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Did you know?

The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree


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Ester Montgomery for Thomas Montgomery. The one that got away (with the pornographer...)
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.

Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa


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Of all the people to enter the lift
#1
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October 12th, 1888 — Ministry of Magic Offices, the Lift

He'd been married for two weeks and of course, everything had gone to hell in a hand-basket. Barnabas hadn't been surprised when he'd finally recovered from his amortentia-stupor, but his wife had decided to hold a grudge instead of make the best of things. He'd been kicked out of their marital bed and forced to sleep in a separate room - in a home that she shared with her entire family no less! This matter of dispute wasn't even private between them. Her entire family knew and it was highly likely that word had traveled fast. He'd been getting side-eyes from his colleagues all week. Everyday there was a snicker behind his back. Thus far, none had actually had the gumption to tease him to his face. Likely it was due to fear of Maeve's wrath (the damned woman refused to call herself a Skeeter, even though that's what she was) rather than fear of Barnabas' reaction.

Annulment wasn't an option thanks to her (besides, they'd lain together so he couldn't very well leave in case she was with child) and he hadn't quite gone so far as to think about the consequences of an outright divorce. He was stuck in this hellish life until she either came around and decided to be a proper wife, off herself and free him or run off like the wanton woman she was and allow him to live his life as he'd planned.

Crankier than ever, Barnabas entered the lift that morning with a scowl on his face. The lift stopped at the next floor and Barnabas shuffled to the side to make room. As luck would have it, the person was none other than his aunt. His face warmed and he struggled to meet her gaze.

"Good morning, Aunt Morwenna," He greeted stiffly, ready for the barrage of judgement and teasing that would undoubtedly befall him. He didn't blame her for it. If the situation had been reversed, he'd definitely have had a thing or two to say about it. That didn't mean that he liked having to deal with it.


av by Bree ❤
#2
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Were it not for the sheer amount of people she had been forced to correct of the assumption that she was his mother Morwenna would have found the recent development in her family deeply entertaining. Barnabas has always been the least affectionate and most ambitious of her nephews and yet, probably the most like Max and therefore the most like her, so she couldn’t quite bring herself to be too critical towards the boy.

On the other hand she had never publically entered into a verbal war with a redhead only to later marry her, so she probably did have the upper hand morally.

“Good morning dear,” she greeted, her face a picture of neutrality, a skill honed to perfection through recent debates in the Wizengamot. It was marginally less difficult than trying not to spit in the eye of Lucius Lestrange.

“How’re thing?” She asked lightly, turning her head towards him as though she were expecting no less than an update on the liveliness of his dog and a vague mention of his mother’s health.
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   Aldous Crouch


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#3
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Well, this hadn't quite been what he'd expected. Perhaps she didn't know? Unlikely. Things went around fast at the Ministry. It was fueled by magic and gossip, much like the Pendergast School for Young Roses.

"As one would expect," He said guardedly. He'd meant for that to be all he'd say. That's what a gentleman would do. But this was his aunt, who had known him from childhood and likely had hoped he'd marry well - or be happy, at least. It gushed out of him as if propelled by an unnatural force. "When you've been hi-jinked into marrying a sham of a woman with the most horrendous disposition."
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   Benedict Sterling


av by Bree ❤
#4
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Her lips twitched in amusement at the comment but Morwenna immediately felt what she was sure to be the first of many sparks of defensiveness towards young Miss- the newest Mrs Skeeter. She didn’t know her well, or very much at all really, but she had certainly noticed the young woman when she had vehemently opposed Barney’s ridiculous notions about duelling and she had heard from a number of her colleagues that the girl had a temper.

Morwenna liked her. Every description she had heard of Maeve Connolly prior to this had been entirely positive in her estimation and she was only sorry that the girl had married the least agreeable of Martha and Max’s children.

“I take it the honeymoon period is well and truly over then?”

Perhaps she ought to get to know Maeve better? At the very least she would love to hear what choice words the auror had about her new husband!
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   Benevolence Montague


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#5
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"The honeymoon period went up in flames the moment the amortentia wore off." He was so consumed with his misery that he completely missed the dip in his aunt's sincerity. "The idiot's gone and lost her envelope so we can't even annul the bloody thing."

He'd thought maybe she'd come around to making the best of it. They were married after all and the only thing that would free them is a divorce - which likely would cause even more of a scandal. So much of one that she'd lose her perilously held position at the Ministry and he could kiss his dream of one day becoming Minister goodbye. Now they were in purgatory. Did he just move out and continue with his life without the hope of marrying happily and having legitimate children? If she wasn't going to come around, he certainly wasn't going to waste his life sleeping in his own room at her parents' house.
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   Elladora Black


av by Bree ❤
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Morwenna rolled her eyes scathingly, though she had to admit she felt a smattering of sympathy for them both; they were well and truly stuck, and without any affection on either side – according to a slightly hysterical Martha at least – it would likely make for an unbearable household. And if she had it right then they didn’t even have the benefit of solitude to help them reach an accord.

“Martha says you’ve moved in with her family.” She didn’t pass comment upon the Connolly’s familiar arrangement as much as she might have liked to. Partly because she didn’t wish to give her nephew the impression that she was especially on his side, but also because she had heard more than one person in the Ministry muttering about their traditions being typical of Fenians and Morwenna had soundly rebuked each and every one of those people. She did so hate to be seen as contradictory with her opinion.

“I hope you haven’t been so critical of your bride in front of any of them?”
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   Prudence Browne


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bury me with this Bee set
#7
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Had he been so critical of her in front of her family? He couldn't quite recall. They had had some public skirmishes, but surely she'd been just as scathing as he had - if not more so. If he'd said anything remotely cruel, it had 100% been Maeve's fault for provoking him. She knew just what to do to draw his ire, no matter where they were or whom was present.

His arms crossed over his chest defensively, leaving his cane propped up against the back wall of the lift, "I've been the perfect gentleman, no need to worry about my manners. Albeit, the living arrangement is most uncomfortable. They've put me in my own room until I can the situation sorted out." He didn't mention that he'd chosen not to return to his townhouse yet for the sole reason of irritating Maeve.


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