is a sure way for Vader to die. Luke doesn’t want Vader dead, he wants Vader alive. Not to hold him accountable for his many evil acts, but for the same reason why Luke Skywalker can’t kill Darth Vader; Vader is his father and Luke loves him.

And yet, after a moment, Luke removes Vader’s mask. He doesn’t want to, he hesitates, but he removes the mask with enough slowness to allow Vader to take it back. In that moment, Luke sets aside his desire for Vader in his life, sets aside his desire to see him live, and sets aside his entire mission, the reason he was even on the Death Star in the place. In his compassion for his father, Luke stays with Vader until he dies. It is this moment where we see him be the best damn Jedi he can be. I’d even argue that this moment is the greatest example of non-attached love we see. Because Luke lets Vader go! He lets his father die, and in some ways, by removing the mask, he too kills Vader, he stays with him until his last moment, gives him the kindness of granting his last wish and finally chooses Vader.

And Luke doesn’t have to do this. If Luke Skywalker’s love for his father was an attachment, he would ignore Vader and continue dragging him to the escape pod, put his desire for a father as his central focus and ignore Vader’s wants and discomfort. Maybe he would even save him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Vader dies.

He builds a Jedi burial for his father and watches it burn the remnants of Vader and Anakin Skywalker away. He mourns Vader, he mourns what they could’ve had as father and son, considers what ifs and maybe-if-I-did-this. Vader/ Anakin is released from his mortal body, from his ‘crude matter’ and Luke lets him go. He says one final goodbye to Anakin. Then, he joins Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the rest of the Rebels and celebrates their victory. He lives in the present and celebrates what he has instead of what he lost.

Luke Skywalker is THE Jedi. Everything about Luke Skywalker serves as the foundational cornerstone of the Jedi, everything about the Jedi as a culture and philosophy is reflected in his character. Luke’s desire for the New Jedi Order isn’t to throw away the values of the old Order, but to vitalise them, breathe life back into dying lungs, and rebuild a path that people set out on their way to destroy. (Yes, his Order is different from the Old, but that’s because it has to be. He doesn’t have the resources or the safety of the Old Order.) The philosophies of the Jedi are difficult and they aren’t for everyone, and like the perfect Jedi that Luke is, he struggles and stumbles and sometimes he even rejects it. But, no matter how far he falls, it is a way of life he chooses again and again and again. It is a way of life that welcomes him back each time

[kazehita]

If I were not myself, would this be easier? (ao3)

[lifesizehysteria]

I love this so much, it’s so good! I love all the family dynamics and I love the way this chapter weaves that in between everything going on between Violet and Reader, and the drama unfolding as well. Once again, I’m so impressed with the ease with which you are building this story and their modern world. It feels so authentic and true to the characters we know from the regency era. Two lines that I feel really encapsulates the most important elements of the chapter are this:

Violet to reader: “Yes, of course time with them is precious, but why would I say no to something we all wanted?”

Reader to Violet: “I’m not going anywhere.”

This so the essence of what you’re creating and the dynamic that is growing between them. They clearly care so so much about each other already and I’m so excited to see how these sentiments continue to grow into the romance that is (very slowly!!! 😩) coming.

Thank you for sharing this, Mimi!!!! 💜💜💜💜

𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 [𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘]

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

SUMMARY — Violet and Hyacinth attend Francesca's performance with the London Philharmonic and receive some shocking news.

WORD COUNT — 4.1K

WARNINGS — descriptions of panic and anxiety

NOTE — You guys it's been a hell of a week it's a miracle I'm getting this formatted now (ie. it's a miracle I remembered). Anyways hope you enjoy this chapter as things get more intriguing.

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑽: 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑻

Violet watched as Hyacinth rolled on the balls of her feet while they waited for an usher in the theatre to  lead them where they were to be seated. Unsure of why her daughter was so fidgety, Violet wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her more into her side, pressing a kiss to the top of her neatly done hair. 

“Thank you for coming with me, dearest.” 

Hyacinth looked over at her mother and smiled, leaning a little more into her hold, careful not to have her hair catch onto her dangly earrings or to get any makeup on her shoulder. 

“I miss Franny too,” she said. “It’s nice she could get us tickets, even nicer that Gregory isn’t here to ruin it.” 

“Hyacinth!” Violet chastised with a chuckle, tickling her sides a little. 

“No, but seriously,” Hyacinth looked up at her mother, “it’s been a while since I’ve had a Mum and me day. It was fun getting ready together and going out for dinner beforehand.” 

“Yes and I must say I am pleasantly surprised I did not walk out of the washroom looking like a clown,” she teased and Hyacinth stuck her tongue out. 

“You love it when I do your makeup,” she nagged. “And pick your clothes, look at you Mum, you’re smashing.” 

Violet laughed at Hyacinth’s comment and looked down at her attire. It had been a while since she had really dressed up, mainly sticking to dress pants and blouses for work and at home, but Hyacinth had dug around in her closet and found a blue off the shoulders dress that she was entirely convinced she was now much too old for, but was lovingly bullied into wearing by her youngest regardless. Not to mention, Hyacinth was now old enough to steal her clothes as well, and so her dress was also a little number from the back of Violet’s closet. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, I can take you to your seats,” an usher came and introduced himself, taking the two to their booth that Francesca had especially reserved for them. 

Both Violet and Hyacinth were anxious for the performance to start, and anyone who was watching could tell how much their smiles widened once Francesca made her entrance onto the stage. 

“Wow, Mum, look at her dress!” Hyacinth exclaimed in a whisper. 

Francesca was never one for much extravagance, and so, Violet was sure her peers or her conductor had something to do with her choice of outfit, a dress that trailed behind her gloriously and shone against the bright stage lights, accentuating her daughter’s radiance. 

Violet noticed how Francesca’s eyes drifted over to their booth, and both she and Hyacinth gave her a small wave, making her smile before she sat down and waited for the cue from the conductor to begin with the opening piece. 

She had never once imagined in the many performances of the London Philharmonic she’d attended with her husband, that one day she would be sitting and watching her daughter grace that very same stage. She only wished Edmund had been alive to see it. 

At the end of the performance, an usher came to grab Violet and Hyacinth, expressing that Francesca had asked for them to be escorted backstage so she could see them. 

By the time they managed to weave through the crowds of people, Francesca was in much simpler clothing, sipping on some water and speaking to the first violinist.

When she saw her relatives, she quickly wrapped up her conversation with her colleague and made her way over to her mother and sister. Hyacinth wasted no time in giving Francesca the biggest hug and singing her praises while Violet quickly pulled out her phone and took a few photos to keep for herself and maybe the rest of her children as memories of tonight.

“Mum, what did you think?” Francesca asked once she could finally get a word in between Hyacinth’s rambling. 

“I loved it,” Violet grinned, pulling her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Your father would be so proud if he could see you like this,” she whispered. “He was always proud of all of you, but this would have been special to share with him.” 

“I was thinking about him tonight, too,” Francesca admitted, still holding onto her mother. “Is it odd I almost felt like he was here?” she chuckled a little nervously as the two pulled away. 

“Not at all,” Violet held her daughter’s face in her hands, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Actually that’s quite special,” she smiled, “but speaking of being here, where is John?” 

“Oh, he and his family came to my show last night before heading back to Scotland. John went with them for a week to take care of some family affairs,” she explained while they began to walk out of the backstage area in order to get to Violet’s car so that they could head out. 

As they re-entered the main entrance of the theatre, Francesca and Violet were so involved in their conversation, they didn’t notice someone familiar amongst the crowd, but Hyacinth’s eyes and ears were sharp, beaming as she ran off. 

“Hyacinth!” Violet exclaimed immediately, noticing her daughter’s escape. They quickly followed her path until they saw her, arms wrapped tightly around you while you laughed, a little surprised to see the youngest Bridgerton at the Royal Festival Hall.

“Goodness, Hyacinth, what are you doing here?” you asked, returning her hug with just as much force. Just as you asked your question you looked up and saw Violet standing there in front of you. 

You still held onto Hyacinth, but you were caught even more off guard by the staggeringly simple elegance Violet always seemed to have, now only accentuated by her choice of dress, the blue making her eyes more striking than you’d ever thought you’d seen them. 

“Violet,” your voice was much softer than you had anticipated. “Hi.” 

“What a pleasant surprise,” Violet smiled, enjoying watching the interaction between you and her daughter, each of you with an arm still wrapped around the other as you faced the other women. 

“Yes, quite pleasant,” you cleared your throat. “How did you two end up here tonight? A mother daughter outing?” 

“Sort of,” Hyacinth nodded. 

“We were here to see my daughter, Francesca, perform,” Violet placed a hand on Francesca’s back. 

“You’re Francesca Kilmartin,” you looked over at her, finally taking her in and recognizing who she was. “Oh my God, I thought you looked familiar.” 

Violet did the honours of introducing you formally, explaining your name and position to the second youngest daughter in the family. 

“I guess I never made the connection,” you admitted. “I think I’ve seen you in some of the family photos around the house, but your name made it totally slip past me.” 

“Yes, I recently got married,” Francesca explained. “I love being a Bridgerton, but…” 

Violet pulled Francesca closer and kissed her temple. 

“Life is quieter as a Kilmartin,” Violet finished, completely understanding where her daughter was coming from. 

“Can you come with us tonight?” Hyacinth looked up at you. “We always go out for ice cream after Franny’s shows.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, I know your Mum doesn’t get to spend a lot of time with you guys, and she’s probably sick of me by now,” you chuckled. 

“I would like it if you could join us,” Francesca said. “I’ve heard bits and pieces about you from Anthony, but it would be nice to get to know you better.” 

“Oh, all good things I hope,” you said as you looked over at Violet, searching her eyes for any hint that she didn’t want you there, extremely careful not to overstep with her family. 

“Ice cream is always better with more people,” Violet assured you. “Did you taxi here?” 

You nodded your head. 

“We can go all together, I was planning on taking Francesca home afterwards, and she lives close to your place anyways,” Violet explained. “Shall we?” 

“Yes, definitely,” Hyacinth nodded, taking your arm and Francesca’s and dragging you along, Violet trailing behind with a laugh on her lips. 

Once you were all piled into Violet’s car, Hyacinth was quick to take over the music and you could hear Violet sigh with exasperation. 

“Dearest, we’ve been listening to this album on repeat, can’t you pick something else?” she asked. 

“Mum, you don’t understand, I have to prepare myself for the concert,” Hyacinth said. 

“Yes, but even concert preparations sometimes need a break,” you chuckled. “Why don't you indulge your Mum on this one?” 

Hyacinth looked reluctant while Violet pulled out of the parking lot, but she then pulled up her phone again, scrolling through her playlists until she landed on something else. 

You could see Violet’s eyes land on yours through the rearview mirror, a thankful smile on her lips, especially once she’d heard Hyacinth had switched to the music her grandfather used to play before he passed away.

“So, do you come to see the Philharmonic often?” Francesca turned back and looked at you while she asked her question. 

“I used to, but then life got a little hectic. This is the first show I’ve been to in a while,” you admitted. 

“As a member I have some privileges when it comes to seating. If you ever want to come to a show just let me know and I can see what I can do,” she offered. “It’s always nice to see someone closer in age to myself in the audience,” she chuckled. 

“I can imagine,” you nodded your head. “None of the other family could join tonight?” 

“Oh, God, no,” Hyacinth shook her head. “Getting them all in one place is impossible.” 

“They’ve all come and seen me, just not at the same time,” Francesca explained. “Mum’s come the most, obviously.” 

“And I hold onto that title with much pride,” Violet assured, pulling down another side street before parking the car in front of what looked like a small, empty ice cream shop. 

“How do you always find these little hole-in-the-wall establishments?” you asked while stepping out of the car, adjusting your blouse. 

“Mum likes to find places where no one else goes,” Hyacinth explained. “Most of the time.” 

“Yes, most of the time,” Violet agreed. “I think Edmund and Francesca actually came across this place together on a day out. Didn’t you?” 

Francesca nodded her head. 

“It was after he took me to see the orchestra for the first time,” she explained. “I was kind of hoping we might come here.” 

“Us Bridgertons are one thing if not sentimental,” Violet chuckled. 

“Would you three hurry? I want to take a picture and show Gregory what he’s missing out on,” Hyacinth said, while pushing the door to the shop open.

Francesca was the first to acquiesce to her sister while you and Violet trailed behind. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your family outing,” you found yourself apologizing. 

Violet was in the middle of rummaging through her purse when you said that and she looked at you, surprised. 

“It’s not an intrusion,” Violet said, pulling out her wallet. “Hardly so.” 

“You don’t have to sugar coat it for me, I know how precious time with your kids is. Especially the ones who don’t live with you anymore.” 

You looked back into the glass window of the shop, seeing Francesca and Hyacinth playfully teasing each other about various flavours. 

“Yes, of course time with them is precious, but why would I say no to something we all wanted?” she asked you. “You heard Francesca and Hyacinth, they both wanted you to come, I wanted you to come.” 

You looked over at Violet and chewed the inside of your cheek, nodding your head. 

She placed a hand on your arm, using the other to open the door, now seeing that Francesca and Hyacinth had already gotten their cones. 

You and Violet both ordered, but before she could notice, you passed your credit card over to the cashier and paid for the four of you. When Violet reached the till and noticed everything was paid for she sent you a look and you shrugged your shoulders. 

“My treat,” you smiled. “Can’t quite convince Anthony this one’s a business expense.” 

Violet chuckled and conceded, moving over to take a seat with her daughters, Hyacinth already prepared with her camera to take a picture and send it to Gregory. 

It was an odd sight, four very well dressed ladies in an ice cream shop past nine o’clock, but you also supposed that was part of the Bridgerton charm. 

“So, how did you end up working for my Mum?” Francesca asked. “And Anthony, I guess, as well, but everyone knows it’s really her that runs things.” 

Hyacinth snorted, and you and Violet both chuckled at Francesca’s words, and you thought back to a few months ago when you had first gotten the job. 

“Well, I had just left my old position at a holding company, and I heard through a friend that your family was looking for a new financial manager. I’d heard about everything that happened on the news and I must admit, before, I didn’t really know who you guys were, but everything I saw made me think that I might actually enjoy this position. So, I emailed your mother, we arranged an interview that was interrupted by a Whitney Houston song, if I remember correctly,” you teased and looked over at Hyacinth, who blushed with a laugh and apologized. “And the rest is history.” 

“And do you like it?” Francesca asked. 

“Oh, I love it,” you nodded. “Not just the work, but getting to know your family has been quite the treasure,” you looked at Violet fondly. “I only hope it continues.” 

“I’m sure it will,” Violet nodded before looking down at her cup of ice cream and taking a spoon of it to put in her mouth. 

The moment was interrupted when your phone began to ring, and pulling it out of your pocket, you apologized and excused yourself, needing to take it. 

Francesca and Hyacinth continued with a conversation while Violet’s eyes remained on you, studying your body language, how you responded to what was being said on the other side. 

She began to worry when she saw your hand move to cover your mouth, stress evident and written all over your face. She quickly put down her cup and went over to you, pulling her dress slightly to adjust it while her heels clicked against the tile floor where she walked. 

“Is everything okay?” Violet asked quietly. 

You shook your head, still listening to what was going on. 

“Work or family?” 

Violet chewed her lip, waiting for your response. 

“Work,” you mouthed, and Violet could feel a lump begin to form in her throat. As much as she was happy that whatever the crisis was didn’t involve your family, she couldn’t help but wonder who in her family it did.

Eventually, you hung up the phone and sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Violet, I’m so sorry. I-We have to go deal with this,” you pointed to your phone. 

“Is it…?” she asked, thinking she knew what the situation was just based on your response.

You nodded your head and looked away while rubbing the back of your neck.

“Mum, is everything okay?” Hyacinth asked, sensing the tension between you. 

“Just a work problem. I’m afraid we might have to cut our evening short,” she apologized to her daughters. 

“Mum, why don’t you leave Hyacinth with me at my home tonight,” Francesca suggested. “John’s away and I have the extra space…” 

“Hyacinth?” Violet looked at her daughter to see if she was on board with the change in plans and she seemed more than happy to comply. 

You all grabbed your ice cream and headed out of the store, first taking Francesca and Hyacinth to Francesca’s home before re-routing to Bridgerton House. 

“Violet,” you paused her before she pulled out of the driveway. “Maybe I can take the wheel.” 

She looked over at you, the stress and uncertainty of the situation clearly getting to her. 

“We have to talk about this and I don’t want you to be stressed and driving at the same time.”

Violet’s hands were still firmly on the steering wheel, looking ahead at Francesca’s townhome, seeing the lights go on and the silhouette of her two daughters behind the curtains of the windows. 

“Okay,” she said quietly while turning off the car and unbuckling her seatbelt, switching sides with you before you started your conversation and the drive back. 

“So, Pat called me,” you began. “She saw something on the news that said Landon had released a statement saying you were complicit in the embezzlement from the charities.” 

Violet’s heart dropped to her stomach and she immediately felt her hands going to settle there in an attempt to suppress her nausea. 

“I think I’m going to vomit,” she covered her mouth. 

You looked between her and the road a few times before pulling over and giving her a chance to breathe without the added motion of the car. 

“Violet, it’s not looking good,” you shook your head. “At least from an optics perspective.”

She could feel the bile begin to rise in her throat at the mere thought of what tomorrow might bring. She wanted to hold her head between her legs, to steady herself, but she couldn’t do anything in the dress she was wearing, let alone in the car.

You pressed your lips together and looked at her, clearly still in shock from the news and made a decision to turn around and instead head in the direction of your apartment, at least temporarily, as a landing pad. 

Violet hadn’t spoken a word since you had turned around, and even when you arrived in the underground parking, slipping out quietly and heading up to your floor, she remained that way. 

When you entered the apartment, you rummaged through some old boxes, finding some clothes a previous partner of yours had conveniently never picked up and you had never gotten rid of, handing them to Violet so that she could get changed.

When she came out of the washroom, her face was washed and wiped clean of any makeup, her jewelry most likely tucked away in her purse, her hair fell into loose curls on either side of her shoulders, and the clothes hung off her frame in such a casual way you’d never really seen before on her.

You hated yourself for staring when the situation was so dire, but she always seemed to make it hard not to.

“Did Pat say anything more?” she asked. “About what….what was on the news? In the statement?” 

“Not much,” you shook your head. “I phoned the lawyers while you were getting changed, they haven’t heard from the police yet, but if this is legitimate, they’ll expect a request to interview you.”

Violet ran a hand across her face, squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to let overwhelmed tears form in her eyes. 

Her stomach began to churn again and she shook her head, moving over to your couch, sitting down and placing her head between her knees, attempting to take deep, steadying breaths. 

You kneeled down in front of her, placing one hand on her back, the other on her leg, both rubbing gentle and soothing patterns. 

“What am I going to do?” 

Her voice was so quiet and broken; you could feel your heart begin to tighten in your chest. 

There were a million questions running through Violet’s head, but none stopped long enough for her to ponder, creating a hurricane in her mind, the noise of thunder becoming louder and louder until she felt a hand against her cheek. The sounds became more muffled. Her head lifted, gently, tenderly, until she saw your eyes, the sympathy, the conviction that things would work out in the end. It wasn’t until your arms wrapped around her and her face was partially buried in your shoulder, her own hands wrapped around you gingerly at first, until she gained the confidence to hold onto you like you were her only tether to the world, did everything fall silent. The thoughts racing in her mind, quiet. And she clung onto that feeling for dear life. 

There was no question in your mind that Violet was innocent. Of course she was; she was Violet. Nothing in her nature or her character pointed in that direction, but you knew that wasn’t what the public would see. 

“I-” she began, her voice slightly choked. “I would understand if you wanted to leave. My family’s employment, I mean. We both know it isn’t a position that will be around forever, I-I wouldn’t want to tarnish-” 

“Violet?” 

“Yes?” she whispered into your shoulder. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded her head, the tears she had been trying so hard to hide and push away finally pouring out of her eyes like silent rain, wetting the fabric of your dress as she clutched onto you. 

A part of her was always hoping you would say that, given the nature of your work together, she’d like to think your relationship had become more than just employer to employee, but a true friendship and partnership, and this surely confirmed that for her. 

“The children,” she said, pulling away from you for a moment. “I-I have to call them and tell them before it gets too late a-and before they see it anywhere.” 

She wiped away her tears quickly with her hands before you passed her a tissue, which she used to quietly blow her nose before pulling out her phone and started with Anthony, knowing it would be the latest where he was. 

One by one, she called and spoke to her children with almost alarming calmness, explaining to them the situation, how it would affect her and then, in turn, how it might affect them. You could see she was most concerned when speaking to Gregory and Hyacinth, both of them having been much more sheltered from the media than their siblings and knowing the spotlight could be hot and intense.

She figured after tonight, when Hyacinth came back from Francesca’s, it would be good for everyone to lay low for a little while. 

Next, you called Pat together, trying to craft a statement you could release to the public in an attempt to mitigate some of the damage done to the family’s reputation, but there was a key and strategy on what to say and when to release it, all of which Pat was very helpful with. 

After your call with Pat, you checked the time and saw it was getting quite late, and Violet would need to be home tomorrow to deal with everything that was coming. 

“Let me drive you home,” you suggested, but Violet had since sobered up to the reality of what was happening and shook her head. 

“No, I can drive myself,” she said. “It might be my last chance for a while.” 

You nodded, understanding her need for some time alone, and gave her a bag for her dress before letting her go with one more reassuring hug that you both lingered in a little longer than normal. 

Given the late hour, the streets were more or less empty on the way back to Bridgerton House, and Violet savoured the silence the car ride home offered, with one hand on the wheel and her other elbow resting against the car door, her fingers interlaced in her hair. 

She pulled into the driveway and walked through the front door,  noticing a few lights were still on, signalling to her that Gregory was still awake. 

She heard a rustle she assumed was coming from the kitchen, and before long, her son was in front of her, taking a moment to look her over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in sweatpants.” 

Violet chuckled a little at his comment, using it to cover up a sniffle and wipe away a few tears that were stubborn and still lingered. 

“Mum, are you okay?” he came closer to her, watching as she bit the inside of her cheek and carefully shook her head, which was all it took for the young man to close the distance between them, wrapping her up in his arms. 

Violet wrapped her arms around her son, and they stayed there in silence for a moment before Gregory pulled away and placed a hand on her back leading her towards the kitchen. 

“Come on, I made you some tea. You should have a cup before bed.” 

She leaned into her son’s side and gave him another silent squeeze, so grateful that through his years, he’d retained his caring and kind nature. 

And through all the craziness that was yet to come, Violet thought, perhaps, she might appreciate the calm before the storm. 

TAGLIST —

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

[stump-not-found]

The kids talk shipping with their sci-fi uncle, Ford meets up with some old friends, and Stan discovers the effects of leaving something untreated.

Overall, Stanley just really, truly, does not like any of this.

[rochenn]

Well done.

Illustration for Divergences by @legobiwan which still lives rent free in my mind. Kind of an update of this take on the same scene from last year because oh boy it's been a minute :'D

[human-rocket]

My second contribution to the @obikinbb! Unfortunately, my author had to drop out so there is no fic to accompany the artwork, but thank you to the mods for organizing such a fun event!

To give the art a little context, Obi-Wan is a lonely lighthouse keeper who gets stormed in with his grocery delivery guy, Anakin.