Без названия

I recently learned an old French euphemism for bisexuality. It means to be powered "by sail and steam," and it absolutely comes from a specific flavor of 19th-century ship.

HMS Terror and Erebus were bisexual, you heard it here first.

Steve is always talking about the kids. About driving them to school and taking them to doctor appointments or trips. It's sweet, actually, how devoted he obviously is to his kids.

There's Dustin, who Steve is always driving everywhere and bragging about how smart he is. And there's also Max and Erica, his girls who have Steve around their fingers.

And, well, maybe Steve is young to have three kids already, but who's Eddie to judge?

But then Steve is mentioning a Lucas too when he talks about his kids, and a Jane, and okay now Eddie is kinda freaking out. He's been trying to give Steve space and time, to let Steve set the pace and decide when he wants to have the 'do you wanna meet my kids?' conversation, but Eddie can't help but blurt out, "Babe, how many kids do you have?"

Steve looks at him funny, as if Eddie is not making any sense. "What do you mean?"

"You've already mentioned at least five different kids. Is there any more?"

"Oh, they are seven in total."

Seven. Seven fucking kids. How the hell is that even possible? Steve is twenty-six!

"Jesus, how old were you when the first of them was born?"

Understanding glints in Steve's eyes and he laughs so hard that Eddie is a little offended. Who wouldn't be a little frantic after finding out their new boyfriend had seven kids?

"Do you wanna meet them?" Steve asks suddenly, unable to hold back a grin.

An hour later, Eddie finds himself meeting not a bunch of kids but a bunch of grown adults, well in their 20s too, who are very nice and cool but also extremely protective of Steve.

Phoebe Dynevor as Daphne Bridgerton

Prison Survival Kit (front row, left to right): 1. A mirror. Cannot be seen in Newgate looking less than my best... especially if a certain lady detective turns up! 2. Whiskey. Asked for Macallan, got the knockoff, Loch McKellan. Not as potent as the homemade stuff, but it does the trick. 3. Tobacco and rolling papers. I don't smoke, but it is a rather useful bartering tool. 4. A soft bristle brush. Might work on getting the old curl back if Fulton can procure some pomade!

I imagine Eliza and Patrick at Solomon's shop yet again. They're working on a case, trying to figure out a way to apprehend a criminal during a big fancy event. For once, they decide that the best way to go would be a tincture of laudanum, a private carriage, two armed detectives and a big sack. "I suppose the sack is excessive, since we're not taking him across the English Channel", - Patrick's remark about their working methods complementing each other/ his methods not being as appalling to her as they used to be makes Eliza roll her eyes.

There's only one thing left. They cannot come up with a way to carry the poison to the event. Solomon helps them out, suggesting poison rings. He, in fact, has a whole collection of those for a very reasonable price. The rings themselves are attention-grabbing but in a way that doesn't automatically suggests a poison compartment. Patrick and Eliza argue again over who's going to wear it. She doesn't like the ring and he doesn't like the pressure of being the one to add the poison into the man's drink. Solomon interrupts them, saying that none of the rings will fit a lady since the sizes are designed for men.