20 January 2014

Not the Flower of Courtesy

Content Warning: Click here for warnings (possible spoilers)

**NSFW**

"There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts."

February 23rd


Pan was determined not to be bored. Business was slow tonight, surely because of the weather. Snow and ice made sneaking out for a screw too much for most people. He understood. He had never liked to be outside in the snow himself. If he ever decided to uproot again, he was going someplace warm. He hadn't had much choice last time.

Younger Than She

"For what is wedlock forced but a hell?"

February 19th

As the sun set on her eldest's birthday, Goneril had retreated into her study. Children's birthdays were even worse than her own for reminding her of her age. Miranda was twenty-two, which meant Goneril was forty-four. She would be married twenty-five years come May. Twenty-five years was more than half of her life; in turn, that meant she had spent more of her life married to Albany than not. For all of that, she hadn't even the consolation of a married heiress; Miranda was as stubborn and childish at twenty-two as she had been at sixteen.


That, unlike age, was something Goneril could change.

29 December 2013

Makeovers: Gender-Bender Edition

You nominated, I procrastinated. With no further ado, some genderbent Veronese for your viewing pleasure:

09 December 2013

What Say You to My Suit?

"Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie."

January 28th


Anne drummed her fingers against her thigh. It had been snowing in Verona for nearly two days, trapping everyone inside her uncle's house. She wasn't a lover of the outdoors by any means, and she couldn't find any fault with the house itself. It was much finer to Anne's eye than her cousin's house, where they had stayed from summer until Christmas. If she had to admit to it, the real trouble was being trapped in the house with her mother. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not in the habit of brooking disappointment, and their journey to the capital was in danger of being an immense one. The original plan had been to return home after her cousin's wedding, which was now only a week away. Time was running out. Being snowbound at Fitzwilliam House would be a dream to her back in lonely, dreary Varainsee. 

There was really only one thing to do. She needed a husband to anchor her here. Anne didn't think she should have to do it, but it was the only plan she had. Either she lowered herself or she went home with her mother.