#and so I've been watching the new Bridgerton finally

[itsanidiom]

(^ u ^;) 

[kasagia]

Can you give us a little sneak peak for the next part

My twodear anonymous and @hanadays1234, thank you so much! 😊🖤🩵

Yes, I can. And since I wrote all my exams, I only focus on writing. 🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵

Nope 🤭🙈 🩵🖤🖤🩵

24.05 Friday or 27.05 Monday. (I have nothing written except what I will give you right now)

Also, who binge watched Bridgerton season 3 and now get inspiration for the new series (for Feyd, I showed you once) instead on focus on the Right Hand? 🤡🙈

Anyway... sneak peak:

Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.

But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.

He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."

He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.

"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.

Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.

The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.

You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.

He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.

"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.

He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.

If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.

He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.

"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes."

(...)

[stayconnecteed]

hi bby <3 i just saw your post and im here to request something 👉👈

i wondering if you could work something with jisung and love at first sight? idk i've been watching too many romcoms lately. it's totally okay if you don't want to write it though, love you <33

🪐˓⠀˚⠀summertime longing⠀@⠀han jisung.

bridgerton au , jisung is head over heels for you ㅤ—⠀⠀at first sight. mention of little wounds ( scratches, really ) & soonie is a paid actor hehe 🫶🏼 this is not a part of my dear gentleman oneshots & it's not proofread. i hate to write on my phone but i don't have my laptop. hope you like it, mana 🤍

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀2.4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

The carriage stopped, and Jisung didn't wait for the door to open before jumping out. He was late, and although it wasn't unusual, his old friend Minho would kill him if he didn't show up on time. He didn't bother to look at his pocket watch as he walked the cobblestone path of the Lee manor's entrance, flashing an apologetic smile at the housekeeper who had watched him grow up as she opened the door for him before his fingers caressed the metal knocker. The hall was empty, the only source of noise the bustle coming from the kitchen, and Jisung knew that the guests had already been moved to the garden. Minho was going to notice his absence. Shit.

He hurried through the hallways, the rustle of the fabric of his pants ringing in his ears with each step as the only soundtrack to his march, until he reached the large glass windows of the blue room. He stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath to calm the erratic beating of his heart, flattening the lapels of his suit jacket against his chest. He wanted to think that the shaking in his hands was a creation of his creative mind, but in reality it was just a side effect of his lack of social skills. Jisung closed his eyes. He didn't know why he kept arriving late to places when it made him so uncomfortable to have to enter a room full of people totally alone.

Then he realised that on that occasion the people were in the garden, and he was the one who remained in the room, and he chuckled, shaking his head. What an idiot. He would be fine. Plus, he knew the Lees — it wasn't going to be that bad.

The first to see him as soon as he stepped out onto the terrace was Lady Lee, the Earl of Gimpo, and she quickly gestured for him to come towards her, ignoring the panicked face of the man who should have announced him when he arrived. He did not have to force the smile that curved his lips in reflection of the one that the woman in front of him had, and he responded to her effusive greeting and affectionate comments with easy laughter and lots of promises of meetings with his own mother as soon as possible.

Minho and his family had been travelling all spring, and now that the first rays of sun heralded summer in its most comforting form, they had finally returned, to enjoy the few months of heat before the new season began. And Jisung couldn't wait to hug his best friend again, even if it meant putting up with all the jokes about the experience he had gained in Europe and how little he had been missed. It was part of who Minho was, all the teasing and the sharp smirks, and the least he could do was get to his welcome back event on time, which… Well, he hadn't been able to do it.

Lady Lee's attention slid from her son's friend to the man she had been chatting with before, and Jisung offered a respectful bow, trying to finally find Minho in the crowd. Until he found his broad shoulders moving in silent laughter at his companion's words. And he saw you, the companion, giggling too, covering your mouth with an expert twist of your fan, your cheeks flushed, in front of Minho. Then you looked at him, and for a minute he forgot everything about how to breathe. 

Because looking into your eyes was like listening to a melody. He could hear the quartet that Minho's mother had chosen for the event playing from the little wooden platform by the lake, but it was a completely different tune than that. Your gaze, cheerful and serene, sang of mischievous breezes swaying the treetops at will, of dances without music barefoot on the grass and of the warm rays of the sun kissing your skin. You brought the summer with you, that summer that filled him with life and hope, and as he lost himself in your bright pupils, standing among the crowd, he wondered how his heart had been able to beat until that moment when it didn't had you to beat for.

“Hey, Ji!” Minho called his name, approaching him in a couple of steps, and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Minho was dry in words, but his actions showed clearly enough how he truly felt about his friends.

Jisung's body reacted with the force of habit, letting himself be embraced and tightening his grip on Minho, as if he was afraid that he would get back on that ship with the desire to travel the world. He couldn't allow it, at least for a long time. Or unless they went together. And after one last squeeze he let him step away, Jisung's hand firm on Minho's back, as the Lees' only son turned to you.

“This is Lord Han, as I told you,” he explained, and you bowed before him, lowering your head with a lingering smile curving your lips. Jisung wanted to kiss that smile into his mouth, but he cleared his throat instead, trying to fill his mind with other — more appropriate — thoughts.

“Milady here wanted to visit our city,” he continued, offering his hand to you, waiting for you to rest it over his, and squeeze it with a familiarity that made Jisung’s heart sting, “so I proposed to her to travel back with us and stay for a while. She was the girl I told you about in my last letter.”

The last letter that had arrived that morning, and that he hadn't read because he was arriving late.

“Then you were absolutely right, my brother,” Jisung uttered, his words withering in his tongue as he linked the word ‘propose’ between you and Minho, “you were going to try to find beautiful views out there in the world. You truly discovered the most breathtaking one.”

Minho gave Jisung a playful punch on the shoulder, his chest filling with pride, ready to affirm any compliment his friend could mutter about you, but he stopped when he saw you addressing Jisung, your voice soft and honeyed, still hidden behind your fan. 

“My lord really praised your composer skills during our trip here,” you whispered, averting your magnetic gaze from his as if you were having trouble bearing the knowledge that Jisung was observing you, completely stunned, but also desperate to have a conversation with you. “He forgot to add how much of a gentleman you were.”

Jisung accepted your words with a light blush covering his cheeks, and he raised his hand almost instantly, narrowing his eyes and waiting, until you released your hold on Minho's hand and let yours rest on Jisung's. His breath got caught in his throat as he felt the soft fabric of your gloves on his fingers, and he wanted to imagine that the way you held your own breath was also due to the touch his lips left on the back of your hand — the greeting of any gentleman. 

And just before either of you could say a single word, you heard Lady Lee scream by the terrace, absolutely stressed, and a spark of orange fur running across the grass like a shooting star in the darkest night. Minho gasped, and Jisung knew. His cats.

You were the one who took the initiative, smashing your fan into Minho's chest and grabbing the hem of your dress in one swift move, following the mischievous creature at a fast pace, ignoring the calls of the rest of the men at the event. Jisung stared at you, starstruck, before running after you. It wasn't the first time he had dealt with Minho's cats, they knew him, for them you were a stranger. It would be his fault if the animal started to get stressed and ended up hurting you. 

The hurried race took him to the forest adjacent to the Lee property, and by the time Jisung spotted you among the foliage, he froze. Your bun had come loose, your hair loose falling over your back, and you had your dress pulled too far up your thighs, fully prepared to climb the tree where Soonie was waiting, curious about what you were doing.

Jisung couldn't think. He didn't know if you had heard him arrive, but he didn't care. He could only focus on the smooth skin he was witnessing — more than he had ever seen in his life — contrasting with the colour of your dress. You didn’t seem uncomfortable being barefoot, your low heels abandoned among the thick roots of the weeping willow, one foot resting on a gap between the folds of the robust trunk and your hands holding tightly to the lowest branches. 

It would be difficult to reach Soonie, because its branch, although low, was too thin for a human, even dangerous with the way it was located above the lake. Jisung could understand why the cat had chosen that tree. He also liked the way its leaves swayed in the wind, and it really did look like a giant feline toy, but they already had scratching toys and little houses in the manor, all handmade by Minho. The adventure had to end before something went wrong.

But before he could warn you of his presence, a leaf creaked under his boots, alerting you, scaring you, and making you lose focus on your tightrope walk along the branch below Soonie's. You lost your balance completely, and Jisung saw your hands trying to grab onto something, anything, before falling into a loud splash on the edge of the lake. Jisung would have laughed if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously wounded. 

He rushed over to where you were, mumbling a string of “I'm sorry’s” as you emerged from the water, taking a breath of oxygen, holding onto the hand Jisung was offering you. Your hair formed spirals in the water, floating around you, just like your dress. Jisung felt so overstimulated that he wasn't able to process how he had just gotten his pants wet, the level of the water reaching over his waist. All he could think about was that your gloves had torn, and that he was touching your skin, the soft but bloody skin of your outstretched hands, and that you were so close that he could feel your rapid breathing on his arm. 

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were popping into his head, and pulled you lightly so you could stand up. Only instead of getting angry with him, blaming him for spying on you, your lips curved into a smile, and you let out a crystalline laugh, closing your eyes and relaxing your shoulders before him. You were the picture of happiness, cheeks still rosy and your chest rising and falling against the corset at full speed. Even he felt on edge, with adrenaline bubbling everywhere. 

“There’s no need to be sorry, lord Han” you whispered under your breath, your eyes falling over him, Soonie purring above your heads. “It was a funny accident. I shouldn't have tried to climb so high.”

You weren't apologizing for running away but for not thinking about the density of the branch, Jisung noticed, and he couldn't help but widen his smile at it. He was getting lost in your gaze again, too captured by you, and everything was going too fast. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he didn't want it to stop. Until he realised that you were getting goosebumps, and the first shiver ran through you. He cursed himself for not having acted sooner, and helped you out of the lake with difficulty, the ground on the shore completely muddy. You were cold.

Jisung avoided looking at you as he turned slightly to take off his expensive suit jacket, ready to give it to you, but when he turned to offer it, he saw that you were removing your dress. He was quick to put his jacket on you before you could continue, shame creeping up his neck and leaving a trail of blush in its wake, and you flashed a mischievous smile, fully aware.

“I’m not going to end up naked, lord Han” you assured him, grabbing the thick fabric of your dress and leaving it on the grass, the figure of your body crafted by the thin white nightgown you wore underneath, before snuggling into Jisung's warm black blazer, “you should court me first.”

Your words snapped Jisung out of the haze he was in, suppressing the urge he had to run his hands along your arms to help you warm up, and he picked up your dress and shoes from the floor, keeping his hands well occupied. He was a gentleman, he shouldn't… He had to involve you both in situations appropriate for a young lady like you. Not in an improvised swim, where you were going to end up so... God, so delicate and delicious, looking at him that way. 

He couldn’t. Not when everyone knew where you were, when Soonie was judging you two among the roots of the trees, approaching Jisung with the confidence of having found a familiar human. Before he could get any closer, you crouched down, holding out your fingers so he could smell them. It took a suspicious look and realising that Minho's cologne was still soaked in you to accept being held in your arms, sticking to your body to provide you with more warmth. 

Jisung had to remember to buy Soonie more treats the next time he visited Minho. 

“Are you coming?” you asked, oblivious to the way the vision you were was killing Jisung inside, you in his clothes, with that cheeky smile, your hair a wet mess but still looking so beautiful.

Still, he nodded, treasuring every second in his memory. One look, and you had cast a spell on him. He would follow you wherever you asked as long as you were the one to guide him. He knew he was in love, because you held his heart in your hand as easily as you had taken Minho's cat, and if you broke it it would hurt more than a bad cut with a rusty knife. He had fallen catastrophically, and was now at your total mercy. The worst part, however, was that he didn't care at all.

© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[nothots-headempty]

Her Bangles

Anthony × Kate

Summary: Anthony doesnt mind people, especially when they are congratulating him on his wonderful wedding. But right now, he could use a moment alone with his lovely wife. Actually, he always needs a moment alone with her.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: fluffy fluffy fluff

Authors Note: ok not being shown the Kanthony wedding still makes me cry honestly. But ukw that doesnt stop me from writing scenarios. So hahahahahaha here you go

Also this is so not proof read. Deal with me please.

The room swam before his eyes, his feet moving a little too slowly just to make sure he didnt tip over, fall on his face, make a joke of himself on the best day of his life.

It wasn't the alcohol - he had hardly taken a sip off Benedict's glass, one that had been forced down his throat in the name of merriment, to be sure.

It wasn't that he was unwell either. Nor was he tired. It was just something about the crowds, the noise, the hand shaking and congratulations that had lost its familiarity quite swiftly. It's like he had been the centre of attention, the all-knowing, all-seeing source of gossip and now here he was just wishing for a quiet, alone, peaceful moment with the woman of his dreams.

Woman of his dreams. He liked the sound of that. Quite sly of him to just admit to himself the many sleepless nights his wonderful viscountess had once given him. This new honesty, it seemed to become him.

He felt a weight, a jingling in his pocket and smiled at the thoughts. Her bangles. The pretty, delicate, green adornments that remained imprinted on his mind as if part of her themselves.

Had she forgotten them? Had they been tainted by the hurt of that stupid, stupid day when he chose to break the heart of her sister, his betrothed? Were they touched by the kiss she gave him that evening?

He had no way of knowing. But the prospect of being visited once again by that beautiful and almost surreal smile when she saw the bangles, the smile that his wife bestowed only upon him, well that thought even made him bounce on his heels. In impatience. In excitement.

There was but a slight delay between the moment his gaze landed on Kate as he scanned the room and his feet took him to her before even his mind could process everything he saw.

The waiter handing out refreshments was easily dodged, Colin with a beauty on one hand and champagne in the other was ignored and forgotten as Anthony ducked under his arm to get to his wife.

His wife. His wife. His fucking wife.

How many times had he said these words to himself in the past hour or two? He had lost count.

"What are you smiling about?" He was used to being greeted with questions now. Questions, taunts, teasing retorts. All of it.

But presently all he wanted to do was kiss the woman in front of him. And that he did. His arm wrapped around her waist, he leaned in as Kate met his lips with a small laugh. He let himself settle into the feel of her, her scent rushing through his senses, the feel of her skin rendering all coherence impossible.

His tongue brushed along hers with a desire he had waited hours to unleash before she pulled away with an embarrassed smile and turned him towards his mother who looked at him with the kind of satisfaction that always set him at ease.

"I've finally done something right, havent I, Mother?", he chuckled. Violet Bridgerton, however, always with some rebuke for her eldest on her lips, held herself back this time. She had watched him be weary, tired, annoyed, helpless, broken? But this new glow he had on his face. The bubble of Marital Bliss that entrapped him now. She knew she wouldn't be the one to even pin prick through it.

So all she did was reach her hand out to caress the cheek of her daughter-in-law, a silent thank you for saving her son. "This is by far the best thing you have done, Anthony."

The smile on Kate's cheeks almost ushered a tear to her eyes but before she could thank her new mother for taking her in, Violet had turned and left the scene, leaving the newly weds with their moment of privacy.

Wiping the wetness on her skin, Anthony pulled her in for another peck, a short lived one this time, his hands settling something heavy in her palms as their mouths detached.

He was almost bouncing like a spring toy right where he stood and his energy was contagious. She pulled apart the draw strings on the bag, her teeth instinctively gnawing at her lip when she saw the green accessories before her.

A flurry of images - Amma bestowing the bangles to her, her fingers holding onto then a little as she responsibly handed them over to Edwina, Anthony's fingers and hers - they rushed through her brain like a tornado and left her stumped.

She looked up at her husband, the light of her life, who was now pulling the ornaments from her hands and slowly slipping them onto her wrists.

"I love you.", she whispered to him. And then looked away, back to where their hands were holding each other, just as they had on that fated day not too long ago. She let her fingers entwine with his, his chin resting on her shoulder, a low sigh of relief escaping both their lips as they let the reality set in.

"I love you, too.", he answered. More fact than instinct. Like he'd said it from somewhere deep within himself. She squeezed her eyes shut. Allowing herself to detach from the moment. From the people and the chatter and the fact that she was part of a new family and a new place and a new person.

She belonged to Anthony today. And he belonged to her. And his heart as it beat somewhere right next to her, told her that it would be that way till the very of end of themselves.

For better or for worse, in peace and to the very end of every argument, from the flowers at her desk to the jewels on her wrist. This was it. Her peace. Her life. Her husband.

And finally, she was ready to allow it to happen to herself. Something she had kept at bay for years.

Happiness.

[markantonys]

a few more bridgerton thoughts! i've always been only a casual enjoyer who watches just for a few hours of fun and doesn't get super invested, but even so, i'm still feeling pretty underwhelmed by this season so far. i watched it in one sitting and enjoyed it while it was happening but just immediately forgot about it as soon as i was done. maybe all the memorable moments are going to be in the second half of the season, but for these first four episodes, i feel like it was all just kinda bland and forgettable (granted, of all the romance tropes in the world, m/f childhood-friends-to-lovers is just about the #1 most boring one to me, so this never would've been my favorite season regardless)

i adore romance and romcoms, always have, and am pretty happy to watch The Classic Marriage Plot play out a thousand times, yet i feel like bridgerton is maybe becoming TOO formulaic and repetitive. although, to be fair, i WAS giggling and kicking my feet during all the Classic Romance Scenes, but the problem was maybe just that there weren't enough of them, which brings me to my second point of too many subplots. too much padding and filler and not enough Classic Romance, which is what i'm here for.

8 hours is way more time than is needed to tell 1 love story, so to fill up the time they invent 17 random subplots that are ultimately pointless and have little relevance outside of the current season. i would way rather a season be only 4 episodes but tightly focused on the main love story, or that a season be about two siblings and two main love stories at a time, than have all this extra time they need to fill up with random unimportant shit. why have we had 3 seasons' worth of storylines about benedict having one-off non-endgame girlfriends that don't have a lasting impact on his character development? what's the point? he's been treading water for so long that i'm not even going to care about him anymore by the time he finally comes into the spotlight, and same with eloise. god, the thought of eloise's season potentially not being until like 2027 is insane. it's past time to start picking up the pace and doing 2 siblings per season!

and the kicker is that all these subplots, which were only invented to fill up the time, end up filling too MUCH time and taking away from the main love story, which is left feeling underbaked. this sort of happened last season, but it's way worse this season. penelope is an excellent character, but her back is breaking from trying to carry the season because colin is kinda giving us nothing due to lack of narrative attention given to him as an individual. he's supposed to be the co-lead, yet i couldn't tell you a single personality trait of his besides "vaguely nice" because he's just had no development and exists more as a prop for penelope to love than as a fleshed-out character in his own right. there was that whole scene where violet was talking about how he's a people pleaser who focuses on making others happy at the expense of his own wants and happiness, and i was just sitting there going "he is?" because i didn't feel i'd ever gotten to know him enough as a person to see this trait in him.

i also think the "dropping a season in 2 halves" model is just about the worst possible release model. if you drop 1 episode a week, that's constant engagement and allows for longer time to digest and appreciate each individual episode. if you drop the whole season at once, it's all over too fast but on the flipside you can experience the entire story at once without risking forgetting things or losing interest while waiting for new episodes. but dropping in two halves a month apart is the worst of both models (over too quickly yet also makes you wait too long to finish the story).

i do like some of the subplots, though. cressida getting to be more than just a mean girl caricature has been a particular highlight, the mondrich family going suddenly from working class to noble is interesting to see, and as a mega-introvert myself (and a music lover!) whose ideal partner would be someone who's happy to sit in silence with me, francesca and john's whole vibe is THE definition of romance to me and has me absolutely swooning (and it's a nice change of pace from all the loud dramatic romances on this show). violet potentially finding new love is also very sweet and i'm rooting hard for her! meanwhile i am not a fan of the featherington subplot; after s1 portraying regency girls' lack of sex education as a serious issue, it feels.........odd for the show to now be playing that very same thing for laughs this season and it just kinda makes me uncomfortable.

but otherwise there isn't much i dislike about the season, it's just kinda "meh" to me so far. the second half might turn things around if it's more memorable!

[theshipsfirstmate]

Bridgerton Fic (Francesca/John): Sometimes I Feel So Insecure

(Francesca/John, T, wc: 3,802 -- AO3)

modern/college AU. Francesca and John are grad students, who meet in a practice room and find their own kind of harmony.

The very first time she meets him, it feels both wholly mundane and utterly life-changing.

Mundane because Francesca's sequestered herself inside a piano practice room on the ground floor of the music building — the type of space she's become intimately familiar with throughout four years of undergrad and nearly a year so far of her graduate program.

Life-changing in part because she just about loses her own, jumping out of her skin as the door bangs open, interrupting her fourth go-round on the Schubert she's been considering for her master's recital.

"I'm sorry…" The first thing she notices is his accent. There are more than a handful of international students among the post-grad set at Ithaca College, but still, she's used to being surrounded by the Boston and New York/New Jersey affectations that make up much of the student body. But he sounds like home, or something close to it, anyway.

The second thing she notices is his eyes. He has a handsome face, certainly — a strong jaw and brow, a mouth that curves up at the corners, like smiling comes easy — but it's something in the eyes that nearly makes her breath catch. They look kind, warm, and maybe … maybe something more.

The third thing she notices, too late, is that she hasn't yet spoken. After another second or so of unbroken eye contact, he seems to finally notice too.

"Sorry, I- I know I'm a few minutes late..." He checks his watch, "But I believe I had this room reserved."

He's wrong, Francesca is sure of it. But for whatever reason — whatever mutation she's had since birth that takes the notorious Bridgerton affability and twists it into awkward silence and social anxiety — she doesn't bother to correct him. She just stands quickly and grabs at her sheet music, hoping to leave before the fire rising in her cheeks burns her alive.

"I'm sorry," she says, trying desperately to force some courage into her voice. "I thought… I - I'll leave you to it."

He seems to become a bit frantic when he notices her discomfort, turning back towards the door. "Uh, I-I'm happy to go check with the scheduler. It's possible I've got my rooms mixed up."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry," she adds again, even more unnecessarily this time. "Enjoy the, um, enjoy the room...."

_____________

She's fretting over the Vallée d'Obermann when she sees him next, and that certainly doesn't help her mood.

At least this time he knocks softly before he enters, with a smile inexplicably directed at her. At least this time she has a slightly longer moment to prepare herself for his handsome face.

Unfortunately, it doesn't help that much.

"I triple checked!" she insists, louder than she intends, before he can even get a word out. 

"No, no, no," he replies quickly, and for whatever reason, he's still grinning. "Don't worry. I checked the schedule this time, too."

"So you know I have this room," she protests, weaker now. "You're not here to throw me out again?"

"No! Yes. I…" He sighs. "I'm going about this all wrong."

She waits. His frustratingly handsome face is suddenly so earnest that she has to clasp her hands together tightly and fidget her fingers into knots in order to distract herself.

"I just came to apologize," he says, " Francesca ."

Oh .

It would seem there’s still a type of music left in this world that she hasn't heard before.

She stammers for a moment, working through a thought process that's suddenly gone terribly hazy. "You… you checked the schedule."

"It’s a beautiful name," he confirms, with a half-smile, and… my goodness . "I had a great aunt Francesca. I think they called her 'Fancy,' for short."

Her nose wrinkles at the moniker, but when she follows it by nervously smoothing her hands over the pleats in her perfectly-ironed skirt, she watches his mouth twist wryly.

She clears her throat, hoping to find a modicum of composure somewhere in her voice box. "And you are?"

"Nothing so fancy ," he teases. “John. John Stirling.”

She reaches out to shake his hand before considering the implications. Large, warm, secure but not controlling. She holds it maybe too long, but he just smiles again and her breathing goes all wispy…again.

"You were on to the Lizst this time," he observes as they finally let go. “I like the Schubert better. More heart, I think.”

"I don’t think I fully understand it," she admits on a mumble, shaking her head as if to clear it. "The Vallée, I mean.”

He tilts his head in curiosity, and so she continues. "I'm thinking of changing it out for a Beethoven. But at this rate, I won’t have a masters recital to speak of…"

At this, he takes a step back, and lets out a scoff. It's the first time he's ever seemed less than entirely friendly.

"Well, you’re better off than me," he mumbles, running a hand over his face. "Can't get a masters in composition with writer's block."

"Wouldn’t that be composer's block?"

He gives her a bit more of a laugh than it deserves, and that's the moment she really notices how he looks sort of sad today. There’s something else underneath that pall, too, a level of anxiety that she hadn't had time to examine when she last saw him.

He's stepped far enough away that she can see how the stress makes him rigid. Even his smiles look somewhat fragile, though she has to admit they've still succeeded in warming her.

She wants to help, she realizes. She barely knows the man, but she wants to make him feel better, to ease some of his tension.

(Really, what she wants to do is hold his hand again, but she's fairly certain that won't help matters at all.)

"Since you’re here," she offers slowly. "Can I… Could I play you something?"

His eyes snap up from where they'd been fixed at his feet, and the gaze is too reverent to take in for too long.

So she just keeps talking. "Only if you want, I mean. Of course."

He grins again at her rambling and it looks better, more assured, more real . Suddenly, she needs to know.

“What's your favorite?"

"You'll think me simple."

She just offers a half-smile, lips pursed, until he concedes.

"'Clair de Lune.'"

Tears burn suddenly at the base of her throat. Mercifully, they're happy ones, so she tries to make herself smile wider, to put him at ease.

"You won’t judge me for it?"

"Not at all," she confesses. Even if she were the sort of snob who would, "It’s my eldest brother's favorite, as well."

John simply raises his eyebrows. He's making a habit of that, it seems, giving her space in conversation that others so rarely offer.

"He used to say that everything I played was his favorite," she recalls with a roll of her eyes. "He’s a good sort of brother like that."

"But I made him pick, before his wedding," she continues, still a little misty at the memory, "so I could give him his gift."

"Eldest, you said?"

"I have four brothers — three older, one younger," she explains, thinking of them fondly — the elder trio she grew up in awe of, and then little baby Greggy.

"Goodness — five of you," John remarks.

"Eight, actually," she clarifies. "Four of each."

And Francesca, as a general rule, doesn’t like attention — but it is always a bit enjoyable to watch people take that in.

" Eight ??"

_____________

They hadn't wanted her to go so far away for her studies.

They hadn’t wanted her to go to Ithaca, to leave England at all after she’d conceded to doing her undergrad in London.

"You've already started to establish yourself."

"It's the middle of nowhere!"

"Two years at least without a proper Sunday roast??"

"It's so far, Francesca," her mother had finally lamented, with tears in her eyes. "What if you need us?"

It was a confusing combination of words but one Francesca knew not to question after all this time. Not aloud, anyway.

She loves her family, to be sure. But she's lived more than 20 years as the quietest Bridgerton, and she likes to think she's become quite self-sufficient in all that time.

Of course, she understands that she needs her family in that abstract way that anyone does — the way they’ve made her who she is, the way that they've never asked her to be anyone else.

But the way her mother spoke of it, she wasn't quite sure at the time that it was something she understood. 

Not yet, anyway.

_____________

"It’s just my mum and I," Michael offers, once he's finished sputtering over the size of her family. "She moved to New York with me. Not- not with me , with me, I should say."

She likes him best like this, Francesca thinks. A little flustered, a little like he might know what it feels like to move through life with a colony of butterflies who have made their happy home in the space just behind your rib cage.

"She has an apartment in the city," he explains. "I take the train down to see her every few weeks or so." 

"That's nice," she finally concedes, genuinely. "It's nice that she's close."

He nods. "Some have also said that my cousin Michael and I are as close as brothers, but having no frame of reference…"

He pauses and smiles carefully, as if she'll take offense to the comparison. She doesn't.

"I think closeness can be largely subjective."

His smile quickly turns itself the other way around. "You don’t get along with your siblings?”

"It’s not that," she promises, fast and guilty. "I’m just… different… from all of them. It’s always been that way. It’s a happy house, but it’s so…"

" Loud ," he muses, somehow understanding in an instant. "And you prefer the quiet."

Yes. That’s it exactly.

There might be so much more he’d understand. But each time he hesitates with her, Francesca is reminded that, in order to be accepted, you have to make an offer.

And so she turns away and plays him his piece, holds back her tears when she thinks of her eldest brother — happier than she’s ever seen him —  and watches as an invisible weight seems to lift off of John’s shoulders.

When she's done, he offers her a new smile, one that fills their special silence better than any applause or acclaim ever could.

_____________

It takes her about a week after that — maybe a little more.

This time, Francesca seeks him out in what she’s suddenly come to think of as their room. It’s an odd hour for practice, and she breathes a quick sigh of relief when she realizes she was right. He's here.

In fact, he's standing in a corner of the room with a violin, playing her very favorite Rachmaninoff with his eyes closed tight.

She can tell by the case that the instrument is a rental, but she thinks that no one would ever know by how he holds it, by how beautiful he looks when he makes the strings tremble across the soaring melody.

In an instant, Francesca braces herself for the boldest move she’s ever made. She thinks of her siblings, of how much they’ve risked for what they call love, and she opens the door as quietly as she can.

She holds the handle until it shuts and creeps across the floor, to the shabby standup piano in the other corner of the room. When he hits a measure she’s known by heart since she was 11 years old, she joins him.

John falters for only a fraction of a second —  the untrained ear wouldn’t be able to hear it. 

But then his eyes flash open and he turns to her, smiling so wide, but never missing even an eighth note.

They finish the movement and she stands, suddenly so unsure of herself once again.

“That’s one of my favorites as well,” she admits. “Though once, when I played it at home, my brother Benedict identified it as ‘that Celine Dion song.’”

At this, he laughs, actually laughs, and she finds herself determined to hear that particular sound again, in every key.

“He is perhaps the next most artistic of the bunch,” she concedes. “But the visual arts are definitely more his forte. Music, not so much…”

“ Francesca ,” John says simply, still smiling at her, and she wonders what kind of theory he’s studied that he can still make her name sound like that .

She takes the few steps to reach him, and, in perfect step, he gently sets the violin down just in time to catch her as she wraps herself in his arms, pressing up to her tiptoes to capture his lips, reveling in the knowledge that even the noises from the backs of their throats sound in harmony.

_____________

After that, they simply… find their way together. Measure for measure.

He waits for her after rehearsals, a takeaway cup of tea in both hands. She finds him wrestling one instrument or another in their favorite practice room and persuades him to take enough time away from the crumpled composition sheets to eat some dinner. He drives her home, coasting down South Hill to her apartment on the Commons, walking her to her door and bidding her goodnight with kisses that range from chaste to positively fervent.

The first time he spends the night, it's the opposite of sordid. They're both exhausted after a 16-hour day of rehearsals, lectures, lessons, grad assistant work and whatever else, and by the time they get to her door, John looks absolutely ready to wilt.

"Just, come inside," Francesca insists, nerves overridden by the sheer need she feels to not let him get back behind the wheel.

When they finally wake, in the late morning of the next day, however, she's immediately aware of their state of dress. Or rather, lack thereof. 

John had stripped to an undershirt and boxer-briefs before they crawled beneath the covers — at her insistence, somehow. She’d composed herself only a little more in order to change into a silky pajama set that she’s never thought of as sensual until this exact moment.

Tangled up as they've become through the night, it’s like she can feel him everywhere — and, strangely enough, it doesn’t make her skin crawl.

His arms are wrapped around her waist. She has one hand on the side of his neck and one pressed against his chest, and so she can feel the thrum of his body when he truly wakes. And she decides to be bold once again.

“Good morning,” she whispers, sleep-soaked and just a little raspy.

"Good morning, Fancy," he answers, kissing her nose as it wrinkles in distaste — like he’d planned it.

The heat she’s felt, watching his hands glide over a keyboard, it's nothing compared to the way it feels to have them against her skin. Calloused fingers caress up and down her rib cage as they press infinitely closer for the kind of kiss they’ve never shared before.

This is the magic, she thinks. This is what her siblings have unabashedly waxed poetic about, ever since Daphne went and fell for Anthony's best mate.

She likes it, she loves it, Francesca realizes with a start. In fact, if she thinks hard enough about it — or maybe not at all — she might find herself needing it.

_____________

By the time she's ready to fully spiral out on a cyclone of confusing emotions, she finds a grounding presence amid the members of her family. It's funny how that always seems to happen.

Anthony's flown to the city for work, and he's brought Kate, who's eager to travel as much as possible before her third trimester puts her on lockdown. In typical big brother fashion, he bullies "his Frannie" — as kindly as possible, of course — to take the train down and join them for dinner. 

She’s quiet throughout the meal, but her usually doting eldest brother — hassled over his day of meetings and harried over worrying about his pregnant wife — doesn't fully seem to notice. She's always been quiet, after all.

But Kate's eye on her sharpens throughout their dinner, until finally, she tells Anthony to go order his last drink at the bar, brushing off his questioning eyes in a way that’s never once worked on her brother before.

Her sister-in-law waits until her husband is out of earshot to finally ask.

"So, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" Francesca can hear it, the manic tone that raises Kate's eyebrow instantly, and knows she's caught.

So, she simply sighs and answers honestly. "It's complicated.”

"With you, it always is, Frannie," Kate responds, all concern and no annoyance. "But this seems like something you need to get off your chest sooner rather than later."

Francesca fumbles for the words, her head making each explanation sound less meaningful than her heart needs them to be.

"I met someone," she admits simply, hoping that her astute sister-in-law can read the rest of the swirling turmoil in her eyes.  

“He — he offered to come with me tonight, if I wanted. His mother lives in Manhattan,” she offers in reprise.

Kate takes what feels like an eternity to mull that over.

"Do you miss him?" she asks finally. "Tonight, coming to the city alone — did it leave you… wanting him?"

Francesca nods, even before she knows she wants to, and Kate matches it with a watery expression.

"Sorry to say, but…"

"But it's not the right time!” she blurts out, having failed once more to keep her true feelings in the bottle where they belong. “It’s the perfectly wrong time!"

“Why?”

“We’re just…” Francesca actually hears herself trail off as every argument fades away to the memory of the way it felt to be pressed against John in her too-small bed, in her tiny apartment, as their symphony echoed off the walls.

“These next years coming up are so important for both of us. For our careers, for our art,” she finally protests. “We have to focus and... I can’t. Not entirely.”

"Sorry again, on that count…." 

Francesca has always admired Kate’s no-nonsense attitude until this exact moment.

She counts the measures of silence until…

“Frannie, you should know that no one understands better than me how hard it can be to fall in love at exactly the wrong time.”

Francesca remembers the rumblings about the drama of a blind date Anthony went on with Kate’s sister, the months the two of them spent bickering and pining, until finally the Bridgertons started placing wagers on when they would finally get their act together.

To see them look at one another now, it’s impossible to think that there was ever a time when the both of them weren’t absolutely sure.

But then, here’s Kate, assuring her that it can happen this way.

And she has no idea what to think.

"Unfortunately, you can't just wish it away," her sister-in-law offers softly. "And if it's real, it'll be worth every complication."

Anthony returns then, of course he does, and Francesca knows he can’t help mirroring the anxious expressions they struggle to hide as he shuffles them out of the restaurant onto the dewy spring avenues.

Their car approaches, and suddenly she knows how important it is to thank Kate for the gift she’s given her tonight — even though she can already see how she’ll spend her train ride north shredding the metaphorical wrapping to confetti, wishing that, just for once, she could be a normal Bridgerton, with a blustering sense of herself and the confidence to look life in the eye.

"You're gonna be fine, Frannie," Kate promises, with a fond glance over to Anthony, before she leans in to whisper. "That look on your face when you talked about him? That was all I needed to see."

Is there a world, she wonders, where it gets to be that easy?

_____________

Somehow, John is waiting for her at the train station when she returns —  even though Francesca’s quite certain she didn’t tell him which one she’d be on.

"Hiya, Fancy," he says with that grin, and instantly it’s so easy to forget how many times she's tried to hide herself away from the potential of heartbreak.

“Hi, you,” she answers, matching his smile and then his lips, threading an arm through his, not realizing that he’s about to take an ice pick to the rest of her self doubt.

The music building is supposed to be locked after midnight. Yet somehow, tonight, John has a key. He leads her by hand to that very same practice room, the one where he barged in on her — what feels like it might have been a lifetime ago.

He sits her at the piano bench, places a bundle of sheet music on the rack, and something stirs deep inside of her when she recognizes his writing on the pages.

A gasp. "Composer's block?" 

"Gone. I think I had just the inspiration I needed." 

They smile at one another, brief and almost blinding, before she turns back to the page. But then, she thinks, maybe this is the moment.

"John, I…"

And she freezes. The the words won't come. There are so many ways this could go, and yet, in the moment, her traitorous mind can only imagine the scenarios that end in heartbreak. It’s not the time, he’s not the one, she’s not built for a love like this…

She turns back, helpless, only to find nothing but those eyes — the ones she fell in love with before she ever knew what was happening.

" Francesca ." Her name again, a complete stanza off his lips. "Please, just play it."

She does, turning back to the keys — back to the home she knows better than any other — and starting in with gusto.

It's beautiful .

She realizes after just a few measures that she knows him well enough now to hear him in the composition, to see his smile in the swell of the melody, his kind encouragement in the way the movements ebb and flow.

And then, there. 

At the beginning of the third, the piano line that he’ll hide just under the strings. 

A variation on the Rachmaninoff. Too complex for an untrained musician, but it's suddenly all she can hear. 

It's so beautiful .

And so is he. And so are they. And all she has to do is allow it.

The most beautiful thing of all, it turns out, is when she finishes, and absently flips back to read what he ended up titling the piece — a detail she'd admittedly, blindly skipped over in her haste to hear it out loud.

And there it is.

Fancy, My Love

_____________ _____________

(p.s. full credit to this TikTok for inspiring that one scene)

[strangedreamings]

S3E2 (spoilers abound)

Agatha and Charlotte talking about LW's latest column. Charlotte mentions that Edwina has "made a splendid match abroad." So, does that mean she didn't end up with your (great-)nephew Friedrich? Interesting. The shippers will be disappointed, but that's what AO3 is for. Can this be the final mention of Edwina, please?

Pen, did you have to mention Kate's age? I get the point you're trying to make but bringing it up again seems crass.

So glad Mrs. Varley approves of Pen's makeover. She has presumably known Pen since she was a baby so this is nice to see.

The Mondriches getting a tour of their new house. Alice is lowkey PISSED OFF about this whole thing and their new housekeeper doesn't seem any happier.

Eloise walking with Benedict and Colin. Where are her flowers? I don't know if her modiste is Delacroix or the other one but damn, let her have her florals.

Does Benedict not have his own storyline this season? So far, he's just been a supporting character for his siblings' storylines. If he's supposed to be the Bridgerton lead for S4, he needs to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING for himself this season.

Oh God, more secondhand embarrassment watching Pen try to interact with any man besides Colin and Lord Debling. She wasn't nervous at all around Debling last episode, probably because she doesn't see him as a potential suitor (yet). Nervous laughter, the poor thing.

Agatha, Violet, Francesca, and Hyacinth talking about the lords. Well, a music-lover would be a necessity. Is young Hyacinth this interested in the Marriage Mart in the books? I've only read her and Gareth's book once but if I remember correctly, she was not interested in the whole thing, so this seems OOC. I mean, it works, don't get me wrong, but it's not like what I remember her book counterpart to be. Florence is growing up so fast. If they don't get Hyacinth presented next season, she's going to look too old soon to convincingly play a girl still in the schoolroom. Hyacinth is dressing more like a grown-up now -- her hem is lower, etc, so there is some acknowledgement by the show that she is growing up.

No mention at all of the Stirlings so far. I just glanced at the cast list on IMDB and there's a Lord Samadani in 2 episodes this season. Same last initial, so that could be the show's John. As long as her future husband's got a Scottish accent, I don't care what his name is. (I assume Regency Era Scotland is as racially integrated in this universe as RE England.)

I swear, Pen's mother and sisters' hair color changes with each season.

"Do you think babies appear in your womb?" Portia, you're the one who told them two Seasons ago that pregnancy was a contagious disease, are you really that surprised that they're this ignorant about how to get pregnant?

Colin in bed with two women. Those had better be courtesans because if they're two unmarried women of the ton, I'm going to kill him. As long as they're courtesans, I'm actually okay with it -- it was practically expected for young unmarried men of his social status to be sexually experienced before marriage. A horrid double-standard since women of the same class were expected to be virgins, I know, but it was hoped that by sowing their wild oats before marriage, men would be faithful to their wives when they were married. It does look odd that these women didn't even let down their hair before getting into bed. We've seen Simon in S1 with a woman in his bed and Anthony in bed with what was possibly a succession of women but just one at a time in S2, so I believe this is the first time we've seen a threesome on this show. Shonda, here's a hint -- THE MALE LEADS DO NOT NEED TO TOP THE PREVIOUS MALE LEAD'S EXPLOITS. Benedict (or whoever is the male lead in S4) does not need to do something even more outrageous than a threesome, trust me.

"Same time tomorrow?" Has he been doing this DAILY since he got back? Colin, you'd better have this same level of stamina for your wife (and of course, only your wife) once you're married.

Aww, I was hoping for a Polin first meeting flashback, but reminiscing is almost as good. At least that's more or less identical from the scene in the book. Rae, Pen's maid, needs a raise and possibly hazard pay.

"What exactly happened?" Colin, baby, you DO NOT want to know, trust me.

The Mondriches having separate bedrooms will not last. It's a stupid tradition if the couple truly wants to share a bedroom.

Oh, so El's modiste is Delacroix. WHERE ARE HER FLOWERS, GENEVIEVE?! I mean, Francesca is wearing flowers, the two girls should switch dresses.

Pen coming over to Bridgerton House and Colin surprises her with flirtation practice. I have loved his floral waistcoat since I first saw photos of this scene but I had NO IDEA it laces up in the back. Slutty, slutty waist indeed. (This is the first and probably last time I will ever use that phrase.) Speaking of clothes, I hate the tulle tied around Pen's neck. It's out of place however you look at it. The dress itself is lovely, though. I've loved all of her new gowns so far.

And now we have the "kind eyes" scene that Netflix showed us before. One honest compliment from Pen and Colin is THIRSTY, I love it.

Yes, have her hide in the study, where any family member or servant can enter at any moment. Colin, take it from another writer -- if you don't want someone else to read what you write, DON'T LEAVE YOUR OPEN JOURNAL IN A PLACE ANYONE CAN FIND IT. He really is clueless about everything, isn't he?

One emotionally and physically (hands!) intimate moment then they both jump back like they've been shocked. I love these two, they are adorably hopeless.

Eloise sees Pen just as she's leaving. No words between them but all the anguish on their faces. This isn't going to resolve anytime soon, is it?

Glad Alice can find one good thing about her new status. I agree, the jewelry is lovely, but to see it just in the vanity's drawers like that is odd to me.

Finally, El is back in florals. Perhaps there is hope for her yet. This is the dress she's worn in all the promo shorts, so I'm sure this ball is very significant. The damn sheer gloves are back and I'm not crazy about the necklace either -- it looks too modern, but the dress itself is lovely.

"How is she?" You still care, Eloise. Just talk to her. Argue if you need to, but get it all out of your systems, you'll both feel better and you'll be better friends in the end.

"Perhaps the most eligible right now, strangely." God, I love the sibling dynamics on this show -- it's one of the few things the writers are consistently good at. "I love you and I will never hesitate to tease you every chance I get."

Whose bright idea was it to have a ball in semi-darkness? Is this because of the full moon? Yes, back then, full moon nights were very popular nights for parties but that was because PEOPLE COULD FUCKING SEE OUTSIDE ON THEIR WAY TO THE BALL. In the time before streetlights, that was very important. THERE IS NO REASON TO NOT HAVE THIS INDOOR BALL PROPERLY LIT. People can barely make out everyone's faces, let alone their expressions.

Oh, Lady Cowper just criticized Cressida and I'm sure this isn't the first time. Okay, now she has my sympathy.

"I do enjoy a good turn." Eloise, you are a terrible liar, but apparently, no one there, not even YOUR MOTHER, can tell.

"They've taken to hunting in packs." Yeah, Benedict, they kind of have to when you're not chasing any of them. We get it, you're bored, so why did you even come?

Where's that deaf debutante? I want to see more of her.

I'm glad Pen gets along with her brothers-in-law so well. They're nice to her, in spite or perhaps because of the way their wives treat her.

Pen's stars dress and necklace look lovely on her. Too bad it's utterly wasted on Colin.

"... simply pretend they are dead." That explains so damn much about you, Cressida.

"She was at my house today." Eloise, you better guard your tongue, anything you say next can and will be used against Penelope.

"It seems Colin is helping her look for a husband." WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY?! This is Cressida Cowper you're speaking to, the 2nd biggest gossip in London. YOU UTTER MORON!

(Honestly, I'm not sure which sibling is in possession of the Bridgerton braincell this season, but it's not Anthony, Benedict, Colin, or Eloise. I'm reserving judgement on Francesca. Maybe Daphne took it back to Clyvedon with her the last time she visited.)

Hmm, it seems it's Benedict's turn to be the Bridgerton or Basset closest to the Mondriches this season. I like it.

"Inserts himself where?" Philippa, I know you're not the brightest crayon in the box but what the hell? Portia, this is all on you.

"I cannot think of anything at the moment." Cressida Cowper holding her tongue for the first time in her life? The full moon is getting to everybody, apparently.

I like this Lord Remington. He seems nice and he loves to read LW's column, and it's good to see more diversity in the ton. No one so far treats him differently just because he can't walk.

Oh fuck, that news didn't take long to spread. Just shows that the ton doesn't need LW to spread gossip -- these people would have been exactly the same without Pen's column. What LW does is make people aware of gossip outside their social circle. I can only assume these debutantes and mamas actually do see Penelope as a rival now or they wouldn't have cared what she did.

So we've got Colin telling Eloise off but it's not enough. At least El didn't blab Pen's secret to him. And Cressida is innocent, but El's still in the wrong for telling a secret in public since she was, of course, overheard.

Oh Lord, Fran is going to be the Diamond but she's an introvert, this is not going to go well. She knows it too. Agatha, you really did it this time.

I'm glad the Mondriches are taking control of things. Will's right, the current viscounts, etc didn't do anything to earn their titles, only the original title holders did. Every successive title holder is simply riding their ancestor's coattails.

At least Pen changed her clothes before she started writing this column, but the tear running down her face means she's still not in an emotionally good place. Hopefully, she won't regret anything in this one.

Well, looks like her sisters are finally in the baby race. *eyeroll* Who wants to bet both of them have girls first?

Cressida is both garnering my sympathy and has a point! There is hope for her yet! I think if she can just get away from her mother, she'd be nicer (and much better off).

Hey, Portia, maybe if you actually SUPPORTED PENELOPE FOR ONCE, she wouldn't have to resort to extreme means to get a husband.

We've got Colin bribing Rae to give them privacy and Pen asking him for a kiss. This is either going to end really well or really badly, but they've only got less than two minutes to figure out which.

50/50? They both went back for more but then she ran back into the house and he's standing there gaping. So, Colin, did she rock your world? If so, you'd better do something about it. And by that, I definitely DO NOT mean you should tell anyone. Not your buddies, not your brothers, and definitely not El.

We are a quarter of the way through the season and hooboy, the angst is flowing.

[verin2000]

Rules: Answer and tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!

Tagged by @flutter2deceive :) thank you for tagging me!! now i get to infodump >:)

Last song you listened to: City Lights, by Blanche. i've been listening to a playlist full of belgian classics whilst studying

Favorite color: oof i can't decide lol. it was red for the longest time but i think at this point i just like any jewel tone!

Currently watching: nothing at the moment. i finished cbs ghosts in early may but i haven't started anything new yet as i'm currently very busy with school. so in the meantime i've just been rewatching random episodes of ghosts as it's my current obsession lol. once school calms down a bit i'm debating on watching either bridgerton, abbott elementary or the gilded age.

Sweet/savory/spicy: i refuse to make a decision here sorry lol

Relationship status: happily single! i don't want to remain single for the rest of my life but currently i don't really have room for a relationship.

Current obsession: cbs ghosts. i'm trying to pace out my obsessions a bit :p

Last thing you googled: i looked up whether cbs ghosts is finally on streamz - it is!!

i'm way too shy to tag anyone myself but thanks again for tagging me! <3 it's fun to be part of a community!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Consent is back for the holidays

Follower milestone celebration vote

This is a little token of my love for all of you amazing, supportive, loveliest people for my recent follower milestone. Thank you for letting me share my work and for being so kind, I appreciate you beyond words ❤️

I've mentioned before that I don't have the talent for taking requests, and since we had fun on the last vote, I thought we could do another one - this time on the Consent drabbles/oneshots you'd like to read, with a seasonal twist!

I'm aiming to write for the top 3 voted for prompts, pairing one to each holiday. The prompt with the most votes will be set in the holiday with the most votes, etc. Details below the cut.

I hope I'm not being presumptuous in assuming that you guys would be interested in reading more from the Consent universe! I'm excited to write for our Dieter and Intimacy Coordinator again ❤️

Vote here!

If you'd rather stay on Tumblr, you can also vote in comments, reblogs, or asks if you want to vote anonymously.

1. Holidays list

🎄 Christmas

🦃 Thanksgiving

🍾 New Year’s Eve

2. Prompts list

🎩 Bridgerton (this will be filth/this idea has been floating around for eons - will it finally get written? 😂)

🇮🇹 Going back to Italy

🥃 Drunken confession

⌚️ Dieter shoots a watch ad (this will be filth)

💕 Matching tattoos

You can vote for as many holidays and prompts as you like from the lists - I will tally the total overall numbers.

I know this is early, but I will be travelling for a good half of December so I will need to finish writing these in November. I will leave this vote up for a couple of weeks, depending on the response. Let me know if you have any questions, I have no idea if the above makes sense 🙈

Special Dieter hoe tags 😉 @mandoblowmybackout @pedropascalsx

[think-pieces]

Sunjoy signing on,

It has been too long my friends. So let's get into it

bridgerton season 3.

the disappoint that radiated throughout me was unparalleled to anything before. Now I've heard on the streets that they fired ("replaced") the show runner (producer one of those head honchos who makes final decisions on things) with someone else. which makes sense; considering this seasons tone and Season 2's tone are completely different. In the way that, two different people created those seasons. It wasn't a case of natural progression.

now there was no number 1 worst part for me. it was all around bad in my opinion.

The writing was weak, mediocre. The acting was okay. The sex scenes weren't all that great for me. (I skipped all of them honestly). The ending sequence wasn't my favorite. and the costuming.

where to even begin on that?

Let's open with the makeup. The smokey eye? the Full Face Beat? The NAILS?? only maybe one or two dresses weren't all that bad on the main cast.

it was, just all around disappointing for me. Primarily because it's now regency inspired and not a Regency Romance. It's very lackluster. I feel at this point they could've made 8 movies instead of an 8 season show. The two earlier seasons were excellent. They leaned into the regency aspect of it. Focused on a "women's role", and gave the characters true agency. I genuinely (for the most part) felt as though I was watching people who happened to be filmed. This season felt filmed in a bad way.

I have read the series and I loved it. There were some things in any media that I could take or leave, but for the most part I thoroughly enjoyed them. The regency did take a back burner but it was acceptable since it was more about character thoughts and observations. It was a little picture so to speak. The show is big picture. Season 1 growing into Season 2 was amazingly done. You can tell that the show runner made improvements for the better and tried to understand the rules of regency and build up on this world they created. Season 3, didn't grow into a better world. it became lackluster and grey.

I felt season 1 was steamier than season 3. despite them saying "it's the sexiest one yet." I call bullshit. Maybe it's the approach But I found season 3 to be like, actors standing on their mark and saying their line. not people having a conversation or interaction.

not to mention all the storylines they do NOTHING with. I mean nothing. not a damn thing with them!. Eloise's storyline for instance was fine, it went a totally different way than I could've anticipated, just lackluster.

Colin and Penelopes storyline? meh. and I'm gonna bare my soul when I say this, I didn't like their book. I didn't. I'm not a fan of the "Character A waiting for forever for Character B to notice them." type of thing. it makes it, sad for me. I digress.

I did however LOVE Francesca. I wasn't a fan of her book (lot of porn not enough plot for me). So this brought a whole new love to her and John's story for me. A deeper meaning to their marriage as well. I didn't like her ending. Mostly because I enjoyed the "Character B struck by lightning of being in love" moments (Michaela/MIchael being character B) and I felt robbed.

all this to say. I will still watch season 4, I might not finish it (looking at you house of dragon season 2 last four episodes). But I will at least check it out.

Unfortunately I'm not in a visuals mood tonight so, apologies for no photos or end song videos.

Sunjoy signing off

[bribumblebee]

Finally responding to the few games I've been tagged in! Thank you @cha-melodius @happiness-of-the-pursuit @getmehighonmagic

Not tagging anyone cause I'm so late, but thank you to those who tagged me 🥹❤️

First up is the Pinterest game

Rules: search fashion, pantone, mood, food and share the first (or one of the top five) images it gives you

These all seem pretty on par for me, so kudos to Pinterest on this one!

***

Next is the Character Vibes Poll

Rules: Pick four characters from four fandoms and let your followers decide whose vibes/personality fit you the most.

Ha, I know which one I'd pick for myself from this poll...😂

Get to Know Me, This or That: RWRB Edition, and About Me under the cut.

***

Next is Get to Know Me

Favorite color: Blue

Last song: Probably either something from SIX or Eminem's new album

Currently reading: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Currently watching: A Yankees game, and maybe the Euro 2024 Finals later

Currently craving: Idk if craving is the right word, but I'm waiting on a RWRB poster to arrive in the mail

Coffee or tea: Neither

***

Next is This or That: RWRB Edition

The rules: I’ll list two things and you pick your favourite and bold it. Or pick both of you can't choose, I’m not your mum. And then tag some friends to join in if you like.

Here we go:

// Cakegate or the Great Turkey Calamity // Red Room or tack room // strumpet or biscuit // Don’t Stop Me Now or Your Song // Yes, good, carry on or We all must learn and grow // Prince Buttercup or Hoe Dameron // Henry runs on NYE or Henry runs from the lake house // I am very, very gay or Bisexuality truly is a rich and complex tapestry // fire under your ass for no good goddamn reason or bottom of the pie crust chat // baby or sweetheart // The whole bloody time or set me on fire // Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi // AN INCOMPLETE LIST or your body comes back to me in dreams // burgundy velvet suit or midnight-blue bomber jacket // bad metaphors about maps or hometown stuff // obtuse fucking asshole or then fucking have me // America: He is my choice or Never tell me the odds // sería una mentira porque no sería él or history, huh? // I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you or I love him on purpose //

Thank you for this @myheartalivewrites ❤️

***

Finally, we have About Me (idk if it's called that, but)

I’m over 5’5” / I wear glasses or contacts / I have blonde hair / I often wear sweatshirts / I prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / I have one or two piercings / I have at least one tattoo / I have blue eyes / I have dyed or highlighted my hair / I have or have had braces / I have freckles / I paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / I don’t often smile / resting bitch face / I play sports / I play an instrument / I know more than one language / I can cook or bake / I like writing / I like to read / I can multitask / I’ve never dated anyone / I have a best friend I’ve known for over five years / I am an only child

Wow, not much going on here, I guess...😅

***

I don't actually write fanfiction, so no OC Piccrew or Fashion Forward Friday game responses from me.

[111-prxtty]

SOMEHOW this is looking like a great fucking summer for me!!

First I get like two and a half months off (thank you exams)

Second we're getting a new hoover at work. The one we currently have is absolutely knackered and the nozel keeps twisting round or sliding off and the own has FINALLY signed off for a new one after two years of my manager asking for one! (I've only been there since December so can barely complain but still)

Third new doctor who is currently being aired, we just got the first part of bridgerton 3 and will be getting the second part soonish, theres new criminal minds coming out around the same time as that and there's a new season of Grey's anatomy (I haven't watched it in months but I might start again but I'm not sure yk)

Fourth I have great friends at the moment and am so excited for all beach days and picnics and sleepovers and hot girl walks that are going to happen (they don't know it's happening yet but they will love it or I'll cry)

Fifth (why is there a second f in fifth??) I'm so excited to work on building my tiktok account and this account bc I'll actually have the time for it and will hopefully be improving my writing for you guys* and the quality of my videos for tiktok!!

And sixth I think I'm gonna start a new hobby bc why not! I love my current ones but I need to spice it up every now and then (I'm open to suggestions if you have any ideas for me <3)

★

*if there's anything you want me to write then just ask and I'll do my best!!

[lookingfts]

hello!!! do you already watch the bridgerton 4 episodes??? what are your thoughts on polin??? did you like it or not??? only if you want to answer of course, i will totally understand if you prefer not to

I have! I watched all four episodes on the day they aired. I did a short version of my thoughts on the season, but I'll do a bit of a deeper dive here. (Some spoilers below)

To set the stage: I had no real expectations for Polin. I've never read any of the books, and I didn't find myself particularly drawn to them in S1 and S2. So I figured I would watch the season, and if I didn't fall in love with them, that's fine - there are eight love stories, and people will feel different levels of investment in all of them. And if I did enjoy it, then I would be happy with that too! I try to go into everything with a mindset of hoping to enjoy it - otherwise, I wouldn't watch it. I simply don't hate watch things, I don't have time.

I'll probably need a rewatch to catch more moments that I've missed, but my initial thoughts are: I'm rooting for Polin! One of my issues throughout the last two seasons was that the show didn't give us enough of their friendship dynamic. It told us that they were friends, but we didn't see them spend much time together. I felt more like they had been friends growing up, and she was clinging to that while he had started to move on to a new phase of his life. I never got the feeling that they were friends in the present, or understood what particularly they were drawn to about each other.

In this season, I finally saw their chemistry as friends, rather than just Pen pining after Colin and him being oblivious. As Pen's confidence grew and she focused less on Colin, their relationship felt more equal and I enjoyed watching that. I also think that some of the qualities that bothered me about Penelope in previous seasons were smoothed out in S3. She was able to stand up for herself more in her real life, and thus wasn't "hiding" behind Lady Whistledown as much. She used LW to lift up the debutantes, and in general it felt like she had taken her fight with Eloise to heart and was attempting to fix things.

(I do also love Pen and Eloise's arc this season - it feels so genuine. They both truly care about each other, but they need time to work through all the hurt.)

Colin is fun this season. I've always liked him, in previous seasons, when he was interacting with his siblings. He does show real interest in them and they can confide in him. Unfortunately, he doesn't have as fleshed out of a personality as Anthony or Benedict, and I truly don't think that Luke Newton has the same acting range as Nicola, so they're a bit mismatched in that way. Nicola is obviously very talented and she looks insanely gorgeous this season.

But for the most part, I was having fun watching their story, and I wanted them to work it out. I don't think they needed to make Colin a rake; him being less experienced would have made a nice contrast to Anthony's story, I think. I also think the pacing was off; they haven't spent much time together so far, so the ending feels fast. I think they wasted a lot of opportunities to better build up their story in previous seasons so they could have hit the ground running this season.

(Ngl I really loved Lord Debling and would have been okay with Penelope ending up with him, but I know that wasn't really the marriage she wanted, so that's fine.)

So long story short: I've warmed up to Penelope, I think Colin is still a bit generic to really get invested in him, the season as a whole has been fun, and I want them to work things out. I am looking forward to the LW drama in part 2 and seeing how they get out of that mess.

[moonchild-in-blue]

Hey lovely

6, 7 and 14 for the asks!! Please and thank you 😍

Muwah, hi Kate! 😘

6 - Episode of tv/web that defined the year for you?

Oh God, what have I watched?? I forgor 🥺

Hmmmm, okay! So, I have been re-watching Adventure Time (my beloved) and this one episode broke my heart all over again. "Thank You" S3 ep 17. It's about a snow golem caring for a fire wolf. It has no dialogue, and it is just beautiful 🥺

Also, Shingeki no Kyojins (Attack on Titan) finale. I've been keeping up with both the manga and anime since 2013 (literally a decade), and to see it come to an end is... Yeah. I'm still not over it.

(oh, and Riverdale ended as well. I don't care how cringe and campy that show is, I got attached and the final episode was very emotionally conflicted. I can't believe i kept up with it 💀)

7 - Favourite actor of the year?

I don't think I have one tbh. I'm really bad at keeping up with new stuff - I just rewatch same things over and over. I have only recently started Fleabag (need to finish s2) and I'm LOVING IT. So Phoebe Waller-Bridge?

Oh wait! I forgot about Queen Charlotte (yes I love Bridgerton). Kudos to the main cast - they killed it!

14 - Favourite book you've read this year?

I already said Dracula, but for the sake of variety - Everything is Fine. It's a horror webtoon that i absolutely LOVE, and everyone should read it asap. It's beautiful, it's intelligent, it's very disturbing. I love it.

[whitedahlia13]

I was tagged by @lydias--stiles (thank you 🧡💙)

Last song: Girl by SYML (and I shouldn't because I feel vulnerable today and this song makes me 🥹)

Currently watching: Queen Charlotte (I was underwhelmed by Bridgerton, so I had my doubts, but this one is reeling me in) and Endeavour (the finale aired last night, and I haven't seen it yet, but this is the saddest I have been to see the end of series in years😭)

Current obsession: same one I've had since 2011, Stydia. Also, dark chocolate, caramel, (sometimes both), poetry, floral prints, my new fringe/bangs, iced coffee Sundays, decluttering

Currently reading: You Better Be Lightning a poetry collection by the brilliant Andrea Gibson (okay, I haven't started it yet, but it's next on my list. I haven't really been in a reading mood lately)

Tagging: @kylermalloy @folglore13 @yourenotdonefighting @stydiashipper11 @slowlyfallingmadlyinlove and anyone else who wants to do this 😘

[hopepaigeturner]

I hope you don’t mind me saying this but you’re my favourite benophie ao3 author in the fandom by far - I reread your gardener-designer!Sophie fic wayyy too often to be healthy :P and your s4 speculation posts are brilliant!! You don’t have to reply to this ask at all, but in your s4 rewrite, how would Genevieve, Anthony and Benedict figure out that Araminta’s thrown Sophie in jail?

An Offer From an Avid Reader: Anthony and Benophie Pt.4

Firstly in response to the message...

I'm so glad you like The Light in These Shadows!! It's the fic I care and am most proud about and I'm actually planning on getting it finished this summer. And thank you thank you for such high praise!!

Ands ofcourse I'll answer the ask! I love answering you guys--thanks for being patient! Let's dive right in!

✨The Context✨

So...the title.

I wrote the scene below and I've realised that this scene is a really good way of rounding off Benedict and Anthony's arc during this season. The arc goes from Anthony being blind to the support Benedict gives him, to recognising it, to then returning it when his brother needs it the most. Hence why this is part 4 of my Anthony & Benophie post.

But first, as it's been a while, let me remind you of context for the scene below.

Scene: Ginny, Anthony and Benedict pairing up to find Sophie. Call back to 'What is it to admire a woman' which finally gets Anthony to understand how important Sophie si to Benedict.

Eloise being visited by a certain someone who gives her some useful gossip...

Sophie in prison pt. 1 ending with the arrival of Araminta...

The scene below.

✨The Scene✨

Benedict, Anthony, and Genevieve Delacroix enter the frame. The latter two talking and the former unnaturally withdrawn. They pass in front of Bridgerton House.

“I insist you come in for refreshments—we have kept you the entire morning,” Antony says. It seems in their little quest he seems more at ease around Genevieve.

“Oh, I do not think it would be proper.”

“Neither would be my brother marrying an illegitimate daughter,” Anthony quips back earning a smile as they ascend the stairs. It seems he is not the only one whose ice has thawed during this encounter.

“We must find her first,” Benedict mumbles. Genevieve’s face falls.

“I cannot think of another place she could have gone…perhaps you should try the docks? She would muse about saving money and boarding a ship to America…a place where class is not so rigid.”

“America?” Anthony cries.

“I have already asked around the docks, but none are sure they have seen her.” Benedict exhales wearily. “But if she is on a boat then she will be safe…safe from all who could hurt her or failed her.”

“Benedict you have never—”

“I have failed her far too many times.” His eyes are distant; the ball, Penwood Place, the lake, the studio.

The trio start climbing the stairs.

“But if she has gone to America what would you do?” Anthony asks, looking pained at his brother’s drawn face. Benedict rolls his shoulders as if winding himself up then gives a smile—a pale imitation of his usual grin.

“Never fear, brother, I will still be useful. I shall shower your children with presents, be their greatest conspirator for pranks and corrupt them when they turn of age—you better watch out Anthony, your children shall adore me and I will be undoubtedly the best Uncle of them all."

“You could find another—”

“No.” Benedict’s voice is determined but gentle, as they stand in front of the door. “No. There is only Sophie. I knew it two years ago, I know it now and I shall know it on my death bed.”

“Benedict…” Anthony says, hand reaching for his shoulder. Benedict steps away.

“Please, do not—”

The green door slams open.

“We found Sophie!” Hyacinth cries, barreling into them as they go into the hall. The other ladies are following—Violet at the front. “That new gossip sheet found Sophie!”

“What?”

Benedict snatches the paper away—his entire frame trembles when he sees the words.

“Benedict? What is it?”

“There was quite the scene along the cobbles of Grosvenor Square two day ago, when a young woman was accosted by Countess of Penwood on the grounds of the woman stealing from her. Considering the most recent scandal the countess has found herself in, this author cannot guarantee the validity of the countess’ claims. But the constable had no such quibbles when he carted the young woman off to jail…

“That damn witch!” Genevieve remembers her surroundings and curtsies, “I apologise my ladies and gentlemen.”

“Not at all, I can agree that Lady Penwood is an utter b---,” Kate says without flinching. Meanwhile Anthony is reading the paper. In the background is Benedict pacing, running his hands through his hair, his face in anguish.  

“She’s in prison—oh god—she put Sophie in prison. She could hang, she could…”

Anthony looks and sees Benedict ready to bolt—or hyperventilate. He grasps Benedict by the shoulders.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

 Benedict does, his eyes seeking support. And for once he finds support in Anthony’s eyes—not the other way around. Anthony continues, words slow but full of feeling.

“We shall rescue her; we shall free her, Benedict. And you two will be married and you will live the rest of your lives in love. I swear it on my title, and on father’s name. Do you hear me?” Benedict mumbles. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” Benedict’s voice is hoarse. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. Now, let us fetch a carriage and free Sophie.” Anthony straightens up and fixes his waistcoat. “After all, if my title means that I am a hoarder of privilege, power and wealth that was built on the backs of the oppressed—then I might as well use it for some good.” he smirks at Eloise whose mouth is open at the parroting of her words.  “Let us go.”

“Wait for me!” Violet Birdgerton calls, grabbing her purse from Mrs Wilson and walking towards the doors.

“Absolutely not,” Anthony states. “I will not have you exposed to—”

Violet brushes him off.

“Oh, Anthony, it is not as if I am a wilting flower. And this is not up for discussion.” Violet does not make a habit of using the divine right of mothers, but when she does it is felt with force. “Also, I can vouch for Sophie’s character.”

A staring match between Anthony and Violet…Violet raises her eyebrow. Anthony breaks the stare. Violet smiles and walks out, calling over her shoulder,

“Now, we must make haste!”

Benedict and Anthony share a look, Benedict nods slightly and follows his mother—still visibly distraught.

Anthony reaches back and pulls Kate in for a kiss.

“We shall be back anon.”

“Bring her home safe, my love.”

“Ofcourse. And make sure Madame Delacroix has something to eat—she has not broken her fast yet.”

“Lord Bridgerton I am quite capable—” but Anthony does not hear the seamstress as he runs out and bundles into the carriage. As soon as the door is shut Anthony, Violet and Benedict cry,

“Ride on!”

And they’re off! But ofcourse the question is—can they save Sophie in time?

*~*~*~*~*~*

As always I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests.

Concerning this series I think I will be uploading a little more--but right now my focus is going to be on The Light in These Shadows which I want to finish before S3 comes out. I've got some stuff in the pipeline, (Eloise, Kanthony & Sofa scene) but I'll proabably do this series on a request basis.

So, check out the list here, for more of my ideas.

Or check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.