Mixed Race Gal Who Loves Fanfiction Too Much

18 | USA | 🇨🇳🇮🇳|tewksbury ❤️❤️

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My AO3 Page!

Hey everyone! I’m gonna pin this post so it’s easy to access but I finally have an AO3 page developed with Holmesbury galore! I will be posting there mostly now that it’s up and running, but I will post here for those who don’t have an account/don’t use it. Happy reading and don’t forget to spread the word to other Holmesbury lovers out there!

The magic link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathechindianwriter/pseuds/ninathechindianwriter

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

A new fic is up to celebrate the end of the semester!

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Hey y’all! I’ll have fics by the end of the week and I’ll be more active l, I promise! I have my last two finals this week and once that’s done I’m free! Anyways, here’s a little something I thought of:

Back in the 1800s, little boys would wear girl clothing until they were breeched at around 3 or 4 years old, depending on the family. Imagine this: a baby Tewksbury in girl’s clothing. I can’t stop thinking about that. Also, in my headcanons, Tewksbury and Enola have three kids, two daughters and a son, who’s the youngest. Imagine his older sisters dressing him up as a baby because he wore girl clothes at that time. That is all. I Stan Tewksbury men as babies wearing girl clothes. 🥺🥺🥺

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Hey guys! It’s midnight and I thought I would post some of my favorite Tewksbury images cuz why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do right now cuz obviously sleep isn’t an option 😅

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Two posts in one day?? Here’s another that I made last night instead of studying for my final because I needed a break! Enjoy :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583255

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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Hey everyone! Long time no see but don’t fear! I have not abandoned the fandom 🥰. anyways, enjoy this cute fic of Tewky being the good dad that he is and I warn you, a lot of my fics that are in the making are family fics so be prepared for cute holmesbury family fluff 😀

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440836

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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Update

Hello my fellow Holmesbury fans! As you all may know, this week has been pretty hectic in the US and on top of that, mine has been pretty crazy. I have a lot of exams coming up, so I haven't been online much but I have not forgotten! I’m still brainstorming and writing, just not as much as before. I promise after the tough part is past, I’ll be writing very frequently because I’ll be on break so super excited for that :)) Keep an eye out for a fic this evening! This time, I’ll be writing more often so don’t worry! You’ll have lots of Holmesbury content in the coming weeks!

Also, BIDEN WON!! MY HOME STATE PULLED THROUGH! PROUD OF YA, PA 💙💙💙

[chaotic-witch-22]

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Omg 😂😂😂 I’m Tewksbury! College be like 💀

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As the night before Election Day, I wanna remind you guys a few things. 1, vote tomorrow if you havent decided. 2, STAY SAFE! Don’t let anyone intimidate you and please have plans in case violence breaks out. Yes, im saying this in 2020 and I do hate to say it but be alert and have a plan!!! Avoid large crowds if necessary and don’t engage. 3, y’all may have anxiety relating to the election and that’s perfectly ok! Please reach out to anyone you trust and I’m always here as well 😀😀

Also, JOE BIDEN WAS ON MY CAMPUS TODAY! I WAS IN THE LIBRARY WHEN IT HAPPENED BUT HE WAS RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET FROM WHERE I WAS AHHHHHH! WITH LADY GAGA MIGHT I ADD

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Resemblance (A Holmesbury Fic)

Hey everyone! It’s been a long and stressful week but I made it, and with a new fic! Spoiler: it’s another pregnancy one but I decided to write it because I was in the mood to write another cute fic about them just being cute and cuddly so I guess this is the product of that haha.

Summary: The due date is days away, and Tewksbury and Enola decide to look through old archives to see what their future child would look like.

“It’s the box to the left.”

Enola watched as Tewksbury searched her vanity for the box she was looking for. It was a small one, but beautiful nonetheless. It was easy to miss since it blended in well with the other items on the table, so she didn’t blame him for not seeing it at first. She would have gotten it herself but she was due in less than two weeks and was confined to bed most of the time with intense pain and weakness. As she watched her husband walk back towards the bed with the box, she grunted as she put herself into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy, not too fast,” Tewksbury said as he placed the box in Enola’s hands. He lay down on the bed next to Enola. “Let’s see what we got here.”

Enola reached into the box and pulled out a pile of old photographs. It’s been so long since she looked at them, and seeing them made the childhood memories come flooding back. Tewksbury reached into his jacket and pulled out a pile of his own photographs and placed them on his lap.

“Let’s see,” he said as he laid out the photos on his lap. “Ahh, this one.”

Enola smiled as he reached over and placed one of the photos on her stomach. In it, a much younger Tewksbury sat on top of a rocking horse and smiled back at her. He couldn’t have been older than two or three.

“You were such an adorable baby,” she said. “Look at that sly little smile. What mischief were you cooking up?”

“My master plans to raid the kitchens,” Tewksbury laughed. “Especially the chocolate.” He reached over and took a random photo from Enola’s hands. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Oh, that one!” Enola exclaimed as she looked over. “That’s one of the only pictures I have with my father.”

“You still have the same stare,” he said with a chuckle. “That deep, concentrated look on your face when you’re deep in thought. You were probably concentrating on getting out of your father’s arms.”

“Yes, some things just never change,” she joked. “Always the rebellious one.”

“Hmm,” said Tewksbury as he searched through his pile again. “This one! For my sixth birthday I got a pony and this photo is from the day I got him! I was very proud, you know.”

Enola couldn’t contain her smile as he handed her the photo. He was such a beautiful child, with his angelic curls and sweet smile. Cherubic indeed. As he shuffled through his photos again, Enola placed her free hand on her stomach. Ten more days. Ten more days until she would meet the tiny creature that had been growing inside of her for nearly nine months. As the due date grew closer, she decided to go through their childhood photos to figure out what their future child would look like. It was a brilliant idea, really. Seeing their younger selves gave them a general idea of their baby’s appearance and it seemed like the possibilities are endless. Enola’s face with Tewksbury’s smile. Maybe Tewksbury’s eyes. Or maybe he or she would completely like Enola or completely like Tewksbury. Genetics are truly mysterious.

“Enola, look!” Tewksbury’s voice broke her train of thought. “I remember this day so clearly. “I was in the gardens and my father was teaching me about flowers and what they symbolize!” He handed her a photo of himself sitting on one of the benches in the gardens with dozens of flowers in his hands. A proud smile was plastered on his face and as her eyes scanned the photo, Enola noticed he was surrounded by different flower bushes.

“Look, it’s you in your natural habitat,” she joked as she playfully shoved her husband. “How old were you?”

“About eight,” he responded. “And yes, I was in my true habitat,” he added with a smile. “I like to joke that I found living with flowers much more appealing than living in the manor.

“Of course you did,” said Enola. “I have an idea,” she added all the sudden.

“As you always do.”

“We should put our pictures side by side depending on our age. Here, since we’re around two or three in these two, why don’t we put them together. Same for these. We’re around ten here so let’s put these together as well.” She reached forwards and started to match the photos that were already scattered over their laps. “Here, why don’t you hand me some and I’ll match those as well.”

“Enola, what are you doing,” Tewksbury asked with a furrowed brow as he passed some pictures to her. She matched them quickly and before long, a whole picture gallery was spread across their laps and the bed.

“I’m trying to figure out what our child will look like,” she responded and she straightened the photos. “Who our child will look like.”

“Us,” said Tewksbury.

“Yes, of course it will look like us,” said Enola, rolling her eyes. “By looking at these pictures, I think we can at least have a general idea of what to expect.”

“I know, I’m just kidding. I think it’s a splendid idea,” Tewksbury said.

“Anyways, look at this.” Enola held up two pictures. “What do you notice?”

“Well, we’re with our fathers. I know I’m six in that picture and you look like you’re four.”

“What about these over here?” She pointed to another set of pictures, this time with their mothers.

“Our mothers,” said Tewksbury, deep in thought. “Ooh, I think I know what you’re getting at. We both look nothing like our mothers. Except for you, I guess. You have her eyes and smile. But otherwise you look more like your father.”

“You look exactly like yours,” Enola said as she held his photos closer.

“I wonder why I don’t look like my mother,” he said as he leaned back. “I know some things about genetics and how it can vary, but most people I know have equal traits from both parents. Do you know why?”

“To be honest, I do not have an answer for that,” Enola said as she continued to scan the pictures in front of her.  

“Come on, you always have answers to everything,” her husband teased.

“I have heard from multiple people that firstborns look more like their father. Of course not everyone, but I know Mycroft looks like our father and he’s the firstborn. Here.”

Enola reached back into her box and pulled out an old photo of Mycroft and Sherlock and held it next to the photo of her father. The resemblance was uncanny. “I’m the first born and I look just like my father as well. This makes sense!” Tewksbury whispered. He turned to his wife with an excited look on his face. “Enola, what if? What if the baby looks just like me? There will be so much of me in my daughter!”

“Daughter?” Enola asked with a laugh. She could have sworn he had a bigger smile on his face than a child at the fair. “You’ve said that so many times already. What makes you think we’re going to have a girl?”

“Oh, I know,” he responded. “I have my way of sensing things.”

“Really? You say you can sense things but couldn’t sense someone was trying to murder you all those years ago?”

“Ok, fine. Fair point. But I do and truly think we will have a girl. A perfect little girl.”

“Who will look like her father,” said Enola as she held up one of Tewksbury’s baby photos. “She’ll have his perfect eyes and perfect smile.”

“And her mother’s brains, may I add,” said Tewksbury with a wink.

“Imagine this,” said Enola as she held up photos of each of them as toddlers. “The baby will have your good looks, but the same mischievous twinkle I had. Behind that cherubic face is a strong willed and free soul.”

“Agreed. Do you reckon she’ll share my love of flowers?”

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

“Your curly hair?”

“I can definitely see that.”

“You want to hear something really crazy?”

“Of course,” said Enola as she rested her hands on her stomach.

“I have a feeling she’ll have your nose.”

Enola tilted her head back and laughed, ignoring the sharp pain going down her spine.

“My nose? Why on earth would it be my nose?”

Tewksbury looked at her with a sheepish grin.

“I thought it wouldn't be fair if she didn’t have at least one thing from you,” he joked. “I think your nose is your best quality, so we’ll give it to her.”

“William Tewksbury Marquess of Basilwether, you take that back,” said Enola as she playfully took a pillow and hit her husband over the head with it. Just as Tewksbury reached up to grab it, Enola felt a flutter in her stomach. The baby was kicking.

“Stop, stop, the baby’s awake,” said Enola as she let go of the pillow.

Tewksbury immediately stopped and threw the pillow to the opposite side of the bed, a concerned look growing on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he placed both hands on her stomach. “Should I call Mother? Maybe the physician?”

“No,” Enola said with a pained smile. “Everything’s fine. It looks like our little one has something to say. Stand still.”

The room fell dead silent as the two adults waited for another response from their child, who now seemed to be in the mood to move around inside Enola’s stomach. They held their breaths, not wanting to miss anything. After a while, she felt it again. This time, it was stronger than the last one. Tewksbury had a huge smile on his face and leaned over to press his lips over her stomach.

“What was that, my dear?” he whispered. “Did you have something to say to your papa?”

Another kick.

“Hello to you too,” he said as a small tear formed in the corner of his eye. “I can’t wait to meet you, my little angel. I’m not sure if you can hear us, but we were walking about you. I think you and I will look just like each other. What do you think?”

No response. As adorable as it was, Enola was glad she stopped because some of her kicks were hard and gave her a lot of pain. Tewksbury turned towards her and they made eye contact, enjoying each other's company before he spoke again.

“I think she agrees with me. She’s going to look exactly like me,” he said as he began to pick up the photographs.

“She didn’t kick back when you asked her,” Enola laughed as she handed him some pictures. “She went silent after you asked, so I don’t think she agrees.”

Tewksbury looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, no. She does. She just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. After all, she knows that hurting her mother’s feelings before she’s even born would be an awful thing. Smart girl.”

“Nobody hurts my feelings,” Enola replied with a wink. “Especially a newborn baby we know absolutely nothing about!”

“I beg to differ, but we shall see. Trust me, I am right.” He winked back.

“Of course. You are the Marquess of Basilwether after all.”

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Update

Hey ya’ll! I bet you all know this already, but Election Day is in 6 days! Like always, I strongly encourage you to vote if you are able to and believe it or not, it counts! Be like Tewksbury and tip the scales! His one vote enabled the bill to be passed, so please don’t sit around and think everything will work out!

P.S. I’m writing another fic so keep an eye out (it’s based off my most recent fic which you can find here so give it a read as well). I’m also finally making an Ao3 account so all my fics will be there as well, so I’ll make a pinned post with a link to my page there. Anyways, have a wonderful rest of your week and as usual, feel free to drop an ask or a message :)

[thechindiannerd280]

Rekindled Love

Hello again! Wow, I am really in the mood to write fics lately! 3 fics in one week is quite the stretch for me and I’m having a blast making them! As usual, my ask box is always open and I could use more ideas but thanks so much for the good feedback! Really, I do appreciate it. Anyways, enjoy yet another fic! Spoiler: this one takes place much later than my other fics :)

Summary: A short fic where Tewksbury takes some time alone to introduce his son to a long lost family member.

“Well it looks like it’s just you and me, my little friend,” Tewksbury said softly as he looked down at the bundle in his arms.

The hall was blissfully quiet as he made his way towards the portrait gallery. The past few days have been a blur with all the celebration and chaos that came along with it. After all, the birth of a noble child, especially a male one, was cause for great celebration. The hall was buzzing with activity in preparation for the formal celebration that would occur once Enola was recovered from birth, and in addition to all the activity was the excitement of his daughters. However, he was finally alone with his newborn son. There were no orders to give or daughters to chase. They were currently with their uncle Sherlock, who came to visit to help out since he was not currently solving a case. Enola was currently sleeping and that’s when Tewksbury decided to take the newborn for a walk.

As they neared the portrait gallery, the baby began to stir. Tewksbury smiled down at him as they walked through the gallery, passing under the watchful gazes of their ancestors. He always felt uncomfortable in this room and always felt the paintings were judging him. It wasn’t entirely false to say that they weren’t, as his accomplishments were small compared to theirs and at times he felt he wasn’t worthy of his 500 year old lineage. However, he did not come to the gallery to dwell in their judgement and continued down towards a large painting in the middle of the room. A painting with kinder and warmer eyes than the rest.

He cleared his throat as he looked up at the painting, standing still as a mountain.

“Father, we meet again,” he said slowly as he began to rock the now fussing baby in his arms. He then froze again, unsure of what to say. He only came to see the painting ever so often and most of his visits were important moments, such as the births of his children and important moments in his political career. It felt stupid at times. Him, a grown man, talking to his father’s painting. However, despite constant reminders from his uncle and mother that his father would be proud, he still felt the need to speak to him. To see him.

“Father,” he said again, taking another step closer to the painting. “This is your grandson.” He looked down at the baby again, beaming. “Quite a handsome fellow.”

The baby stopped squirming and now had his hand held out. Tewksbury gave him his hand and grinned as he felt tiny fingers wrap around his large pointer finger.

“We named him after you. Harold. Harold James.” He felt a warm tear fall down his cheek. “He has Mother’s big blue eyes. They’re so beautiful.”

He stood for a few more moments, eyes darting between Harold and his father.

“I will teach him everything you taught me, Father. I promise. I hope to be as great a father to him as you were to me in our short time together.” He paused before speaking again. “I should tell you how your granddaughters are doing while I’m here. I think you may have seen them recently. They love to come in here and try to replicate the paintings. Aren’t they beautiful? Rose is just like me and Violet...oh, she’s a funny one. Much like her mother. She’s always up to some adventure.”

Tewksbury looked down at Harold, who appears to have fallen back asleep. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before looking up again.

“Thank you, Father,” he said as he backed up. “Until we meet again.”

At that, he turned around and made his way out of the portrait gallery, Just as he turned the corner to head back to his bedroom to check on Enola, he heard laughter. He turned to look out the nearest window and there they were. Sherlock and his little girls. Violet was sitting on his shoulders and she appeared to be laughing while Rose skipped along, flowers in hand. Tewksbury assumed they were for Enola. With a smile, he turned back towards the corridor as he adjusted Harold once more.

“I think your mummy will be up soon,” he cooed. “Why don’t we head back and meet her and your sisters? I think they will be all happy to see you.”

Harold grunted in his sleep and Tewksbury took that as a ‘yes’. He quickly picked up his pace, looking forward to the quiet family evening he had been wanting for almost a week.

[thechindiannerd280]

Blooming Beginnings

Hey guys! This is for @differentlywerid and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Ugh, the more I write about these two the more I love them! Regarding the flowers, I did some research on them and their symbolism and some sites said different things than others so I averaged it out and put down the meanings that I saw most frequently across different sources.

Summary: Enola has some important news to share with her husband and does so in a very Tewksbury fashion.

Enola quickly whipped her head around as she heard her husband’s footsteps approach their bed. This it it. After a full week of hiding, she finally decided to tell him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked with a worried look as he took a seat on the bed and taking her hands into his. “You’ve been ill and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Enola nodded, although she was still in pain.

“Yes, everything will be fine. I just need to rest,” she replied.

Tewksbury nodded. He then pulled out a sealed envelope from his jacket pocket and held it in front of him, eyebrows raised.

“I was given specific instructions not to open this until we were alone together,” he said with a nervous smile. “I truly wonder what you have up your sleeve this time. Are you feeling alright? If not, I can have the physician return.”

“I’m fine,” said Enola. She took a deep breath. “You may open it.”

Her heart raced as she watched her husband quickly rip open the envelope and pull out a card. Upon opening it, several flower petals fell into his free hand.

“Enola,” he said slowly. “What is the meaning of this?”

Stay clam, Enola. He won’t be angry. How could he? Enola scolded herself for her seemingly stupid fears. They’ve known eachother for ten years and have been married for one and never once have they gotten truly angry at eachother. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but a negative reaction wasn’t impossible. He could get angry at her. Maybe rightfully so. Still, she had to keep going with the plan.

“Can you tell me the meaning of each flower these petals are from?” Enola spoke slowly, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

Face scrunched in confusion, Tewksbury cleared his throat as he sorted the petals on his open palm.

“First one is a daisy. Typically symbolize innocence and purity, but in other cases can also symbolize new beginnings and motherhood. Next is an orchid. They’re such lovely plants. Chinese legend says that they represent fertility and serves as a symbol for many children. Ooh, a marigold! October’s birth flower! Hmm. And this I believe is baby’s breath. Very precious like a baby and symbolizes undying love.” He looked his wife in the eyes. “Enola, what is the meaning of this.

Enola stared back and blinked. She nodded her head, confmining whatever he was thinking. Her heart was racing and she thought she would combust there and then. It’s out. He knows.

“Enola,” he said as he allowed the petals to fall to the floor. “All these flowers, these petals. They all relate to...birth?”

Here it is.

“Yes, my brilliant husband. Marquess of Basilwether, I am pregnant with our child,” Enola said as she leaned back in her pillows.

Tears formed in his eyes as he quickly gathered Enola into his arms. She rested her head on his chest and at that moment she realized their heart beats were in sync. She could feel nothing but warmth and love in his embrace and it was then when the emotions she was bottling up for a full week started to pour out.

“Enola, that’s...that’s amazing. We’re a family now,” he said between sobs. “Me, a father.”

“A very good one,” Enola added, allowing tears to flow freely down her face. Taking one of his hands into her own, she moved it down to her stomach, which wasn’t too round yet but filled with life regardless. Although she was tested a week ago, apparently she had been pregnant for two months, with the past few weeks being very unforgiving. She was exhausted, in extreme pain, and had found it a little more difficult to fit into her corset. It was truly hellish, but all of that was forgotten as she and her husband relished in the joy of being parents.

“Do you feel anything?” she whispered as she placed her hands ontop of his on her stomach.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Our little one. Enola, we’re parents. We have a child. What color should the nursery be? Wait, we can’t do that because we don’t know the gender. Do you know? Do mothers know these things? Wait, I’m the father I should know also. What should we do now?”

Enola chuckled at her husband’s words.

“Tewks, you’re blabbering. I have no clue. And don’t panic, the baby isn’t due until October.”

“Hence the marigolds,” he said with a smile. “Our child will come to us in the autumn. Enola, it’s so close yet so far.”

“Yes,” said Enola, closing her eyes contently. “We have plenty of time to sort ourselves out,” she added jokingly.

Tewksbury laughed as he started to gently massage her stomach.

“Ah, yes. Looks like we have quite the amount of learning to do in the meantime. Can’t show up unprepared for parenthood,” he joked back.

“Indeed,” said Enola. “Why don’t we get to it then? I will take a look at the nursery and see if it needs some touch ups. Knowing the last occupant was you, I’m guessing it’s in desperate need of redesign.”

“Hey, not fair,” Tewksbury responded with a chuckle. “I only stayed there until I was seven before moving into a proper room. It’s only temporary.”

“But we should redecorate still,” Enola replied as she attempted to get out of the bed. Almost immediately, her head started to spin and got a sudden sharp pain in her abdomen. Trying to recollect herself, she felt someone push her back into the pillows.

“You are not going anywhere,” she heard her husband say. “You need to rest.”

Enola frowned as she saw all her plans and responsibilities ruined.

“What about the nursery? And on top of that I have quite a bit of letters and coded messages to decipher. That damned woman. If I can get to the bottom of her affair..”

“Enola, stop. The nursery can wait. We still have seven more months. And your case can wait too. You’re not in the state of mind or body for such things.”

“I have to crack those codes and see if the letters have anything of use,” Enola protested, not willing to waste time. “Wait, here’s a better plan. How about you bring them here to me. They’re on my desk in my study. Can’t miss them.”

Tewksbury shook his head.

“You really should rest. How about you get some sleep now and we reevaluate when you wake up.”

“And who are you to tell me?” Enola asked with a playful smile.

“I am the Marquess of Basilwether and I order my wife to rest because her body does cruel things to her when she’s pregnant,” he responded with a sly smile of his own and a raised eyebrow.

“Fine. You win.”

“As I always do.”

“Debatable.”

Enola closed her eyes as Tewsbury rearranged the pillows and covers to make her more comfortable. Just when she began to feel the exhaustion overtake her, she called out to her husband.

“Stay. Stay with me.”

“Alright, my love.”

She felt the bed shift as he lay down beside her and she quickly moved closer, snuggling into his chest. She was tired. She did want to sleep. Why was he always right about everything?

“Sweet dreams,” she heard him whisper before completely falling into a deep sleep. “You too, little one,” he added as he gently touched her stomach. “I’m very excited to meet you.”  

[thechindiannerd280]

I love your page, do you think you can write about holmesbury during the pregnancy and how they reacted when they found out? Keep up the great work

Absolutely!! I’m glad you like my stuff! This weekend I’m actually pretty low on schoolwork so hopefully by Monday or Tuesday I’ll have that and possibly another one completed 😁

[thechindiannerd280]

A Special Gift

Hey everyone! Here’s yet another fic! So this is a pregnancy fic and as an 18 year old, I’m not really sure how that works but I tried my best. Please enjoy! And if you have any ideas or requests, please message me or drop an ask! I’m always open :)

“Can I open my eyes?” Enola asked as she followed her husband, hands locked with his.

“Not yet,” said Tewksbury with a chuckle. “It’s a surprise for a reason.”

Enola nodded, a huge smile forming on her face. She did find it strange that he would blindfold her and lead her through the estate grounds, but he seemed so excited and happy and she knew he had something huge up his sleeve. The young couple picked up their pace for a while until Tewksbury suddenly stopped. Enola felt his arms wrap around her midsection, which was growing by the day. His touch felt so warm and loving, and Enola allowed herself to lean back into his arms.

“May I take off this blindfold?” Enola asked, heart pounding with excitement.

“Wait,” he said. “Let’s count down together. Three.”

“Two.”

“One”

“Finally,” Enola finished as she tore the silk cloth away from her eyes. As her vision adjusted to the bright sunlight, her eyes finally fell on a large tree. She looked up and in the branches was nothing other than a freshly made treehouse. It was magnificent. It wasn’t just any little treehouse. It looked like a smaller and more modern version of Basilwether Hall and Enola was certain that someone would live there if they wanted to. She looked around, spotting a ladder near the tree trunk and even noticed some flower decorations in the windows.

“Tewksbury, it’s..it’s perfect,” she breathed, uncharacteristically lost for words. This was one of the first times she had nothing to say. She continued to stare in awe at the treehouse as she felt her husband’s hands land on her stomach.

“For our little one,” he said proudly. “A place where countless memories and flower pressings will be made.”

Tears formed in Enola’s eyes as she turned towards her husband.

“Did you make this yourself? And how did I not know about this?”

“Well, it is a surprise,” he laughed. “And yes, for the most part. I had some help with the trickier parts but it was 99% my doing. And how did you not know? Well, I worked on it mostly when you were gone solving cases.”

“It is an impressive feat for a marquess,” said Enola with a playful grin. “Well done.”

“Thank you, I really do appreciate the feedback,” Tewksbury said playfully as he planted a quick kiss on his wife’s cheek. They then stood in silence, enjoying each other's company and admiring the treehouse that they hoped will one day be filled with their children’s laughter. After what seemed like an eternity, Enola turned and looked her husband in the eye, suddenly feeling nervous and gloomy.

“I’m scared,” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“What for, my love?” Tewksbury asked, wiping the tear with his thumb.

“This is going to sound so ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head bashfully. “I hate to be vulnerable like this. And emotional.”

“Don’t worry,” he said softly as he allowed his wife to rest her head on his chest. “There’s nothing more ridiculous than my hair before you cut it.”

Enola let out a laugh, grateful for her husband’s humorous comment. His hair was indeed ridiculous back then. It definitely was a story topic to tell their child.

“But in all seriousness, Enola. Don’t be afraid to tell me what’s going on,” he added.

“It’s just..” Enola took a deep breath. “It’s just that I’m scared. Will I be a good mother? I don’t know if I’m ready for a child. What about my cases?” There. She said it. She wasn’t really sure what was going on with herself, and the constant mood swings and self doubt really took their toll on her. She was told by her mother in law and own mother that emotions ran high during pregnancy and were prone to changing at random times, such as now. However, she doubted it. Those doubtful feelings felt so real. Was she ready? Will she be a good mother?

“Shhhh,” said Tewksbury quietly as he rocked her gently. “We’re in this together, my love. And I don’t think you’ll be a bad parent at all. There’s nobody like you and our baby is one lucky kid. Here’s the real question: am I, a nincompoop, ready to be a father?”

Enola laughed despite the tears that occasionally rolled out of her eyes. He really did know how to make her feel better about everything. Slowly, she pulled away and placed her hands over his, which were still resting on her stomach.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Will we have a daughter or a son?”

“Daughter,” said Tewksbury without hesitation. “A strong, independent, and brilliant little girl following in her mother’s footsteps.”

“Bold,” said Enola as she looked into her husband’s warm brown eyes. There was so much love and joy in them, and she was beginning to think that maybe they were more ready than they thought they were. If their love guided them through everything thus far, then it is love that will allow them to continue.

“Well,” said Tewksbury. “Shall we do some decorating then? It looks a bit dull, don’t you think.”

“Indeed,” said Enola with a smile. “What types of flowers were you thinking of?”

“Maybe some daisies and lilies. Looks like they’re in season. Oh, what about buttercups? Countless possibilities! What do you think?”

“You know exactly what I’m thinking,” Enola stated with a wink.

“Chrysanthemums?”

“Wouldn't think of anything else.”

[thechindiannerd280]

Unthinkable Actions (Ficlet)

Hello! I hope y’all liked my last fic because I enjoyed writing it! I’m writing another short fic because I feel like writing this week so here’s a little look into how and why the Dowager killed her son and tried to kill her grandson. Enjoy and as usual, please comment or send ideas :)

As the afternoon sun shone through the windows, the Dowager took a seat at her desk. She really did enjoy basking in the sunlight, but today was different. She had much to get through and since nobody was around at the moment, she thought it was the best opportunity to send Linthorn a letter. Linthorn. She really did wish she didn’t need him again, but duty called and he was the only person who was ruthless enough to do what others wouldn’t do for her. Additionally, he shared the same political views as she did, making their connection much more practical. She couldn’t believe how many progressives there were, regardless of class or occupation and it was especially frustrating that her own family was headed in that direction. That concerned her greatly. What would happen to society? The nobility? Their lands and estate? Those questions plagued her every waking hour.

As she stared at the far wall thinking of what she wanted to write, the Dowager thought of all the events that transpired over the past couple months. The Reform Bill. That damned bill. She grimaced, thinking of what would happen if the common people could vote. What did they know about politics or anything at all for that matter? Worst of all, why would her family support such things? For centuries, the marquesses of Basilwether proudly performed their duties as members of the nobility by engaging at court or in Parliament and grew extremely wealthy over the generations. In fact, they were one of the wealthiest noble families in the nation. She was very proud of her lineage, and vowed to protect it at all costs. Little did she know she would have to protect it from members of her own family. She sighed, turning her head towards a medium sized portrait on the far left. A beautiful woman in a flowing evening dress and a young boy of about 10 years old stared back at her. Harold. Her eldest son and quite possibly the stupidest. From a young age he always was disturbed by the ills of society, having learned about them through novels and occasional trips to London. Most of his teen and adult life was dedicated to pushing change and the Dowager tolerated it until recently. His support of the Reform Bill was her final straw with him and she couldn’t just sit and watch Basilwether crumble to pieces because of his feelings towards others’ wellbeing.

In all honesty, she felt guilty. Not for killing him, but for not regretting it. If England was preserved, it could do without him and his vote. The rest of the family was truly devastated and she played the game, even by wearing mourning clothes for a longer period for heaven's sake! However, she knew the mourning clothes would have to stay on because she needed to accomplish her next goal, one possibly more sinister than the last: kill her grandson. Once that was accomplished, the estate and seat would go to Whimbrel. She didn’t entirely trust him, as he had some sympathies for progression and his experience in the military gave him a different outlook, but she knew she could rely on him to at least vote against the bill. Now, onto her grandson. William Tewksbury. She loved him. He was such a sweet child, always caring about the well being of others and always taking time out of his day to do something kind. He was also very quiet and shy, much in contrast to his loud and boisterous father and uncle. She loved him and raising him was truly a privilege no other parent or grandparent had. Now he is almost a man, having turned 16 in the past year and already looking so much like his father. And thinking like him apparently.

Turning back towards the paper after pondering for a long time, the Dowager picked up her pen and began to write:

Dear Linthorn,

I hope this letter finds you well. I would like to thank you for your service to me, my family, and most importantly, England. I was hoping that we would part ways, but another urgent issue has arised. My grandson is a progressive. Not just a progressive, but he has made it clear that he wishes to vote for the Reform Bill as well. Now, I don’t want you to be mistaken. I will not ask you to kill every lord that votes for the bill, but I ask you to kill my grandson like you did his father. Not for me, but for England. I will ensure that you are paid very generously, more so than last time, but I hope you agree to my terms. If you ultimately decide to help me again, please send a letter and we shall arrange plans. In the meantime, I will wait and think as I do not want my family suspecting anything regarding foul play.

Sincerely,

Dowager Catherine Tewksbury of Basilwether

There. She did it. After carefully folding the paper and sealing it in an envelope, the Dowager signalled for a servant to take it away and mail it. As the envelope left her hands, she felt a huge weight being lifted off her frail shoulders. Before she could leave the study, she heard laughter outside the window. She made her way slowly to see what was happening and there he was, glowing in the afternoon sun as he walked with his mother. She smiled sadly, thinking of all the wonderful moments they spent together as grandmother and grandson. She truly loved him and never in her life thought that one day she would end his life but as monstrous as it seemed, she would do so with no hesitation to preserve the system which she vowed to protect.

As the teen and his mother disappeared into the gardens, she placed her fingers on the window and took a deep breath.

“I am so sorry, my darling.”

[thechindiannerd280]

Her Little Rose (Holmesbury Ficlet)

I’ve been super busy with my lab but I finally got to write the fic! Sorry for the wait, but sometimes my time management skills get the best of me and I end up stressing about assignments that could have been done in an hour. Anyways, enjoy! This is pretty short and some of my fics will be smaller than others, but if you have any ideas, please feel free to send an ask or message me!

The moment she was laid in her arms, Enola knew what she would call her.

She was a beautiful baby. Small, delicate, and absolutely beautiful. Enola stared lovingly at her daughter, gently rocking her back and forth and running her finger over the thin wisps of brown hair that covered her head. Her eyes were closed at the moment, but Enola knew she had her father’s eyes. As Enola leaned forward to plant a kiss on her pink cheeks, Tewksbury took a seat on the bed next to his wife.

“Rose,” said Enola, sighing as her eyelids grew heavy. “Our little Rose. Do you remember that day?” She turned to her husband and gave a tired smile.

“Of course,” said Tewksbury. “The day you found me at Covent Garden. I gave you a rose to thank you.”

“Do you recall the color?”

“Bright pink. Symbolic of grace and gentleness, often given as a token of appreciation,” said Tewksbury with a smile. Enola nodded, happy that he remembered. She looked at her daughter and saw her husband doing the same. They sat in a comfortable silence before she spoke.

“I wanted to name her Rose not only because she’s just like one, but I wanted to honor the day I came back to you.” Enola looked up and smiled. “I truly appreciate every moment and decision we’ve made together.”

“I appreciate you too,” said Tewksbury, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye. “This is just so surreal. One moment we’re jumping from trains and now, we have a child? Quite the adventure,” he added with a chuckle.

Enola laughed, ignoring the pain in her stomach. Yes, they are parents now. It felt like it was just yesterday when they were teeangers, running around London with no idea how the outside world worked. Now, they have a child to raise, to love, and most importantly, to teach. Enola knew being a woman of the day was a tough life, having witnessed and experienced the injustice women suffered from and she vowed to do everything in her power to teach her daughter to be strong, independent, and to fight for change. Finally feeling the exhaustion from childbirth and excitement, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Looks like Rose and I will be doing some father daughter bonding,” said Tewksbury as he stood up. “You should rest, Enola. You had a long and hard day.”

Barely awake, Enola allowed her husband to take Rose out of her arms. As tired as she was, she still refused to sleep. She opened her eyes one last time to witness Tewksbury sitting in her rocking chair, holding Rose close to his chest. Before sleep completely overtook her, she heard him say soemthing that made her heart fill with happiness.

“I hope you like plants because we’re going to make you your very own garden. Fill it with roses, tulips, and chrysanthemums. They’re your mommy’s favorite, you know.”