I really do need the people complaining about Bridgerton S5 by saying people should just make original sapphic stories to take several seats because studios have and they do and in most cases the general public’s lesbophobia makes sure it’s canceled after a season. This is a Shonda Rhimes show with a sixth season after this one already confirmed, we are seeing this story play out, likely for 3 more seasons (sure they’ll be background after this next one but still) and that’s fucking miraculous.
(RIP to ALOTO you could have been so good.)
I’m not sure what this specifically pertains to as in what I’ve said/posted, but yes! Totally agree.
I loved the movie A League of Their Own as a kid, and I suspect the underlying queerness appealed to me before I had a word for it. (Also I was in love with Geena Davis.)
So the new ALOTO was an amazing adaptation. I loved its candidness and unabashed queerness. I’m forever obsessed with how well they captured the fact that the etiquette classes, etc. weren’t to “keep women women for when their husbands return” (paraphrased reason used in the movie), rather, it was—as one of the real life women who played said—to make women who were clearly queer look passably straight.
But of course it was canceled. “Why bury your gays when you can just cancel them???” Coming out of Warrior Nun where they managed to do BOTH crushed me. I’ve read so much fanfiction to replace canon in my head.
So I think it’s a huge deal that Bridgerton will be centering a sapphic couple that will involve zero risk of them dying. Such a low bar, but something like a 30% death rate of sapphic characters is unbelievably harmful and this should only mark the beginning of balancing that out.
Anyone still making a stink is a fragile heterosexist. It’s undeniable homophobia, but they think homophobia is only when someone commits a hate crime. (This is tied to censorship and will likely post more on this soon.) Never once have any of those people showed up for queer women in the way they show up for [checks notes] a fictional man.
Tbh I am trying to minimize even thinking about the haters. They want attention and I will no longer give it unless I feel they are a direct threat to others. I cannot change their mind when they get into comment sections with a vendetta. So I just let them run rampant. They can get their beloved show canceled if they want—I’ll be watching season 5 on repeat. Season 5 could be a horrible season and it will still not stop me.
We deserve representation. We deserve community. We deserve to see our love without tragedy. We deserve good things.
So I will take a page from Shonda’s book here and focus on putting out queer joy instead of fighting people who wish to insulate their ignorance with their small-minded false logic.
I don’t want this to be something I don’t talk about because it does matter, but I also don’t want to partake in ongoing debates that I have watched turn quite nasty in some situations.
So here is what I shared on Reddit. Totally willing to clarify anything, but questions that even slightly come across as an opportunity to argue will be ignored. This is simply what I believe based on my personal experience and how I relate to Francesca:
(Loooong post of me waxing poetic about hard relating to Francesca:)
When I was 18 (closeted) I thought I was in love my best friend in college. I thought “He’s kind, patient, and attractive. He knows how I like my coffee. We can spend hours together just talking. He makes me laugh. Yeah this must be love. I want to kiss him, I guess.” We never even kissed because he was in love with his now-wife (who hated me at the time, which is fair for teenagers). I truly deeply love that man to this day, and I know now how deeply profound platonic love can be. If that fking boy died in his late 20s, I would be inconsolable. (I lost two of my boy friends in 2018 within 6 months of each other, and that was one of the worst years of my life.)
(cw: comphet bf) But then I had a boyfriend at 19, who I liked—he was nice, funny, liked taking me places. We kissed one night, then kept kissing because he was a good kisser and it was fun. Then we had sex. It was… not what I thought I was supposed to feel. I was in my head the entire time thinking, “Why am I not enjoying this?? What is wrong with me??” Blamed it all on romanticized love scenes misleading me, on my own nervousness like I was forgetting my lines on stage.
We eventually broke up. I came out as bi to most my friends by the next school year, and I flipped my ally status to bi in the campus queer organization. Although I had seen her before, I remember finally noticing the girl I would love for 5 years of my life. She was across from me in a meeting, and she said “Well, I put the bi in bitch,” and everyone laughed as I looked at her, I imagine, in the same way Francesca looks at Michaela. I was supposed to be running the meeting, and I absolutely fumbled the facilitation.
A couple weeks later we kissed on a rooftop, and it was like a chord struck in my chest without the unresolved dissonance that I felt kissing boys. We were shivering because it was cold, but I was also trembling because until then, I still thought I had romanticized everything and that poets were liars (as a poetry writer/lover, we still are but not intentionally). But feeling the truth of her lips against mine was an awakening. Even as we shivered, we dealt with it because we didn’t want to stop kissing each other under the night sky away from the party below us.
When we had sex, even when I didn’t have a pinnacle, her touch seemed to thrum through me. I suddenly knew what Whitman meant by “the body electric.” While achieving orgasm is absolutely fantastic, in my opinion, I realized the leisurely way in which we enjoyed one another’s bodies removed worry and there is a euphoria in touching and being touched without a proverbial finish line sight. It is not even about achieving that pinnacle. Being present in my own body and feeling the warmth and softness of another, feeling her pulse, hearing her breath? What a beautiful fucking gift.
I went on to date some men, but that electricity was always absent. I didn’t come out as a lesbian until 7 years after first coming out.
All this is to say Francesca loved John so much. I don’t see her reaction to their first kiss as being insulting; I think finding it offensive is rooted in heterosexism, as if even fictional men deserve reassurance from women at all times, that a woman expressing anything but a proper response is shameful, that a woman is expected to maintain a façade for men’s sake. (Ironic considering many who take offense to this claim to love Eloise, an adamant feminist who doesn’t hide her emotions at all.) I think Francesca felt how I did after that kiss—Oh… that does not feel as others told me it would. What is wrong with me? It wasn’t an active hatred but a concerning discovery, or lack thereof.
But John was still her best friend. They loved each other deeply. She found peace and safety in his company. He listened to her. He gave her space to hear her own voice. He gave her reassurances when she questioned herself. He knew when she was performing how she thought he wanted versus when she was being herself—because he loved her as she was. He understood her like no one else. And she loved him so much. Having often felt outside her family, he stood outside with her so they both could be heard. She loved him so much, she was constantly worried about being a good wife to him because that is how she was taught to express her love.
So when people say she has to be bi to have really loved John, I feel rather offended—How dare you deny the value and depth of my love in its various forms? But we do all feel very differently in relationships! There is no right way to feel, and you only owe yourself the honesty of your body and heart.
TLDR: I relate to Francesca a lot as a lesbian and think she is a lesbian. But Francesca will be 21/22 next season (an age I still identified as bi) and due to the terminology, I doubt we will have explicit confirmation. So I will not fault anyone for saying Francesca is bi, for relating to Francesca and believing her to be so.
I will, however, disengage from arguments about it. I have seen things get nasty with plenty of bi- and lesbophobia being directed at others. These arguments get tense and involve a lot of things close to the heart. With how much hate is outside of the franchaela fandom, I very much would like more people to put distance between themselves and this topic if it’s becoming regularly hurtful, or even block people if needed.
TLDR(Again): We are all here for franchaela and are all in agreement that franchaela is endgame. “Love is always a thing to be proud of.”
One thing I definitely hope they keep in the remaining seasons of Bridgerton is the occasional focus on the “regular” people. The servants and such. Because Francesca forging bonds with the staff of Kilmartin house while deep in her grief could be such a grounding plot point. The Scottish staff so completely unbothered by Francesca’s relationship with Michaeala because of it “yes we have two Countesses what of it? Go mind your own fucking business.”.. idk it would just be fun.
In another episode of "I’m so bad at remembering to check my Asks" and THEN "Sorry, this ended up turning into an entire short fic/drabble(?) that sat in my drafts..."
But yes, Anon! I absolutely agree. In my headcanon, Francesca and Michaela have both watched lords be needlessly rude to servants and do not find power or dignity in acting that way, so their staff go hard for their Countesses.
I’d love to see a Scottish-working-class code-switch too, where the maids and footmen, who sort of reel in their accents out of propriety, just let it rip at the local tavern.
Sooooo... I wrote a thing!
Please know that I don't know how to write Scottish English, so just use your imagination. Apologies to any Scots. Also, since there is no clear differentiation between two Countesses of the same region from what I could find, I have decided to use Lady Michaela and Lady Francesca, but together as the Countesses of Kilmartin. Idk, I do what I want (hides the 16 open tabs about things I didn't even include in this, e.g. regency era mail).
Anyway, this is dedicated to Anon for the ask and @daskum for often receiving these half-baked ideas I write.
//
As the newest addition to the staff, hired only two weeks ago, Lydia looks down the long table in the tavern to take in the scene of her fellow maids and footmen outside the context of Kilmartin. They are proving to be the characters she suspected, and she finds herself smiling amusedly at their antics, aided by the ale and mead they've all consumed.
Though Kilmartin is expansive, as to be expected for an Earl's estate, it is maintained with only the minimum required number of servants. There are a little over a half-dozen maids and footmen, a head groundskeeper, and Mrs. Beaumont, the housekeeper since the first Lord Stirling was Earl of Kilmartin. According to Mrs. Beaumont, the Countesses prefer the small staff since they are easy enough to tend to, whether in Scotland or London, and it allows them to pay their staff handsomely compared to other servants' meager wages.
When Lydia briefly worried if the others would resent her for affecting their pay, Mrs. Beaumont assured her that was of no concern.
"Lady Michaela had all but insisted we hire another maid, reassuring us our allowances would remain the same."
Lydia learned that when Lady Michaela first inherited her peerage, she sent a letter to her mother and Mrs. Beaumont in Kilmartin, asking them to oversee immediate renovations: The new Countess of Kilmartin would not be returning to Kilmartin for some time, so she wished to expand the servants quarters, giving every servant their own room and a shared space for them to gather in the colder months. In her absence, she entrusted the estate to her aunt and mother, the Dowager Countess of Kilmartin and Mrs. Helen Stirling, maintaining communications over larger decisions via letter.
The Countess also advised them that Lady Francesca, also Countess of Kilmartin, would still occupy the quarters reserved for the Earl and Countess, and the rooms should remain tended to, even in her absence.
Then, just some months ago, Lady Michaela hired temporary staff to reopen and refurbish several disused parts of Kilmartin for larger quarters for her aunt and mother. In addition to that, she also revived the guest rooms and designed the conversion of one of those rooms into a nursery.
"Lady Francesca has a large family with many nieces and nephews, and Lady Michaela wishes to always have rooms ready to host so that they may spend as much time with them as possible. Although hosting children in Kilmartin can be demanding, it does wonders for the spirit," Mrs. Beaumont explained.
"Mr. Benedict Bridgerton's son, Charles, is a menace," Footman Frederick added as he entered the kitchen with Footman Paul, "He demanded I be his Footman and take him all about Bridgerton House. I was his footman and horse and carriage! But luckily Mrs. Sophie is generous with tips."
"Well, she was one of us," said Footman Paul. "Imagine a Bridgerton loving a servant so much, they find a way to marry... Perhaps Miss Hyacinth—AH! Ow!"
Mrs. Beaumont swatted his shoulder with a nearby wooden spoon. "Miss Hyacinth is a woman of status, also with taste, Paul," Mrs. Beaumont warned with a scolding, motherly tone, "She will marry for love, but that love is reserved for well-bred men of the ton. Women do not have such luxury to consider a servant as Mr. Benedict."
"The laws are changing though! Look at the Countess—" Miss Tabitha said as she walked past to start preparing tea, but she silenced herself when Mrs. Beaumont raised the spoon again.
Tabitha mostly assists Michaela's mother and aunt with Mrs. Beaumont, and once Mrs. Beaumont has overseen Lydia for another month, the Countesses will be her and Miss Mary's primary responsibility. Tabitha and Mary assure Lydia almost daily that the Countesses are kind and forgiving, so there is no reason to worry. "They can be quite... independent..." Mary had added with a small giggle, earning her a light elbow to the ribs from Tabitha.
They are indeed independent in many ways, often only requesting the minimum from staff. Because there are no men other than footmen or visiting Bridgertons, Lydia has noticed how unique her position is and finds it hospitable. She cannot help but worry there is some secret that will reveal itself, proving this is all too good to be true.
But Lydia only keeps learning things about the Countesses that proves they are more honorable than any other nobility would ever admit. From what Mrs. Beaumont has said, with fondness, Miss Michaela Stirling, in her youth, was a source of stress for her mother and aunt, but the young—at the time, Viscount—John Stirling always seemed to know how to balance the family, kept everyone at peace.
Then there had been the mourning period after Lord Kilmartin's unexpected death, when Lady Michaela had traveled about the globe for two years and Lady Francesca stayed with her family most of the year. The staff kept the room ready regardless, as Lady Michaela had requested.
The spring before Lady Michaela's return to London, upon word that Mr. Beaumont, Lord Kilmartin's butler, had been injured while tending to the garden on the estate, Lady Michaela replied by mail with a signed retirement pension. Once she returned to Kilmartin with Lady Francesca in her company at the end of that season, the first decision made by Lady Francesca, Countess of Kilmartin, was to have a modest home built on the outskirts of the estate, for when Mrs. Beaumont would join her husband in retirement.
Such generosities are unheard of amongst other royal families, but even in the first two weeks of her time at Kilmartin, Lydia has learned that the Countesses and Stirlings make such gifts commonplace—that is, after all, why they are all at the neighboring village's tavern this evening. After dinner was served, Lady Francesca politely dismissed the staff and said their service would not be needed until the next afternoon.
Paul knocks his mug into Mary's and Lydia's, his eyes glossy and smile crooked. "Has Mrs. Beaumont been giving you a hard time?"
Mary laughs, "Just a bit more than her usual, but it shall pass once Lydia has learned the particularities and takes over with the Countesses."
"Is there still much to learn?" Lydia asks, a tad nervous for the mead-inspired, loose-lipped truth.
Mary's cheeks are tinged pink as she faces Lydia to give her full attention, putting on an exaggeratedly serious expression, "Lady Francesca is specific but not unkind. Do not mistake her short phrasings to be indicative of her feelings toward you," Mary explains before sipping her mead.
"All of us could arrange Kilmartin to her liking with our eyes closed at this point," Paul says in reassurance. "It will become familiar to you quickly."
"It is easy enough to look after Lady Francesca, so long as you do not misplace a jigsaw and affect the Countesses' games on Thursdays," Mary says with a laugh. "If you forget something specific pertaining to Lady Francesca's preferences, you may ask us. If you must, and she is not too preoccupied, Lady Michaela can also tell you—she knows Lady Francesca best, after all."
Lydia is about to inquire about their relationship over the past year since the Countesses have been granted the Kilmartin peerage and formally recognized by the Queen, but a drunk footman chooses that moment to loudly taunt the table.
"Careful around those ones," he says, to another footman in his company, his Scottish tongue immediately obvious to Lydia, something her mother trained her to forget so she would appeal to more English nobility as a maid, "If you spend too much time around those Kilmartin folk, you might attract some mollies."
Fredrick, who had been immersed in a jovial conversation with Tabitha, nearly slams his mug down on the table. They, too, had slipped back into their Scottish tongue as they drank and spoke familiarly. (Mary has managed to keep her Welsh accent hidden for the most part, but she has been consuming her mead at a slower rate than most. Paul, who grew up between Scotland and England, mostly just has an ambiguous slur to his speech.)
"Don't," Tabitha whispers, watching as Fredrick clutches his mug tighter. Lydia can tell that this is not the first time Fredrick has responded to another footman in such a manner. "He does it to get to you."
"I know," Fredrick says through clenched teeth, chest rising and falling with steadying breaths.
Paul chimes in with a grin to hopefully calm his friend, "Let's focus on having a good night. They're envious that we practically get weekly outings when they get one per fortnight if they're lucky."
Paul follows Fredrick's glare as the other footman smirks before gulping from his ale. Lydia briefly believes they escaped further issue, but then the footman calls out, "I'm no queer, so you can stop lookin'."
Fredrick abruptly stands then, knocking over the small bench he was sitting on. Paul rushes to fix the bench, but no one else moves for a moment except those turning their heads to watch.
Fredrick looks down at Tabitha, sighs, then raises his mug with a smile, "A round of ale for everyone! All thanks to the Countesses of Kilmartin!"
Despite their state, Lydia believes their table may be the most sober out of the two dozen people in the tavern, so when they all cheer and return to their conversations, she breathes a sigh of relief.
Fredrick pours all his coin into his palm to count it out and hands almost all of it to the barmaid as she pours ale for the table. He grabs an extra mug before approaching the other footman.
"Dumb bastard," Paul mutters as he watches, taking a heavy drink of ale as the footman stands to meet Fredrick.
Fredrick still has a large grin on his face when he stops in front of him, "Footman Peter."
"Fredrick."
Fredrick huffs a laugh at the presumptuously familiar greeting and puts the mug of ale down on the table beside him, "You work for Viscount Fairfax, if I'm not mistaken," he squints, as if trying to recall, but Lydia can tell it is for show.
"Aye, as my father did."
Being the closest to Footman Peter's table, Lydia is unceremoniously shoved by Mary to the end of her bench to have a better listen.
"Ah, yes, it is a shame, is it not, that Lord Fairfax was hit with such strife last harvest? In fact, I remember the Countesses of Kilmartin made a great point to secure rations for your province."
"I would not say—"
"I would not say more, Footman Peter." Lydia suspects that without the need for propriety, Fredrick is no longer being careful with his words or voice, his Scottish giving his words power as he says them firmly. "It was a generous amount, as I oversaw the rations being sent out. And this was after Viscount Fairfax's son, the Honorable Douglas Fairfax made quite the spectacle last season in London, did he not? Why, I believe Lady Whistledown even wrote of it."
Peter's face turns an embarrassing shade of red.
"So please, enjoy this ale afforded by the wages those queer Countesses have granted us," he says with a smirk. Peter gives a small nod. "They have treated us, and many others, with kindness. Do not mistake their generosity and forgiveness as my own. I simply ask that you mind your manners," Fredrick says slowly, poking his finger into Peter's chest with each of his last few words, then dropping his last coin into Peter's coat pocket and patting his shoulder condescendingly. "If not…" he says, his smile wide as he steps back, "well, I'll put your own blood in your mouth next time instead of ale."
..
The next morning, Mrs. Beaumont is pouring Chinese tea meant to help after too much to drink. Most of the staff eagerly drinks it as they sit silently in the kitchen.
Fredrick appears, groaning as he sits beside Lydia.
“Did you spend all your coin last night?” Mrs. Beaumont asks, knowingly, pouring some tea for him.
Fredrick grumbles a response.
“You got to stop doing that," Paul says, shaking his head with a light laugh.
“You know how he gets,” Tabitha says, giving Fredrick's arm a gentle squeeze, “So defensive of his Countesses.”
“You would be too if you were me!" Fredrick says defensively, "I went to war, only to come back to work for some old bat, giving me contradictions as commands and getting furious with me. I’ll serve Kilmartin for the rest of my days!”
“That is nice to hear,” says a sing-songy voice, descending the stairs. Lady Michaela appears with a bright smile. The staff jumps to stand, but she quickly waves them off for them to sit. "You are not working, and if anything, I am in your domain. So please, do not let me interrupt your leisure... Or, based on the tea I brought back from China, let me not interrupt your needed recovery," she says with a chuckle, walking through the kitchen with a familiarity Lydia has never seen a noble possess.
Lydia quietly offers again, "Countess, I am still able to assist if—"
“Drink your tea, Miss Lydia," she says kindly, "I assure you my title is not under any threat, nor is your position here if I retrieve my own breakfast," She disappears into the pantry, so Lydia sits back down and sips her tea. She had never seen green tea before, but she must admit it is delicious and another example of the Countesses' seemingly endless generosity.
They can hear her gently humming as she gathers breakfast, likely a tune they have heard Lady Francesca playing.
A moment later, Lady Michaela reappears with a basket, and Lydia can make out some fruit, bread, and some pastries the cook had made last night before departing—a favorite of Lady Francesca's that Lady Michaela had specifically requested.
“We are taking a promenade to enjoy breakfast and some fresh air," she announces, her smile never leaving her face. "You are welcome to continue as you are. We will only need tea in the drawing room in the late afternoon. Benedict and Sophie are expected to arrive with their children some time later today, so the guest chambers should be attended to as well."
“Yes, Countess," Mrs. Beaumont says with a nod. "I made lemonade this morning for Lady Francesca as well."
"You do spoil us, Mrs. Beaumont," the Countess replies with a grin, taking the lemonade and basket and ascending the steps.
Fredrick watches with an expression of adoration, but not the kind a suitor possesses when looking upon a love match, rather, how a younger brother looks to an older sibling, like gratitude.
Lydia can make out the sound of Lady Francesca's footsteps approach the top of the stairs. "That's perfect, darling," she hears her say, her voice warm and quiet but just as cheerful sounding as Lady Michaela's.
“Is the Countess usually this pleasant after granting us an evening and morning to ourselves?” Lydia eventually asks as you hear their footsteps grow distant.
Paul snorts into his tea, then choking on it and sputtering after Fredrick kicks him under the table. He clears his throat, standing and wiping down the front of his waistcoat. “Mrs. Beaumont, we trust you may explain with more grace than we could ever achieve,” bowing with exaggeration. Fredrick rolls his eyes but finishes his tea to dismiss himself as well.
Mrs. Beaumont practically shoos them out of the kitchen before she sighs and looks at Lydia. “We are very privileged here at Kilmartin. Out of respect and duty, we practice discretion. The Countesses tend to be pleasant at all times, and they never direct any frustrations toward us that are not a result of our work or error. Even if there are disputes amongst family or politics, as long as we are doing our work accordingly, we do not face undue consequences."
Lydia nods in understanding, seeing Mary and Tabitha quietly sipping their tea and sharing glances.
“And quite regularly, they enjoy time to themselves at Kilmartin, and it allows us time for leisure. Lady Michaela used to travel often, so she is quite independent. Lady Francesca gives plenty of notice of any of her needs.
“You will notice, if you have not already, how… comfortable they are in one another’s company. It may not be common, and you may not understand it, but you do not need to understand to appreciate your work here. To appreciate them."
..
Later, Lydia is tidying the drawing room, refamiliarizing herself with the space so she may attend to any needs when they have tea or upon the arrival of Mr. Benedict and Mrs. Sophie Bridgerton. She peers out the window when she hears laughter.
Though Lydia is sure Lady Michaela can charm and smile her way through any conversation, Lady Francesca is more reserved, so Lydia is surprised to see her laughing loudly as they follow the worn path back to the entrance. Her face is bright with a grin, so large that Lydia can see it from a distance. She has not seen such a smile in the two weeks since she arrived to Kilmartin, so she finds herself entranced by it. Lady Francesca Kilmartin is beautiful, as anyone with eyes would know, so Lydia finds herself wondering why no suitor in all of the ton was to Lady Francesca's liking on her brief return to the marriage mart.
Before the Countesses round the corner, Lydia watches as Francesca reaches toward Michaela, lacing their fingers together and lifting them to kiss the back of Michaela's hand. Michaela smiles, saying something quietly that Lydia cannot make out, but Francesca looks almost bashful, inspiring a laugh from Michaela who pulls her closer.
Rather than respond, Francesca ducks down to kiss Michaela's cheek. Lydia expects her to pull away, for them to share another joke, but instead, Michaela's voice utters something softly, and Francesca leans back in to press her lips to Michaela's. Lydia realizes she's holding her breath as she watches their lips part, only slightly deepening the kiss with a breath shared.
When they part, Michaela opens her eyes as if cautiously waking from a dream, only to find she is still awake.
Francesca says something else not long after, and Michaela lets out a boisterous laugh. Francesca has a proud grin on her face as they keep their hands joined and disappear around the corner.
There is a slight clearing of the throat behind Lydia, causing her to jump.
Tabitha gives her a small, knowing smile. "Would you help me bring up the tea and biscuits?"
"Yes, of course," Lydia says, her cheeks warm now that she knows she was caught watching the Countesses share a private moment.
As they descend the stairs, Tabitha takes Lydia's elbow and stops her. "I know Mrs. Beaumont introduced this to you this morning," she says quietly, "But she is rather old-fashioned with how she speaks of it. She is trying to be gentle and not to overstep, but I speak freely of it because I see the Countesses' restraint often—When they wish to reach for each other on promenade in Mayfair, when they wish to kiss goodbye as her siblings do their spouses. But they trust us here to perhaps not understand completely, but to understand enough that they can love one another in the open, at least here."
Tabitha keeps quiet as Lydia contemplates her words. "Has my arrival changed this?"
"Yes, but not as a judgement of your character, rather for your comfort as you learn a lot of unique ways Kilmartin works."
"I have never known a woman who... desires other women in that way, but I have heard of it, so it is not completely foreign. If the Queen has looked upon them and trusted their character to grant them both the title of Countess, then who am I to judge?"
Tabitha laughs lightly as she nods, then continues the descent to the kitchen with Lydia following. "It is no different from the love her brothers possess for their wives, or her sisters possess for their husbands. If anything, what they have been through has made them more... everything. More sincere, more grateful. They are kind women, but most of all, they are brave."
"And very passionate," Mary adds, already at the stove heating up water retrieved from the well. Her lips quirk as Tabitha let's out a loud laugh.
Lydia just raises an eyebrow in question, and Mary sighs before clarifying. "They are not reckless in the passion, as they will share a kiss in front of us when parting ways or will hold hands in the drawing room together."
"To be expected from lovers, of course," Tabitha says, retrieving the tea.
"I just warn you that... if we are given the night off, and you wish to stay at Kilmartin for the evening, do not use that time to try to get ahead of tomorrow's duties or seek out the Countesses for anything."
Lydia turns to Tabitha who is smothering her laughter.
"I... found them in a... passionate embrace, one evening in the first month of being hired," Mary explains, her ears turning pink.
Tabitha manages to keep her laughter brief, "I am not sure who apologized most amongst the three of them for the next three weeks."
"I thought I was going to lose my job!" Mary huffs.
"Well, tell Lydia what happened instead."
Mary blushes even more deeply but lifts her chin to answer, "I broke off my engagement because not once had my fiance ever done such a thing for me."
"Done... what?" Lydia asks.
Tabitha takes a seat to smother her uncontrollable giggles in her arms.
"I have said enough. But you can read well enough, yes?"
Lydia nods.
"Great, I shall lend you a copy of Sappho's poetry."
"Poetry?"
Paul appears, grabbing a biscuit that the cook had set aside for them, "Ah, we've reached that point already?"
Fredrick appears shortly after, insisting on taking the biscuit Paul has bitten into just to annoy his friend.
Mary pulls a face at Paul and Fredrick before she turns to Lydia and takes her hands, "There are diagrams in the copy you will be given. But if you take anything from today, please know—nothing of value can be learned from the men here."
"I was going to disagree, but she's right," Paul says, taking a bite of a new biscuit and sipping some of the cold tea leftover from the morning.
Fredrick lifts his own tea up with a nod, "Welcome to Kilmartin, Miss Lydia."
//
And no I don't know any of the servants' names in canon Kilmartin.
Also, the Viscount title applied briefly to John is based on what I could find DuckDuckGoing (fuck Google) regency titles and the eldest son is given the next available title as a courtesy title.
But this also gives me joy because Michaela as Countess is higher in rank than Anthony, and I like to think if he found out Michaela has inherited the peerage before her return to society, and that she's just as rakish as he was, he'd be a little annoyed. One of my headcanons is that Anthony is triggered by his own title because he remembers everything that suddenly became his duty when his father died, so he rants about Scotland's exceptions to inheriting titles, and Benedict, getting drunk to just tolerate this mood Anthony is stuck in, "Brother, please..." And Anthony just keeps saying, "But another thing—" ad infinitum.
Kate will later talk to him, asking him why he is in such a state, and he will try to claim it is out of concern for Francesca and her associations before she reenters the marriage mart. She'll see right through it, "You lost your father and were expected to take his place, and you think of how much work is to be done in the name of duty to society and the Queen. You know of sacrifice and loss. But do you think Michaela—Countess of Kilmartin—to be undeserving? Did she not find her dear cousin, who was like a brother to her, with Francesca? Was she not by your sister's side when we could not be there for her?" (Kate truly saved that man from being a complete jackass.)
Anyway, I had fun writing this because I just really wanted to imagine Franchaela as being the best and treating people fairly and being in love and knowing that the people around them help protect them and make them feel safe. Michaela and Francesca as Countesses will always seek to build community and family.
Hope y'all liked it. I kind of love these OCs right now, but I hope we get to know the Kilmartin servants next season, and I hope Sophie is shown in scenes interacting with maids, etc. GAHHH I need a TASTE of something. The radio silence the entirety of Pride month so far feels HOMOPHOBIC. As homophobic as the fact that this is the busiest time of year for me at my job right now, and I worked an average of 10 hours per work day for the last 3 weeks 🪦.
Also, wish me luck—World Cup is tomorrow and I have to go into the office for our big event. If I'm stuck on a train with drunk football fans, it will officially be the most homophobic Pride month. But happy Pride and happy Pride to our Countesses and their ride or die maids and footmen ❤️
what is your interpretation of why michaela is always sitting on the floor? is it just to show non-conformity to social rules?
(EDIT: Made a TikTok about this. If you can just ignore my face for the analysis…)
I plan on doing a close reading of episode 7, BUT yes this is part of it! A good amount of it also has to do with the visual contrast of the scenes/the shot list.
The main motif I’ve enjoyed exploring in that episode (so far) is the presence of absence/loss/grief/emptiness via rule of thirds, blocking, mise en scene, color, light/dark, so her position on the floor correlates based on which scene and shot.
When she is on the floor before the funeral, I realized we see her front and center across from us. We see her in the same way John would see her as they sat in episode 5–We are positioned as poor stand-ins for John; his absence is felt through us because she does not see us, only feels the emptiness where John once was.
I’ll better explain when I’m not 4 beers deep 😅 (friend’s bday). I am caught up on work work and about to do all my apartment stuff I’ve been avoiding on my day off tomorrow, so I can enjoy franchaela guilt-free.
I’m prob going to delve into it on my TT which you can still watch without a TT—ignore my face (too lazy to make a separate account and don’t care enough about people finding out I’m a hyperfixated neurospicy lesbian). I want to do a mix of short segments and then longer ones talking nerdy about gay shit. Come talk about it with me so we can (re)learn stuff together!!!
another theory based on not much but pattern recognition & storytelling:
i think the gender swap was in part bc of the “persuasive” (to put it nicely) sex scenes. look, i get the appeal—i’ve read an immense amount of smut so trust, i get dubcon—but those scenes don’t always translate on screen. that same theme is applicable to almost every sex scene i’ve read between michael & fran. at least with reading dubcon or persuasive erotic scenes, you can see into various character’s thoughts. that is not an option for a tv show without a voiceover of that particular character. & frankly, it can give people the ick when heavy-handed.
but what’s crazy to me is how the major complainers about michaela act as if this character as a man is unique—it’s such a familiar scene on screen & in books & even in actual real life where a man’s adamant pursuits of a love interest are considered endearing & masculine when they are desirable. whereas if any woman were to pursue a woman like michael does in the book, people would say she is a predatory lesbian or trying to convert her. they don’t miss michael as much as they feel entitled to their everyday, easy access to self-inserting love stories. there is a clear picking & choosing of what they have issue with & i’d even say it’s less homophobic than it is heterosexist.
we as queer women/non-cishet women (esp qwoc) have only had fiction for so long—most of us writing ourselves into where we are underrepresented, for free online—a true labor of love! when we do see queer woman on tv, it is rarely for/by queer women, or in the foreground, or well-written, or involving likeable characters, or characters who live, or on shows that reach the mainstream/don’t get canceled after one season. the failure of other women to show up for queer women is constantly disappointing, esp juxtaposed with the loud support for a mlm love story.
i don’t need to see a man convince francesca to marry him. i want to see francesca decide for herself what her future looks like & where her heart belongs. & now so may people, many for the first time, will see at least part of themselves in a world where we did in fact exist but are often erased or denied representation.
anyway… gonna go read a franchaela fic. send recs!
I know Scottish women can inherit peerages, but I feel like if that wasn’t the case, the Queen would change it so Michaela “The Ladies of the Ton’s Bicycle—Everyone Wants a Ride” Stirling could take the title of Countess of Kilmartin just to make sure Michaela has to to go back to Scotland every once in a while because the Queen is so damn tired of hearing all the Lords of the Ton whining about their “hysterical” wives.
PSA: People are loudest and angriest when they’re losing and when they’re scared.
These people flooding comment sections are, by definition, absolute sore losers. Comment sections are full of these self-proclaimed disclaimers “having a different opinion doesn’t make me homophobic,” microaggressions, outright aggression, and spam comments to bury any queer joy (literally marginalizing).
They will dogpile counter arguments. They will pose as a concerned fan with a critique—“I just don’t see this as a good plotline,” “I wanted Eloise”, “Infertility!!”, “They have zero chemistry,” “I hate Francesca emotionally cheated,” “This is unrealistic,” etc. Of course we have counter arguments/opinions, but do not fall for fake sincerity—they do not want to learn or have an actual discussion; they decided to stay on this hill over a year ago.
Whether or not they shut the fuck up doesn’t matter—
We are getting our love story!!! 🌈🥰❤️
This sounds harsh, but: They want to make you miserable. Whether or not they are aware of it, that is the heterosexist compulsion. Their ignorance to the harm done does not absolve them. Many genuinely think because they have a gay friend or they watch mlm romance, they are far from homophobic. But there is a compulsory need to see themselves as superior or savior because they will not let go of the privileges that come from heterosexuality as a hegemonic class. Look at the way they react toward us for “taking” a fictional man “from them.”
Heterosexism has always required we suffer within heteropatriarchy to earn sympathies (think of how many award-winning queer films/shows require we die), as if we just need to ask nicely and be pitiful to be worth fair treatment. That is never how we have won, and they hate when we don’t buy their oppressive narrative. So they do these desperate things, to ensure misery even when we win, especially when we win. But no matter what, we have always persisted.
And despite what they say, more of them will watch than they’ll admit. The comment sections don’t reflect all of us, especially those who said “aw hell nah” upon seeing the shitheads in the comments.
Remember:
They are loud, not powerful.
We are braver than they could ever be. We deserve love, and we have always found a way to each other throughout human history.
TLDR: I love you, queers. Be safe. Protect your energy. But mostly—get hyped for some regency queerness to celebrate together. 🌈❤️ccf
