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rboooks · 11 months

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Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

#dcxdp crossover #dc x dp crossover #Child Support #Part 2 #John is trying his best #He's fighting off suitors from his son #Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends #He's the oldest in Damian's new team #I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it

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ijustwant2write · 11 months

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Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader

(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’

14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'

15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just extreme fluff!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.

(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."

"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."

"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."

"We have been through this, (Y/N)."

"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"

"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."

They laughed together.

"Simon?"

"Hm?"

"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."

As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.

"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.

"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."

"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."

Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.

Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.

He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."

(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.

As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.

Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.

"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.

"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."

(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."

"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.

Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.

"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.

"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"

He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.

"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."

"And your nephew." Simon added.

(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."

"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.

"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."

Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.

"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.

"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."

As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.

"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."

Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.

"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.

"Thank you, I much appreciate it."

They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.

"How many years has it been?"

"Too many."

"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."

"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."

"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"

"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"

"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."

"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"

"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."

"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."

The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.

Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."

Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?

"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."

"To family." Benedict finished.

"To family." Everyone cheered.

"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.

All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.

However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.

After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.

Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?

"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.

Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.

"Has my brother dazzled you?"

Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"

"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."

He sighed."Was I that obvious?"

"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"

"What?"

"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"

"Daphne-"

"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"

He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.

Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.

"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."

"I know, but it will be fine-"

"No, look!"

Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.

"(Y/N)-"

"Anthony-"

The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.

"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."

"How long will you stay?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"

"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."

Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."

They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.

"My apologies-"

"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."

Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.

"Miss Basset?"

"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"

"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"

"Yes? Why?"

"So that I may call on you in the morning?"

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fan fic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton fan fiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fan fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fan fiction

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dragon-kazansky · 13 days

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms

♡♡♡

Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.

You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.

You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.

"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.

You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.

Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.

The drawing room is quiet.

Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.

Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."

"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.

"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.

You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.

♡♡♡

Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.

Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.

Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.

She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.

While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.

Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.

"Benedict."

The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.

"Mother."

Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.

"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.

Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."

Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"

"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."

That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.

"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."

"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.

"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.

"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.

Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.

One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.

♡♡♡

Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.

Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.

While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.

He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.

Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.

The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.

Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.

You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.

Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.

If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.

You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.

Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.

"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.

You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.

"Hello."

Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.

"Are you well?" He asks.

You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.

"Yes. Quite well, thank you."

Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.

Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.

"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.

"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.

Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.

You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."

"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."

You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.

"Yes."

"How many names did you get on your card?"

"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.

"I was the only one?"

You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.

"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.

"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."

He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.

"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.

"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.

"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."

You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."

"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.

"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.

Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.

"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.

Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.

"Mother. Daphne." He nods.

"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.

Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."

Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.

"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.

You all look at her.

"Mofher." Benedict sighs.

Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."

You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.

"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.

Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.

"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."

Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?

Violet was so looking forward to this.

Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.

Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.

"Nothing, Mama."

She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.

"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.

"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."

"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.

"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."

She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.

You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.

♡♡♡

Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.

"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.

Its addressed to you.

'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.

Lady V.Bridgerton.'

"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.

Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."

"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.

Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.

When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.

He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #female reader #dragon writes #Bridgerton

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am-artist · 1 year

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the superb thing with succession s4e3 is that beyond all the big obvious grief moments there’s all the lived in, mostly physical details that the actors pull out, details that really come from having developed the characters three seasons since s1e2. we have seen them all in so many situations but the way they physically, minutely react to the inevitable is so much. roman diving for connor’s arm and clutching at it several ways before he rapidly retracts, like he was just making sure now dad’s dead con is still there, because we know about fishing now. connor, he of the looney cakes and outsider outbursts and pain, still taking the time to huddle shiv in as he sits mourning his dad at his wedding. kendall and shiv holding hands as they look for con not because they really tried to but because they’re walking so close together their hands tangled, and kendall’s barely voiced “shivvy honey”, neither of which would mean anything to us if we hadn’t seen what ken and shiv struggle to be to each other before (‘i’m asking you to look after me’). roman’s awkward shoulder and face clutch of shiv when she’s on the phone, and then the amount of times (multiple!) shiv has to lead them places this episode while roman uselessly but so genuinely encouragingly touches her back in passing bc that’s the best he can muster. FRANK punching airplane walls but being very gentle when he calls ken “son” and breaks the news for real. even fucking colin standing dazed and lost on the tarmac for .3 seconds. what could any of this have meant to us if logan had died after the pilot? how much meaning does it carry now?

#succession spoilers #succession #succession s4 #shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #connor roy #logan roy #i have soooo much. to say. but the episode has said it all really.!#50 #100 #500

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izzyspussy · 7 months

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Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

#jack facts #ted lasso #hc #i do vague sir but i do not vague at you sir #also yes i do know beard and bumbercatch's first names but i thought this was funnier

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

Unexpected 40

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Numb. All your life, you strived for that state. To not feel a thing. It only took the sacrifice of your independence and body to achieve it.

Your mind is spent, you just can’t care about anything. Not the man suddenly missing, not the baby attached to your tit, and certainly not that dull tugging in your pelvis.

“Dear, are you hungry?” Dottie asks as she appears in the doorway, “little thing must be takin’ it out of ya.”

You grumble. Your stomach clutches but your appetite is almost nonexistent. Everytime you see yourself, everytime you get a glance at your body, you can’t help but cringe. No wonder he’s gone. You were no prize before and now he’s ruined any semblance of attraction.

“You have to eat,” she chides, “‘specially if you’re gonna keep this one well fed.”

She comes to you as you finish feeding. You look down at the baby. You’re still waiting for the light switch to flip on. That magical moment everyone mythologises when you’ll feel that motherly yearning. When all common sense is wiped up by the primal instincts of maternity. You got nothing.

The baby gets no reaction from you. Not disgust, not fear, not love, or joy or anything else they say you should feel.

You hand her over to Dottie. She burps the child and lays her in the rolling bassinet nearby. You lean against the pillows and stare at the room. You refused to stay in the one you shared with Lloyd, instead you took one of the guest beds.

If he ever shows up, you doubt he’ll want anything from you. You can’t offer him anything. The doctor says at least six weeks. If it’s up to you, never.

Dottie leaves you. She tries to get you to do more than grumble and sleep but there’s nothing else you can do. She is Marion’s mother. She hasn’t said a damn thing about him running off and you haven’t seen Harlan since the delivery room. You can’t tell if the are ashamed about their son or merely stuck in an awkward situation.

You close your eyes. This is what you knew would happen. This is what you yelled at Lloyd. And as always, you’re right and he doesn’t fucking listen. For as unpredictable as you believed he was before, you see through him more and more. You know who and what he is.

For a moment, you miss the life you had before. The one you thought was a prison but now you see was freedom. Working nights, coming home, sleeping on your own hours, eating on your own clock, coming and going wherever you liked, even if it wasn’t often. If you could go back, you would.

You would pretend like Colin loved you and just forget about Ally. At least he kept the act up. Your eyes burn and you wiggle your nose.

You will not cry. You are numb. You don’t feel. You don’t want to feel. You don’t even want to be.

💎

“A walk will be nice, dear,” Dottie says as she lays the baby in the stroller.

You sit on the bench near the door. You feel weak and worn. It’s only been two weeks. You have a lifetime left of this. You won’t survive it.

Dottie can’t stay forever. If you were her age, you’d already be off enjoying your retirement. When you are her age, you’ll still be stuck here.

Unless… he decides to throw you out. The kid will be grown by then. You’ll be old and ragged and useless. With any luck, you won’t find out one way or the other.

“The doctor says a slow walk is good. Keeping active will help you recover.”

You nod. You don’t argue. In a way, you are humiliated by her constant doting. More like pestering. She knows you can’t do this alone, just like you do. She does a good job of hiding her anger. If you were her, you’d be livid at your son for pulling this shit.

“Right, well, let’s get going,” she chirps as she opens the door and wheels the stroller through.

You don’t move as she rolls it down to even ground and she kicks the brakes down on the wheels. She comes back in and offers to help you up. You slide to the edge of the bench and grunt as you stand on your own.

You feel her gaze on you and you refuse to meet it. There’s something unsaid. Staying active. You have a lot of weight to take off. Yeah, you know.

You follow her slowly across the entry way and come out into the sunlight. You lean on the railing as you descend after her down the few steps. You keep your head down, shoulders slump, and keep your hand from meeting your stomach out of habit.

She flips the brakes up and she slowly sets off. You do your best to keep up, watching the toes of your speaker. The sun beats down hotly. Summer still blazes hotly. The loose hoodie you wear fills with heat and has you sweating.

She goes through the gate and turns onto the sidewalk. You lean against a pole to catch your breath. She stops patiently, cooing at the baby as you push yourself away. You apologise and press on. It is easier to be outside. It doesn’t feel so stagnant.

Dottie comments on the houses you pass, the pretty flowers, and the trimmed hedges. She likes the neighbourhood. To you, it looks like a circle of hell. You turn back at the end of the street and head back to the house. You’re drained entirely.

“Any ideas for lunch?” Dottie asks.

“Not hungry,” you answer.

“Aw, well, you do have to eat, just like Luna,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” you utter.

You’re startled as your name comes from behind you. Before you can reach the gate, you pause and face the speaker. Andy jogs towards you and stops before the stroller as Dottie turns it with her.

“Uh, hey, I saw you passing by,” he smiles and gives a nervous look at the other woman, “I haven’t seen you around, I just wanted to say hi. I… I didn’t know the baby was here already.”

You stare at him. You see the doubt in his cheek, a small twitch. You can’t just let him see how defeated you are.

“Two weeks,” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice light, “she’s doing well.”

That’s the thing you noticed. Now that the baby is born, people don’t ask how you are. Not until they ask about the baby.

“Wow,” he says, “um, I’m Andy,” he says to Dottie, “I live next door.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she steps around the stroller to shake his hand, “I’m Dottie, the grandmother.”

He looks between you and the older woman. You squint. He doesn’t think…

“Oh, she’s not mine, the daddy is,” Dottie chuckles, “still, she’s a good daughter. Couldn’t be luckier.”

“Mind if I…” he points to the carriage.

“Go on, she’s a cute thing,” Dottie allows, “name’s Luna. Like Moonlight.”

He nears and hunches to see into the stroller. He aws and wiggles his finger at the baby. You watch him. He smiles at the child so easily. Every time you look at her, you just want to cry.

“Great, er, so just wanted to put it out there, if you need anything I’d be happy to help out,” he offers as he retreats to stand across from you, “you know, I’ve done it all before. I probably have some toys and stuff still hanging around.”

“You got kids?” Dottie asks.

“I had one,” Andy’s veneer falls just a little, “he had an accident.”

“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t imagine,” she preens, “you are so kind. I’m sure we could use some company in that big house.”

“Lloyd will be okay with that?”

“He’s away on business,” she dismisses quickly and your muscles tense as you try to conceal your chagrin.

“That’s too bad. How about I come over and make some dinner? Tonight? Tomorrow? Give you two some time to relax.”

“Ah, wow, you are gallant, ain’t ya?” Dottie says, “how about tonight? The weather’s supposed to be fine, we can eat outside.”

“Works for me,” Andy announces triumphantly, “I’ll be over at five, does that work?”

“Sure thing,” Dottie affirms, “now, we should get the little one down, she’s starting to fuss.”

“Of course,” Andy grins and your eyes meet his. You try but can’t muster a smile. “See ya then.”

You nod as Dottie returns the sentiment. You turn and continue towards the gate.

“What a nice man,” she says, “beautiful eyes… oddly familiar, don’t ya think?”

“I guess,” you mutter as you drag your feet.

You really wish she hadn’t accepted the invite. You just want to be alone, or as alone as you can be with a child attached to you.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #unexpected #sequel #series #drabble #au #the gray man

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ofstarsandvibranium · 10 months

Text

Walls Are Crumbling: Part 2

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: You and Benedict announce your engagement to the rest of the Bridgerton family. They're ecstatic for you, as Benedict told you they'd be. But you still can't help but feel guilty for bringing Benedict into your mess.

A/N: oh no. i guess im gonna turn this into a mini series...

Part 1

Everyone in the sitting room cheers after you and Benedict announce your engagement. Anthony and Kate give the pair of you soft smiles and knowing looks. Of course Anthony told his wife. He could never hide anything from her.

"Well, I must say this isn't too much of a surprise," Violet Bridgerton stands from her spot and walks towards you, "We all had a feeling this was going to happen eventually."

You smile at the woman you saw as another mother, "Trust me, Violet, I'm just as surprised as you are."

Benedict gives you a nudge, silently telling you to shush. He then speaks up, "Yes, it seemed that both of us had been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. Didn't see a reason as to why we needed to prolong marriage. Therefore, in month's time, we seek to marry."

Eloise grimaces, "But that's so soon."

Benedict's hand intertwines in yours, "Well, Eloise, I've waited too long to have Y/N as mine, so the sooner we wed, the better."

"But not too soon," you pointedly say, "which is why we decided in month's time," you add, just in case someone else suggests you two marry today, like Anthony did last night.

"Did you tell your mother already, Y/N, dear?" Violet asks curiously.

You nod, "Yes, and it went as you'd expect it to."

The dowager viscountess gives you a tight lip look. She wasn't fond of your mother and how she treats you. She especially doesn't like how she viewed your friendship with Benedict as a waste.

"Second sons have nothing to offer," she's said often.

Kate approaches you, arm looping through yours, "Sorry, brother-in-law, may I steal her for a moment?"

Benedict cocks a brow at you, silently asking if you'll be okay. You nod, "I'll be back," you let go of his hand and follow Kate, whom is guiding you outside of the sitting room and into the hall. There, she asks you to tell her everything, since Anthony only gave her bits and pieces.

While you and the Viscountess talk, Anthony joins his younger brother, "Do you really think you should do this?"

Benedict looks at his brother with annoyance on his face, "If I don't, she'd be left off to her own. I can't let that happen, especially with a child on the way."

"A child that isn't even yours, brother."

He shakes his head and shrugs, "I don't care. I will love them as my own. They are part Y/N, so surely, I'd love them." He then scowls, "Lord Mattias is a coward for this."

"I'd argue that you're just as cowardly," Anthony murmurs, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Marrying the woman you love and yet not even telling her how you feel."

Benedict scoffs, "As if I should be taking advice from you on how to handle love," he cocks a brow at his older brother, knowing the debacle between him, Kate, and Edwina.

Anthony's jaw clenches and he doesn't say another word, which leaves Benedict to chuckle. He pats his brother on the shoulder, "I'll tell her...eventually. Things are going to be chaotic for her already. I don't want to cause her any more stress. It'll be bad for her and the baby."

Anthony hums and walks away from Benedict, deciding to stand beside Colin, whom is sitting on chaise lounge chair.

__________________________

1 Month Later

You managed to have wedding dress made fairly quickly. Well, Lady Danbury definitely put in a good word for you that helped speed up the process. Your wedding, albeit not ideal, was still perfect. Although your words of love to Benedict during the ceremony were....not completely true, you still found yourself tearing up when Benedict repeated his vows to you. You thought marrying your closest friend would be weird, but throughout the duration of the month leading up to the wedding, it became less of that and more comforting.

Time and time again did Benedict reassure he wasn't going to leave you behind for the wolves, that he'd be there for you and for the baby. That you'd be well taken care of.

Post-wedding, the dinner was a bit overwhelming. So many people were congratulating you, echoing the same words everyone else had "We all knew this would happen eventually". But what exactly did that mean? Sure, a few years ago, you harbored feelings for Benedict, but did everyone see it? Benedict couldn't have seen it too, right?

"Y/N?" he squeezes your hand and you didn't even realize he was holding it.

You look up from your plate, "Hm? Sorry."

"Are you alright?"

"I-I think I'd like some air," you whisper back to him.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

You're hesitant to say yes, but your head moves before your mouth does. You're nodding and Benedict is immediately on his feet and excuses the both of you. Everyone watches the two of you exit the dining room, the chatter continues as you leave.

Benedict silently follows you to the tree that has the swings you two used to play on when you were young. once sat on one of the swings, your hand immediately going to your belly. You've been doing that a lot in these past weeks, just not in front of others beside Anthony and Benedict.

"Is something wrong?" he nods to your hand on your belly.

You shake your head, "Not with the baby, no. But I just-" you let out another deep breath, "This is all so much. I-I-" your eyes are tearing up, "I don't like that I've brought you into my mess."

Benedict kneels before you and grabs your hands into his, "Y/N, listen to me, you did not force me to do this. I offered to marry you because I care about you and I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you. You are my dearest friend. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Ever. Do you understand me?" thumbs away your tears as you nod, "Good." He stands up and kisses your head, "Do you want to go back?"

"Can we stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever my wife wants."

"I have to get used to hearing that," you mumble as you start to slowly move yourself back and forth on the swing.

Benedict watches you with soft eyes, eventually moving himself on the swing.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton imagine #fem!reader #f!reader #female reader

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cottagecheese1 · 2 months

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Chapter 2

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new begging's, but what happens when your new begging comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them. paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea.

warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

The day was new, sadly, after last night you didn’t know if leaving your room was a good option in the first place, well of course you’d live, but the embarrassment you felt at the moment made you feel like the world was ending. You always felt a little sensitive and awkward towards every little situation that came your way. When you say it in your head it always sounds like a bad thing even though there are worse things in the world, and you shouldn’t even come close to feeling unfortunate in any situation–or thats what your mother would tell you, at a point your life your mother used to make you feel vain–blaming you for your fathers death saying it was your fault, of course you knew your mother had loved you, I mean she was also going through the grief of losing her husband, you shouldn’t be selfish–thats what she would also tell you.

After a long two hours of laying in bed, you rolled in bed and looked at your alarm clock that read 9:23am, and you could already hear the shuffling and laughter of the boys in the kitchen, deciding to just suffer through it and just hope nobody brings up the previous night, they all probably forgot about it by now, right? You could only hope because you sure haven’t forgotten.

Making your way down the hall where the chuckling and the sizzling of bacon started to make itself more present as you stepped into the kitchen, your head automatically goes down towards the floor when the chatter abruptly stops–the awkward sizzling of bacon mocking you as you walk towards the bread.

Andy stops and turns toward you with a small smile while leaning on the marble countertop, finally deciding to break the silence, “good morning honey, I made breakfast if you’re interested, bacon and uh maybe some pancakes if Johnny will save some for the rest of us.” he says the last part while turning towards a shirtless johnny stuffing his mouth full, mumbling out a “sorry”.

You tilt your head up toward Andy, and grab the bread, “no thanks Andy, maybe later–thanks though–well not that I don’t want any it's just-” you stutter out, until Andy interrupts you with a soft chuckle.

Andy walks behind you–tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before he leaned down to press a small kiss to your temple, “Oh pumpkin, what am I gonna do with you hm? With your cute self.” your cheeks tinted red, and besides that you could hear Johnny, and Colin snickering–probably making fun of you.

Not really knowing how to respond, but suddenly another thought comes to mind–where's your mother? Now curious, you turned and asked Andy, face still red as a beet, “um- where's my mom?” Andy half listens to you as he plays with your hair softly.

“She’s on a business trip, won’t be back for a few weeks, so you get to spend some alone time with us.” Andy says as he smirks.

You advert your gaze back to the toaster and give him a quick “okay”, before turning back around he huffs dramatically grabbing his keys swiftly, but before he heads out, he stops before the two chuckling boys.

“You boys be nice, treat her good until I get home, okay? Oh honey, if you need anything just give me a call, okay? Johnny should help you with anything, if not, I’ll be back around 11:00. Be good you two.”, and at that Andy was out the door, now it’s just you and them.

Johnny sighed and got up dramatically, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you kids have fun.” he said as he walked toward his bedroom.

Now it was just Colin and you, but as soon as you heard the toaster pop up, you scurried to your room–not even bothering to grab the butter–once you got to your room, closing the door you sighed and switched your phone on for the next hour.

💼

After another 30 minutes of contemplating if you should leave your room or not, you do. Opening the door slowly, and walking down the hall to the living room, where you thought watching TV would be an option for you, but Colin seemed to be taking up the couch and the entire atmosphere, and God was it intimidating.

Before you could turn away, and advance to the comfort of your own room–Colin stopped you abruptly. He threw his head back over the back of the couch, and called your name out.

“Hey!- don’t leave, come join me, I’m watching 21 jump street, I want you to come watch it with me.”

He sounded so demanding, but maybe that's just his way of expressing himself, so you watch as he scoots over a tad, and pats the spot next to him. This is when you seem to notice he doesn’t have a shirt on under his thin jacket, but you still sit down awkwardly next to him.

Suddenly he scoots closer to you, and wraps an arm around you, pulling you to him slightly as he says “relax baby, just getting comfortable, you wanna lay on me?”

“Oh, well I’m ok right now, I wouldn’t wanna-” he cuts you off by his own words, “cmon baby, I don’t mind, it's just some friendly cuddles, don’t gotta be all shy about it.” he says the last part chuckling.

You stay silent as he speaks again, “Here–I’ll help you.” Coin grunts a bit as he pulls you on top of him, and pushes your head onto his chest, softly stroking your hair. As much as you’d hate to admit it, it did feel kind of nice, maybe because he was nice and warm, and solid–Colin interrupts your train of thought when he speaks again.

“Isn’t this nice baby? All nice and relaxed…You're such a good girl, you know that?” he says with a mischievous glint in his voice while stroking your back, his voice still vibrating off of you he continues, “So, so quiet. Bet you're a virgin huh? All pure and untouched, from the way you're grinding on my dick and acting all innocent about it, you have to be.”

You feel stiff all the sudden, like you can’t move, now you're overly aware of the fact that his dick is poking your thigh. Then to make things worse he leans down toward your ear, “You know me, and Johnny talked about fucking you last night? Or how adorable you would look trying to wrap your lips around our cocks–and the tears that would run down that pretty face as we both fucked you till you couldn’t walk–or talk–bet you're a cock drunk bitch when you have the chance, huh?”

This is when you really started to freak out, trying to shove away from him eagerly, “Stop! Get off me! Andy will come back any time.”, and Colin just laughed at your plea, which made you slightly confused.

“Oh Baby, you poor girl, Andy’s the worst of both of us, if you knew all the dirty shit he’s said about you, you’d be crying–or well you already are–your new daddy just wants to pound you into his mattress until you're crying honey, and so much more.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, that couldn’t be, Andy cared about you..right? The thoughts that ran a million miles in your head suddenly got interrupted by another presence entering the room. Johnny.

Crying out for him as Colin licked and sucked on your neck, making you whimper pathetically in the process, “Johnny, please get him off of me..” you said pleadingly.

Johnny stared at you mockingly as he bent down to your level, where you still laid beneath Colin helplessly. He stroked the side of your face teasingly before he said, “Now why would I do that hm? Not when you’re whimpering so sweetly baby.” Colin then let up off you, leaning back into the couch, pulling you into his lap in the process as you felt your thighs subconsciously rub together.

After Johnny made his way beside you and Colin–sandwiching yourself between them as result, he stroked your thigh up and down, slowly making his way to your clothed core, “Look how fucking red you are, just from some teasing hm? you wanna feel me sweetheart? Don’t even try to hide how wet you are–bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.”

You had to be slightly surprised at his forwardness, no you haven’t had your first kiss yet, but you just told yourself that you're waiting for the right person. Colin chuckled at Johnny’s antics, this is also when you noticed that Johnny was not wearing a shirt–or pants for a matter of fact, this realization made you feel hotter all over.

Colin leaned over and looked at Johnny, “You know the old man won’t like it if we take her first kiss without him being here."

Johnny rolled his eyes and scoffed, still stroking your thighs, “Fuck that old geezer, I'm taking what's min-” Johnny got cut off by a loud slam of a door and jingling of car keys jingling. You three looked over toward the door to see Andy in the doorway, his arms crossed intimidatingly.

“what's going on here fellas..trying to break her in without me?” Andy said with a smirk as he reached the end of his sentence. He walked over to you slowly, and took your small face into both of his large hands, “And what about you honey? Having fun without daddy, hm? Good thing I’m here now.” He ends the last of his words with a chuckle.

Pleading for help wouldn’t even save you right now, after what Johnny and Colin just confessed to you–especially Andy–all you can do is hope for the best.

A/n: sorry for the short late chapter ya'll (I edited it at the end because the order was fucked up for those who were as confused as me.)

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paracosmic-murdock · 10 months

Text

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 4: "Les mots de Whistledown"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: While the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. You learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. However, there were some things that not even the Duke of Burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to London for a while and go to the Royal Academy of Art.

Nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. You had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. But again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? Especially when a man like Benedict Bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, love triangles (but not really), lgbtq+ themes, bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: After enough days hiding in plain view, your arrival in London gets announced by Lady Whistledown. Its consequences—dozens of suitors— wrecked your plans for the day, but the dinner at the Bridgerton home wasn't one of those, but unfortunately, there is one Bridgerton brother you are still yet to meet.

Word count: 3.7K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

Dearest gentle reader,

It is this author's duty to keep you informed of the most important news, and it mortified me to not have a positive thing to notify you of in recent times. However, it has come to my attention that there is a charmant new arrival in town.

Walls have ears, doors have eyes, trees have voices, and so do I, and we all have gathered here to tell you, dear reader, that the distinguished Lady Y/N of Burgundy, daughter of the late Duke of Burgundy, took a trip from France to delight us with her presence.

That takes us, dear reader, to our next topic of conversation in this issue, a matter most must be pondering about. Surely, there is a reason for her to be in London, and do not think for a second your beloved author will leave you in the dark any longer: she is looking for a husband!

By now, you are sure I cannot grant you incomplete information here, so I must let you know that Lady Y/N is nothing but grace, elegance, kindness and virtue in the flesh. If she had arrived at the beginning of the Season, and we could count on Her Majesty's judgment to be correct, she would have been named the Queen's diamond.

Now, I plead the gentlemen of the Ton not to get eager, for there are certain requirements you must possess in order to even consider courting her: heart, wealth, face, and brains!

If you are a respectable gentleman and consider yourself not only in possession of those requirements, but also worthy of her, do not hesitate to pay Lady Y/N a visit at the Carrington Mansion.

And a little help: it seems like she is quite the emerald enthusiast.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Whistledown.

"Mama! Your dearest Lady Y/N is on today's issue of Lady Whistledown!" Eloise yelled after reading the paper.

Violet Bridgerton frowned. "Is she really?"

Eloise nodded eagerly, starting to read the article out loud to her mother and some of her siblings that were in the room.

"Is she to be a duchess, then?" Hyacinth asked.

"That is not how it works, Sister." Anthony said.

"Is she pretty?" Colin questioned.

"Oh, she is." Benedict answered to Colin with a smirk.

"You know her?" Eloise looked at her brother wide-eyed.

"The director of the Academy, Lord Carrington, is her godfather. I even painted her portrait the day before yesterday," he explained. "How do you know her?"

"Her father was friends of your father and I," Violet replied. "I reunited with her at Lady Danbury's first, but yesterday, Eloise and I were at the Modiste and saw her again."

Benedict smiled and stood up with a groan, hoping that maybe you would go to the Academy today for whatever reason. "I am off to the Academy!"

Lady Bridgerton shook her head at her son. "If you or your brother try to get close to her, let me warn you that you shall only do so if you have the best of intentions."

"Did you know she was the one to send those cufflinks you're wearing, Brother?" Eloise questioned, looking at him attentively as he admired the precious emeralds adorning the cuffs of his shirt. Even after so many years, he still wore them from time to time.

"Oh, is she also the one who sent us wine a couple years ago?"

"Yes, it was her," His mother gave him a quick glance. "You should know that the wine came with a heartfelt letter thanking me for the condolences I sent for her father's death, so you must not mention that to her during dinner tonight."

"Is she coming tonight?!"

"Yes, Sister, my mother invited her for dinner," Eloise told Hyacinth. "Although, I fear she might not come when she hears that both Colin and Benedict have their intentions set on courting her."

"Benedict is not going to court her," Colin stated, ignoring where his brother was the past afternoon. "And I cannot conceive the idea of her ignoring me! I've got the heart, the wealth, the brains and the hair!"

"Heart, wealth, face and brains." Eloise corrected him.

"The great hair is surely a bonus point in my favor, is it not?"

Hyacinth laughed. "You don't even know her!"

"I have heard enough." He smiled.

"What could Lady Whistledown even know anyway? Y/N arrived just a few days ago, and for Whistledown to say such amazing things about her, it would mean they have known each other for a while or simply Y/N did something nice for Whistledown, doesn't it?" Eloise theorized. She gave it a thought in silence and then ran to her room.

"She is everything Lady Whistledown says," Lady Bridgerton commented, giving Colin a serious look. "She is also self-righteous, obedient, honest, and service-oriented. She would make such a lovely wife… But as I just said, if you do not have the best intentions, Colin Bridgerton, don't you dare get near her."

"You are taking all the fun out of it, now I think I do not want her anymore."

"Good."

Hyacinth looked at the scene in amusement, returning to the pianoforte.

You woke up to Antoinette's insistence. "Antoinette! Is it not too early for you to wake me up so violently?"

"You are in the newest issue of Lady Whistledown!"

"Who on Earth is that?" you questioned with a frown.

"It is a gossip newspaper here in London, you must read it!"

"Does it have to do with Antoine?"

"Thanks to the Heavens, it does not."

"Then, I couldn't care less. I have a few minutes of sleep left until I have to go to the Academy."

Antoinette sighed. "I am afraid you won't be able to attend the Academy today."

"What?" You wrinkled your nose. "Why not?!"

"Because there is a long line of suitors waiting just for you, my Lady."

You sat up immediately and took the newspaper in Antoinette's hands, reading it all in less than a minute.

"Mon Dieu !" you groaned. "How many men are waiting for me?"

"At least four dozens." A tired exhalation indicated just your mood as you stood up and got changed with the help of Antoinette.

Once you were ready, you went downstairs to meet with quite the entourage of gentlemen. The staff of the mansion were running here and there, trying to accommodate everyone as best as they could.

"At least one of these must be interesting enough to marry."

You laughed. "Everyone younger than me or old must be sent away. The same applies if the man seems slow or a shag-bag, I am not going to tolerate that. Other than that, let the games begin," you instructed, letting your pettiness get the best of you. "This must be fun!"

"Anything you say."

"If any of them is Lord Walker or Mr. Schwartz, let them in," you said. "Madame Delacroix recommended them. Oh, you remember about Benedict, do you not?"

"I do, he was here yesterday."

You smiled at the memory. "If he is here, make him come first."

Antoinette tried not to laugh as she nodded, and soon enough, you were sitting in front of the third gentleman Lady Carrington had sent your way. Antoinette was your escort and some of the staff.

"Was the 'heart, wealth, face, and brains' your line?" he asked, making you chuckle.

"I did not say that, though it is not like those are four qualities I don't search for in a man. Especially the heart and the brains."

"Uh, oui, mon copain doit parler français car je viens de France," you explained to him that your husband must speak French because you are French. "And you do."

Lord Weber smiled. "Parler français est une condition nécessaire, aussi ?"

[Is speaking French a requirement also?]

"Are you looking to marry anytime soon?"

He chuckled. "Do you not want to marry?"

"I was exposed by your clownesque gossip writer, so I must say yes."

"I do, but not as soon as that woman said. She made me look desperate, did she not?"

"Just a little."

"I only ever wanted to make my debut during the Carrington ball and see what happens," You shrugged. "At least I know that the men Lady Carrington threw out will not come back."

She did all of us a favor, did she not?"

"She did," You curved your lips. "So, tell me about your family: do you have brothers or sisters?"

"A younger brother and an older sister. My father passed away a few years ago, and my mother lives in the country," he replied. "We have a manor in the outskirts of town, actually. Maybe you and the Carringtons could come and stay with my family for the annual Weber Masquerade Ball if you wish."

"Oh, when is it going to be held?"

"The last weekend of the next month, my Lady."

"I shall speak to the Carringtons about it and give you an answer, then, my Lord."

He gave you a charming smirk. "Would you be interested in walking along the promenade with me this afternoon?"

"I'm afraid I already have plans for the afternoon, Lord Weber, but perhaps we could arrange it for another day." you said, wishing for him to not invite you anywhere if it was time for you to be at the Academy.

"Tomorrow afternoon sounds good?"

You nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."

Lord Weber stood up and offered you his hand to help you stand up. You took it and once you were both standing in front of one another, he kissed your knuckles.

"Would you forgive me if I said to everyone that you are an insufferable young lady? All is fair in love and war, or so I've heard."

"I would be very offended and disappointed that you didn't stand a chance against some men who do not even speak French, my Lord."

He winked. "You're right. See you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes."

When he disappeared, you threw yourself on the couch.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be," you complained. "I am tired of them, are there many more?"

"Around ten."

You groaned. "They are always inviting me to do something and I am obliged to say yes! What if I am busy doing something actually important? They are inviting me to go for walks and do stuff when I should be in…"

Your face shone with enlightenment when the idea crossed your mind, and a loud, excited shriek echoed in the entire room.

"Every cloud has a silver lining!" You hugged Antoinette, who laughed as she tried to push you away. "Bring them all in!"

"Did you tell your sister you're going out tonight?" Cortez asked you. You gave him a condescending look.

"I am invited to go to dinner tonight at someone's family, I have no idea where, to be honest. So, right after dinner, I'll go to White's."

"Yes!" he cheered. "But don't you be too late."

"I will not promise you a thing, Santiago," you replied. "That I am going must be more than enough for you."

"We will be drowning that hostility in whiskey, Antoine!"

"I am more of a wine person, you know?"

"Oh, let's get this man back to his homeland!" he yelled. "Not at White's tonight, by the way. It will be a private party at the Cortez Manor."

"Sure, see you there." You got inside your carriage with a big smile. "We should get going to the Carrington Mansion so I can get ready to go to the Bridgertons for dinner and then I'm going to the Cortez Manor for a private party!"

"You are doing what?!" Antoinette questioned, altered. "It has been a very long, hard day, my Lady. Go back to the Carrington Mansion after dinner, listen to me."

"I already promised Santiago I would go. Antoine Voclain is a man of his word."

"Antoine Voclain doesn't exist, my Lady, please stop this before it gets out of hand!" she pleaded. "We can still say he passed away and you will not get in any trouble."

"I will not get in any trouble, Antoinette," you told her, taking your clothes off. "And I'm not going to stay in Art School my entire life, just for some time until… I don't know, until I find out who I am."

She sighed. "You are Y/N Voclain, the future duchess of Burgundy. You are a respectable Lady, you are intelligent, talented… You are going to make an excellent wife, mother to many children, and you are going to marry a man who can see that. You will bring so much pride and honor to your father to watch from the Heavens."

"Look at me," you demanded. "I am taking off the clothes that I stole from my cousin, I just finished another day at a school I am not allowed to attend, I am on my way to the home of a family who received me with open arms and open doors, the same family I lie to every single day. I am sitting in this carriage I stole from home, with the maid and the drivers I forced to travel for two days to a strange city with me. I should be looking for a husband, but instead, I wear jewels a second and a hat the other. Most ladies are only allowed to have makeup and ball gowns, but I have all of that plus a library of all the books I have read and the poems I have written, I have a bow and arrows, I fence, I travel, I paint, I do the numbers, I speak, and that is not who a respectable lady is supposed to be! I hate to think that I was born to be a wife and a mother while my father raised me to be more than that… Once I realize who that person is, I will return to France. Not a second before."

Antoinette felt silent while you wiped the tears you didn't notice had run down your face. You arrived at the mansion but didn't leave the carriage until you were ready.

"My, my, where have you been?" Lady Carrington asked as soon as you were in front of her.

"I went out for a walk with Antoinette," you mumbled. "I asked your maid to please tell you."

"She did, but you must let me know when you are going out, you're a lady!"

You nodded. "I understand, Lady Carrington. My apologies."

"It is okay, dear," She exhaled. "Are you going to the Bridgertons'?"

"Yes, I will get ready first."

"If Lady Bridgerton invites you to stay a little longer for some tea, stay. I know you must be tired for such a hectic morning full of suitors and the promenade in the afternoon, but it would be rude not to."

"I will, Lady Carrington."

"It is a pleasure to finally have met you all," You smiled. "Though, I was informed that there were eight of you."

"Our brother had a… matter to attend to," Anthony informed. "But he sends his apologies for not being here."

"Very well," You nodded. "I am looking forward to seeing him later."

"So is he." Gregory mentioned under everyone's apprehensive glance, and his sister Hyacinth jostled him.

You ignored it with a small smile.

"Shall we start?" Lady Bridgerton asked.

"Yes! I am starving." you agreed.

Most of the siblings thanked you.

"How has been your time here in London, Lady Y/N?" Colin asked.

"It has been great! I have met a lot of nice people, thanks to that I could see your mother again," you replied, muttering a thank you to the maid who served your food. "Everything was perfect until that absurd Lady Whistledown exposed my arrival to absolutely everyone, and had the Carrington Mansion full of gentlemen."

"No one caught your attention?"

You chuckled. "It's not that. Lady Carrington filtered all the men for me. I suppose that knowing everything about everyone is convenient from time to time. Lady Whistledown made me look desperate, did she not? It was humiliating to some extent."

"That is what I thought, too," Eloise said. "To anyone it could be flattering, right? But she described you like a trophy to get!"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed. "I thought I could make the most out of it, but I am a little offended that she made me look like nothing but a lovely bride."

Eloise smiled widely, but before she could say anything, her mother interrupted her. "Was there any suitor interesting, my dear?"

"One or two," you confessed. "I am afraid they will lose their interest in me once they find out I would rather be visiting my mother's family in the Americas instead of attending balls like a trophy."

"Have you been to the Americas?" Colin asked with wide eyes.

"Yes! My mother is from there, and her family owns the biggest emerald mines," you replied. "I wish to return soon, but I have never traveled such distances alone. After my father's death, I am afraid my voyages will have to wait until I marry."

"You travel a lot?" Anthony asked.

"I used to with my father… ever the explorer," You took a sip of your drink. "I would go with him whenever and wherever he went, so I have been to many places."

"I was traveling, too, a couple of months ago. My favorite stop was the Greek Islands." The rest of the Bridgertons groaned at Colin's intervention.

"I have been to Greece also. My father wanted paintings of the Greek Ancient Ruins in Athens and Epidaurus," you commented. "Although I would not change the Kingdom of Tahiti for anywhere in the world, it is certainly the most glorious land I have set foot in."

"Y/N, Colin will never shut up if you keep feeding him with information about travels."

"Eloise!" Lady Bridgerton scolded her.

You laughed. "It is not a problem, if you wish I will stop talking."

"Do not listen to her," Colin asked you with a grin. "Did your father get the paintings?"

"He did indeed, I painted them." you answered, and Eloise and Anthony looked at each other with knowing eyes.

"It is such a shame that our brother is not here, he would adore you." Eloise commented, making you look at her in confusion.

"He will regret not being here, certainly," Daphne smirked. "I hope you see each other at the Carrington ball."

Colin shook his head. "Please, ignore them."

You frowned. "Uh… the food is incredible, Lady Bridgerton."

"I am glad you like it, dear." She sighed in relief. "Did you like the wine?"

"I did," You nodded. "Which reminds me, did you like the wine I had sent to you the last time?"

"We all did," Lady Bridgerton answered. "Actually, Colin was telling me how much he had enjoyed it earlier today."

"That is good to hear!" you exclaimed happily. "It comes from our winery."

"It was one of the best wines I have ever had." Anthony added.

You smiled. "Thank you very much, my Lord. I will make sure to send a letter and have some bottles sent to you directly from Burgundy."

"We will be looking forward to it," Anthony said. "And please, call me Anthony."

"However you please, Anthony. Please, call me Y/N, too."

"And how is Burgundy, Y/N?" Francesca asked you.

"It is a wonderful region, dear Francesca," you told her. "And all of you are more than welcome at the Château de Germolles, the Château du Clos de Vougeot, or the Palace of the Dukes."

"Thank you, dear, we will take it into consideration. Perhaps for vacations." Lady Bridgerton answered.

"I hope it doesn't stay in consideration and I get to have you. All of you are welcome, there is more than enough space for all the Bridgertons. I am sure you would adore the Palace... it is enormous, there is art everywhere, the most precious gardens for you to explore."

"We must tell Benedict everything, he will be so mad to have missed her!" Eloise whispered to Anthony, and they both chuckled.

"I would love to!" Hyacinth nodded eagerly.

"Then I will be expecting you. Your presence would be a treasure to have in my homeland." You winked.

The rest of the dinner was great. Daphne talked about her husband and child, and invited you to Hastings whenever you wanted to. There was some teasing at Anthony when you mentioned, accidentally, that you had met the Sharmas at Lady Danbury's, and somehow Colin managed to find a way to mention his travels again.

After the dessert, you said goodbye to everyone and returned to your carriage.

"Now, we shall go to the Cortez Manor." you told Antoinette, who told the drivers. Once the carriage started moving, you started getting changed.

"You cannot tell Benedict about everything that she said!"

Eloise laughed. "They have already met, Colin."

"Oh, they would make the perfect match, would they not?" Hyacinth commented.

"I hear wedding bells." Francesca added with a smile.

"This counts as treason." Colin shook his head, making his siblings laugh.

"Colin, Y/N does not have a father to look after her, so I feel personally responsible for her now that she is here in London. If you do not have good intentions, I beg you to stay away from her."

"Why do you not have faith in me?"

Daphne laughed. "You have said more than enough times that you do not wish to marry, so forgive Mama for doubting you."

"So has Benedict!"

"While it is fairly obvious that she is too good for our brother, and this is coming from someone who is deeply against marriage, me, you have to admit that they have enough in common to make a good couple," Eloise told Colin. "And I would only support her getting married because that is what she wishes for."

Her mother looked at her surprised. "I hope you do not brainwash her into not wanting to marry, Eloise."

"Do you think she would have been named the Queen's diamond had she arrived earlier?" Hyacinth wondered.

"She surely would have." Colin replied.

"Then she would be engaged to Anthony." Eloise joked.

"I would have proposed, just so you know, Colin." Anthony mocked his brother. "We would be with child right now."

"Anthony!" his mother chided.

"Y/N would not marry Anthony if she knew Benedict… Being engaged to the wrong brother sounds awful, does it not?" Daphne gave Anthony a look, making him roll his eyes.

"Then it is good no one is engaged to a wrong sibling." Anthony cut the conversation, leaving the dining room.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

The Boy in the Window ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy, after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realises that he is in fact very real, rather hungry and quite cold and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Note: Lets meet Charlie, shall we? I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Requested: no

Wordcount: 4729

Part 1

[Prologue]

Well, (Y/N) realised, he was certainly real.

Very real in fact- and currently staring up at her with wide, bright blue eyes, made even brighter by the blue jumper he wore over a white shirt.

His hair was as pale as the summer sun, but both their cheeks were rosy from the cold. Unlike Emma he wore no coat and no hat, and so a few stray snowflakes were melting in his hair.

“That’s my Mummy!”, Emma told the boy. They seemed to be about of an age, her just a little bit taller than him but that said nothing, not when they were still so little.

“Hello.”, he said shyly, stretching out his hand.

(Y/N) was still holding the bowl of soup and quickly set it down before turning back to the new arrival.

“What are you doing here?”

Her own voice sounding uncommonly breathless, as if she had been the one running around in the snow, while she crouched down in front of him.

“Emma said I could come for lunch with you…may I?”, he asked, glancing back to Emma for confirmation.

“Please, Mummy!”

(Y/N) only huffed and leaned against the counter.

“Well, you’re here now.”, was all she managed to say. As her mins tried to process the developments, her body went into autopilot, pouring drink and serving soup and smearing butter on bread.

Emma ate well, but he ate so quickly, he had finished his second bowl before she had finished her first. (Y/N)s own spoon didn’t touch her mouth.

He was all wrong - the way he spoke, the way he was dressed, as if he stepped out of a story book page and into her kitchen. As if Colin Craven’s lively cousin had decided to step from the pages of The Secret Garden and chose to spend Christmas Day with them.

“Is there dessert?”, he asked cautiously.

“Dessert?”, (Y/N) repeated.

How many children in Birmingham asked for dessert? Or even know the meaning of the word?

“I don’t think so, but we have some biscuits. Would you like some?”

He nodded eagerly.

Clearing the plates and the bowl of soup away, (Y/N) went to fetch some from the biscuit tin.

“And I got chocolates from Father Christmas!”, Emma announced.

“Chocolates?”, the boy asked. “Father Christmas didn’t get me any!”

Emma’s head shot over to where her mother was watching from a safe distance.

“Don’t worry, Mummy. You were right. Father Christmas didn’t forget Charlie- he just got toys and no sweets."

Emma reached over and handed the boy - Charlie - a piece of chocolate, which he gladly accepted.

“Charlie?”, (Y/N) said cautiously, sitting down on the chair next to the boy.

She made sure not to let her thundering heart affect her voice. The last thing she wanted was to frighten the boy.

“Emma said you were in that house over there - is that right?”

He nodded, still chewing on the chocolate.

“Well, how did you get there? Do you know?”

At once his eyes fell as his hands dropped into his lap. His fingers coiled into the fabric of his short trousers, which like everything about him, screamed that he did not belong here, in this place, let alone in this weather.

“Dad said we had to go.”, he mumbled, his voice so soft, (Y/N) had to lean in closer to hear. “Didn’t say where and I fell asleep in the car. Then he said that that’s our home now but we can go back in a bit.”

His fingers twisted the dark corduroy of his shorts.

“How long is a bit?”, he asked, looking up at her with glassy eyes.

It made her heart clench in her chest. She was never good when children got sad, and he asked her with such desperation, she yearned to make his pain go away.

So she crouched down in front of him and placed her hand on his knee.

“I don’t know, darling.”, she said truthfully.

The first tears began to spill, but he did not start to sob, instead he just wept silently, sniffling.

“Oh no, no need for that!”, she assured him. But he had mentioned his father and that was something.

“Where’s your father now?”, she asked.

“I-I don’t know…”, he admitted, his voice growing ever higher as the tears kept coming. “I don’t know where anyone is…I called for Frances but she didn’t come. She normally always comes!”

The tears coated his cheeks now, and his nose began to drip, as he struggled for air.

“Where is she? Where is everyone?”

He threw himself forward, burying his face in his arms as he began to sob out right now.

“Mummy!”, Emma gasped in shock, pushing herself back in her chair.

(Y/N) shared her daughter’s sentiment and rushed to lift the boy up in her arms.

He was heavier than Emma, but still not too heavy for her to carry.

As soon as he felt her touch, arms wrapped around her, his hands coiling deeply into the fabric of her dress while he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

With one arm she held him up, the other rubbing circles on his back.

For a while the cries got louder, turning into desperate wails, but she began to sway back and forth.

Slowly but surely, the hums of Emma’s favourite lullaby got through, turning the sobs back to sniffles.

Still, he clung to her like a drowning man to a log.

“I don’t know who Frances is, my darling.”, she admitted, stroking over the back of his head. “Is she your sister?”

He shook his head against her shoulder.

Slowly, he lifted it to look at her. His cheeks were stained from tears and his eyes red from crying.

“Emma?”, she asked. “Has he told you who Frances is?”

Her daughter shook her head. She had taken refuge behind her chair, clutching its back and watching from a safe distance.

“Charlie, you have to help us a little bit. Who is Frances?”, she asked, running her fingers through his hair.

“She takes care of me and of Dad when he’s there and of the house and she tells all the maids what to do.”

His voice was muffled against her shoulder, but she heard it just fine and it made her feel like someone had doused her in ice cold water.

“You have maids?”, Emma gasped, daring to come closer, now that her curiosity had been sparked. “Like in a fairy palace?”

So she had picked up on it too.

(Y/N) sat down and placed the boy on her lap. It wasn’t easy to pry him away from her shoulder, but when she didn’t fight as he clung to the front part of her dress, he tolerated it. Still, he glanced down at her and pouted, his lips quivering.

“And you had to leave in the middle of the night?”

He gave a single nod.

Oh no.

“To wake up here?”

He nodded again.

Taking a sharp breath, she leaned back in her chair and glared out at the building across the narrow space.

She had never been a bother and so the Blinders had left her in peace. But that didn’t mean she did not know. After all, she had lived in this house before, years ago, before she had found and lost a husband, back when there were no whispers of cuttings and shootings and worse.

In a way, these memories made them less scary to her than to those for whom they represented nothing but shadows and creatures of the dark, but at the same time (Y/N) Hale wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that a few childhood encounters was enough to keep her or Emma safe from their wrath and violence.

But this was too much. Taking a child, for whatever scheme or plot was just plain evil.

Her first reaction, the normal reaction, was to call the police, but that wouldn’t do. The police here were as much in the Blinder’s pockets as the men at the corner’s were, and all those in the factories, and at the docks.

No police. Not here. She’d have to get away for that.

“Where do you live, Charlie?”, she asked, stroking his hair out of his face.

“In my house.”

“Do you know the city?”, she wanted to know, keeping her voice as lighthearted as possible. It wouldn’t do to worry the children.

“Not in a city.”

“A village?”, she suggested.

He shook his head once more.

“Just our house.”

Must be a big house then, she thought, only confirming her suspicion.

“It’s red and it’s got big stables.”

“Does it now?”, (Y/N) asked, realising she wouldn’t get further with it.

Children went missing every day, but children dressed like that had people looking for them.

If she caught a train to London, she could ensure his safety. Of course, the Shelbys’ there had offices and factories and docks too, and probably their contacts in the police as well. But the disappearances of a boy like this - that would be too big for the Peaky Blinders to conceal in London.

Yes, London it was, and as quickly as possible.

So she decided to try a different tactic.

“What are your parents called?”

“Dad.”, he mumbled, coiling the fabric of her dress the same way he had done with his trousers earlier.

“That’s what you call him.”, she told him, tapping the tip of his nose.

“See, Emma calls me Mummy, but when I go to the shops, they call me Mrs. Hale because my name is (Y/N) Hale.”

That seemed to make sense to Charlie. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

“Frances calls my Dad Mr. Shelby. But Lizzie calls him Tommy.”

For the second time that day, (Y/N) felt her stomach drop, only this time it was accompanied by an icy chill.

"What do we do now, Mummy?", She asked.

That was the question, wasn't it?

So the boy wasn't some piece in one of the many Blinder's schemes, not the collateral to some Lordling's debts, or to sway some minister's hand. That was a relief at least because no one, least alone a child, deserved to be dragged into their world.

But in a way it was his world, or his father's world at least.

God help us.

Not a kidnapping at least, but that still didn't explain why she would have Tommy Shelby's son of all people in her kitchen. Nor what she was to do now.

It made no sense at all.

He had gotten out- had gotten richer than the King, and nearly as powerful too, with a large house, and maids and servants.

When he occasionally returned to Birmingham, he came in a Bently, and entered his multi-story modern office with the shining brass door knobs and uniformed valets. He had business in London and in Liverpool and in America and probably on the moon for all she knew. He had even received an honour from the King- that had sent the tongues wagging from here all the way to Greet, the same man whose likeness he had set ablaze all these years ago.

But it had gotten quiet since then.

There were still occasional beatings and smashed windows but no more fighting. After all, there was no one left to fight the Peaky Blinders.

So why on earth would he return now, and bring his son with him?

Perhaps to show him his roots, but that didn't make sense. News travelled fast and when almost three years ago, people whispered that Tommy Shelby had gone mad and had killed his entire family, fear had spread. In the end, they hadn't been killed, but arrested only to be released half a year later. But the rumours were they already had the ropes around their neck and had to beg Tommy on their knees for their lives. Some said they even had to kiss his feet, but (Y/N) thought that was a little far fetched. They never returned to Small Heath- forced out of the company so that King Thomas could rule alone. That was what Mrs. Sloan said. If they ever stepped foot in Birmingham again, he'd kill them himself, was what Mrs. Davies from the shops had heard.

And she doubted he got homesick. He always was the one who wanted to get away, even as a boy vanishing for weeks at a time and leaving his family, mostly Ada, in a state.

Once he almost hadn’t come back at all, she remembered.

That still did not explain why he would bring the boy here only to abandon him, in a place he didn't know, all alone without much food in winter.

Unless-

No.

It was a cruel thing even to think- a sin, really, one so dark they didn’t even have to carve it in stone for people to know.

Still, not many would put it past Tommy Shelby, not after all the cuttings and the killings and the shootings and the lootings and the burnings. There were stories and accounts, tales and rumours, whispers and shouts but they all taught one thing: To fear Thomas Shelby.

But once upon a time (Y/N) had looked into those eyes and felt her heart break for him as she saw a boy, and not the man he had been forced to be.

A lot had changed since then, but she refused to believe he would be capable of something like this.

This was his son, for heaven's sake.

And he wouldn't just leave him out to starve and freeze.

I hope.

If someone found something that was lost, one returned it and so (Y/N) gathered the children and crossed the courtyard to the house on Watery Lane.

Charlie showed her that the back door had been unlocked, and let them in. As soon as they crossed the threshold, a chill went down her spine which was due to more than just the cold air.

“Oh.”, Emma gasped, wrapping her arm around her leg.

She felt it too, and even Charlie huddled closer to her .

(Y/N)s heart thundered in her chest as she stepped closer inside.

“Hello?”, she called, listening to her own shaky breath as her voice bounced off of the walls.

“Hello?”

Neither Emma nor Charlie seemed all too keen to take the initiative and so it was up to her to lead the way. All the houses here had been built en masse, and so had the exact same layout, well apart from whatever those dark green doors that were as large as stable doors hid.

Stepping into the hall she called out once more. Still, there was no answer, and no trace that anyone was here.

“No one’s here!”, Emma remarked, looking around once more. “There are no shoes and no coats - look Mummy.”

She saw just fine, and swallowed the lump in her throat. But at the same time, she felt Charlie nudge ever closer as if he wanted to be absorbed into her.

“Don’t worry, darling!”, she told him, stroking over his head. “It’ll be just fine. Now why don’t we make ourselves comfortable?”

Comfortable in the house of the most dangerous family in Birmingham - which I just broke into with two small children.

But what was the alternative?

They returned to the kitchen and she began to open the curtains to let the little natural light they could get in.

Protecting the children under her coat for warmth, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in at least. As she fidgeted with the lock, her thumbs turned grey from the dust.

With the air, the winter entered the house on Watery Lane, but (Y/N) had already felt the chill. She had never been here before, not in all these years, even before these walls had been tainted by the implications of what lay in the shadows.

There were stories about ghosts and spirits that lingered in the walls, hidden between floorboards and furniture. If they weren’t regularly let out, they would collect and gather - and infect and drain the energy of those living around them. She did not doubt that these walls had housed many ghosts over the years.

Goosebumps appeared all over her arms and back and when her teeth began to clatter, she closed the windows once more.

“Now, let’s see about a fire.”

“Dad’s brought firewood upstairs.”, Charlie announced.

The offer was tempting, but the last thing she wanted to do was go snooping around upstairs. Lord only knew what she might find.

So she decided to make do with what she found downstairs.

It caused a lot of smoke at first, but then it finally began to spread some warmth.

She took her coat, and Emma’s too (Charlie had come without one) and hung them over the back of a chair.

Charlie had run upstairs and brought down as many toys as he could carry, eager to show Emma. There were figures of horses with riders - Cowboys, by the look of it, and cars with shiny surfaces and sheer windows, with doors one could open.

They were brand new and undoubtedly expensive and soon the patterns on the round carpet had been converted to a landscape with rivers with dangerous currents, gaping cliffs and deep forests which were perilous for both rider and driver.

As the children played, (Y/N) allowed herself to glance around.

In the large cupboard behind the round desk, she could see countless plates and cups of old, occasionally chipped china. She knew that pattern from many kitchens around here.

The table had many marks upon it, showing over a decade of use and one of the chairs wobbled slightly. The kitchen area was identical to the one she had back home, but there were no jars, no bowl with vegetables, no tin of christmas cookies. But instead a stain where something had burned into it.

It almost looked normal.

In a way, it could almost have been comfortable, if one had taken the time to give it a good scrubbing- and add some decorations maybe. If one had added life, and not just memory of it.

As the children were lost in their play, she allowed herself to drown in a past time, when she had been a little girl with braids and bows in her hair and no knowledge of the world, nor what it would make of them.

The faces in the picture frames on the walls were more familiar to her than the people would be now. She had left shortly after they had returned and had returned after they had already become too big for Small Heath.

But in the pictures, they were familiar to her. There was even a picture of Mrs. Shelby. It was impossible to miss the part of the picture that had been cut away, even at the price of the dent it left on her shoulder where her husband’s hand had been resting once.

She wondered what had happened to him - if he was still alive. After the war there had been talk for a little while that Arthur Shelby was back, but no one had really seen him, so even if he had, he didn’t stay.

Whatever memories she had of him were scarce - those of Mrs. Shelby burned far brighter in her mind. She had been beautiful, and kind, but sometimes she had looked at her with those eyes as if seeing more than just her face. Then, the change had happened and they had begun to fear the sounds and shadows that came from across the courtyard. There were chants behind the windows and whispers in the street. Then she had vanished for a few months and in that time, (Y/N)s little world had shattered completely, so she had paid the house across the courtyard little mind, even when Mrs. Shelby returned. Finn had barely been old enough to hold his own head up, when his mother died. And little older when his father left.

Finn - he must almost be a man now, she thought, or on the best way there. But in her mind he was either the baby that screamed all night for weeks on end, or the scrappy child with a quick mouth and quicker hands.

Three turned into four and then to five, but still there was no sound apart from the children playing, who had begun to transport marbles back and forth with the cars - a flourishing trade between the cowboys from the table-shade-valley and the others from the sofa-top-heights.

When five turned into six, hunger struck again.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

But there was nothing in the kitchen cabinets apart from cutlery and dust, and in the pantry she found an ice book which hadn’t been used in years and a box of biscuits that looked to be from the Golden Jubilee.

“I’ll have to go back to our house to prepare something.”, she announced.

“Don’t leave me here!”, Charlie insisted, scrambling up from the carpet at lightning speed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”, she said, before glancing around.

In one of the drawers she found some pencils and writing paper (and also some bullets which she decided to ignore) and wrote a note, before taking both children and making her way back to her own home.

Staring at the paper, she chose her words carefully.

While they ate, her mind wandered back to all these empty cabinets and then to her own. She had taken care to fill them in advance, knowing how hectic these Christmas days could get. It wasn’t that she hadn’t already stretched her budget this month, with Emma’s presents and the Christmas food, but she couldn’t as well leave them with nothing.

But it just wasn’t right, and not the way they did things around here. Shelbys or not. One didn’t allow a child to stay in a house without anything. So she retrieved her basket and began to fill it. A bottle of milk, some tea, a handful of potatoes, carrots and some other vegetables would do. She gathered a few slices of bread and wrapped it in paper, before cutting off a piece of their butter. It was joined by a few eggs and a jar of marmalade. They wouldn’t notice that it was the smallest they had.

In the other jars which she had already cleaned for their next use, she filled some flour and sugar. It wasn’t much, but it would get them through a few days.

She also decided to add some biscuits wrapped in a red cloth, like the ones she had given away as Christmas goodies. Charlie liked them, after all.

With the basket, she no longer had a hand free, but Emma seemed content by now to walk alone. Charlie, now wearing one of Emma’s coats (the black one which needed mending at the bottom) was glad to have her hand to hold.

The second time around, the house felt a lot warmer, but she could still see the dust dance in the light.

The children begun to play a game of marbles, as the clock kept ticking, and ticking and ticking. Almost as if it was mocking her.

Soon, it was already far past Emma’s bedtime and both she and Charlie got fussy. But she couldn’t leave and put Emma to bed, while being here and watching Charlie.

So (Y/N) chose to put them both on the sofa (which she had beaten the worst of the dust out of the pillows) next to each other.

“A sleepover?”, Emma giggled, glancing at Charlie with wide eyes.

“Only for a bit. I’m sure your father will be here very soon.”

Charlie didn’t look sure. And he didn’t share Emma’s excitement either.

The two of them were so little, they could fit onto the sofa with no problem, and under the blanket she had brought. Duffie, still in Charlie’s arms, lay between them as she knelt down in front of them, smoothing down the fabric of her dress before she opened the book of fairy tales.

Emma chose the one about The Seven Ravens, which was typical for she liked nothing more than stories of courageous girls. Charlie didn’t seem too keen, as the little girl in the fairy tale first encountered the cruel sun, and then the icy moon on her quest to find and rescue her brothers, nor did he like the gatekeeping dwarf too much, but when the girl had unlocked the door and entered, and when the seven ravens turned back into the boys they had been to crowd around their little sister, he breathed such a sigh of relief, she giggled.

“It’s just a story.”, Emma giggled.

“And they had a happy ending.”, (Y/N) reminded Charlie, stroking over his forehead. She didn’t miss how he leaned into it.

“Mummy?”

“Hm?”

“A song now please!”, Emma asked, snuggling into her pillow.

“Which song would that be?”, (Y/N) asked.

“You know!”, her daughter groaned and rolled her eyes. With a smile, (Y/N) shifted closer, stroking a strand of hair out of her face.

“I gave my love a cherry that had no stone.”, she began.

“I gave my love a chicken that had no bone.

I gave my love a story that had no end.

I gave my love a baby with no tears shed.”

(Y/N) did not have a singing voice, not a proper one. She sang for her daughter and she sang in church, but it wasn’t a voice meant for an audience. She could hold a tune but not leap to unknown heights or plummet into the depth with her voice like someone else might have done.

Emma knew the answers to the questions asked in the second verse well by now, but Charlie did not and he was listening eagerly when the third verse came, his bright blue eyes, his father’s eyes, locked in on her.

“A cherry when it’s blooming, it has no stone.

A chicken in an eggshell, it has no bone.

The story of ‘I love you’, it has no end.

A baby when it’s sleeping has no tears to shed.”

With that, her song came to a close.

“Sleep now, my darling!”, she told Emma as she kissed her temple. “And you too, Charlie. I’ll be right there.”

He muttered a good night, but didn’t seem as content as Emma.

When nine turned to ten, she decided to forgo her resolve not to use anything in this house and made herself a cup of tea. After all, she had cleaned the kettle and the cups, and had brought the tea.

But before long, ten turned to eleven, and there was nothing to do but listen to the crackling fire and the breathing of the sleeping children. And to wait of course.

Even her own bedtime passed. She ought to be exhausted after the hassle of the last few days and the early morning thanks to Emma’s excitement. It already seemed like half a lifetime ago now. And yet, she couldn’t even begin to feel tired. It would be just like deciding to sleep in a lion’s cage.

Midnight had come and only just gone, when she heard a car stop not too far away.

Her heart began to thunder in her chest.

The only people that dared to move around Small Heath at night were the Blinders, and of those only very few possessed a car.

(Y/N) stood up and smoothed down her skirt.

In her mind she had prepared her little speech over and over.

Introduce yourself. Explain. Apologise. Leave.

Just as she checked on the children once more, seeing the both of them fast asleep, she heard the faintest click, but then nothing.

Perhaps I was mistaken, she thought.

Just as she was about to enter the hall and check, the whole frame was filled out by a tall figure with broad shoulders made broader by his thick black winter coat.

But she wasn’t looking at that, or even his face.

The only thing she saw - the only thing she could see - was the pitch black barrel of his gun.

End of Part 1

[Here you can find: Part 2]

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind! If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Taglist: @lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

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falcqns · 4 months

Text

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter three

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy spends her first week of maternity leave ignoring everyone but Jackson and Nolan. Tim comes back to work and questions where his rookie is, but no one will tell him anything, even Lucy. Lucy finds out some news about Tamara, and has to make a decision.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, Lucy is a hardcore swiftie, adoption, finally Tim makes an appearance, low-key basing Tamara off of my one month old bc im obsessed w everything she does as I didn’t get this experience w my first,

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Lucy laid Tamara down in her bassinet, one hand on her back, and one hand on her belly. She removes her hand from underneath her, and rubs her belly, watching as the 2 week old infant stretches, yawns, and closes her eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

Lucy sighs, rubbing her hand across Tamara’s forehead, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her nose. The past two weeks had been a lot, but Lucy wouldn’t trade it for anything. She was loving being Tamara’s guardian.

Was she exhausted? Yes. Had she not had a shower in over a week? Also yes. But it didn’t matter. Knowing Tamara is taken care of, safe, and loved is more valuable to Lucy than all the good night sleeps and hot showers she’d ever taken are.

Lucy turned on the sound machine and the baby monitor, taking the portable portion with her. She slowly shut the door, and then turned to look at the state of her apartment.

It was a disaster. There were empty bottles, take out containers, coffee cups, and laundry everywhere. The dishes were piling up, and the garbage needed to be taken out. She sighed one more time, clipping the baby monitor to the pocket of her sweat pants, before she started picking up things, wanting to get the apartment in order for when Jackson and John came over after shift.

Jackson had been her number one supporter the last two weeks. He came over on his lunch break and helped her bathe Tamara for the first time on her own, and had ran out to the store for formula and diapers and wipes more times than Lucy could count. John, on the other hand, had yet to meet Tamara. He knew of Tamara, and that Lucy took her in, but he had been so busy with adjusting to his busy schedule and maintaining his contact with his son that time for him to come over and cuddle a baby while Lucy ate something was limited.

Tonight, however, was a free night, and Lucy could tell John was excited. He had texted her in the morning, asking if they were still on for tonight and if she needed him to bring anything, followed up by a text gushing about how he couldn’t wait to meet her. It made Lucy happy, knowing that she had such a great support system already, even though it was small. She had yet to tell her parents, as she knew that they would call her irresponsible and foolish for doing this, but then again, what did they know about raising children properly? All they did when she showed any sort of emotion was stick her in a therapy session.

So while her support system was small, it was strong, and was filled with people who would support her how she needed, not how they thought she needed it.

She had just dragged Tamara’s baby bouncer that Jackson had brought her a few days ago into the bathroom when she heard Tamara start crying in her bedroom. Lucy smiled to herself, and made her way into the bedroom. She turned off the baby monitor and the sound machine before approaching the bassinet, where Tamara was moving her limbs around in her sleep sack, eyes searching the room for Lucy.

“Hi baby girl.” Lucy said gently, not wanting to startle Tamara. She unzipped the sleep sack and cooed when she saw Tamara’s limbs scrunch up in a stretch. “Did you have a good sleep?” She asked as she lifted her up, making sure to support her head.

Tamara instantly settled down when Lucy held her against her chest, and carried her over to the change table. She laid her down and unzipped her onesie, her heart hurting when Tamara let out a cry at the air of the room hitting her bare skin.

“I know,” Lucy said gently, trying to be quick about the diaper change. “I know, Mama Lucy is trying to be quick.”

Once she was changed and her onesie was done back up, Lucy cradled her against her chest once again, and carried her into the bathroom, strapping her into the baby bouncer. Tamara cried again briefly, but quickly settled when Lucy hit the on button and it slowly began rocking her back and forth.

Lucy sighed, and stripped quickly, turning the shower on and hopped in. She kept the shower door open slightly, just so that she could peek out at Tamara every so often. She knew Tamara would be fine for a few minutes, but it made the anxiety in Lucy’s chest settle if she could just peek at her every once in a while.

Lucy finished her quick shower, and dried off, dressing in record time. She had just pulled on her leggings and sweater when Tamara started crying again. Lucy checked her phone and deduced that she was most likely hungry, as it had been almost 3 hours since her last bottle.

She scooped Tamara up, and carried her into the kitchen, where she grabbed the bottle with 3 ounces of formula, and warmed it up before carrying it over to the couch. She was about to sit down and feed her when the doorbell rang.

“It’s open!” She called to Jackson and John. Jackson opened the door and walked in, followed by John.

“Hey,” She said, smiling at her friends. “How was work today?”

John nodded with a smile, his eyes fixed on Tamara.

“Do you want to feed her?” She asked, and John nodded.

“If you don’t mind,” He said, looking at her for permission.

“Be my guest,” she said, holding out the bottle in one hand, and Tamara with her other arm. John scooped both baby and bottle from Lucy and sat down on the couch. Lucy sat down next to them, with Jackson sitting across from the two of them, on the chair that he had claimed over a year ago.

“How was work?” Lucy repeated, wanting to know what was going on while she is gone.

“Oh you know,” Jackson said with a smile. “Its work.”

“Yup,” John agreed. “Absolutely insane.”

“Glad to hear nothings changed,” Lucy said with a smile.

“Well, one thing has changed,” John said. “Tim came back to work finally.”

Lucy nodded. “I figured. He’s not mad that I’m off, is he?”

Jackson shook his head. “No, not mad. He’s definitely confused, but don’t worry, we haven’t told anyone the real reason you’re off.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said sincerely. “I really do appreciate that. It’s not that I’m ashamed of her or anything, but I don’t know how long she’ll be with me, so I don’t want everyone to get attached and then have to say goodbye.” She explained.

Both boys nodded, and John went to open his mouth to answer, when Lucy’s phone went off. She looked down, and saw the name ‘Stacie - DCFS’ flash across her screen.

“Hold on,” she said to the boys, grabbing her phone and walking into her bedroom.

“Hello?” She said, answering the phone.

“Hi Lucy, its Stacie.” Stacie said in her cheery voice.

“Hi Stacie, how can I help you?” Lucy responded, trying to control her breathing. She knew that this call would come sooner or later, and no matter how much she told herself that she had to do what was best for Tamara, she still dreaded hearing that they found her family.

“Well, I’m just calling to inform you that the search for Tamara’s family has been unsuccessful. We were unable to locate any relatives who are able to take her in.”

A smile spread on Lucy’s face, which then caused a pang of guilt inside her. She shouldn’t be rejoicing over this. Them being unsuccessful means that she does have family out there, but they aren’t able to take her in, meaning she once again, in her short 2 weeks of life, has no one.

“Oh, okay.” She answered. “So what happens next?” She asked.

“Well,” Stacie said, a smile evident on her face. “You have a choice to make. We can either search for a permanent placement for Tamara with another family, or you can start the process to adopt her.”

Tears filled Lucy’s eyes. There was no question in her mind about what she was going to pick.

“You can take a few days to think-“ Stacie began, but Lucy cut her off.

“I want to adopt her.” She said.

“I had a feeling you’d choose that option,” Stacie said warmly. Lucy could hear keys clicking in the background. “So, I will contact a family lawyer for you, and get the process expedited. If all goes well, which I know for a fact it will, she should officially be yours - at the very latest - by the end of next month.”

“T-thank you,” Lucy said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome, Lucy.” Stacie said. “Because of you, that baby is going to be raised in a wonderful environment, by the most wonderful mom. I’m so glad that you are the one who found her.”

Lucy and Stacie traded thank you’s once more, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Lucy sat down on the bed, and sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She took a deep breath, before the door opened.

“Everything okay, Lucy?” John asked, carrying Tamara.

“Y-yeah, great actually.” She said, looking up at her baby girl in the arms of her friend. “That was her social worker.”

Jackson walked in to the room, and took a seat next to her. “And?” He asked.

“They couldn’t find any family when are able to take her in, so we have started the process for me to adopt her.” She said with a smile, and laughed when both Jackson and John exclaimed in happiness, Jackson wrapping her in a hug.

“That’s amazing!” John said, sitting down next to her. “You’re officially a mom.” He said, handing Tamara over to her.

“Yeah, I am.” She whispered, looking down at the sleeping infant. She then wrinkled her nose, after getting a whiff of poop.

“Oh yeah,” John said. “Yeah she definitely pooped, so she’s all yours, Mama.”

—-

Later that night, after Jackson and John had left, and Tamara had been laid down for the night, Lucy was laying in bed, facing Tamara. She was going to be hers, officially, and she couldn’t be happier. She had always wanted to be a mom, and now she was one, to a little girl who deserved a mother the most.

Just as Lucy went to close her eyes, there was a knock at her door. Lucy sighed, and climbed out of bed, trudging to the door. She peeked through the peep hole, and her heart dropped seeing Tim. She gulped, and opened the door.

“H-hi,” She said apprehensively.

“Hey.” He said, looking concerned. “Why aren’t you at work? Grey said you’re on leave for a few months, and no one seems to know anything.”

“What, are you worried?” She said jokingly, hoping that Tamara would stay asleep.

Tim rolled his eyes. “No, Boot, I just wanted to know if you were dropping out of the program or not so I don’t waste my time waiting around.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No, sir. I am not dropping out.”

“Then why are you on leave?” He demanded.

“Look, Tim, theres been few…” Lucy began, unsure how to word her explanation without giving anything away. “Changes in my life recently. Changes that I don’t feel at liberty to share with people, especially not my training officer. Not at the moment at least.” She explained.

“I just need a few months to adjust and find my footing, and then I’ll be back.” She said, and Tim nodded in agreement.

“Good.” He said simply. “I’m going to hold you to that, Chen.”

Lucy smiled warmly. “I know, sir.”

#natashasera #chenford #chenford fanfic #lucy chen #lucy chen fanfiction #tim bradford #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford x lucy chen #tamara colins #the rookie fanfiction #you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now)#melissa oneil #eric winter #dylan conrique

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ladysharmaa · 2 years

Text

Cinderella story

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Y/n lost her father when she was very young, being in the care of her stepmother and sisters. However, they started to treat her like a maid. Unable to attend the ball the Bridgerton family is hosting, Y/n tries to find ways to go, even if it is against the wish of her stepmother. There she meets Anthony who is in search of a wife, but will he continue to want to be with her after finding out who she is

a/n: i’m so not happy with this, anyway sorry for the long wait :/

part 1 part 2 part 3

"I do not care! I want to look for all the houses! For all the village! Through the ball! Anthony exclaimed to his family, who heard him for about 20 minutes with wide eyes and a shocked expression. The Viscount, the one who always swore he didn't want to marry, being dependent on someone, was losing his mind about a woman he didn't even know the name.

"Oh, he got it bad." Colin whistled under his breath to Benedict who tried to drown out a chuckle with his hand. Daphne, who was also next to Colin, gave him an elbow to shut up. Anyway, if Anthony heard him, he preferred to ignore him.

"And how are you going to do that, Anthony?" Violet asked, trying to stop her lips from turning up in a smile.

Her oldest son, finally finding someone to accompany him for the rest of his life, ending some worries of her. Although she never met the woman for whom her son was crazy for, when she saw them dance she remembered of her and Edmund. Love at first sight. It was as if they had become people around them, looking into each other's eyes with so much love that tears even came to her eyes.

"Exactly. It's not like you can break the door of all houses of town to find your mysterious woman. You'll have unwanted people's attention. Lady Whistledown has written about you, everyone is looking for her."

"Challenge me." he said to Eloise, looking at her with such determination that the family was in doubt if he would really do that. "I don't want another ball, another woman. I want her. Only her. As my wife, Viscountess and mother of my children. You can be sure I will do everything to find her."

And it wasn't a surprise when he did just that.

Meanwhile, Y/n was locked in her room for three days. Her stomach grunted from hunger since her stepmother only left her a bread in the morning and at night, already dry but that she ate without complain. Many would have worse than her, she kept remiding herself.

One of the things that had entertained her from the boredom of the days was remembering her night with Anthony. It was as if she could still feel his hand on her waist, the proximity between them. Y/N's breath was stuck in her throat every time she remembered and a flush appeared on her cheeks.

She still made a few short visits to the house, making it seem less of a prisoner, though it was only to clean or cook for her sisters. Time seemed to pass slowly. Every day was the same. Her body was sore from sleeping on the hard floor, now even more so since she didn't walk that much due to being confined to such a small space.

Her stepmother hadn't given her any further updates on what was happening in the village after the ball. Y/n knew she was naive to think Viscount had taken an interest in her, and little did she know how wrong she was. For at that moment, Anthony Bridgerton was knocking on every door in the village, rich or poor, looking for the girl who consumed his thoughts every moment of the day.

Finally, he reached the last houses where he could find the mystery girl. He couldn't deny that his hope was waning with every person he encountered who wasn't who he wanted, despite motivating comments from Benedict and Collin, who accompanied him (mostly to ensure he didn't do anything reckless or stupid).

He straightened his suit, knocking on the door of the Y/l/n mansion. Y/n's stepmother opened the doo, a shocked look crossing his face when he saw the Bridgertons before she masked it with a huge smile, immediately giving him a small bow.

"Lord Viscount, it is an honor to have you in my humble home. Gentleman." she added when she saw Anthony's brothers. "Oh, were are my manners. Please come in."

"Thank you, Lady Y/l/n. I apologize for showing up unannounced, but the matter is urgent. I would like to know if you have any daughters, maybe sisters? We would deeply appreciate it if we could meet them, again, the matter is urgent." Anthony explained with a small polite smile, despite having had enough of repeating the same conversation.

Furthermore, as people soon expected that he was talking about the woman he danced with at the ball, the young girls pretended to be her her, as if he would n't see their lie from her.

Obviously he would notice. They didn't have the delicacy that Y/n had, the flame in their eyes, the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. He would do anything to see that smile again. He soon accepted that she had him wrapped around her finger, as her siblings teased him without stopping since that night. But Anthony couldn't care less. He wanted her, her secrets, her imperfections, her bravery, her kindness. Everything. He wanted all parts of her.

"In fact I do have two daughters. I shall bring them here immediately."

Hope filled his chest again only to be destroyed when he saw two young women, with eccentric hairstyles who let out little squeals when they learned of Bridgerton's presence in their house. Y/n's two stepsisters competed against each other as they raced to try to be the first to get ahead of Anthony,

Collin and Benedict both chuckled as they watched the scene unfold, only to be silenced when Anthony sent them a murderous glare, raising their hands in surrender.

"Lord Bridgerton." the older sister bowed, pushing the other girl with her hip and showing the men an innocent smile. The two started to bicker between them while their mother spoke to the Bridgerton, telling them all about her 'talented' daughters.

The Viscount ran a hand over his tired face, offering the woman a smile before offering the excuse that it was time to leave, but that he was grateful for their hospitality. The three Bridgertons made their way out of the house, but stopped when they reached their horses and heard a soft voice sing the tune of a song Anthony knew by heart. The song that accompanied the dance between him and Y/n.

Y/n was taking up her time cleaning her room, the dust making her sneeze and preventing her from getting a full night's rest. She found herself humming the melody of a song, twirling as Anthony had done to her when they danced. A small smile appeared on her face, as it always did when she remembered her night with the Viscount.

She knew she shouldn't think about him, but how could she not when he looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. He made her feel so beautiful. It was a strange feeling for Y/n, being so comfortable in the presence of a man and wanting to be with him. Her mind navigated to different places as she swung around, continuing to hum the song absently. She was grateful for the breeze that entered her room due to the open window, a layer of sweat already covering her forehead.

But everything came to a stop when she heard the voice of the man who made his way to her heart. It couldn't be, she thought, That's it, I finally have gone crazy. However, she heard that voice again. Recovering from the shock, she bent down a little and walked silently to the window. She stuck her head out, trying to understand what was happening. And much to her surprise her, Anthony Bridgerton was at her house, talking with her stepmother.

"It seems you have another lady in your house." Anthony clenched his jaw, noticing how the woman opened her mouth but no words came out. He looked at the cat peeking through the half-open door, "Or have your cat learned how to sing?" he asked sarcastically.

"Lady Y/l/n, is any other lady living at your house?" Collin questioned, keeping his cool before his older brother got into trouble.

"Well, yes..." Y/n's stepmother admitted when he couldn't come up with a convincing enough excuse especially when it looked like the brothers were running out of patience. But she was quick to add, "But she is only a maid. You certainly don't want to talk to her. I was just saving your time, my lord."

"I can decide in what I will waste my time. Now, please, bring me the maid." Anthony asked, though everyone understood that it was more of a demand that the Lady could not refuse. She gave them an unsure smile, bowing before hurrying to Y/n's room.

When she heard the key in the lock, Y/n jumped away from the window, standing in the middle of the room confused as to what was happening when her stemother grabbed her elbow and dragged her down the stairs to the living room where the Bridgertons would be waiting. .

"You will keep your head down, not talk to them or reveal who you are. The Viscount Bridgerton wished to meet you, but you cannot let him know you are the one of the ball. You will not ruin the chance of one of my daughters becoming a Bridgerton, little girl. As your mother, I forbid you."

“You never were, and never will be my mother.” Y/n whispered but loud enough for her to hear, emotions laced in her voice as she fought back tears.

With a little push, Y/n walked into the living room, seeing Anthony standing a little farther away, his back to her. Her steomother couldn't be with her since Benedict and Collin blocked her entry, fake smiles on their faces as they asked her questions to engage in a conversation while Anthony talked to Y/n.

Hearing noise behind him, Anthony turned, her mouth opening in admiration at the sight of her. He found her, he was sure. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Y/n looked down, self-conscious of how bad her hair looked, just having brushed it a few days ago, her cheap blue dress full of dirt and in poor condition compared to the immaculate outfit Anthony wore.

But Anthony didn't notice any of that. He was focused on her eyes that seemed to look anywhere but him, her rosy cheeks, her plump lips. She was perfect for him.

"It's you." he whispered, taking a step forward, but stopped when he wasn't sure what to do next.

"Am I the one you danced at the ball? Yes, I am." she let out a nervous chuckle. She started walking slowly towards him who seemed to be stuck in place. "But I have no carriage. No diamonds. No fancy dresses. No parents. Will you accept me as I am. A simple country girl who loves you." she seemed to gasp as she realized the revelation she had made.

"Of course I will." he sounded breathless. "Only if you accept me as I am. A viscount who is still learning how to accept love. But I want to do it with you by my side."

Y/N smiled, gasping as he felt Anthony's hands on her waist, bringing her closer to him. Their foreheads touched, Anthony nuzzling her nose with his, savoring that moment knowing she finally had the woman he loved in his arms. Only their breaths could be heard although Y/n was sure Anthony could have her heart beating against her chest.

"May I kiss you?" he whispered, their lips almost touching. His hand caressed her cheek, smiling when he felt her nodding.

However, much to Anthony's annoyance, Y/n sisters ran to the room, bowing when they saw Y/n and the Bridgerton intimate position. "My sister. I'm sorry."

"Please forgive us." the other one added.

The girl looked at them, remembering all the moments they spent together. Y/n didn’t speak and that made clear how she standed. She intertwined her hand with Anthony's, the smile never fading from her lips.

"Shall we?" he questioned, pointing to the exit. He walked hand in hand with Y/n, unable to stop the feeling of pure delight and love that invaded his body. Meanwhile, the same happened to her Y/n and her stepmother, who begged for her not even forgiveness after Y/n would be the future Viscountess, could ruin her happiness.

"Welcome to the family, sister!" Collin exclaimed as he climbed onto his horse and Anthony helped her onto his. Loud laughter escaped her, her head tilting back slightly.

Anthony was in pure adoration, he was sure his heart was going to explode from love. He wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life and would do the impossible to make it happen. Her kindness and happiness were contagious and he couldn't wait to see their future.

He then climbed onto the horse behind Y/n and brought her closer to him, if that was even possible. He finally had her, and he would never let her go.

2 years later

Nicholas Edmund Bridgerton was running happily in the gardens of the Bridgerton summer house, being chased by his uncles while Anthony's sisters tried to help to hide the little boy. Anthony watched their game intently from his seat, resting after his siblings had taken his place playing with his son.

Anthony admired his son, his laughter warming up his heart. He was like a copy of his mother. Kind and brave with a free spirit that he definitely acquired from Y/n. A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. Anthony turned his head, seeing his very pregnant wife behind him. Carefully, he guided her in front of him, pulling her onto his lap and immediately placing a hand on her swollen belly.

"And how are you, Viscountess Bridgerton. Did you sleep weel?" he asked with a small kiss to her lips.

"In fact I did, Viscount Bridgerton. The little one seems to only wish to sleep during the day. I guess that after you speak to her at night she gets all excited." she teased him.

"It could be a boy." he remembered her.

"I have a feeling it's a girl. Either way, they will be very loved."

"We do make pretty babies." Anthony whispered starting to kiss her her neck, tracing it with her nose, satisfied when he felt her shiver under him.

"Indeed we do, my dear husband."

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy!" a small voice called out to them, breaking their momentum. Nick's little legs moved quickly for him to get closer to his parents and show them the flowers he'd picked. "Look, I picked them for the baby."

"They are beautiful, baby." Y/n said, letting him land them on her belly and kiss it. Tears filled her eyes which she quickly dried, mumbling how the pregnancy made her so sensitive.

Anthony brought the boy into his arms, looking at the two most important people in his life as Y/n asked their son how his day had been. They were his family, and he was so damn proud of that.

"I love you, Y/n Thank you. For everything."

"I love you, Anthony. Forever."

#Bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #cinderella story #cinderella #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x wife #anthony bridgerton x wife reader #daphne bridgerton #benedict bridgerton

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carrie-organa · 11 months

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Here’s How I Would’ve Ended Ted Lasso

My version includes:

actually acknowledging Keeley’s importance and making Roy not a creep.

actually calling Ted out for his weird ass behavior. This guy is depressed and no one ever asks him about his horrible self esteem issues.

Here, take it before I go insane.

Ted’s Storyline

The team would talk about Ted’s decision and there would be a debate about it. Sam and Jamie agree that he should go home to his son (for different but obvious reasons). Colin and Isaac believe strongly in found family and don’t understand why Ted choosing his son has to mean him abandoning them. Jamie’s perspective is changed. They have a good point.

Rebecca’s storyline in general was odd this episode. Her constantly reaching out to Ted and him shutting her down is so stupid and at odds with their relationship.

I would’ve had Ted explain his decision when she’s giving him her “You go, I’ll go” speech. Talk about his dad and bring up the 9/13 connection. WHY WAS THIS NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED.

Ted saying that not only does Henry miss him, no one here needs him anymore. He’s given them every tool he can think of and there’s nothing left for him to do. There’s nothing else he can give them.

side note: I think this is really at the root of Ted’s issues and I’m flabbergasted that no one calls him on it. He only feels like he should stay in situations where he’s needed. He never stays somewhere because he wants to be there. He’s the traveling salesman of optimism.

Rebecca: You’re right Ted, maybe we don’t need you to remind us to have hope or to believe in ourselves. To reach for happiness. But just because we no longer need you does not mean you are not wanted. Are you happy here? Ted: It’s not that simple. Henry— Rebecca: Yes, I know about Henry, and I completely understand your concerns. I’m asking you if you’re happy here. You, Ted Lasso, the man, not the coach or the father. Are. You. Happy. Ted (bursting with it): Yes. Of course I am. I never thought I’d have an experience like this in my life. It doesn’t seem real. It feels like I fell asleep and I’m going to wake up in exactly the same place I started when I woke up. But I can’t leave Henry. I can’t abandon my son because I like my job. That’s not fair to him.

Ted’s weird detachment would’ve been addressed during the game. The team’s first half wasn’t effected by them crying over Beard’s video but rather by Ted’s refusal to coach them anymore.

Ted: I’m not gonna give y’all a pep talk. Jamie: why the FUCK not? why are you checking out? (puppy dog eyes) what did we do wrong? Ted: deer in the headlights. Turns to Beard and Roy for help. They don’t offer any. They’re wondering the same thing.

No one is disputing that there’s an issue with Ted’s situation. It hurts to be away from his son, it hurts Henry to be away from his dad. HOWEVER — the only solution isn’t to go home and leave everyone behind.

Ted makes some kind of analogy to ties in football games. Sometimes there are no-win scenarios and you just have to accept it. Roy: that’s bullshit.

The episode is about Ted losing sight of his own philosophy and the people who love him reminding him of it. Restoring his sense of belief and optimism. Telling him not to accept a no-win scenario.

The RoyKeeleyJamie of it all

Roy’s obsession with getting Keeley back when she keeps pushing him away is cringey. Someone needs to ask him why he’s being so insistent. I choose Rebecca.

Rebecca: if you don’t explain yourself right now I’m sending you to HR. I’ve never seen you act like this.

After Jamie/Keeley hug

Roy: what were you talking to Keeley about? Jamie: none of your business, mate. Roy (still an insecure bean): Are you guys…getting back together? Jamie (furrowed brows): No? I just asked if she would go on a business trip to New Zealand with me. Make sure I don’t get thrown out of the entire country hitting on the Prime Minister. Roy (unable to help himself): She’s not PM anymore. Jamie: Hm. Shame. Well, she’s still fit. Jamie makes it clear he’s not interested in starting anything with Keeley, after Mom City he knows he really needs to work on himself before he can date anybody. The perspective is very much side-eying Roy, who has decided to ignore all of his issues.

WHY HAS NO ONE ASKED KEELEY WHAT SHE WANTS.

Roy and Jamie still go to a bar. Still end up at Keeley’s door. But this time not because they were fighting over her (because cringe. even though both of them have feelings for her, they respect her autonomy). No, this time, Roy got fucking pissed and he’s being a sad sack and refuses to go home so Jamie followed him to Keeley’s to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Jamie: Roy, mate, let’s go home. We’ll get a kebab on the way. Roy: No, I just…I just need to know what I’m doing wrong. Please. Keeley: Roy… Roy: If you just tell me then I can fix it! Keeley: It isn’t you! (off Roy) It’s not. I promise. I just…I keep ending up in these intense, whirlwind relationships, and I can’t jump into another one again. Not yet. Not until I know it’s going to end up differently. Because I swear to god, Roy, if I lose you again (tearing up) I will not survive it. I barely survived it the first time. Roy: me too… Jamie (cannot handle uncomfortable situations): Yeah me neither, if I’m honest. (off looks from them both) WHAT? You were both so sad and quiet. Well, this one’s always quiet (gesture to Roy) but it was different. It was weird. I saw him crying in his car once. Roy: I was not crying in the car… Jamie: Yes you were! I saw you wipe a tear! Keeley: BOYS! (they’re exhausting. it’s late. she wants to stop being ambushed into these emotional conversations). something about how her type is clearly smoking hot, intense brunettes (check the math — Jamie, Roy, Jack). Preferably by a cheeky Jamie as he leads a quiet Roy to an uber.

The season has not set up Roy and Keeley to get back together. It just hasn’t. But I think it has set up Keeley to acknowledge how much Roy means to her and to explain why she’s skittish about getting back together with him right now. I think she wants to give him a chance, it’s just going to take some time.

I’d like to see a scene with just the two of them where Keeley asks him not to give up, please. Because that’s Roy’s issue, he quits while he’s ahead and he gives up because it’s easier than getting really hurt. He’s putting himself out there, and I love that because growth, but I think there needs to be an acknowledgment that he’s gone about it wrong.

Roy: I know that I’ve been a right fucking twat with all this badgering and I apologize. I know it’s all too little, too late and you’ve moved on. I do want to be friends, if you’ll let me. I just can’t handle another year where you’re not a part of my life. It’s unbearable. Keeley: It really was. Roy: If you want to get coffee sometime, or something (call back to when he asked her out in S1), just let me know. It won’t be a date. Just as friends. Keeley (nodding, equal parts relieved and disappointed): Okay. Roy walks away, they’re in the car park. Keeley calls his name and runs up to him. Kisses his cheek. Obviously there’s still something there, but they’re just gonna have a different start this time. A slow build, rather than an intense start.

Miscellaneous Complaints:

I would’ve added at least another 20 minutes to the finale. How the team reacts to Ted leaving. And I think he should leave, I think he should go back to Kansas and there should be a little time jump. Michelle tells him she knows he’s unfulfilled, Henry saying he misses visiting him in Richmond. This decision is good for literally no one when you actually see it through. It’s a nice gesture but ultimately it’s meaningless.

The way Nate is just there is so unsatisfying to me. He’s such an important character in the show and the finale paid him dust.

What happened with Bex and the other girl when they spoke to Rebecca? There was no resolution there.

BEARD AND JANE ARE NOT COUPLE GOALS. Why does the narrative simultaneously acknowledge that she straight up sucks but never give Beard the push to leave her???? I just straight up do not get it.

In conclusion, I see the vision but the execution was horrible and I don't understand how this is supposed to stick the landing. I genuinely believe they'll announce a Richmond spinoff, especially given Ted's note on Trent's manuscript. Although I do not think that the team's future is anything like the one Ted dreamt about on the plane. Those were the wishes he had for them. I look forward to reading the fics where he's dead wrong and Rebecca drags him back by his moustache hair

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #roykeeley #keeley jones #roy kent #rebecca welton #tedbecca

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discocandles · 2 years

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y'know what I want? For Damian to accidentally make friends at school. And for basically no one to anticipate it, given Damian's distaste for school, his classmates, and believing "all of it is beneath me and my level of education up until now".

To be honest Damian feels stuck. Like he's watching his classmates from the outside, but can't find a way past the barrier. He's already characterized himself as a loner, and it's too late to turn back. Of course, he'd die before admitting to it.

Bruce is a little worried, given his son's... antagonistic tendencies. Dick tries to set him up to make friends, like having him join the teen titans. Steph will also try to find him friends, but it's her pointing at a person on their patrols, and "what about them?" Damian shoots than all down. It's a ritual. Duke wonders how it'll be when Damian's in high school too. should he invite damian to hang out with his friends? Would he want that?

But contrary to what the family and Damian believes he needed to do to make friends, it's barely any effort on his end. One day, he helped the guy next to him in science class, and then he finds himself a regular at a packed lunch table, and he knows everyone's name and least favorite vegetable.

Once he recognized his position as always being at that table, and joining their group text, he tried to distance himself. But the next class he was cornered by his two friends in art class, demanding to know where he was for lunch. Damian made something up about helping a teacher out, and spent the rest of the class doodling while slowly realizing he now has several friends who will notice if he's gone.

that afternoon, he walked into the batcave quietly, stated "I believe I have 'made friends' at school. Do not tell Grayson, I would prefer to inform him myself," then left. There was silence for 30 seconds until Jason spoke up "he can do that?"

"That's what I was thinking. Am I right, steph? Steph?" Tim turn around to see Stephanie giddily bouncing on her heels.

"Dami, Imma need more than this shit! Bruce, I'm patrolling with Dami tonight, even if you say no," She charged after her little brother. "can we tell Duke and Cassie?"

"I have already informed Thomas and Pennyworth. And you may inform Cain." Damian shouted back.

The shouts faded into the distance, and Tim cleared his throat "okay then, so about this case, Oh my god, Bruce are you crying?" Lo and behold, the Batman was wiping away tears.

"he's grown a lot."

"What the fuck? I expected this from Dick, but you're fucking crying too?"

"indeed I am, Jason. And you know Dick will be much worse." Bruce said. "Anyways, Tim what about this case?"

---

about 3 days later, Dick started blowing up everyone's phones asking about his birdie's buddies. Apparently when he came home from a mission in space there was a note on his kitchen counter that said "I made friends at school. Regards, Damian". If Damian had turned off his phone for a while after Dick got home, that was entirely coincidental.

---

He's closest to Colin Wilkes, the boy from science class(yes, I know Colin and Damian met before middle school, but idc. Dc ditched Colin so im bringing him back). Colin often drags (or pushes) Damian around Gotham after school lets out while he complains that they should be doing homework.

I think I'll make more on this later, but for now that's it for me.

#damian wayne #batfam #dc comics #is this in the same universe as costumer service voice Damian?#yes yes it is #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #colin wilkes #I should add more of Damian's canon friends here too #The ones dc has seemingly forgotten #But I think I should reread Gotham academy before that #Who knows #You can pry dami and Steph being besties out of my cold dead hands #the chronicles of damian's customer service voice

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velvetcloxds · 2 years

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UNSPOKEN DEVOTION | A.B.

Pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k words

Warnings: mutual pining, mention of parental death, breaking of societal rules (this sounds so serious gosh, they hug and whatnot)

Summary: your horse falling ill derails your traveling plans and leads you to dinner with your childhood best friend and his family, what confessions will be made when anthony aims to comfort you?

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The living room hummed with laughter as Anthony descended down the stairs, confused as to what could possibly have encouraged such joy on an otherwise quiet night, no more planned than a simple dinner with Lady Danbury, though all made sense when he turned the corner to see you rocking his nephew on your hip, laughing at something that Colin said.

“Miss Y/n,” he smiled, moving his hat to his other hand to prepare himself for your embrace, your lips mimicking his as Daphne took the baby from you.

“Am I to address you as Lord Bridgerton or Anthony while I curtsey?” you mused as you sauntered towards him, knowing that your smile would merely grow the closer you got.

“Anthony and you shall do no such thing, please, less you offend me greatly,” he warned and laughed lightly when you fell into his chest, an action so familiar, so comforting that he almost wished to keep you there for a moment longer. “You look lovely,” he noted as you pulled away, actions clearly as hesitant as his own as you stepped back to remain as proper as possible despite your relationship.

“You charm me.”

“Only slightly. I did not know that we would be having you as our guest.”

“Neither did I, I am afraid. I was traveling from the funeral and heading towards France when one of the horses fell ill, I thought all hope to be lost but was surprised to find we were but a town away from here,” you explained and was aware of the way the gentle buzz of excitement floated from the room almost instantly. “My mother would have scorned me for not writing to inform you of my plans to stay, I hope I am not imposing.”

“You could never,” Anthony promised, and your fingers fiddled with the hem of your gloves as his eyes raked over your face, carefully sifting through the emotions it held to determine what to say next, knowing you well enough to decipher which expressions were true and which were merely for his family’s benefit. “We were saddened to receive news of your parents,” he began and lifted a hand to your arm, squeezing lightly. “I wished to ride down and see you- “

“You need not explain yourself to me, Anthony,” your fingers formed around his wrist, thumb moving slowly against the material of his blazer. “Your letters were comfort enough,” your words though sincere, felt incredibly empty as they met his ears, and he would be sure to press you for the truth when he had a moment alone with you.

“Will Y/n join us for dinner?” Hyacinth asked after the silence in the room grew heavy, excitedly turning around with her knees planted on the sofa to see you. “She must come, Anthony, please?” she added and managed a perfect pout to sway the both of you in your answer.

“I do not wish to be any more of an inconvenience than I already am,” you objected for only him to hear, both of your hands falling out of reach as you cleared your throat.

“You are doing no such thing, Y/n. I am sure if Lady Danbury knew that you were in town, she would have invited you on her own accord, we shall be delighted to have you accompany us,” he promised and nodded lightly to encourage you to not decline the offer any further before you turned to his family with a smile.

“Very well, but I shall insist on riding with this little angel,” Daphne smiled as her son reached for you, giggling as you placed him on your hip, small hands gripping your dress as he giggled.

“It seems he insists as well, though I fear we are to be late,” Benedict noted as he ushered everyone out of the room, Anthony’s gaze lingering on you as you fell into step beside him, far too distracted by the child in your arms to notice him inspecting you once again and it was as though he could feel it, your pain, feel how tired you were from hiding it and he wished nothing more than to take it away from you completely.

There was an odd understanding amongst the Bridgerton family that no one was to say a word of the love you two shared until one of you were to acknowledge it. It seemed that despite years of friendships and countless troubles passed only by the other’s comfort, neither of you had the slightest idea that you were helplessly in love. There were moments where Violet would see it so clearly, in the way he held you but seconds longer than he should, in the way he smiled when you said his name or laughed when you acted silly and there were moments where she could feel it, in the way you lingered at his side as if you belonged there or the way he felt what you felt without much thought. She saw it tonight more than ever as you trudged through dinner with them.

You had no appetite, barely had the stomach to eat a single thing since your parents passed, but aside from that, it was clear that you were tired, there was no wit in your replies, no skip to your step, the children were the only ones to earn a true smile from your lips, the others were merely a notion, a gesture that was expected of you. You had grown up with her own children, she had considered you part of her family and if it hurt her seeing you like this, she dared not imagine what her son must have felt. He had not looked away from you all night, had not added to the conversation except for speaking on your behalf and he was dreading every second he could not pull you into his arms and promise you it would pass, the darkness would pass, and your light would return- his light would return.

Once the table had been cleared and compliments had been given to the cook, everyone had departed to the lounge for a drink and you stole a moment to get some air in the gardens, eyes closed, and arms wrapped tightly around yourself as your head leaned back to appreciate the wind that cut through your dress. It was not long before Anthony joined you, you had expected as much, but it was a relief to know that he was still a constant in what felt like a whirlwind.

“You looked as though you were cold,” he breathed as he stilled behind you, tapping your arms to guide them into his coat and you smiled as you fixed the collar, hands falling into the pockets as soon as you were done.

“You could not see me.”

“I had no need to, I simply know you,” he protested, and you shook your head at the loving arrogance, closing your eyes once again as you looked back to the sky, waiting for him to begin speaking, he had been waiting to speak since the moment he saw you and you had denied him of such for long enough. “I wish you would allow me to assist you in this time,” your eyes opened at that, head turning to look at him, dare him to say more though he did not, only frowning lightly at your state.

“You have, Anthony. I know it may seem trivial, but your letters have kept me sane, kept me grounded, truly, I need no more from you than to know you are here.”

“I can do so much more, Y/n, if only you would not object so stubbornly. If you would allow me your hand- “

“I do not wish to be pitied, Anthony, not by you.”

“You think this an offer of pity? I could never pity you, not when I know you. You persist on denying that fact, but it does not make it any less true. It is because I know you so well that I can tell you have reached your end, you had been strong and you had been graceful, but you cannot continue down this path on your own. Allow me the opportunity to be strong on your behalf?” you could see the tenderness in his eyes, the care, you could hear words spoken from a place in his heart he reserved only for you and it was yet another moment of many in which you doubted your friendship, because how could this be merely two people who care for each other when his words felt like an invite home after years lost at sea.

“Do you love me, Anthony?”

“What?”

“There are times that I convince myself that you do, that this persistence you have to take care of me is harboured out of love, but I can never be sure,” you sighed, turning away from him as you started down the trail of rose gardens, knowing that he would follow. “I echo the seconds we are alone and the world around me fades away, ponder the times you call me darling in your letters or write to tell me you miss me, I wonder if every lingering gaze or wondering hand means more to you as it means more to me,” you shook your head, turning to him in a rush as your gestured to him with a sigh. “I wonder if loving you would feel any different than it does right now, for I cannot remember a time when I did not feel as if I would crumble without you, without your presence in my life and I am terrified by the thought that you do not share my devotion, do not share this maddening, almost sickening desire to never part from you as long as I live,” your voice had been louder than you intended, desperate eyes meeting with his as you furrowed your brows. “So, I must know, before you ask me that question ever again, I must know if you love me, Anthony Bridgerton.”

“I do,” he began and stepped towards you slowly, trailing his eyes over the features of your face as he nodded, “But only when I look up at the stars. Only when the sun creeps into my windows when I wake. Only when the birds sing your song or the butterflies hover around the daisies mother had planted just for you. Only when I hear your voice as I am reading your letters or when I see your face in my dreams. Only when the children ask for you or mother tells me to invite you for dinner. Only every waking hour of every single day. Only when my heart beats in the cages of my chest. Only when I breathe,” he smiled as he gently removed your hand from the flower, holding your fingers within his own as his other hand tugged gently to free you of your gloves. “I knew love to be a myth, a feeling exaggerated for purposes of art or poetry. I had considered any man a fool for playing victim to a force so strong it robbed them of their rationality. Only, I was the fool, for I had not merely played victim to it, I surrendered to it so completely that I could no longer identify where I ended and where my love for you began. All my life I had loved you, Y/n, it was merely the question of when you would allow me to confess it.”

“All the times you asked me to marry you?”

“Were sincere,” he smiled, lifting your bare hand to his lips as he kissed your ring finger two times, looking at you through his lashes as you released a shaky breath.

“I am not a viscountess, I have not the faintest clue how to run a household.”

“It does not matter,” he protested and reached into his coat as it hung around your frame, shrugging at your questioning gaze. “You are what my family needs. You are what I need,” he pulled a small velvet box along as he retrieved his hand, flipping it open to reveal a ring you had heard multiple stories about, had adored from afar as Violet showed it to you while growing up. You gasped softly as you realized that he had it ready for you, waiting for you, always. “Allow me to be what you need.”

“You could have any woman in the world.”

“None of them would be you,” he protested and dropped the box to the floor as he held the ring in his hand. “Marry me?” he began and shook his head when you wanted to say more, only smiling as delicate tears cascaded down your cheeks. “Marry me, Y/n.”

“You love me?”

“More than a rational man should,” he noted and laughed softly when you rolled your eyes at him, breathing out lowly as you nodded, allowing him to slip the ring onto your finger, another kiss placed to the area as he squeezed you hand softly, humming when a gloved hand lifted to his chest.

“I love you,” you breathed and leaned into him carefully, throwing caution to the wind as you connected your lips with his, the feeling was magnificent, addictive, his hands moulded around your cheeks, attempting to savour the softness of your lips, the taste of you, the way your body melted against his as if he was created merely to be this close to you. He had no desire to end the kiss as you pulled away to breathe, soft pecks left to the side of your mouth, the peak of your cupid's bow, he wanted to have you like this forever and it drove him mad knowing that he could.

“Do not go to France,” he mused once you pushed him away slightly, needing a minute to ground yourself as he looked at you in the way you had only seen if your dreams. “I do not think I could bear watching you leave.”

“Am I to cater to your demands now, Lord Bridgerton?” you teased, and he scoffed, shaking his head as his hand managed to find yours once again.

“Only the ones that make you happy as well, Miss Y/l/n,” he teased in return and relished in the little gasp that fled from your lips when he stole another quick kiss from your lips, smirking as you hummed at the sensation.

“I have merely been your betrothed for a few seconds, and I am already under your spell,” you sighed, looking up at him as you rested your forehead against his. “Whatever have you done to me?”

“The very same that you have done to me, darling.”

all fandoms: @scandalous-chaos @the-blue-forest

bridgerton: @mirclealignr @saintlike78 @wrathspoet @esposamultifandom @murdockcastleslut @golden-hoax @littlsstuff @joline12829

other: @sarahisslytherin @leydileyla

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