#v: bridgerton.

[debreuil]

the dowager countess de winter, though she loathes being referred to as a dowager; she prefers anne, countess de winter or simply lady de winter as forms of address (it's still correct to address her as such, since her son is a child and thus has not married).

of french origin, though very reticent about her past and her upbringing, and much of her time in france in general. she sees through madame delacroix in a matter of days upon joining mayfair society.

big fan of high collars, chemisettes, ruffs, elaborate necklaces, etc. not terribly fashionable for a woman who is otherwise in vogue, but she gets away with it because of her widowhood + her being french + her friends in high places. for similar reasons (i.e. to hide her scars), she stays away from sleeveless gowns, and even cap sleeves.

twenty eight as of season one, though she married at twenty, and bore her first and only child (a boy, john francis) at twenty two. her husband died shortly thereafter of ~ unknown causes ~. her son is the spitting image of her in every sense of the word, and he is a massive mama's boy. the two are, especially unusually for the time period, joined at the hip.

she is considered to be a friend of some of the most notable men in english society; namely, robert jenkinson (the prime minister), the duke of wellington, and the prince regent. no-one is quite sure why or how she has friendships with these men who are between one and two decades her senior.

her son is the current earl de winter, but due to his being ... well, six years old, she is his guardian. her late husband's younger brother contested this at the time, but the late earl's will specified that his widow was to run the estate and the family affairs until their son came of age, and given anne's friends in high places, he quickly gave up his objections.

[intrepelle]

Lady Estelle, ward [and illegitimate daughter] of Phileas Fogg, the 4th Duke of Windlesham.

The pair live at No. 7 Saville Street in Mayfair, essentially year-round. Occasionally they will both return to Ancaster Castle, his country house in Lincolnshire, but it is rare indeed to see them in the country.

Highly opinionated and highly spirited, prone to resorting to cheekiness and impudence when she's not met with the kindness or basic respect that she, as a person, is deserving of.

Seemingly unbothered by any society gossip that circulates with her as the focus.

A notorious pickpocket, though she'll only loot from people she thinks deserving of it––nobles who disrespect their staff, cruel mothers, cruel fathers, bitchy debutantes.

Her mother [Louise Laroche, from a Huguenot family] worked as a maid at the gentleman's club Brooks's, which her father [Phileas Fogg, the Duke of Windlesham, though he was only the Marquess of Bathurst at the time] is a frequent member of. The two had a dalliance in the second half of 1791, and though it did not last for long, Louise soon realised she had fallen pregnant. Knowing that he was too honourable a man to not take action, but not wanting to trap either of them in a situation that neither wanted, Louise keeps shtum and remains working at Brooks's for as long as she is able to, only to wind up returning to her parents' small farm in Crawley when it is not something she can hide any longer. She gives birth to Estelle, and near immediately after, journeys back to London, accepting a cook position in White's upon her return, the rival club of her former employer. Estelle is thus raised to believe that her grandparents are her parents for the first thirteen years of her life.

Louise fell sick in the spring of 1806, to the point of being released from her position at White's, and with no other employment prospects while she is so ill, she is once again forced to return to the Laroche farm. A precocious child, far too intelligent for a girl her age, Estelle quickly catches on to the worried glances and hushed whispers of her 'parents' upon the return of her 'sister', and that it goes beyond her poor health. The truth eventually [finally] comes out one midsummer's eve, shortly before Estelle's fourteenth birthday, when Louise is resigned to communicating in wheezes and laboured breaths, relying on her own parents to fill in the gaps, though even their knowledge does not extend to the whole story. Louise does not live to see the harvest of 1806.

Estelle is, understandably, left reeling. In the span of a few short weeks, she has learnt that much of what she's known about herself is untrue––her life has been a lie, even if not a very exciting one in her eyes. A precocious child nonetheless, and far too quick for a girl of her age, she resolves to discover all she can of her real father, who has since come to inherit his own father's title, all the while totally unaware that he has a daughter. The best way to do this, she resolves, is to follow in her mother's footsteps and find employment as a housemaid at Brooks's. She can observe her father in his natural habitat, she can keep her ear to the ground for gossip, she can feel a little bit closer to the woman she always thought was her sister––and she can finally see London.

It does not go quite the way she had envisioned, for it turns out her father is no rake.

Over the course of a year and a half, Estelle discovers quite a lot about the mysterious Duke of Windlesham. He is a mild-mannered and reclusive man; a little too particular about the temperature of his shaving water or the precise time of how long his tea is to steep, but they appear to be his worst foibles. He is a notorious gambler, but never to the point of ruin, and he never makes a bet that he is not confident he can win. He does not drink to the point of drunkness, nor does he smoke beyond the occasional pipe for special occasions. While considered an eccentric by some of his peers, and regarded poorly by some ladies of high society for his refusal to marry, he is more or less a gentleman of the highest calibre, albeit a lonely one. Estelle cannot understand why her mother refused to tell him the truth, why she allowed for them both to live such restrictive lives, why she kept Estelle a secret; and though she would like to respect her late mother's wishes, it turns out she is just as stubborn and principled as the Duke that she has been shadowing for the past eighteen months.

A few short weeks before her sixteenth birthday (1808!), Estelle finds herself pacing the corner of Saville Street and Burlington Gardens, just a few feet away from the comfortable [not sumptuous, but comfortable] mansion where the Duke took up residence whilst in London. She sticks out like a sore thumb in Mayfair, and it is obvious: she finds herself shrinking into the shadows, which makes it difficult to keep an eye on No. 7. The pocket watch that she had purloined from an unlucky gambling gentleman months back is still warm in her reticule, and when she last checked it had told her that it was twenty eight minutes past eleven, meaning she has either experienced the longest two minutes of her entire life, or today is the day that the Duke finally breaks his precise habits and decides not to repair to Brooks's at half past eleven.

But! Lo and behold, just as she has begun to despair and think that she wasted a rare day off on a foolish endeavour, a face that is oh-so-familiar [not least of all because of its resemblance to her own] begins to weave into view. Realising that it is a matter of now or never, Estelle propels herself into his path; an unwise decision, she realises mid-action, to interrupt one of his famed routines, but she never has prided herself on being wise. Intelligent, yes; quick-witted, certainly. But wise? ...

She expects it to be a travesty. A disaster. For her to be shunned and rebuffed, to become a laughing stock of London as the crazed maid from the country who had the audacity to harangue a Duke of all people, and assault him with all sorts of falsehoods.

Yet that is not what happens. After the initial distaste towards being waylaid leaves his features, the Duke gets a certain look [watery? wistful? pained?] in his eye at the mention of a French maid who used to work at the club. Though a taciturn man by nature, Estelle has not ever seen him so speechless in the short time she's been observing him, and it does little to assuage her nerves, but she continues on her rambling. When, finally, she runs out of steam, and finds herself looking rather dumbly on at him, he responds in a way that shocks her to her core: he nods. He muses that perhaps today is the day he will finally be noted as absent at Brooks's, and asks if she would care to join him for a humble breakfast at No. 7 Saville Street, so that they might become better acquainted. She assents––nervously, mind you––and the rest, as they say, is history.

[strxngertogether]

@nomdepen || Continued from here

"It means! That I won't have that! Good for you and your fictional romances, but I don't want to hear about it! I will never have that, I will never want it, and anything I do want would never be paraded around in a stupid book that I can't even read! Why are men the end all be all of our happiness? When the fuck did that stupid idea get planted in our heads? Men are disgusting pigs who only care for their own wants. Do you really think any of them would care about you?"

Jay's words are harsh and direct, feet planted solidly on the ground while her hands are not at all shy to emphasize and follow her voice. 'Love' is always a topic that makes Jay angry. She frankly thinks men are incapable of feeling it and women may or may not be as well. The only time Jay has any hope of finding it herself is when her eyes fall on a beautiful woman who she can only hope will look at her the same way. They never do.

She thinks the whole world is broken to revolve around men and their cruel, disgusting habits. But were women any less cruel? Part of her hopes, but she has no real evidence to back it up. Perhaps people were designed to be cruel and this was some unjust punishment they all would have to live with.

[chasingtitans]

mini tag drop!

[darlingpeasant]

Obsessed with this kiss, obsessed with the closeness, obsessed with the eagerness, obsessed with the desire, obsessed with his hand on her waist, obsessed with her on her tippy toes and him craning his neck to reach her, obsessed with his hand protecting her head from the wall, obsessed with the whimsical, ethereal setting, obsessed with the beauty of it all, overall yes very obsessed

[eleanor-bradstreet]

The impossible glow up has already begun 🫠

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

Violet giving her favourite son that’s most like Edmund her ring because their relationship is like their hers and edmunds and because Colin was so very much in love so much so he asked pen on spot without a seconds to marry her! Violet never beating polin biggest SHIPPER allegations! the fact she gave him her ring and he gave her a watch that is the same exact one or looks like the same watch Edmund had personally think Colin had all these years and been using to travel the world using it to be closer to his dad thats on the best Bridgerton son

The fact I know Colin didn’t ask and she gave it to him herself because she’s always wanted to give to him bc she knew about pen feelings for her son all these years!

[lemonhemlock]

tried watching the new queen charlotte series but was immediately put off by the ridiculous anti-corset propaganda, so get ready for another rant.

first of all, this is the georgian era so what she's wearing are called /stays/ - corsets are a victorian invention. why do we still not know this in 2023 when period productions have remained consistently popular throughout the years? the concept of tighlacing (the goal being a reduction of the waist) is also victorian and was not the norm at all and v much an extreme practice. this understanding of history is so superficial, it's as if an alien were to open up People magazine and conclude that all human women resort to butt injections and lip fillers to stay with the fashion of the times. also, no, you cannot tighlace in stays to obtain a waist reduction because they are shaped like a funnel (picture 1 = long stays, 2 = short regency stays, 3 = corset)

charlotte goes on to complain about how dangerous whalebone is and that it might kill her if she makes the wrong move. what the actual fuck? whalebone was actually the very best material to use for this because it was sturdy yet flexible and allowed the /stays/ to completely and comfortably mold around a woman's unique body shape. one of the reasons why today it is v difficult to replicate the same effect in corsetry is because we do not have access to whalebone (killing whales is not cool for obvious reasons) so corset-makers have to resort to other materials like plastic or metal, which CAN break. whereas whalebone doesn't really break as easily. furthermore, stays/corsets were NEVER worn on bare skin, but with a chemise/shift underneath.

why did women in the past resort to this type of undergarment, you ask? well, apart from the fact that women need bust support, the stays also serve the purpose of allowing all the many skirts and petticoats to be placed comfortably onto the waist. you try piling on that much fabric around your bare waist and see how you like it and if you can even carry it all around without it cutting into your stomach.

clothes throughout human history did cater to the popular fashions of the time, yes, but they also reflected the technological limitations and there was thus a practical aspect to it. this is a time before elastic bands, before industrialization and fast fashion, clothes are v difficult to make, everything is done by hand, so a lot of care is put into preserving them, because they are /expensive/ and labour intensive. you don't want your fancy outergarments to get ruined so you wear a lot of undergarments to absorb your bodily fluids since those are easier to make and don't have to look "pretty", can be stained and patchy etc. again, why do you need so many layers in the first place? because this is a time before comfortable heating, with poorly isolated and drafty houses, and it's bloody cold otherwise.

the third reason why that monologue was so dumb is because CHARLOTTE is the reason regency court dress was so preposterous. long story short, in a few decades, the fashionable silhouette changes wildly from the late 1700s to the 1810s.

the regency waistline was much higher and the gowns were much more flowy and unstructured than the late georgian ones (what's commonly known as the empire waistline). the long stays of the late 1700s were now replaced with short stays that really were similar to modern bras. the scene in the first season of bridgerton where they squeeze penelope's sister into what looks like a pair of long stays (?) is bonkers bc no one would wear a waist-constricting boned undergarment under a regency dress. why would they? the natural waist is not even emphasized in any way. this is just another reason to peddle the women-were-oppressed-by-their-lingerie agenda. so if charlotte really hated long stays that much, regency would really have been her time to shine, right? wrong. the woman loved the fashions of her youth so much she forced everyone who came to court to still comply to them, which is why we get the absolutely atrocious regency court dresses - essentially a combination of the georgian style with side panniers, but with an empire waistline.

yeah, this is how daphne SHOULD have looked like when she was presented at court in front of charlotte. i can understand why the showrunners decided to just leave her in a regency silhouette because this is ugly af. but, anyway, queen charlotte is the last person on earth to be complaining about how uncomfortable stays are.

creative licence aside, the reason this pisses me off is because it is SUCH lazy storytelling. the show wants us to know charlotte is a spunky pseudo-feminist character so the easiest way to do that is to have her complain about the evil 'corset' trying to kill her. it is so profoundly ahistorical and does nothing to contribute to the conversation about women's true problems and true limitations during that time. instead of genuinely exploring social history and women's actual lived experiences, we are STILL, in the year of our lord 2023, diverting the discourse towards fabricated issues that never existed in the first place.

the reasons actresses complain about boned underwear in interviews are manifold. costume designers are very overworked, they have to produce clothes for hundreds of people in a very short time, so they simply do not have the time or resources to construct corsets/stays that fit the actresses like they are supposed to. in the past, these garments were made individually for every person and completely to their own requirements. they also make these actresses wear the boning on BARE skin to look extra sexy to the audience or to emphasize their oppression - that never happened, a shift was always worn underneath (hello dakota fanning scene in the alienist??).

moreover, they lace them up until they constrict their ribcages - these women are already super thin and their bodies cannot support more reduction - instead of relying on the historical practices of padding and illusion. nowadays, body parts are what's fashionable - that's why so many resort to fat transfers or breast implants or starving themselves to achieve a flat stomach. in the past, anyone of any size could have accomplished the fashionable silhouette because they had a wide array of accouterments to plop underneath their garments - panniers, bustles, hoop skirts, padding of any sort. it didn't matter how big your waist was, you just padded other areas until you achieved the desired shape. fat women wore corsets/stays, too. working women, who did a lot of physical labour, did the same. how were they able to perform all of their tasks if they were incapable of moving or breathing? even today, people wear medical corsets all the time.

TLDR the media's obsession with portraying modern women as so liberated because they wear bras instead of "patriarchal" underwear is so tedious.

EDIT: Some very basic chronological tadpoles to make this easier to place within historical context. "Georgian" is used to denote the 18th+ century when Great Britain was ruled by several kings named George, so roughly 1714-1830. Within this interval, we refer to the Regency period as encompassing the regency of Prince George, future King George IV, when his father George III was incapacitated by mental illness. The official political regency took place during 1811-1820, but culturally speaking, this was extended to roughly the end of the 18th century up to maybe 1830 or 1837. This is the time period of Napoleonic wars and Jane Austen novels, so all her heroines should normally wear Regency styles. Think "empire waistline" as in Imperial France and Napoleon. The Victorian era (and its corsets) follows throughout the rest of the 19th century. Queen Charlotte was a contemporary of Marie Antoinette's, so they should be dressed in similar fashions (robe à la française vs robe à la anglais).

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

My YT and IG keep recommending me the same person complaining about the bridgerton costumes and I'm like.... then why are you still watching it why are you putting all this time into it!!

They got invited to an official event and wore a bridgerton-style ahistorical gown as.... a gotcha? Maybe? About how BadWrong it was? And like maybe if u leaned in more to the shiny fabrics and swan wigs you'd have more fun!!

[mytimetooutshine]

Okay Bridgerton season 3: Part 1 is out and no EloisexCressida kiss, disappointed but not surprised

[bcbliophile]

@kingcenred Cenred & Penelope.

She knew she would have to eventually see Colin again, but she had hoped she would have more time, perhaps that was why she panicked as soon as she saw him across the room. The minuet he started towards her she took hold of her green skirt and all but ran from the main ballroom and ducked into the closest empty room. Or rather what she thought was an empty room, she turned to lean against the door, catching her breath and when she looked up there was a man there not even a foot in front of her.

"I'm sorry-- I thought this room was empty, I'll just return to the pa. . " She didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence, much less turn around to leave before her mother was in the room, where the hell had she even come from? Penelope recalled her being on the other side of the ballroom when she ran away. But there she was, screeching about how improper it was to be alone in a room with a man and then throwing out the word marriage as a small group of people gathered.

"No mama-- nothing happened, I swear I just entered the room thinking it was empty, I don't even know this man" which was very much true but at this point no one was listening to her at all, a facet in her life. She finally glanced at the man next to her, the guilt for what was happening eating at her, it was one thing to have to marry before the end of the season it was another all together to be forced into a marriage.

[sorayax]

She's THE QUEEN :3

[strxngertogether]

"Is it true that you need to be married to get pregnant?" eloise @ anyone lol

Taylah was stopped in her tracks, completely taken by surprise and having no idea what the answer to the question was. That didn’t sound right, but that hadn’t come up with any of the partners that had taught her about sex.

“I, um, I don’t think so?” She thought since she was the one so fascinated by taking over the male role and producing heirs, she should know something so simple but alas. “Perhaps Violet knows? I could ask.”

[anime-villian-irl]

Dear friends

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

thanks to your donations and participation, we are approaching the halfway point of the goal, with only less than €950 left.

I hope to reach it today with your participation and donations.

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

Y'all if you have recently donated to a Palestinian family there is a chance that you've been refunded because of a glitch. Please please please check y'alls emails.

[loveackermannn]

Forbidden Love between Levi x Reader just pure fluff where like she's a princess and he's her knight to protect her, no context needed just fluff 🤭.

YOUR MIND. I LOVE YOUR MIND.

knight!levi who swore on his life to protect you at all costs – even if it means giving himself up for you. yet, who also swore to never fall in love with you because there's no way that could actually happen.

knight!levi who guards your door every morning and every night, waiting for the sound of your voice to call his name. at times, he couldn't help but want to hear you call out for him just so that he could be closer to you. in his mind, he was convinced it was only out of pure duty to ensure of your safety and that it would be guaranteed by him in your direct presence. though, deep down, it was because he couldn't stand the thought of being apart from you for even a second.

knight!levi who brushes through the messy strands of your hair with your hairbrush and occasionally steals glances at your restless posture through the dusty mirror. his brows furrow, letting his fingers slip through to gently caress at your scalp.

"how long did you stay up for last night? you look like a zombie," his voice is forward and could be seen by anyone else as a bit disrespectful towards his lady, but just to you, you fondly smile at him as if acknowledging his concern.

"a little past midnight, i had some paperwork to take care of, princess duties."

"would it kill you to get a few more hours of sleep than that? i'll do your shitty paperwork for you," he firmly says, noticing your eyes slightly widening at his proposition. of course it's out of his place to say such a thing, he's nothing more than a mere knight in shining armor awaiting for danger to strike at any given moment.

knight!levi who is quick in his apologises afterwards and urges himself to leave as soon as he entered – until he felt your hand surround the flesh of his wrist, hoping that he'll stay. you want him to stay.

"i'll get more sleep, i promise. can you please help me finish getting ready?"

knight!levi who couldn't refuse you even if he so wanted to, because he could feel himself give in to you the more he stays, the more he touches you, the more he is with you. you tempt him so much without even trying. you could talk about all the stars in the universe or the sand that grains the earth, yet all he could think about is how beautiful his own universe is front of him – you.

knight!levi who accompanies you on your daily walks around the palace with nowhere else to run to, because these 4 walls are what you've known your whole life. sometimes, he finds himself dreaming of a small cabin where the two of you can easily roam free to the nearest lake or climb the tallest mountain together. together. he can see it all so well, but the position of knight and princess makes it nearly impossible. perhaps, one day or maybe in another life both of you could be granted that freedom.

knight!levi who eats breakfast, lunch and dinner with you. he makes sure that the food is cooked exactly how you like it, that your cravings and sweet tooth are satisfied because he is the only person to have ever known these small things about you. he'll wipe the crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a napkin or sometimes even with the tip of his thumb, because he knows how messy of an eater you can be.

knight!levi who can't hide his feelings for any more capacity than his heart will allow. knight!levi who loves you to the ends of the earth, that he would gather up all your desires and needs and fulfill them in any way that he could. knight!levi who cares deeply for your heart, soul and mind that he can hardly contain it anymore. knight!levi who is yours forever and has always been yours.

knight!levi who stands at your door, shifting uncomfortably between his right and left leg, thinking about stupid he must look right now to the guards who walked past him. his hand meets the wood of the door, knocking once, twice, then thrice. he's holding his breath and for some time, he wasn't breathing.

knight!levi who waited patiently for your footsteps to be audible to his ears and soon heard the creaks of the door pry slowly open. your eyes appeared to have been deprived of sleep, but you greeted him with the same enthusiasm as you always have, as if the life in your eyes were brought back to life.

knight!levi who can't seem to get the words that itched desparately at his throat and instead, ushers you inside of your room and closing the door behind him. he looks less composed than usual and you began to grow worried at his frantic expression as you sat on your bed. your immediate thought was that someone had broken into the castle or was plotting a rivalry against your kingdom, but as soon as levi got to his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his and bowing his head – almost in.. shame? you knew it had to be about something completely different.

knight!levi who was quiet in words, but coherent enough to reach you,

"i can no longer hold this in, milady. if my words are nothing but indecent to you, i would ask to resign from my position as your knight, but you must know this now, that-"

knight!levi who finally gathers the courage to look up at you with such earnest, you couldn't turn away. he finishes with the remainder of his shakened breath,

"i am in love with you. i can hardly fucking stand near you without having the urge to pull you in because i crave for your heart so badly. i lay awake most nights dreaming of what it would feel like to be beside you. i cannot concentrate because you constantly plague my mind as if you own it."

the unwelcomed silence filled every corner of your candlelit room and the tensed breathing between the two of you was all that could be heard.

as speechless as you were left, the rest of your body spoke for you. your palms met the tops of his hands, tenderly circling your thumb around his calloused skin. your lips were parted and he continued to look up at you as if you were the last thing his eyes could devour. you leaned down and slowly closed the distance between your curious faces. one of your hands reached out for his nape, grounding yourself before placing a clumsy kiss on his lips.

knight!levi who didn't pull away nor did he move from where he knelt. his eyes were slightly opened to a half-lid and his hands were still cupped by yours. he was no expert in initiating physical touch whatsoever, but he wanted to try just for you.

knight!levi who moves his hands from your lap to the sides of your face, arising from the floor but never breaking the kiss. he situates himself beside you, keeping one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip. it was passion, it was love. everything that couldn't be said in words was perfectly conveyed in an array of kisses and the molding of your body to his.

knight!levi who didn't want this to ever end, who wanted to be stuck here in a bubble of warmth with you forever. for as long as this night will allow for it, he will savor every part of you. he would worship you as if you were his temple and he wouldn't want to stop even when the morning rises.

☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvjiro , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝💌)

[merthurians-prat-and-idiot]

Also,,, the way Jonathan Bailey makes Anthony's voice start to wobble & break when he gets emotional !! Pls 😭