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#eloise bridgerton moodboard

unfortunate-arrow · 7 months

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Phillip Crane and Eloise Bridgerton

Send me a 💗+ a couple and I’ll make a moodboard for them

#philoise #phillip x eloise #phillip crane #eloise bridgerton #my aesthetic #💗 moodboard ask game: answers #my assumption is that this was for this ask game

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onceupona-crossover · 2 months

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eloise (bridgerton) x belle (beauty and the beast) romantic moodboard with themes of books, falling in love, pink rose petals, teacups, and teapots

requested by: anon

- mod merida

#moodboard #crossover #crossover ship #non/disney #eloise bridgerton #belle beauty and the beast #bridgerton #beauty and the beast #wlw #romantic #falling in love #mod merida

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minim236 · 11 months

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You look so pretty and I love this view

Don't bother looking down

We're not going that way

girl in red & meloise

writer eloise and designer marina

#bridgerton #moodboard #lgbridgerton #marina x eloise #eloise x marina #modern bridgerton #meloise #Bridgerton aesthetic #girl in red #eloise bridgerton #marina thompson

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lowgrace · 11 months

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To Sir Phillip With Love. Julia Quinn

It is actually the 2nd time I read it. But I desperately needed a book that I new I would like. You know this feeling when you read a book and something is off: it is not like it is terrible, but it is just … okay. So, it was a first time ever for me rereading. And thaaaank god for that decisions.

My head was consumed with the story (even though I knew the outcome, I still forgot like 80% of everything). And I want to give the proper honours to the author! Julia Quinn is the master of building up tension, storylines. And I just love the character progression with my whole heart. I always thought of this book as a story of contracts (female/masculine perspective, introverted/extroverted sides of Eloise and Philip, growing/exploding, low-emotions/boiling with feelings).

The book:

Honourable mentions, to inner monologues of characters. It allows to connect to the characters on a new level (like you’re under their skin, if it makes sense).

The book:

so thank you JQ for an opportunity to write a longer review (finally), as your books were my gateway books to the genre.

(This book is not even my favourite of JQ, if I get to reread my favourites, the reviews will be in order, dah ). Cannot wait to see depiction of this book, and what they will change and leave to show people.

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thecaptainsgingersnap · 11 months

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Delphine Jezebel Victoria Anastasia Bridgerton

FC: Phoebe Dynevor

Fic Title: The Prince or the Pauper

Nickname(s): Del, Dellie

Sexuality: Straight

Pronouns: She/her

Career: None

Birthday: April 17, 1792

Height: 5'5"

Hair color: Strawberry blonde

Eye color: Brown

Place of Birth: Aubrey Hall

Hobbies: Reading, painting, playing the viola

Likes: Oranges, Ribbons, pall mall, dancing, picnics, dogs, her siblings, gossip, cornflowers, blueberry muffins

Dislikes: rain, corsets, mice, peas, math, small talk, Lady Featherington, bees, poison ivy, mud

Physical Quirks/Scars: Clumsy, slightly nearsighted

Family: Edmund Bridgerton (father, deceased), Violet Bridgerton (mother), Anthony Bridgerton (brother +8 years), Benedict Bridgerton (brother +6 years), Colin Bridgerton (brother +1 year), Daphne Bridgerton (older twin sister), Eloise Bridgerton (sister -4 years), Edmund Bridgerton II (@madebyleftovermuses and my OC) (brother -4 years), Francesca Bridgerton (sister -5 years), Gregory Bridgerton (brother -9 years), Hyacinth Bridgerton (sister -11 years) Honorary family: The Rokesbys, Lady Danbury

Friends: Penelope Featherington, Poppy Featherington (Haleigh' OC), Lydia Smythe-Smith, Kate Sharma

Love interest: Jefferson Thompson

Optimistic or pessimistic: Realist

Introvert or extrovert: Introvert

Favorite Animal: Hummingbird

Favorite color: Lavender

Favorite book: Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron

Favorite food: Chocolate cake

Background: For those not in attendance at the Vauxhall celebration, you missed perhaps the most remarkable coups of the season. It appears the Misses Bridgerton have captured the interest of the season's two most elusive gentlemen. It seems Miss Daphne Bridgerton has caught the gaze of the newly returned Duke of Hastings.Perhaps she is the season's most precious gem -- incomparable and unbreakable -- after all. Although, we cannot forget the feat accomplished by Miss Delphine Bridgerton. The so-called Sapphire of the Season was seen on the dancefloor not one, not two, but THREE times with the season's most mysterious gentleman, Mr. Jefferson Thompson. Does this author see a double wedding for these transcendent twins? Time will tell, dear reader. Until then, I remain yours truly. Lady Whistledown.

Taglist: @waterloou @veetlegeuse @miss-galaxy-turtle @gothicgirl100. @cecesxwickedxocsx

#bridgerton #Delphine Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #edmund bridgerton #my ocs #moodboard

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cauliflowertree · 1 year

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—moodboards

xmas date with eloise

#eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton moodboard #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

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fictionisanaddiction · 11 months

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Eloise Bridgerton moodboard

What if I want to fly?

#moodboard #aesthetic #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton

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catssparkle · 11 months

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MOOD BOARD

Character/aesthetic:

Anthony Bridgerton , Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton

Fandom:

Bridgerton

Songs I got inspo from?

I didn't really have any inspo for this one, i literally did it at like 2am tired af but yeah

Notes:

I mean I think this one was sort of cute but idk tbh

I just really love the family dynamic between all the family members in their family like omg

Anyways, once again don't be afraid to request a mood board for a character or aesthetic or thing or anything that pops up in your head!

#moodboard #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #the bridgertons #bridgerton moodboard #i have mixed feelings #idk if i like it

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butterflybuckethat · 2 years

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Wildflower

Notes: Gregory Bridgerton x Reader - I made a 🌾moodboard🌾 lol

Request: gregory pls

🦋 Masterlist 🦋

You pulled open the mahogany double doors of Gregory Bridgerton’s wardrobe as he argued with his mother downstairs. Violet chastised him for overworking her maids with all the tears and stains he returned home with in his white chemises. She wanted him to look presentable this evening for dinner, we were having guests apparently. It was a simple enough request but Greg always found the need to argue back. You were typically amused by these interactions but, when it came to Violet, you preferred he just do what she asked so you took the initiative upon yourself. You paid careful attention to the hems as that was where they were most often torn. You could still hear them exchanging words when you found the right one and were going to rush it down to them when a number of letters, with your name on them, scattered onto the floor.

“Gregory,” you spat, desperately holding back tears you would only allow to spill once you were alone, clutching the crumpled stack of letters “how could you?” You and Gregory had always been close, him being the Bridgerton closest to your age. Your families frequently summered together. You both resided in England, of course, but you mother felt as thought you could benefit from the camaraderie siblings afford, even for just the summer, as you were an only child.

You fit in well, slotting right in as Gregory’s twin menace. You ran amuck, the two of you, arm in arm-picking on the Bridgerton siblings and, if they weren’t available, your parents. Though this was the perfect dynamic for you both, it didn’t always mesh with the larger English society. You were always a little too loud, a little too sun-kissed, with muddy hems and bare feet. Gregory was your best friend, your other half, and you could forgive him anything, except this. This was unforgivable.

A few months ago, you and Francesca had join a little salon of sorts. The women who comprised it were mostly older, treating the gathering as an escape from their familial responsibilities, and politics were seldom spoken about but it was, nonetheless, incredible. They would exchange baubles and gossip as if it were air, playing cards and complaining about their husbands. Sometimes they would give you and Francesca instruction on how to attract a husband, teaching you how to handle a fan, drop your handkerchief, and take a turn about the room. You took to the advice slower than Francesca. A wicked streak ran deep in you both but she was something you definitely weren’t: malleable. She took to instruction like a fish to water, all while maintaining her wit and precocious air, and you were stuck in the mud.

Your carriage was late one evening. Francesca had offered to drop you off but you were certain it was just around the corner. The salon was in relatively low attendance so the two of you spent the majority of the evening speaking with that nights host, Lady Francis Eve. She was a rather eccentric woman, well adorned and always the first to know all the secrets of the ton. Lady Francis was widowed early in her life and produced no offspring, though she did have a truly incredible number of nephews. You were standing in her foyer, apologizing every so often for the tardiness of you ride, when she tapped her chin and said, “my nephew Peter would simply adore you.”

Three weeks later you received a letter addressed from Viscount Peter Bough containing only two lines: I sincerely hope you are the Lady Y/FN Y/LN my beloved aunt speaks so fondly of. If not, please disregard. You indulged of course, scribbling a little something in return, and so began a months long correspondence.

“Gregory,” you said again, weaker this time. It had been over a fortnight since you had last received a letter but you did send three. Your were left in something of a lurch. You had yet to meet Lord Bough in person, and he had hinted at perhaps coming to London, “with a ring” Eloise had joked. You thought that perhaps he had fallen ill, or his home had caught fire, or was killed in the ricochet of a duel.

“Please,” Gregory whispered, his large eyes wet. You felt a pang in your chest but steeled yourself, snatching the letters out of his hands and storming off into the gardens.

Though the Bridgertons keep their lawns and gardens well-manicured, but you preferred the tall grasses by the creek. That sliver sat between the Bridgerton property and the next, left completely untouched. You lied down, uncharacteristically uncaring of the wildflowers you crushed beneath you, and hid from the world. You couldn’t open the letters, not yet. You had always shared everything with Gregory and he must have hidden the letters for a reason. You stared at the sun until your eyes hurt and all you could see was purple.

“Y/N,” Gregory cast a shadow across your face, barefoot and collar untucked. He sat next to you, twiddling blades of grass between his long fingers. “My mother wanted me to tell you to get out of the sun.” You looked up at him, deadpan. “She didn’t, actually,” he coughed.

“You must be kidding.”

“You haven’t opened them,” he pointed at the stack of white envelopes scattered beside you.

“I don’t yet know why you hid them.” You still trusted him. How could you not? He was the one who snuck you sweets from the kitchen when you were kids, stood in front of you when the governess would chastise your muddy smock, kept you from feeling completely alone when you were ignored at luncheons and balls.

“Do you detest me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” You knew why you were upset. It wasn’t so much the violation of your property and privacy, but because you felt as if this were your shot. Never had any man in the ton shown you any genuine affection or interest, at least not one you would ever consider marrying, and you did want to marry. Lord Peter Bough was interested. This was the first time you had hope that you weren’t going to die an old maid. Only Greg knew of your guilty pleasure of trading the most ridiculous novels with the maids.

You sat in silence as the sun set, letters burning between you both. But you could feel him sticking little purple flowers in your hair, across the crown of your head and tucked into the loosened tresses from that morning. “You should read them,” Gregory said.

“Why?” you turned to face him, “what do they say?”

“I never read them.”

“Then why did you take them?”

“It’s been a month,” he shrugged. You waited for him to continue, building the silence until it forced him to speak, “Eloise...” he cleared his throat, “she made that comment,” he did it again, “about the ring.”

“Greg-”

“I haven’t seen you-”

“You have.”

“Not really, not like before.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, “you’re in your room, writing.”

“That’s how Eloise-”

“Found a husband!” he finished for you. You were going to say ‘spent her summers.’ Your cheeks burned red. What you were too embarrassed to admit, even to Gregory, was that you were hoping that you would. Eloise was also wild and outspoken but she, unlike you, had the cushion of good breeding. Not that you weren’t well bred, but not in any way that was comparable to the Bridgerton name.

“I am a woman, Greg. It is my prerogative to be married.” This might be the closest you would ever get to admitting your desire. It was embarrassing, craving romance to such a degree.

“Not you.” Your eyes burned and watered as you stood, so quickly you were likely to fall back down again. Gregory grabbed your wrist before you could run off, “wait.” You yanked your arm but he held tight. “I didn’t mean-”

“How-” you choked. It was as if a dam had broken, all the whispers and disapproving glances from the mamas, scoffs from your peers, disappointed looks from your own mother, just confirmed by the one person you trusted most. “How-” you sobbed. He moved to wrap his arms around you but you pushed him back, hard enough that he stumbled. “Why would you say that to me?” All that fear and pain was replaced by rage. Why not you? What made you less worthy of love than anyone else?

“That’s not-”

“I am deserving of love, Gregory.” You dug your finger into his chest, “is that so hard to believe? That a man would be interested in me? I am funny and kind and well-read...for the most part.” You lost steam pretty quickly. It was always like that, large bursts of emotion that fell just as quickly as they came. Gregory’s face broke, as if he were seeing you for the first time in years. He stepped toward you, snaking his arm around your waist and his hand on you cheek.

“You are deserving of more love than any one man can offer.” He pulled you close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours. “Certainly more than little Petey Bough can offer.”

It was dark and you could barely see one another but you knew what he looked like. The only lights were the distant one of the house and the yellow and green flickers of the fireflies that surrounded you. Your hear beat so loud you could hear it in your ears as you tentatively placed your hands on his chest. You could feel it steadily rise and fall.

“There is not a moment I do not think of you,” Gregory pushed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I took the letters-” he took a breath. “I took the letters because if Peter had any sense in the world he would ask you to marry him the moment her stepped foot in London,” he paused again, “and I don’t think I would be able to stomach it.”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him more than you wanted anything in your entire life. But he was all you had and you weren’t sure if you were ready to let go of life as it was.

“Greg?” Violet shouted from the house. You could make a life with Greg, you knew that, if that’s what he wanted. And you did want love, so so badly, but part of you was terrified, wondering if a future as an unwed maid would really be so bad.

“Master Gregory,” the deep voice of Smathers the butler startled you both.

“Smathers!” Gregory had jumped nearly two feet into the air, “make some noise next time, I beg of you.”

“My apologies, sir. Dinner is awaiting your presence.” You walked ahead, not waiting for the two men to catch up.

#Gregory Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton ff #gregory bridgerton imagine #gregory bridgerton x reader #gregory bridgerton x you #Bridgerton #bridgerton ff #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #Wildflower

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