#regency historical fiction

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter vi

Summary: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Prince Steven of House Rogers and Lady Natasha of House Romanoff.

Warning: Arranged Marriage.

Word Count: 1256

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A/N: I'm very happy for the Romanoff girlies. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @mrsnikstan | @learisa | @railmesebstan | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @barnesxstan | @ghalouha | @mrsstuckyboo | @g-nobody | @mishidrish

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602

The morrow of the wedding dawned with a warm sunrise, a golden hue casting over the capital. Anticipation buzzed around the streets of Brooklyn, decorated with banners and vibrant flowers. Gleaming under the morning light, the palace adorned the colors of House Rogers and House Romanoff. 

Standing in Natasha’s quarters, your heart raced. Your dress was a beautiful masterpiece, with intricate embroidery and the finest silk. It reflected the status and elegance befitting of a noblewoman. 

Yelena helped you with the final touches in your braids as Natasha walked in wearing her wedding dress. It was magnificent, exquisite blends of gold and crimson symbolized the union of the two great houses.

“You look beautiful,” Yelena said softly, her eyes filled with sisterly pride toward Natasha. 

“You too,” Natasha replied with an unwavering smile, she reached out and adjusted a strand of your hair. “It’s a big day for all of us.” 

A knock signaled it was time and Yelena guided you through the grand corridors to the ceremonial hall. Taking a deep breath, the thick air and the scent of blooming roses filled your senses along with the hum of whispered conversations. From all across the realm, noble guests gathered as their elaborate attires added to the splendor of the event. 

The grandeur of the setting took your breath away as you entered the hall. High-arched ceilings draped in silk banners, pews lined with dignitaries and lords, all eyes turned towards the front where the ceremony would take place. Prince Steve stood at the altar, resplendent in his attire, his face composed of joy.

Standing by his side as his loyal companion was Lord James. His gaze met yours you took your place among the bridesmaids, a flicker of warmth passed through his eyes as they widened slightly. You gave him a small, reassuring smile. 

The grand doors opened once more, and the hall fell silent. Natasha, escorted by your father Lord Ivan Romanoff of Belova, entered with grace. Her smile, radiant, lit up the room. You could see the love that had grown out of duty as she approached her future husband. The king and queen, sat with dignified poise as they watched with approval. Their son preparing to take this significant step in life, and for the realm they protect. 

You found your gaze drifting towards Lord James as the ceremony progressed. Standing tall and composed, his eyes occasionally sought yours across the hall. A silent understanding passed between you, each time your eyes met, and your heart would quicken. The vows were solemn as they echoed through the hall, and Natasha held pride in her eyes as she pledged her love and loyalty to Prince Steve. 

When the ceremony concluded, the Grand Priest spoke his blessings, and the hall erupted in applause. Their first kiss as husband and wife was met with cheers. Glancing at Lord James, he was already looking over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Returning the smile, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. 

~

The newlyweds led the procession out of the ceremonial hall, the guests followed as they moved toward the grand banquet hall. The entrance to the hall was flanked by tall candelabras, flames flickering golden glows highlighting the opulence within. Tapestries depicting the histories of both your House and House Rogers, adorned the walls, intertwined in a vibrant display of artistry. 

As you mingled with the guests and chatted with various nobles, you noticed a friendly and familiar face, a face you hadn’t seen since your childhood, approaching. “Little Lady!” he greeted, his smile broad. 

“Scott!” you exclaimed as he pulled you into a friendly embrace, laughter escaped your lips as you let out a breath. “It’s wonderful to see you.” 

As you reminisce about old times, you and Scott fell into an easy conversation. His stories and humor never failed to make you laugh, however as your spirits continued to lift, you were acutely aware of Lord James watching you from across the hall. His gaze was intense. 

He stood with Prince Steve and Natasha, his gaze never faltering off you and Scott. “Who is that?” he asked, his voice low as it betrayed in hiding his jealousy. 

Following Lord James’ gaze, Prince Steve glanced over. “Scott Lang. Lord of a neighboring land to Belova. Married to Lady Van Dyne, I do believe.” 

His expression darkened, and his fingers tightened around his goblet. “What is he doing with my betrothed?” he muttered, possessiveness laced in his tone.

Catching the edge in his voice, Natasha smiled. “Scott has been a friend of our House and to us since childhood, Lord James. They’ve known each other for years.” 

At that moment, you glanced over and caught sight of Lord James’ intense gaze. You offered him a small wave, smiling brightly and reassuringly. The tension in Lord James’ stance and jaw softened in that instant. Returning your smile with a small nod. 

Noticing your attention shift, Scott followed your gaze. “Ah, Lord James,” he said with a knowing smile. “The White Wolf, a formidable warrior, indeed. His combat prowess is unmatched.” 

“Yes, he is remarkable,” you replied, admiration laced in your tone as a blush crept up your cheeks. 

Excusing himself, Lord James’ was unable to stay away any longer. Leaving Prince Steve and Natasha's side, he approached you. Scott gave him a respectful nose as he stepped back, allowing Lord James’ to take his place beside you. 

“My lord,” you greeted him softly, affection shined in your eyes as you met his gaze. 

“My lady,” he replied tenderly. His earlier jealousy was forgotten as his hand found yours, kissing gently against your knuckles.

Couples began to take to the dance floor as the music swelled. He gestured toward the scene before you as he reassured you with a squeeze of your hand. “Would my lady honor me with a dance?” 

Your heart fluttered as you beamed up at him, a wide smile tugged at your lips. “With pleasure, my lord,” you responded. 

Leading you to the dance floor, his hand stayed firm as it held yours. You moved together as the music began to play, you were closer to him than you had been before. Encircling around your waist, the touch of his arm sent a shiver down your spine. The new proximity made your heart race. 

The world around you seemed to fade away into a blur, all that mattered was the feeling of him guiding you. The way his gaze bored into you, an intensity leaving you breathless. His eyes, usually guarded, now revealed a new shade of blue and a depth of emotion that had you in a trance. 

Every turn and step brought you closer, the space shrunk until it felt like you were the only two people in the realm. Heat radiated from his body, and his breath mingled with yours in the shared air. It was intoxicating, the connection and the closeness spoke volumes, all without a word being uttered. 

“You dance beautifully, my lady,” he muttered, his voice a soft rumble as his breath against your ear sent a shiver through you. 

“And you, my lord,” you replied, keeping your voice to a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would break the spell of your moment with him. 

The music began to slow, the dance nearing its end, yet neither of you moved to let go. His grip only seemed to tighten slightly, a plea to stay close and not let the moment slip away. 

---

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[pridepages]

Dear Gentle Reader, can't get enough Bridgerton? Think it would be better if we'd just admit Eloise is sapphic? Fear not! These ladies loving ladies have just the thing... A Bluestocking's Guide to Decadence by Jess Everlee ⭐⭐⭐⭐ A decadent butch lesbian in a lavender marriage seeks out the aid of a straight-laced, bluestocking doctor for a friend. It's just business...until it isn't!

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Lord Marleigh died at Waterloo and like a phoenix, Viola Carroll rose from the ashes to spread her wings. Now she's home, but does she dare trust her old friend, the Duke of Gracewood, with her heart and her true self?

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend by Emma R. Alban ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Marriage is a lady's only preservative from want. Imagine the scandal if one fell for her best friend! There is no future there...unless the two of you can make a match between your newly-single parents.

Infamous by Lex Croucher ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Edith "Eddie" and Rose have been best friends since childhood. But after their debutante ball, Rose is talking about marriage while Eddie can't imagine anything but being a famous writer. When a curious invitation from scandalous poet Nash Nicholson brings Eddie and Rose to an eccentric, hedonistic house party...will it be the end of their friendship or the start of something more?

[thatlongspringnight]

A Moment of Jealousy

Pairing: Jung Hoseok/female reader

Rating: M for mature

Genre:  Historical au, Regency era

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dirty talk, foul language, a ring goes in a place rings shouldn't go, outdoor sex, jealousy

Summary:

Seeing another woman even dare to touch him sets you ablaze, but luckily, Hoseok is always there to quench that fire.

Word Count: 1667

Tagging: @xjoonchildx @hobi-gif @miscelunaaa @vintageroses10 @wwilloww @vyduan @minisugakoobies @augustbutwinter @sahmfanficbts @hamsterclaw @starlostjimin

“You’re a lout!” It's almost shrill…actually, no, it is shrill - tearing from your lips as you walk down the hall, clutching tightly at the skirt of your riding habit as your feet carry you into the garden.

You’re making a scene, happily dragging the servants into this, even happier to drag your husband’s *noble* friends into it as well. “You’re a rake, I should have never let you have me!” and then he’s behind you, not even bothering to respond to you in kind - his cold fury only serving to make you boil, a teapot hissing in simmering rage. 

He must think he’s better than you - he does think it, you know it, and that’s why Hoseok has always driven you mad.

Mad with fury, mad with lust.

Now you’re just mad - 

 “Nothing but a rake.”It's more of a grumble, and only for your own ears this time, as the stableman - expecting the both of you for an afternoon ride, seems surprised to see only you.

Yes of course, no doubt Hoseok had stayed behind, more inclined to calm his surprised sycophants than come after you, even if that is all you want.

All you want is for him to choose you, for his eyes to find your own…and only your own. Is that so much to ask? That the man who married you covet you and you alone? 

“Ah - my lady where is - “ “My lord husband can surely ride his horse on his own time.” You snap. “Or perhaps his whores, I care not either way.” and then you are hoisting yourself up, cursing the side-saddle that would have been lovely on a leisurely stroll, gripping at the pommel with your thighs for some semblance of balance and control. 

The comment is cruel, and truly, likely false. Hoseok - even if his eyes had shined today - at that simpering little fool who had the audacity to bat her eyes at him, to giggle, to place her hand on his arm - 

“My lady, I really insist - “ “Truly, you can insist your way to the seventh hell, Taehyung.” And your horse, handsome gelding he is, is quick to respond to your cue to go, and then go faster at your insistence. 

God in heaven, how you loathe the feelings swirling in your chest, the feeling of inadequacy that builds in your chest at the idea he’d dare to glance at someone else. How his eyes could ever darken in a way you recognize from when they fall onto you. 

Fucker - Heartless bastard. The fast trot of your horse sets your fiery blood nearly to ash. How dare he - 

The more you ride, the angrier you get, your heart set on the one place that can give you peace, that damned grove where he had first asked you.

“Dammit!” and there is a call in the air, just loud enough you can hear it, and it drives you forward. “If you don’t - !” You can’t hear the rest but you can imagine it - Hoseok - on his horse…yelling into the wind.

Yelling for you - 

You stall your gelding, quick to murmur a soft stay as you toss his reins over a tree branch, letting your feet carry you.

Just because you want him to catch you doesn’t mean you have to make it easy. And…you do want him to catch you, of course, feeling giddy as you dash into the woods, uncaring of the way the tree branches catch you, or the way your too-fussy hairstyle begins to unravel.

All you care about is the heat under your skin, the burning excitement as you hear his curses, as he calls for you, the feeling of anger so akin to the feeling of longing you aren’t even sure what dominates you -

“Got you - !” and his arm shoots out, around your waist before you can even protest, and protest you do, a squeal on your lips as he all but shoves you into the trunk of a tree. “Don’t you dare even move.” And when you meet his eyes, they’re burning, as searing as his grip on your wrists, holding you more than still. 

“Surprised you even noticed I left.” You answer, feeling the heat of his breath, watching the way his chest rises and falls as he pants from exertion. “You seemed content enough just to be petted and praised -” “My God woman, your jealousy will end us both.” Hoseok grits through his teeth, shifting a hand to your neck, then gripping at your bun, more than eager to tear it down, sending your hair cascading. 

Well - as best it can with his grip on it, wound ‘round his palm, as he tugs roughly enough that you whine, head tilting up. “You made me look like a fool.” “You are a fool.” You answer, hoping to goad him into more, and you can see the way his eyes narrow, how his jaw tightens. Now, the anger has shifted, boiling turned to simmer, the heat warming you till you want to melt under his grip, sting turned to honey. “And a dandy.”

“And you are a parrot, all screech and no teeth.” He counters, and God does he paint a portrait - his grip so firm, his black riding coat cut to fit his form like a fine glove. 

Everything about him screams power, the sinews of his lean form as obvious as the way he’s looking at you. Fond and furious. “You made a scene, you shamed us both.” And his face is close now, so close your noses almost touch as he presses you harder against the tree trunk. “People talk.” “Let them talk about how mad I am, then perhaps they’ll stop sending their daughters to pine over you, Hoseok.” You’re prim enough that he laughs, a darkened chuckle. 

That laugh, so airy when in the company he liked to keep, is even better now, dripping from his lips like a threat. It's so rare that he shows himself as he truly is. Not the sun in the sky, but a raging forest fire - the type of brightness that could swallow you whole, incinerate your very being. 

“That is what you want?” And it's the drop of his head against your skin, the graze of his teeth against your jaw. “You want me to show you your place? At the head of the line of pining women, first to throw yourself at me?” “I am your wife - “ but it's cut off, his mouth hot against yours, silencing you, finally. 

“My wife, my ill behaved creature.” He hums. “My jealous, jealous girl.” and he is hiking up your skirts. “Where is your place? If not on my cock.” And that is enough, your hands meeting his as you snatch your skirts higher, legs already parting at his hand sliding up your thighs, meeting your cunt with those damned fingers of his.

HIs fingers slide into you like a sword to a sheath, and you gasp. There is a coldness, a fullness towards the end as you realize he is still wearing his signet ring. If you still your muddled thoughts, and your aching body, you imagine you can almost feel the outline of the crest emblazoned on it.

The ancient crane motif of his family, now your own. 

“I won’t have to do much work.” He is sly, his tone almost teasing in its dryness. “You’re more than ready.” “Then don’t put in the work - spear me already.” You answer, far too heated to even care for his fingers inside of you- delicious though they are .

“You’re no better than a courtesan.” He answers, but his breeches are undone before you can even fathom it.

His cock, glistening, the darkened skin drawing a shudder of ache around the fingers he still has buried inside of you.

“Fuck.” He curses, and now you’re empty, his hand slick with you as he pulls your leg up, as he sinks into you.

No more pretense. Finally. “Fuck, you feel -” And he grunts, tilting your body till your feet are struggling to maintain their footing, till he’s the only thing keeping you up, the bark digging into your back every time he thrusts into you.

“Y-You’re going to rip my dress.” You are clutching at him, your fingers digging into the fine material of his riding jacket. “You - I will have to walk back half naked.” “Good - that is what you deserve for the scene you made, walking back half naked.” He means it too, and there is a piece of you that wishes he’d make due on that promise, and tear your dress down the seam. 

Make it clear to everyone what he had done- how he had gladly taken you. How he’s fucking you, right now, each thrust of his strong hips making you whine and whimper. 

You love it when he fucks you like this, when he is rough, like the tree behind you, making you beg for him, and beg for more. “Don’t you think they can hear you back at the manor?” He asks. “Don’t you feel even an ounce of shame for how loud you are?”

“None.” and you truly ARE shameless in how you call out for him, his name echoing loud enough to frighten even the birds into calling. “You did not marry me for my shame, husband.” And that seems to break the solid sort of scolding he’s been giving you, a sly grin breaking through as his mouth finds yours, almost like he’s trying to stop you from noticing it at all. 

But you let him distract you, let him have you till you’re quaking, trembling in the aftermath of your want for him, till he’s filled you to bursting, a satisfied sound on his lips, satiated with you, with how you took him.

“Perhaps.” and it's said with no small measure of pleasure. “I should take you in the parlor next, in front of those women you despise so much, hm?” 

[burningvelvet]

I've been considering different ideas for historical fiction novels about the Romantics and one of my concepts teeters into the realm of the alternate history subgenre. As a result, I decided to start doing some preliminary research on the history of the subgenre itself. Then I find this...

Of course I've known that there have been a bunch of historical fiction & alternate history novels made about the Romantics throughout time (maybe most famously Henry James' Aspern Papers in 1888). BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR INSPIRING THE WHOLE SUBGENRE!!!

The Romantics/Georgians were so iconic they inspired their fans to invent historical fanfiction over a hundred years ago & we're still writing it... their impact...!!!

But tbf I should have known Byron would be involved somehow because most roads of modern literature often point back to him & his cult of personality — & practically everyone who knew him or was inspired by him ended up writing books about him, whether fiction or nonfiction.

[hussyknee]

The book covers of Regency romance novels are an absolute crime, but in Cecilia Grant's case they're nothing short of absurd. You could maybe excuse some of these half dressed gym bros in breeches cradling heroines either swathed in satin sheets or off-the-rack prom dresses if the contents are some kind escapist erotica in a setting that could pass as the Regency era on a porn set, à la Bridgerton. But when it's something like Grant's Blackshear Family novels, the covers go from ordinary crime to war crime.

Grant's writing is beautiful, very introspective, slightly antiquarian and almost literary. The Blackshear novels are very touching mediations on love and desire and social injustice within the dictates of respectability and vulnerability of the landed gentry, not the aristocracy, travelling everywhere from the tenant homes and farms of country estates to the gambling hells of London to field hospitals crammed with the dead and dying of the Battle of Quatre Bras. The sex scenes are well done, but they're slower burn than a beeswax candle and definitely not the point of the stories at all. They're about how people in history lived and loved.

The covers for the books?

What, I say, the fucketh?

The treatment of this entire genre and its writers by the publishing industry is a study in misogynistic contempt. It doesn't matter whether they're queer or het, or fantasy or mystery or historical or all of them. Anything tarred with the brush of romance and a feminine readership is considered "chic lit" and therefore not worthy of proper editing or halfway respectful or even relevant covers, much less critical recognition.

[fictionalfawning]

I need someone to look at me the way tewksbury looks at Enola while teaching her how to dance.

Also the "I am concerned for you" and "I only have eyes for you" are giving me life

*I know Pride and Prejudice and the Enola Holmes movies aren't in the same era but Tewkesbury and Enola somehow remind me of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth but with reverse personalities

[dandiesindanger]

Today Dandies in Danger celebrates its 5 year anniversary! What started as a game between friends has flourished into the podcast it is today because we decided to take a risk and record our adventures to share with the world.

Playing in a fantasy space together is so genuinely fun. We've enjoyed watching each other grow over the years, both as artists and as individuals. It’s an honor to be able to pass off each arc to the next storyteller and trust that they can capably lead us on a thrilling adventure and continue to add to the rich world of Dandies.

We are very lucky to have found a group of unique individuals whose talents meld together so well. This podcast takes a lot of hard work, and each of us throws our entire self into making sure Dandies is the best it possibly can be. It's a pleasure to have such reliable and understanding friends.

Thank you, dear listeners, for accompanying us on this journey. We hope you will continue to do so till the end. Your support seriously means the world to us!

Art by @chessalbaneze

[salty-stories]

[alt: photo of a garden with a gold silhouette of a woman and the text “Seven Days...”] 

"Then why did you stop replying?"

Something in your old friend's face seems to break and the serious front, ever present even here in private, gives way as her brown eyes, burning--furious, meet yours. "I did. So?"

Sam’s eyes narrow as she ventures a step closer to you, her anger enough to completely silence yours. "Even so? Which sin seems worse to you? Leaving or the silence? Because if its the latter then I have just as much cause to be mad at you, Miss Merritt. For I have the excuse of a dying mother, what caused you to forget me? What stopped your correspondence? Spite? I had always assumed you to be above that."

She steps even closer, so close you might count the flecks of gold in those achingly familiar irises. 

"I missed you, every day. I thought of you every day, wondered if you ate or had a restful sleep or if--if you were thinking of me. I replied when I could but-" the fight fades from her face as Sam pulls away from you with a heavy exhale, "mother got worse before she ever got better and by the time I had enough time to put quill to parchment, you had...you stopped sending them. I figured you were sick of waiting for me by then."

As if under a spell, the sounds of the park, which had been strangely absent up until now, return to a normal volume, drowning out the thumping of your own heart.

Love and Friendship Chapter One Releases 05/01/2023

[inukag-archive]

Hi can you recommend any period drama Inukag fics? I read Rudd’s Sense & Sensibility retelling and I love it! I’m looking for fics with a similar vibe to the Regency/Edwardian era or other period drama types 💕

We heard your calls for period dramas and are here to answer! There aren't too many InuKag fics that are set in this specific time period, but we listed the ones we were able to find below. For more reading material, we included a few options at the end that take place in a historical setting, but are not specifically Regency.

For more historical, royalty, and fantasy fics, check out our recently posted Royalty AUs list, which includes links to our other fic rec lists in this genre.

Enjoy!

[Set in Regency/Victorian/Edwardian Era]

Sense and Sensibility, an Inuyasha Retelling by @ruddcatha & @kalcia (T)

When their father dies, the Higurashi sisters Sango and Kagome suddenly find their fortunes changed overnight. The sisters begin to find their own paths, as one learns to step away from the practical to learn to dream with the help of the dashing Miroku, and the other sees the importance of stability in a world of fancy with the steadfast Inuyasha. An adaptation of the Jane Austen Novel Sense and Sensibility.

--

Higurashiton by @theladymagnolia (M)

Lady Kagome Higurashi’s life appears perfect. Having spent her entire existence preparing for the upcoming social season, she is certain to find a proper match. True love and happiness will undoubtedly follow. Unbeknownst to her, the Duke of Tessaiga is plotting his revenge, and will stop at nothing to ruin Kagome’s perfect world.

--

Stealing Kagome by Isabella Rain (T)

Set in the Victorian Era of London, Kagome Higurashi is engaged to Lord, and friend, Kouga Wolfston. But when she catches the eye of a Prince, she knows her engagement is in trouble. Especially since the Prince has already stolen her heart.

--

Letters on a Train by Emilyblood (T)

Demanded to find a bride by his father, Inuyasha is spending a trip across Victorian Europe with Kagome trying to think of a way to get Kikyou to marry him. Needless to say, Kagome is nonetoo happy, but can she keep how she feels to herself for her friend

--

You, Waiting (series) by @witchygirl99 (G-M)

Your love isn't meant to be. It exists, anyways.

--

Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) by @ssukidesu (T)

Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

--

The Oval Portrait by @ruddcatha & @nartista (T)

A sudden accident causes Inuyasha and his valet to find shelter for the evening during a storm. A portrait captures Inuyasha’s attention: a figure so like his wife. A single journal lays nestled by the portrait, filled with a cautionary tale of love and obsession.

--

[Other Historical Settings]

Folktale by HoneyBee31 (T)

Kagome's life changes in ways that she had only heard about in folktales after she saves her brother from certain death.

--

Freak Attraction by @artistefish (T)

A birthday outing to see a foreign circus turns into a nightmarish mistake when Kagome stumbles upon a circus of a very different nature and meets a sideshow freak with dog ears and a human heart.

--

Monster by @akitokihojo (E)

A murderous demon taints the world with unforgivable crimes, taking out his weakness in secret. Unfortunately for him, it isn't that easy. He thinks he's unstoppable, but his arrogance blinds him to the war blooming before him. Kagome and Inuyasha, both powerful in their own way, and even more so together, step forward to try to put an end to things.

--

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered.  After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

[asha-mage]

Here's a pride month flavor musing for you:

There's something to be said about the fact that even when works of period art are deliberately using a fun house mirror version of history so they can have more modern/progressive sensibilities for either race (Bridgerton) or feminism (Mrs Masiel) they still almost always maintain a period accurate attitude twords homosexuality and queerness.

It's almost like this weird tacit acknowledgement that though we can expect the audience to accept a desegregated British Aristocracy or a 1950s house wife doing stand-up comedy that speaks to modern feminist struggles, we can't expect an audience to accept gay people having happy fulfilling lives and relationships in the same way. Queerness still has this edge of enforced tragedy, secrecy, and shame to it. Of course Shy Baldwin is forced to marry a woman in order to keep his fame and to loose his best friend after nearly being outed. Of course Suzie's one romance is a tragic heartbreak that embittered her to love and left her "happy to be alone". Of course Reynolds and Brimsley must steal moments in secret and ultimately be separated- without even a passing explanation as to why their not together in the "later" timeline. Their is certainly no scene of them reuniting in the same way George and Charlotte get. Reynolds and Brimsley are queer, it's assumed they don't get to be happy and end up together, even as the show lauds the undying and unyielding love of a interracial Queen Charlotte and King George.

I know that it's just a reflection of where our society is and yet....I can't help but wish it was different. I love all these big budget glossy period pieces that look back at our history and ask "what if it had been different? What if we had been kinder and more accepting and less hateful?" and I genuinely do believe that is a question worth asking. I just think it's a question worth asking for everyone.

[tidvis-games]

Want to make your own Bridgerton like gowns? Try our dress up game set in the 1820s!

Even print it out as paper dolls!

[joyfulmagic]

Open Starter — Muse: Alastair — Verse: Bridgerton Open to: anyone

“I must inform you, I’m rather competitive,” Alastair informed his companion, offering a cheeky smile as he walked over to them and offered them a ball. “You try, I can guide you if need be,” he informed them with a slightly warmer smile.

Alastair had finally been accepted by the Court as a legitimate noble, his mother having been a duke’s daughter, and thus nobility in her own right even if his father was a palace guard. His eldest sister had fought for him to enter Society, wanting him to have a chance at a better life than what he’d have being seen as illegitimate.

His sister had been a favorite of the Queen’s when she’d entered Society about five years prior to Alastair coming of age to court a woman. It was why he’d been able to get into the Queen’s court — this importance his sister had in society. Her legitimacy and high rank didn’t hurt either, for she inherited her father’s title as his eldest living child and no sons to compete with.

“This…I much prefer this to the dances,” Alastair confessed with a laugh as he guided his companion in how to throw the ball. “Being outside on a sunny day has something special to it,” he added, it not frequently being of such nice weather.

[bloomfish]

personally I find regency kind of a boring era for historical fiction idk why

[hussyknee]

KJ Charles is an absolute liar, pass it on.

[fictionalfawning]

Enola and Tewksbury giving me Jude and Cardan vibes

The way Tewksbury says "I'm concerned for you" and "I only have eyes for you" is killing me.

How he checked her from toe up after their fight scene.

Enola calling him a nincompoop after admitting her love for him.

Tewksbury fighting back after memories of Enola flash before him.

The banter and insults between them

"You cannot be trusted to take care of yourself"

"I am a man now"

"You're a man when I tell you you're a man"

"And yet you still hold my hand"

"You are always here when I don't want you to be"

"And sometimes here when you do"

[dandiesindanger]

July 7th is the birthday of our dear, tortured poet/doctor, Adrian Edwards! 🍷

◇ Despite his usually gloomy outlook, Adrian has a secret fondness for slapstick and "low comedy". When a comedic performer is truly skilled at their craft, Adrian considers it just as impressive as a ballet. Liam is the only one who knows this little secret.

◇ He has a big sweet tooth and often stole treats from his younger brother as a child. James still brings this up in arguments.

◇ He grew up with a Clumber Spaniel named Poppy: a very mild-mannered dog who let baby Adrian use her as a pillow.

Art by @chessalbaneze

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