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upstartpoodle · 3 years

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George x Elizabeth + hands

#poldark #poldarkedit #perioddramaedit #george warleggan #elizabeth warleggan #elizabeth poldark #elizabeth chynoweth #george x elizabeth #elizabeth x george #georgibeth #mine #my gifsets #sfw

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dinathalawriter · 2 years

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Fight me.

Elizabeth’s problem with George is HER adultery. She admires his business sense, his title (eventually), his letting her choose Ursula’s name (for her feminist aunt!), his manners, his putting their close family first [hey Ross?] his self control - she compares him to Francis and to HER FATHER, a real aristocrat (Chynoweth, since 9th century) and finds him WINNING.

Fight me.

#george warleggan #georgibeth #george x elizabeth #villain x villainess #poldark #dark

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adhdthomasthorne · 5 years

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George Warleggan + Text Posts

#poldarkedit #perioddramaedit #text post meme #george warleggan #jack farthing #georgibeth #poldark #otp: loneliness is not one sided

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blu-b · 7 years

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Rating: Mature Categories: F/M, M/M Fandom: Poldark (TV 2015) Relationships: George Warleggan/Elizabeth Warleggan George Warleggan/Ross Poldark (implied/mentioned) Additional Tags: Erotica Crossdressing Crossdressing Kink Gender or Sex Swap Sexual Fantasy Imagined Threesome - F/M/M Masturbation Bisexuality 18th Century setting Fashion kink (although that's more on the author's part) Language: English Words: 3830 Status: Completed Summary: George loves Elizabeth. He also loves fashionable clothes. One day, those two loves collide and the outcome is most surprising. Notes: The product of an intense day's work, this just needed to happen. I just have a thing for George in pretty dresses, okay? Also, I wrote a hetero pairing *gasps* The Warleggans rock! But there is some George/Ross implied and mentioned, I'm (not) sorry, I couldn't help it.

#poldark #george warleggan #elizabeth warleggan #ross poldark #george x elizabeth #george x ross #georgibeth #poldeggan #roleggan #gross poldeggan #elizabeth chynoweth #fanfiction #my writing #crossdressing #I just need george in pretty clothes okay #bye

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harry-leroy · 4 years

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For the sentence starters: Georgibeth + “I’ve been alone for so long I’m afraid I don’t know what it’s like not to be” or Warlenys + "I need you to trust me" please? :D

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for waiting. It has been wayyy too long since you sent this in, but I am finally (nearly) done with school, so I have time to actually catch up on fic prompts now. I ended up going to the Warlenys prompt, but I definitely want to write that Georgibeth prompt eventually. I hope you enjoy! Tagging my Warleggan family: @ticketybooser and @forcebros - love you guys <3

The scene which Dwight found as he entered Trenwith was a troubling one, though not for the typical reasons that he had come to expect upon his many visits with George over the past few months. Dwight had just entered the house, but George looked ready to leave it.

“Sir George,” Dwight stuttered as he spoke, still surprised at George’s well-fashioned appearance. “I was not expecting you to be…”

“What?” George spoke with his old terseness, straightening his cravat in the mirror. “Can a man not go on an outing with his family?”

Before Dwight managed to respond, Cary entered the room, appearing as though he were just finished with one errand before moving onto the next. The good doctor felt somewhat saved by Cary’s appearance. It was he after all who had called Dwight.

“Ah, doctor,” Cary began, sounding cordial for George before pulling Dwight aside and speaking in a lower tone, “I do not trust my nephew to go out like this. He seems unusually out of temper this morning. I thought it would be best to um…”

Dwight nodded, understanding his meaning. George did look nearly like his old self, as if none of the previous damage had even occurred, but there was the odd angle in the mirror that revealed dark circles under his eyes and the way his fingers trembled as he adjusted his clothes. By now, George was in good enough sense to understand the conversations his uncle had with Ralph Hanson through the door, but not enough to throw himself back into the endless workload he was wont to put on himself. He was impatient, itching to have his say in his own family business. It was only natural, after all.

“I will have a word with him,” Dwight said to Cary, who nodded in understanding, his shoulders relaxing somewhat upon hearing that he had made the right decision to call a doctor. Cary decided to take a step back to allow the doctor to do his work, but stayed in the room in case George tried to do anything rash. It wouldn’t have been the first time that such a thing happened.

“George,” Dwight began gently. “I am encouraged to see you motivated to make an outing. It is a great improvement from where we started, no doubt,”

“And?” George did not turn away from the mirror, but instead stared Dwight’s reflection down with those piercing eyes of his.

“Well,” the doctor began, not sure how to phrase his concern. “I believe this improvement is so great that it has caused your uncle a bit of concern. An outing to the church or perhaps even to Sawle village may be one matter, but anywhere else may be too much. You are still in recovery from considerable trauma, and as your doctor, I share your uncle’s concern,”

“Damn it, man!” George stamped his foot and swiftly turned on his heel. “I am treated like a child in my own house and now I must suffer the same fate outside of it. I can hardly hold a butter knife without unusual vigilance on my every move. Will I never be trusted again? Or must I be kept in the house… like a… spinster! Or a madman…”

It discouraged Dwight considerably to have George call himself a madman, and it was probably rather constricting to have Cary keep a hawk’s eye on him ever since he nearly fell off of the Nampara cliffs. He sighed.

“I understand your frustration, but you are not a madman. The mind may betray us in mysterious ways and your uncle only wants to keep you safe. I have no opposition to a small outing, but I should ask that I come with you,” Dwight said calmly.

George looked very nearly about to cry.

“Do you have any idea what this is like?” He asked, nearly losing his voice by the end of his question, pointing to his own head upon the word ‘this’. “I hardly feel like myself anymore and you’re not helping,”

“How might I be of help?” Dwight asked. He had expected some frustration from George given the nature of his illness, but by now even Dwight had to admit that he might have been a little frustrated too if in George’s position. He thought of Caroline in that moment, though wished he hadn’t.

“I need you to trust me,” George said. “I think I have enough sense now to tell when I am feeling alright and when I am not. I am feeling fine and would like to take a walk with my family. Is that too much to ask?”

“No, it is not,” Dwight said cautiously. “But I also need you to trust me. I have treated many such cases like yours and can tell you with confidence that it is unwise to go as far as you wish to go given the nature of your illness. So we shall make a compromise. I propose that we take a walk to Sawle village. Bring Valentine and Ursula along if you like,”

George relaxed a little. So did Cary, who had been watching this entire time.

“But, George,” the doctor reminded himself. “Now that you are on the mend, and I do truly believe you are on the mend, I must tell you that this will continue to be a battle you face for the rest of your life, and you must know when to take breaks. You cannot continue to push yourself to the brink of exhaustion. I understand your impatience to return to the world, but you must give yourself more time,”

His patient nodded. He knew it all too well. Some days he felt just as he had before, but in seconds it could all come back to him and he would fall into a frantic state for days on end. He still had a hard time controlling it, which is why he had Dwight to help him. Perhaps it would always be like that. It frustrated him, but for the moment, he let it go.

“Well,” Dwight said. “Shall we go? We’re fast losing light. I believe we shall be caught in the rain all the way out there,”

George nodded. “There are worse things than a little rain,”

#thank you so much!#this was fun to write #brotp: i was there #otp: i was there #s5 au #poldark #poldark fic #george warleggan #dwight enys #warlenys #poldark au #my fics #upstartpoodle

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letterfromtrenwith · 6 years

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For the fic ask meme: 20 + Georgibeth :D

20. Breaking the rules.

Sorry it took so long! Hope you like :D.

~

A lady must always behave with decorum.

Elizabeth doubted her mother’s definition of decorum would include a lady hiking up her skirts to kneel on the parlour carpet. However, when she had found George on his knees, holding out his arms to their little boy as he took his first, faltering steps into the world, she had not hesitated to join him. She added her voice to his encouragement, and shared a wide smile with him as Valentine toddler towards them, delighted by this new found adventure.

Man and wife should not sit together at dinner, or dance more than two sets at a ball.

She had always found such conventions ridiculous. They most likely suited her parents - her mother could escape the husband she found dull and embarrassing, whose only value was in his ancient name and what meagre fortune he had once possessed, while her father could spend a little time away from the constant barrage of complaints and criticism he had suffered for years. Elizabeth, on the other hand, far preferred the company of those close to her than the rest of society, with few exceptions. Even during the unstable early years of her first marriage, she would rather have spent her evenings with Francis by her side than most others. Now, she had even less patience for such things, and even more desire to enjoy her time with her husband. So, when George subtly contrived to have them at least seated opposite one another at some grand table, or gently took her hand to lead her to the floor for the third or even fourth time in a single night, she cared not one whit for what gossipy whispers it may provoke.

A lady never indulges herself.

This had been a piece of blatant hypocrisy on her mother’s part - frequently delivered before the consumption of a sugared almond, or over the top of yet another glass of sherry. That made it all the easier for Elizabeth to disregard this particular pronouncement more and more as the years went by. Any girlish over-concern for her figure had long fallen by the wayside. She was not, however, unconscious of the fact that some medical men would say her mother’s over fondness for the luxuries of life had likely contributed to her sad end. Her own love of walking and riding - not to mention the demands of a lively little boy - were in sharp contrast to her mother’s indolence, and more than compensated for the treats she allowed herself. Such things had been scarce for some years due to financial hardships, and she therefore savoured every sip of the brandy-laced chocolate George would order from the kitchens on especially bitter winter nights, and every bite of Mrs Brunswick’s confections delivered from Bath on her birthday or the last fancy he would slide towards her across the fine table cloth of the tea house. She savoured too the look in his eyes as she delicately brushed the final spot of sugar from her lips.

A lady must quietly endure her wifely duties.

Cold and fussy as she was, Elizabeth’s mother had never seen fit to regard the physical aspects of marriage as anything but a detestable necessity, and had certainly not discussed them with her daughter beyond some rather vague statements the night before Elizabeth’s first wedding. She had therefore entered into her married life with only the slightest notion of what occurred privately between man and wife. It had taken her a fair while to discover that it was not to be ‘endured’, but enjoyed. Time, age and the birth of children, particularly her two youngest, had lessened her inhibitions and uncertainties, and her mother would no doubt consider her absolutely scandalous in the way she enticed George into their bed with soft, pleading kisses and gentle, wandering hands. Not to mention how she clung to him, chasing her pleasure and his, and murmuring her satisfaction in his ear. Or the unashamed way she would stretch out next to him, hair loose and body bare, basking in the afterglow of their love.

A proper lady must marry a proper gentleman.

There were some who might take issue with the latter word in description of George – some who frankly were in no position to pass judgement on others – but there were few who could deny him the word ‘proper’. It had been his oddly formal manner which had intrigued Elizabeth when they first met and, although this had softened over time, he was still unfailingly polite and correct. The haughty, aristocratic manner he adopted was as much an attempt to keep others at arm’s length as it was to blend into the society in which he moved. There were few, if any, who could say that had ever seen George less than flawlessly turned out, less than rigidly formal and coldly remote. Few except her. She was the only one who had really seen him - unbound, unbuttoned, undone. It was a secret delight of hers, to know him as none before had. Peculiar how the most proper man she had ever known made her want to be the most improper woman she had ever been.

#poldark #george warleggan #elizabeth warleggan #george x elizabeth #fic #f: ge #m: fic

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upstartpoodle · 2 years

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An oldie but unfortunately I didn't have time to do a new one this year since I was feeling a bit under the weather. Anyway a very merry Christmas to all of my lovely followers and best wishes for the new year! I hope you have a lovely day! Xx

#merry christmas!#mine #my fanart #poldark #my fan art #poldark fanart #poldark fan art #george warleggan #elizabeth warleggan #georgibeth #george x elizabeth #sfw

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dinathalawriter · 2 years

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