#and if i said colin bridgerton isn’t a man…. perhaps…. if i said this feels oh so very……… well

[venuseology]

anybody stuck on the fact that Colin told Penelope that he traveled to seventeen cities but told his siblings that he couldn’t remember how many he went to / refused to talk about his travels ………….. sigh

Not only that but also the fact that he was probably so lonely the entire time. Just completely, utterly lonesome. Writing letters to his siblings who complain about his writing style, not receiving any responses from Penelope, he was detached from his taste of interesting, riveting correspondence that he had during his last travels w Penelope and the hunger that seeped from that absence left him starving for it unknowingly.

Even when in the arms of beautiful ladies he didn’t know, he was utterly, completely, alone and unheard and unseen and left chasing for some feeling that he could not grasp or reach. His own insecurities flooded up inside him and left him wondering for something unknown. Looking for the right personality, the right purpose for him to be seen and taken seriously not only by society but also his own family. He doesn’t enjoy adhering to the rules and constructs set up by society but the world does not accept him as he is so he conforms and twists himself up into this fabrication of a person and it works.

Or at the very least, he perceives that it works because Anthony begins to start respecting him and taking him out for celebratory drinks and the ladies seem to swoon at his every word and he isn’t bothering his family about the “unimportant” details of his travels (meaning that he doesn’t speak of his travels to anyone, besides penelope, penelope who encouraged his interests and behaviors and quirks, penelope who embraced him with smiles as bright as early greek mornings that rise with her wit, her beauty, her tenacity.)

His attempt to blend in with the norm has worked, yet he feels oh so alone and empty and unsatisfied. He has been suffering for eons trying to fit in and once he finally reached this goal it’s almost as if… he’s been drained of meaning. It’s almost as if he’s uncomfortable pretending to be this man that society tells him that he must be, as if he doesn’t want to be this man, but instead, wants to simply be, colin.

[quotergirl19]

Colin & Penelope when he finds out she published one last Whistledown column after he assumed she would stop writing once they became betrothed:

Colin: How could you? You risk being found out and bringing scandal on both our families. You are my fiancé! What were you thinking taking such a risk without even talking to me first, we’re supposed to be a team!

Penelope: Don’t worry, the Bridgerton name is safe and you are still free… you don’t have to marry me. Perhaps you’re even a little relieved.

Colin: What?

Penelope: We both know the ton thinks I trapped you. If my secret did get out, no one would question why our engagement was called off and you wouldn’t have to go through with marrying me.

Colin: You… you want to end our betrothal?

Penelope: Everyone knows you never actually wanted me as your wife… you said as much yourself.

Colin: So you never planned to go through with marrying me, and everything between us has been a lie? But you kissed me… and you allowed me to take so many liberties.

Penelope: I have no regrets about what we have done. But I would never force your hand or steal your future, Colin. You deserve to marry someone for love. Not out of pity or friendship or some misguided sense of protectiveness for a girl who you’ve known forever who lacks other prospects… and certainly not because of a few fleeting moments of passion.

Colin: I… I thought you cared for me?

Penelope: It is because I care so deeply that I will not rob you of your future happiness. In time you will see this is for the best. You can travel a bit and one day you will meet a better woman. Someone worthy of both your heart and the Bridgerton name… someone you could truly be proud to call yours.

Colin: You honestly believe it will be easy for me to forget about you… about us. Do you truly think me so fickle hearted?

Penelope: No. Of course not. But you love Marina, it doesn’t matter that we… I know you never…

Colin: Never what? Wanted to kiss you? Or hold you in my arms? Longed for you in my bed? Wanted you by my side for the rest of my life? Imagined building my life with you? Dreamed of having a family with you… of daughters with your smile and sons with your wit?

Penelope: Not until after you kissed me. It was impulsive and we both know you never…

Colin: I missed you so desperately when we were apart that I cut my travels short just to be near you! When you didn’t write to me I was terrified I had lost you forever to another man!

Penelope: You were merely concerned because you left my family without protection when you scared off my cousin Jack. You never planned on…

Colin: Falling in love with my best friend? Well I did.

Penelope: Don’t be ridiculous Colin you never loved me. The only woman you ever loved was Marina. Even after you knew how she deceived you, you longed to be hers, you swore off women because you couldn’t have her. Don’t you think I know the truth? That you are settling for me! Don’t you think I know when you kiss me that you close your eyes and wish they were her lips on yours? Would you honestly condemn me to a lifetime of knowing I will always be second best, when you are the only man I have ever wanted?

Colin: I was an infatuated, foolish boy, manipulated by a scared, desperate young woman who never really cared about me at all. I am not that boy anymore. You are my oldest, most trusted friend. You have been part of my life forever. No other women has ever treated me better or will ever mean what you mean to me. I choose you. I want you. I need you. Only you, Penelope. Forever. When I think of losing you, I feel as though I cannot breathe. So don’t you dare stand there and tell me I will forget you and move on as though losing the love of my life would mean nothing to me.

Penelope: Me? The love of your life?

Colin: Isn’t it obvious?

Penelope: Then you want to marry me?

Colin: As infuriating as your reckless disregard for your own reputation has been, yes. I’m quite mad for you. And I refuse to let you ruin both our lives… so if you don’t stop talking about ending our engagement and promise to never write Whistledown again, I may do something insane like tie you to the bed and have my way with you until you finally see reason and accept that you are the only woman for me. You are not alone anymore, your actions effect both of us.

Penelope: Alright.

Colin: What? You concede the point?

Penelope: Well, I love you… and if you love me as you say you do then I agree to what you ask. But if I simply agree, I fear you won’t believe that I truly intend to do as you wish. So I intend to let you do your worst… before I make my promises.

Colin: You’re going to let me tie you to the bed?

Penelope: I’m afraid I must. For the sake of our future happiness of course. Here, you can use the hideous yellow ribbons my mama insisted on buying me… hopefully they tear, but lock the door first.

Colin: See! What other young lady would let me win an argument and then insist I ravish her while offering up her ribbons to ensure she could not escape. You are utterly mad! …In the best way, let me help you out of that dress.

Penelope: I’ll even let you do that thing you wanted to do in front of the mirror first… light some more candles.

Colin: An offer I cannot refuse… is this how you intend us to make up when we argue once we’re wed?

Penelope: Don’t be ridiculous darling, once we wed I shall always be right.

Colin: How silly of me, of course… happy wife, happy life.

Penelope: Precisely dearest, you’re catching on quite nicely.

[rubysunnday]

driver’s licence

Dear Gentle Reader, tonight is a grand occasion. It is a rare feat for  Lady Danbury to throw a ball for the ton but it is even rarer for the Duke and Duchess of Hastings to be able to attend, what with their ever-growing brood. 

Tonight, however, Dear Reader, these two things are happening in concession. Not only are our beloved Duke and Duchess of Hastings returning to us, but the eldest Bridgerton daughter, Y/N Bridgerton for those who struggle to remember the numerous children’s names, has been seen promenading with Lord Barclay in Hyde Park. 

Perhaps tonight will be Miss Bridgerton’s lucky night and will fulfil the Dowager Viscountess’s wishes of seeing all of her children married. The Viscount Bridgerton has recently been married to, formerly, Miss Kate Sharma - a marriage that seems to be a perfect love match.

Could the 1814 season see two Bridgerton children married in a matter of weeks?

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers, 4th June 1814

If she was being entirely honest with herself - something Y/N rarely did because most of the time it meant that her mother had been right and it meant admitting that she’d been right - she wasn’t expecting to be married off anytime soon. 

Unlike Eloise, Y/N wasn’t entirely opposed to marriage. She wasn’t going to marry just for the sake of it, however. Whoever it ended up being had to be perfect and had to be someone she would happily spend the rest of her life with.

Y/N had two excellent examples of marriage to live up to. Daphne and Simon and Anthony and Kate - both love matches and both couples completely and utterly obsessed with their spouses. 

Lord Barclay had been nice to her. He’d danced with her, promenaded with her and had bought her - and her sister’s and mother - flowers. He was relatively knew to his lordship, his father had passed away the previous year and left his estate and title to his first son. 

Lord Barclay - Matthew, he’d told her to call him Matthew - had a younger brother who was nearer Y/N’s age but she hadn’t seen him anywhere in London. If the ton’s rumours were to be taken as gospel, he’d fled to America to get away from his father and his older brother.

But Y/N didn’t care about him. She liked Lord Barclay and after almost two years out in society and no sign of any marriage offers... well, her mother had always wanted to see all of her children married. 

And if he asked her to marry him - which she suspected would be coming soon - she wouldn’t say no.

But there was a niggling voice in the back of her head (one that sounded suspiciously like her mother and her brother, Colin) that kept asking if she was happy or if she was just settling. 

Colin’s displeasure and hatred of Lord Barclay was evident. He wasn’t admitting why he hated the man but every time his name was brought up or he came over to offer Y/N a dance, Colin would step forward protectively and pull Y/N away - unless another member of the family was around.

Colin was part of the reason why Y/N was having doubts about agreeing to marriage. He’d confided in her one night about how he didn’t want her to just settle and wanted her to be happy. 

But Lady Danbury’s ball was going to be the night she finally decided. Y/N could feel that something was going to happen that night. She was excited to see Matthew again and to, maybe, become his fiancee. 

It’d been a wonderful day. Daphne had joined Y/N, Eloise and their brothers for a ride through Hyde Park. They’d had picnic and then returned home to prepare for the ball that night.

Y/N had chosen one of her favourite new dresses to wear - Matthew had suggested the fabric when he’d accompanied her to the modiste to pick up some new dresses. 

She was excited to see him at the ball and talk to him. He’d been a bit distant, lately, but Y/N put it down to stress about his lordship. But there was still something niggling her in the back of her mind. And it wasn’t Colin, who was yelling up the stairs for her to hurry up. 

The dress was a beautiful lilac with silver flowers and pearls. She had her maid curl and pin her hair up with a circlet of flowers around it and wore the earrings Daphne had given her for her birthday a few months ago.

“You look beautiful, dearest,” Violet said, standing behind Y/N. 

Y/N smiled at her mother in the mirror and brought a hand to the necklace around her neck. It’d been a present from Matthew a few days ago. “It does suit the dress.”

Violet paused, looking as if she was contemplating saying something. “Y/N... are you sure about Lord Barclay?”

Y/N looked around at her mother and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Are you happy with him? You’re not just settling?” Y/N paused. She’d been so certain and now, with her mother voicing the doubts she’d been having since... well, since Monday’s Whistledown had come out and since Colin had spoken to her.

Monday’s Whistledown had mentioned Matthew and had said he’d been seen with a mysterious young woman who most certainly was not Y/N. But she’d just put it down to her being his sister. But now she wasn’t so sure. She loved Matthew, she truly did. But... it was nothing like the love Anthony and Kate had for one another or what Daphne and Simon shared.

“I...” Y/N hesitated, looking down at her shoes. “I don’t want to lie to you, Mama,” she whispered, looking up at her mother, “but I don’t know. Monday’s Whistledown has made me doubt some things. I love him, I do but... well, I doubt it would ever be anything like Anthony or Daphne both have.”

Violet sighed softly and walked over to her daughter, embracing her tightly. Y/N  hid her face against her mother’s side, suddenly overcome with emotions and wrapped her arms around her waist, relishing in the comfort and reassuring she was giving.

But as Y/N walked down the stairs of Bridgerton House, her dress trailing out behind her slightly, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. Her two brother’s - waiting in the hallway for her - stared in awe at her.

There was something so special about a woman in love. She glowed and sparkled as if she was a star on Earth itself. She held herself in higher regard and felt like a queen. Everything seemed a little bit more okay and a little bit happier. 

Even if the doubt was beginning to seep in about whether she did truly love him.

Y/N took Colin’s arm and let him lead her to the carriage. The night was young and the air was warm. She’d never been so excited for a ball before. Kate was coming too - her first ball as Lady Bridgerton. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly. 

Y/N tried to ignore the niggling feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t going to let it ruin her night. Even if she hadn’t heard from Matthew since Monday. And even if Colin’s mere presence was making it worse.

She tried not to make it obvious that she was looking for Matthew as they walked in to the room. But he was nowhere to be seen, despite promising he would be there. 

The majority of the night was spent on the edge of the ballroom, watching Anthony whirl Kate around the room in newly wedded bliss. Y/N danced with Simon and Benedict and chatted with Penelope and Eloise - who’d been forced to attend and was making sure everyone in a five mile radius was aware of that fact - and pretended not to be worried. 

But she was worried. Had she been so caught up with being in love that she’d missed the red signs that screamed at her to stop and re-consider. 

Anthony had noticed his sister’s increasing distress and had stopped dancing with his wife, walking over to his sister and standing next to her, shoulders touching.

“He’ll come, Y/N/N,” Anthony said, noting his sister look around the room yet again. 

Y/N nodded, not really paying much attention to him. She’d seen the pitying stares from the mothers of the ton and was beginning to dread what Whistledown was going to say tomorrow. 

Kate finished talking with someone and walked over to them, standing next to her husband. She looked at Y/N and then nudged Anthony’s side. “Do something,” she whispered, glancing at her sister - in - law in concern. 

Anthony sighed. “I don’t know what I can do, Kate.” He glanced back at Y/N. “If he does turn up, however, don’t hold me back.”

“If anything you’ll have to hold me back,” Kate replied.

Five minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

Then another five.

Benedict joined them in what was quickly becoming knowing as ‘Bridgerton corner’. He glanced at Y/N, then at Anthony. Anthony shook his head, warning him not to say anything. Benedict simply sat down next to his sister and causally flung his arm over the chair, pretending to subconsciously drum his fingers on her shoulder when he was actually trying to comfort her.

Colin came over with Eloise and Violet and soon every Bridgerton in attendance at Lady Danbury’s ball was standing in the corner, waiting.

Another ten minutes passed.

Y/N stood up and grabbed a glass of Lemonade from the table. She took a sip of the sour liquid and tried not make a face at the tangy taste in her mouth. 

Not liking the flavour of it she handed it off to Colin - her brother ate and drank almost anything put in front of him. Colin silently took it and shifted closer to Y/N, knowing his gut feeling about Lord Barclay had, unfortunately, been right.

Violet looked over at Y/N and sighed. “This isn’t going well,” she said quietly, leaning closer to Anthony and Kate.

“No, it isn’t,” Anthony replied, glowering at any one who dared approach them in their corner. 

“Oh, he’s here!” Y/N exclaimed, perking up as she spotted Matthew as he walked in the main door. “I’ll be back.”

Y/N began heading over to Matthew, weaving her way through the numerous dancers and chatting guests.

“Matthew!” She called, approaching him by the door to the garden. “Where have you been? Come on, I put you down on my dance card.”

She held out her gloved hand to him to take but frowned when he turned and gave her a frown.

Matthew shifted on his feet, an uncomfortable expression appearing on his face. “Ah, Miss Bridgerton.”

Y/N paused, dropping her hand. “Miss Bridgerton? Matthew, what is going on?”

Matthew sighed, looking as if it physically pained him to have to explain. “I don’t want to see you anymore, Miss Bridgerton. I have found another woman  - one my family approves of -”

“Your family doesn’t approve of me?” Y/N asked slowly, struggling to comprehend what was happening. “What -”

“I apologise for any inconvenience caused this evening,” Matthew said, bowing. “I wish you well, Miss Bridgerton.” 

“Matthew -” 

Y/N reached out to grab his hand but he brushed past her, walking across the room and disappearing off into the corridor, leaving Y/N standing alone in the corner, her brain trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Anthony slowly approached, having watched the entire conversation. He’d heard what Lord Barclay had said and had seen the way he stared at his sister - as if she was nothing more than an inconvenience. 

“Y/N/N?” Anthony asked quietly, putting a hand on her arm. “What happened?”

“He... he’s found someone else,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Someone his family approves of. I - what...”

Y/N trailed off, stunned and in shock. Anthony sighed, clenching his hand in anger. He glanced up at his mother, who was hovering worriedly nearby, and shook his head once.

Y/N couldn’t form the words to speak. She just stood there, Anthony's hand on her arm being the one thing keeping her grounded.

The room was beginning to whisper and point at Y/N, all wondering what had happened. Anthony noticed a few beginning to wonder over and grabbed Y/N’s hand, gently tugging her forward and to the centre of the room.

Whilst a dance was the last thing either of them wanted - it was the only way to get away from the prying eyes and the endless questions and pitying stared of the Ton. 

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked quietly, guiding her hands to the correct position and helping her take one step forward. 

Y/N, not wanting to be seen crying in the ballroom, forced a smile onto her face and lifted her head up high, breathing in deeply despite the lump in her throat and the stinging in her eyes and the urge she felt to curl up into a ball and sob. “Of course.”

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Every time Anthony spun her way, Y/N allowed her facade to crack for just a second. It hurt. Her chest felt tight and every breath was constricted.  Everything hurt.

He’d discarded her to the side like she was a piece of rubbish and as if she was nothing. He’d played with her and showered her with gifts and love and compliments and it’d all been a lie. 

Matthew had lied. He’d lied. 

The words rang around her head like a mantra and it was beginning to consume her. Anthony spun her out and back into him but she almost fell to the floor, her knees beginning to weaken as her body and mind caught up. 

Anthony caught her and held her up, looking down at her blank, emotionless face as she tried not to crack.

Y/N focused on each step - the way her feet rose to the tip toes and then back down to her heel as she stepped back and forth, side to side, up and down. She focused on Anthony’s hand in hers, the warmth of his palm, the familiar, comforting scent of his aftershave.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

The lights blurred past, the numerous people dancing around her becoming one solid merge of colour. 

She couldn’t breathe. Her stays felt tight and uncomfortable - even though she knew they weren’t. The necklace she was wearing felt like it was choking her - cutting off the air she need.

Her dress was too tight, too long, her gloves too thick and too heavy.

Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Y/N didn’t remember much of the dancing - she wasn’t even sure how she was moving one foot in front of the other. Anthony was watching her with concern in his eyes and was leading her and guiding her every step of the way. 

The music was too loud. The candles were too bright. Everything was an overwhelming blur of orange, red, blue and yellow. Her eyes stung as finally, her mind and body came to the same conclusion.

It was over. He was gone and she was free and her entire future was non-existent and she was alone and unmarried and free.

Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe

The song ended and before the last notes had even faded away, Y/N was pushing away from Anthony and past her mother and Colin and out the door, running down the corridor away from everyone.

Her shoes echoed loudly on the tiles and she skidded around the corner into the room that had been set aside for the women. Y/n slammed the door shut behind her and panted and sobbed, clutching the edge of the sink tightly. 

She looked in the mirror, her breaths harsh and ragged, and clawed at the necklace Y/N ran down a corridor and into the room that had been set aside for women who need to freshen up or fix their dresses. 

She slammed the door shut behind her and hurried over to the washroom, clawing at the necklace around her neck desperate for air and desperate for it to be out of sight.

I know we weren't perfect But I've never felt this way for no one

The clasp eventually gave way and Y/N flung the necklace to the side, taking in ragged, harsh breaths as she sobbed and clutched the sink to keep standing. 

Her heart hurt. Her chest hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. She couldn’t breathe, couldn't think, could barely see her reflection in the mirror.

She slowly sank to her knees, leaning against the edge of the sink as she curled up and sobbed and sobbed and hyperventilated and sobbed.

It was over. She was free and he was gone.

And I just can't imagine How you could be so okay now that I'm gone.

The door to the side room opened and Violet burst in. She took one look at her daughter - eyes red, skin blotchy, neck scratched from trying to take off her necklace - and ran over to her daughter, falling to her knees beside her and taking her in her arms. 

Y/N clung to her mother tightly as if she were her lifeline in the stormy dark sea she was drowning in. She buried her face in her shoulder and cried and cried.

Anthony stood in the doorway to the room, Colin next to him, and felt his own heart break as he watched his sister fall apart on the floor.  

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

[ay44t]

pov: eloise after the pall mall closing scene in bridgerton 2x08

: ̗̀➛ _________________________ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Eloise had spent the entire pall mall game observing her brother Anthony’s newfound personality. The last time she had seen him this content was when she was only five years of age. Anthony would swing her up on his shoulders and play with her endlessly, that is until her father Edmund bridgerton passed away, and he was too busy to ever even speak to her. Though she didn’t mind it too much, she was much closer with her brother, Benedict who was of course her favorite sibling. Unfortunately, even Benedict couldn’t make Anthony smile as Kate had done in these past few months – they were both curious. But while Benedict understood that Anthony had just fallen in-love, Eloise knew there had to be more to it. 

As Kate and Anthony clung to one another as they walked inside to their bedroom, Eloise tapped Kate on the shoulder requesting to speak to her. With a wide smile across her face, Kate sent Anthony to go walk Newton with Gregory and Hyancith, and took Eloise by the hand. Eloise had never met someone as interesting as Kate. Kate Sharma, now Kate Bridgerton, was everything Eloise dreamt of being: strong-willed, determined, obstinate, gentle, happy. Kate was her role-model and really, the only person who could help Eloise is a difficult time like this, and perhaps she would spill her secrets of how she was able to change a stubborn rake like Anthony Bridgerton.

The two sister’s sat in the sunlight, sipping tea as they started a discussion.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Kate began, her mind fully wrapped around whatever it was that Eloise wanted to discuss.

Eloise thought about what she even wanted from Kate at this moment, could she tell her everything that had been going on between her and Penelope? Or about the guy she had possible fallen in-love with? There was so much to tell her but what if Kate wasn’t the one who she could trust?

“Colin had told me that you and Penelope haven’t spoken in a while,” Kate said, interrupting her thoughts, “Are you two alright?” 

Eloise took a deep breath before speaking,

“Well, that is sort of what I wanted to speak about,” Eloise replied, “But you must promise not to tell anyone, not even Anthony.”

“There are no secrets between us, but if you wish for me not to tell him, I won’t.” she said, with a wink, reassuring Eloise.

Eloise sipped her warm tea as she was about to tell Kate something that she wouldn’t have ever dreamt of saying outloud.

“I know who Lady Whistledown is.” she said calmly with excitement in her eyes.

Kate nearly spit our her tea as she looked at Eloise, shocked.

“Eloise, I thought you had ended your hunt for Whisledown after last seasons.. events.” Kate said worriedly.

“Of course I did, and I didn’t even want to believe it myself when I had found out who it was,” Eloise replied.

“Well, who is it?”

“Penelope Featherington,” Eloise said with a gloomy look.

Kate sighed, “and this is the reason the two of you are not speaking, I presume”

Eloise nodded slowly as the viscountess looked at her with a confused look, would Kate know what to do?

“Eloise, tell me, are you going to tell anyone your best friends secret,” Kate asked

“My best friends secret which I did not even know until I figured it out, and no I was not planning to tell anyone but the queen of England who currently despises my presence.” 

“You’re going to rat out your friend to her Majesty?” Kate said shocked, “that doesn’t sound like you.”

“It isn’t like me, except Penelope didn’t just harm the Ton with her silly gossip sheet, she broke my relationship with a man I truly cared for.” Eloise suddenly gasped as she realized that she said too much.

“Forget about that,” she quickly says, “I won’t rat Pen out, I was just feeling.. rebellious, now I really do have another book to finish reading so if you’ll excuse me,” Kate, with wide and interested eyes, is suddenly intrigued in this mysterious man Eloise has been seeing secretively.

“Theo Sharpe?” Kate said, “i never realized you had a true affection with him, but it seems that you are in love, Eloise!”

“In-love, me, with a stubborn, good for nothing, man?” Eloise gasps, “You’re going a bit too far,”

Kate smirks as Eloise tries to hide the shade of her embarrassment. They continued their conversation for at least another hour.

Finally, as Eloise realized how many secrets she had spilled in a few moments, Anthony entered the room to drag Kate away.

“Oh its been so long since I’ve seen my darling wife,” Anthony says, “Please Eloise what are the two of you even speaking about?”

Kate smiles at Anthonys mourning as she tells him that sister talk is always a secret, leaving him dumbfounded. Eloise leaves the two of them, before she had to witness a romance session. 

[shroomonabroom]

chapter two | eloise bridgerton does not play cards

archiveofourown

word count: 3,181

summary: Eloise might not play cards, but she’s determined to win this game. If only her mother would stop gossiping and give her enough time to speak to Kate and Benedict.

Eloise Bridgerton is not a fool. 

Of course, she has done foolish things, but that does not make the very being. One of the many foolish things she has done is coming to London two weeks late under the assumption that she can speak to her family of her troubles immediately, rather than getting caught up for nearly five hours in the disastrous affair that is the gossip of the ton.

“You have much to catch up on,” is what her mother had said. Yet somehow, Eloise had misjudged just how much there would be, an error she should certainly know not to make after nineteen years of being in Violet Bridgerton’s company.

So perhaps she is a fool.

But at least she is not the only one. After all, it’s not like any of her brothers look especially excited to hear her mother drone on and on, trying her best to inform Eloise of trivial things she most certainly doesn’t care to know at this very moment. 

Her brothers look positively bored - even Gregory and Hyacinth had claimed exhaustion and have since gone off to bed, never mind that they were not the ones who sat in a carriage for some time before the dreadful gossiping began.

Eloise has things, important things, to say and to do. None of these things include the latest Lady Whistledown paper or the fact that the Prince is in London for the season - though the question of why does linger in the recesses of her mind. 

She’s sure her mother will tell her soon if she hasn’t already - afterall, the last time the Prince was in London was to find a wife; something he nearly achieved with Daphne if not for Eloise’s brother-in-law, Simon.

Princely business aside, the very last thing Eloise Bridgerton wants to do is shop for new gowns to “catch the gaze and heart of a suitor” - as her mother keeps saying - but that seems to be the plan for tomorrow. 

Eloise thinks she might prefer if the Queen called for her death as a response to her galavanting about with political radicals. 

Alas, the Queen hasn’t done much of anything at all, and so Eloise must deal with her mother and the thousands of silks (and later, men) she’ll undoubtedly have the modiste throw upon her tomorrow morning.

“Darling,” Violet says, capturing Eloise’s attention and distracting her from her thoughts. “Now that you have had time to prepare for the season, do you think you might be willing to try to partake appropriately? I know you have your reservations about marriage, but I do think this season will treat you particularly well - if we can avoid future scandal especially.”

Eloise is hesitant to answer - how can she? If she says she is willing to try, her mother will do more than parade suitors in front of her, she would actually expect Eloise to marry by the end of the season, and Eloise is not at all prepared to be made into some sweet and mild-mannered wife. And if she says no, then she might have to explain why, an answer she is not quite ready to give. At least not to her mama, Anthony, Colin, and Francesca.

“Mama, perhaps this is a better-suited conversation for a future day when Eloise isn’t so tired from her travels?” Francesca asks, and Eloise feels terribly guilty for wanting to keep her in the dark. 

It’s not that Fran wouldn’t keep her secret if needed, but, well, she is more reserved than Eloise. And she, like Daphne - and very much unlike Eloise - actually wants to have children and get married to some wealthy man who can provide for her. 

For Anthony and Colin, Eloise is worried most about how they might react to her words - if they might go and hurt Theo in some foolish attempt at protecting her honor. For Francesca and Violet, Eloise wants to avoid judgment from her younger sister and mother. 

It’s difficult enough being the sole daughter of four who does not wish for a husband or child, let alone one who cares for a working man - one who would not be able to provide for her and would instead introduce her to even more “improper” manners of thought.

“Yes,” Kate agrees with Francesca and, to Eloise’s utmost alarm, stands from her seat on the couch next to her husband. “I think I, too, am rather tired, and I should retire to my bedroom before I fall asleep in front of you all.”

“I’ll join you soon,” Anthony says quietly, smiling lovingly up at his wife. 

Eloise is still sitting on the opposite couch, panicking silently over the turn of events. Between her mother’s inquiries and her utter lack of control over what she wanted to happen tonight versus what has, Eloise feels hopeless to do nothing but bear witness and long for the early days of last season, when her only concern was presenting in front of the Queen.

How bizarre, to prefer the Queen’s judgmental gaze over that of her mother’s. Kate leaves the room, smiling sweetly and, somehow entirely oblivious to Eloise’s internal crisis, at Eloise before ascending the stairs.

Kate’s exit provides the slightest lull in the conversation, and Eloise knows that now is the time to take advantage of it and try her hand, even if that means only speaking to one of the two people she intended to.

“I’m off to bed,” she says, catching Benedict’s eyes and nodding subtly. His eyes twinkle in response, the slightest twitch of his lips indicating his agreement to meet her.

In all the times he’s come to her rescue, Eloise has never been so glad for their connection. She truly loves that she can do this, this wordless communication, with him and much of the rest of those closest to her. She misses this same thing with Penelope, but she is determined to do what she can to get it back, at least in part if not entirely. 

Tonight will help. It must.

She bids her family good night and hurries up the stairs and into a grand hallway before entering his room opposite her own. She sits on a chair poised near his easel and waits there impatiently for several minutes before a subtle knock at the door catches her attention from the latest of his works.

“Finally,” Eloise says as she opens the door to a smiling Benedict. 

He snorts and enters the room, quietly shutting the door behind him and motioning that they continue the conversation across the room and, curiously, opposite the easel and seat he used to prefer to speak at; where he can work and chatter (and whatever else) all at the same time.

“What our mother did not mention, in some misguided attempt to avoid Anthony’s discomfort - was that the Prince is here to make the acquaintance of Miss Edwina.” Her brother says conspiratorially.

Eloise cackles at that. “As if Anthony is discomforted by much of anything right now, the besotted fool that he is!”

They laugh together for some time before sobering and growing more serious.

“Your newest painting, it’s wonderful, Benedict,” Eloise says. 

It's an attempt to delay the conversation, though it is truthful.

The painting is wild, indescribable to Eloise’s untrained gaze. But the emotions - no artistic talent or training is necessary to feel the frustration and sorrow that bleeds from the canvas. 

It’s surprising, too - not just in the quality of work, but also that it’s here, in Benedict’s bedroom rather than his studio down the hall. Eloise suspects that that door is shut and locked, though - and that he likely hasn’t stepped foot in it at all this season, never mind the grander one in Aubrey Hall in the ten months before this season began.

Benedict has been feeling just as poorly as Eloise ever since he learned of Anthony’s deception and quit his art studies. Eloise thought he stopped painting, too - that he now relied less on that and more on poetry and the bottle to ease his mind. 

She’s glad - relieved, really - to see otherwise, even if it’s only a small painting done in the safety of his bedroom rather than with all the reminders his studio would provide.

“Thank you,” Benedict says quietly, as if he’s ashamed.

Eloise frowns, opening her mouth to ask why when Benedict redirects her attention by asking the very thing she came here for and the very last thing she wants to speak about. 

And so Eloise paces instead of answering. She paces back and forth across the floor at least a hundred times before finally gaining the courage she so desperately needs to speak to her brother.

“I wanted to speak to Kate, too. That way, I can approach Anthony about it with both of you to assist me.” She’s still pacing across the floor as she says it, and so Benedict places his hands on her shoulders and turns her towards him.

She’s confused for a moment until he puts a finger to his mouth in a shushing motion, and then “oh,” Eloise says, remembering that the oak floorboards tend to creak with overuse. She is trying to be quiet, after all.

“Right,” she says and then continues as quick - and as quiet - as her mouth will allow her to be. “So, there’s quite a bit to say. I’m going to say it all now. If I can just - well, so-”

“Breathe, Eloise. Whatever it is you have to say to me will not be such a big deal as to steal your breath with no consequence.”

“Do you intend to fight my words on behalf of my lungs, then?”

“Perhaps. Now, go on. You’re delaying it.”

“I am.” She huffs, “and for a good reason. The article Lady Whistledown wrote about me last season. It’s true.”

“Oh.” Her brother says, and Eloise glares at his interruption.

“Oh.” She says pointedly and smiles at his slightly sheepish expression. “It’s true - I was unaccompanied with political radicals, though I argue that the thoughts they had are hardly radical at all; rather, they should be standard. But what Lady Whistledown didn’t mention is that one of them, in particular, was the reason I was really there - the reason I felt I could go. A printer. Well, a printer’s assistant.”

“Oh? Did my sister begin a romance, then? An affair of the mind?” Benedict’s voice is teasing, and Eloise huffs yet again, frustrated that he does not entirely understand the severity of the issue - and instead is focusing on something as… as trivial as her feelings for Theo. 

Her feelings for Theo are not trivial, not really - and Eloise is fully aware of this. But she’s also rather panicked at the moment, so Benedict’s attempt at lightening her nerves is instead doing the exact opposite, causing her to grow more and more flustered.

“I - no. No, I did not. I did - do - like him, though. He’s smart. And kind. And… But - but that’s not the point. Pen knew of my seeing him. And she warned me against it. She told me that the ton was gossiping about me already, something I knew wasn’t yet true. She was trying to protect me from everyone, or maybe she was trying to protect herself. I still don’t know. And then, then the Queen suggested that I was Lady Whistledown - that that was why I had been visiting the print shop. Which, yes - I originally started visiting Theo because of Lady Whistledown, because I suspected she was soliciting his work for her papers. That was true; I found out later. But I visited him for more than my search for Lady Whistledown. I liked speaking to him - he had new ideas I had not considered; ones that called for equality for men and women but between and within all classes, too.”

“You really do like him, don’t you?”

“He set aside books for me.” She squeaks, and Benedict suddenly understands.

“The four on your bedside table? The ones you won’t let anyone touch?”

“Yes,” she says, embarrassed but unwilling to apologize - not for trying to hold on to what little she has left of Theo and their connection. The single word and all of its implications is a mere whisper as it escapes her mouth and hangs stagnant in the air between them. 

“And Lady Whistledown-” 

Eloise stops, because… no, she can’t tell him - can’t tell anyone - of that, could she? It would be a relief to her own mind, of course. But it would put Pen in danger, in actual, true danger. From the Queen, from her brothers. From just about anyone she’s offended as the gossip writer - which, at this point, is nearly the whole ton, or at least those who have the power to destroy her life.

No, Eloise would tell him everything else, everything except for Penelope’s identity as Lady Whistledown.

“It was my fault, the way I ended things with Theo. But much of it had to do with Lady Whistledown. Her rumor and the Queen’s suspicions brought the ton’s attention to him, and...” It is the truth, and it is indeed a large concern of hers, even if it’s not the whole truth or the entire concern she has to address. “I want to see him again. To return his books, at the very least. But I worry about his safety - it’s why I stopped seeing him to begin with.”

“Do you have a plan, then? To ensure this Theo’s safety.”

“No. Not yet. I was hoping to speak to Anthony first, to make sure that he was aware of my intentions and that he would not interfere.” 

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady as she explains even more of her predicament.

“Penelope and I - we fought. After I learned that Lady Whistledown did print at Theo’s shop and then she wrote about us, which cleared my name in the eyes of the Queen but ruined it all the same in the eyes of the ton and the Queen both. And I - Penelope and I haven’t spoken since. I was angry at her, and she was angry at me, and it was all just a mess of secrets and hurt feelings and this - this feeling of betrayal, really. And I want to go back in time and fix it all, but I just… I can’t. So, instead, I need to move forward and try to fix everything if I can just figure out how to. But it feels utterly and entirely impossible. So I need to tell you and Kate and Anthony and whoever else I can without putting anyone in danger to try to fix this because as much as I want to, I do not think I can do it alone.” Eloise is rambling, frustrated tears caught in her blue eyes.

She feels miserable. She’s felt miserable - ever since she walked away from Theo and then discovered her closest friend’s awful secret and fought with her. The world has been playing a cruel game with her, and Eloise, as determined as she is to win, has terrible luck.

Benedict pulls her to him in an embrace, trying his best to calm his little sister. He’s quiet for a moment, likely trying to figure out what to say; what to do. His embrace has the opposite effect - it causes those tears of frustration to spill over into a mortifying cry.

“I don’t know how our family will take it,” Eloise says into his chest, tears soaking into the fabric of his white button-up. At least it's not paint, she thinks, but then she thinks some more about why it’s not paint and finds that is even more so a reason to cry.

“Eloise-”

“I don’t know how our family will react, and I need to tell them if I want a chance to fix it all, but I worry that telling them will be the very thing that results in its utter ruin, and you haven’t been feeling well either, and I’m just throwing all of this awfulness-”

“Eloise,” Benedict says firmly, ignoring her last words and, instead, pulling his sister away from him and looking into her eyes. “I don’t know how our family will react. In any case, you won’t be thrown out, and I’ll be here to back you up if necessary. It’ll be alright. And if it isn’t-”

He dramatically pauses for a moment, making sure Eloise is genuinely listening.

“Then we will figure it out, Eloise. Together.” Benedict says finally, and Eloise finds it impossible to restrain her sigh of relief or the tears still streaming down her pale face.

She is relieved by his response. But she’s frustrated by it, too, because Benedict is helping her with her pain and ignoring his own, and it is something she wants desperately to help remedy.

It’s not fair that she and her brother feel so miserable meanwhile Daphne and Anthony are doing what they love to do and are free to be with their partners and seem so much happier - not that they don’t deserve to feel like that, too. But it would be nice if everyone had that same freedom.

Eloise is determined to try her best to resolve all of these things this season. And should she fail then so be it; at least she has her brother and John and Sarah by her side.

“Thank you, Benedict. Truly.”

He nods at her and she sniffles and wipes her face on the sleeve of her cape in a feeble attempt to regain some sense of composure. Her family may argue that she is one for emotional outbursts, but Eloise does not like to cry in front of others - that is best saved for the safety and non-judgment of her bedroom walls.

Benedict is quiet, letting his sister do what she needs to feel more settled after revealing the secrets that have plagued her for months.

She sniffles a final time and smiles shakily at him, comforted by his kindness and her own determination to succeed.

Benedict winks at her and opens his mouth to say, “I’ll speak to Kate on your behalf tomorrow, when you’re off shopping.” He’s grinning as he says it, teasing her with the very thing she almost succeeded in forgetting about in her rambling explanation and embarrassing breakdown.

Eloise groans at the reminder and stomps around in a quiet imitation of a bull en pointe, prompting a laugh from her brother and helping to lift the heavy mood her words and their implications have caused. 

Benedict smiles at her as she eventually stops her little tantrum and sighs at him, crossing her arms across her chest. “Fine, then. Thank you,” she repeats before promptly turning on her heel and striding across the oak floor to the door.

She waits there for all of a second before - “good night,” Benedict calls, and Eloise responds in kind before she slips away from his room and into her own across the hall.

[bleulone]

Can we talk about about how Colin looked in ep 1 when he first saw Marina compared to how he looked when he saw Pen in ep 8. Almost the exact same look! Of course his look to Penelope is probably more about his guilt because he brushed her off when she tried to warn him but still..progress! Lol and then when he's getting ready to leave for Greece, he glanced towards Penelope's home. I think they're having Colin's feelings for her grow gradually in the show instead of all of a sudden like in the books.

Hey! Thank you for this insightful ask of yours :) Sorry for the late answer, I took a long time to write this— without further ado, here we go!

Indeed, Polin is first and foremost a story of gazes, those gazes being of many natures. Whether they are love ones, friendly ones, admirative ones or lustful ones, looking imposes itself to be a huge parameter in Penelope and Colin’s love story.

In order to understand that on screen, film-making has at its disposal a very rich and smart langage of its own. Sometimes, comparision helps to underlines the differences between one character’s relationship with person A mirorring person B. I feel like Shondaland and Chris Van Dussen wanted to introduce the audience to the evolution of our Bridgerton men’s perception of Love. For instance, while Anthony views attachement— to Siena— as a way to escape his responsibilities before becoming his villain (...until our queen ma’am Kate Sheffield comes to the picture), Benedict doesn’t comprehend this universal concept and prefers to enjoy the many physical pleasures life can offer. In other words, the older brothers already explored their sexuality here and there, making them the infamous rakes that they are. As for Colin, it’s a complete other thing.

Colin is young. Very young. At 21, he’s just left Eton College and barely knows anything of the world nor women. Like Anthony said in 1x06, Colin hasn’t been taken to brothels which is a very important step in the building of young men’s sentimental and sexual education during that time period. Since he missed this essential step, our sweet/immature boy has no clue about how to deal sagaciously with his feelings and his “foolish” impulses, baring his naivety. At this point of the story, we can easily come to the conclusion that Colin is a virgin who can’t drive XD. He’s just a child overcame by his passions, a hopelessly romantic who rushes things without taking the time to properly court or know his significant other. And his off-screen flirtation with those supposed numerous girls in London isn’t of any help to justify his (oh so little) experience. So when he sees Marina, he’s so struck by her... mainly by her alluring appearance. And he doesn’t seem to let his eyes nor mind go beyond her exquisite beauty.

In this perspective, the whole Colin/Marina storyline can be perceived as a parallelism to the Pen/Colin’s one. In 1x01, he is immediatley smitten with a dancing Miss Thompson, which happens to be ironically the same case with a 17 year-old Pen but with him. We got to see her, a few moments ago, dreamily looking at him from the back of the dancefloor (echoeing the episode where she fell madly in love with him after he fell off his horse at Hyde Park). She’s charmed by his dashing look and his kindness, yet she doesn’t seem to know anything else about him considering the rare conversations they share. Her burning gaze fits the original story from Julia Quinn’s books because in Romancing Mister Bridgerton, the 28 year-old spinster Penelope do realize later on that Colin is more than a good looking man : he’s a human who possesses a temper and flaws.

Either way, both of our boos are portrayed as hopelessly young people in love who childishly idealize the objects of their affection.

In 1x08, it’s the other way around. It’s Colin who sees Pen first, her who appears to wear the yellow dress’ lookalike from the pilot—what an interesting call back ^^. With his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open, we can catch sight of the timid spark of a change in his gaze : Colin Bridgerton notices Penelope Featherington. He‘s touched by the realization that she cares about him. It would be rather inappropriate of me to say that Colin is already in love with her. However, in the finale, I do believe that he’s more struck by her high level of deep care for him than her beauty.

We are thus able to spot two big differences in Colin’s relationship with women in this season : when his attraction to Marina was purely physical and rushed, his attraction with Penelope is more emotional and slow. And for now, he comes to cherish his special bond with her, especially after she tried to warn him of the dangerous trap he was about to fall into. Even if he just sees her as his younger sister’s best friend right now, Pen matters in his life. And it’s still a little yet important progress for sure.

Speaking of which, I agree with you that this look of awe as well as realization is mostly mixed up with guilt. Since he didn’t take into account her words, he felt the strong need to apologize. But bear in mind that guilt formulates a considerable part in Colin’s feelings for Pen... and it’s only the very beginning. In the future, he’ll blame himself for not seeing her as the beautiful goddess and siren that she is in the first place. He’ll blame himself for not reciprocating the feelings for her.... Though at the moment, due to his lack of experience with women, Colin is oblivious to Pen’s obvious signs of sorrow when he told her he’s leaving for Greece/Cyprus. Next time, he’ll detect her sadness and won’t let her go, I’m sure of it (if he doesn’t I’ll riot).

Furthermore, I’m so glad you brought up the scene where Colin glances at the Featherington house. I had the same thought as well. When you put this still and the one where Pen is crying while looking at her window side by side, it even seems like they’re looking at each other. In a way, it implicitly confirms Pen’s key role in his final decision... After all, she’s the one who inadvertently inspired him right ?

The act of traveling has always been seen as cathartic since leaving home to discover yourself allows you to heal your broken heart and soul. It’s natural for Colin to do this. To make his first real steps into the world. His choice is quite relatable more than it is essential for his arc in the series. I can’t wait for him to come back all changed, hot ^^ and mature. I think, like you said, they are planning on making him progressively falling in love with her. Colin’s feelings will gradually leave the platonic zone to explore and officially stay in the intimate zone throughout the seasons.

Overall, the Colin/Marina and Colin/Penelope parallel in s1 mostly helps viewers to compare the way Colin evolves from being a stubborn naive boy to a heartbroken young man who’s aware of his crutial need for Experience. His coming of age, just like Pen’s, has just begun. And they will surely lead to our boy changing himself into the true charming rake that he’s meant to be and our girl into a more confident woman. Consequently, I think their story won’t take 10 years but rather at the very least 5 years perhaps to fit the TV timeline. Once Polin will finally be able to discuss, we’ll hopefully get to see more interesting nuances and shades added to the portrait they painted of one another over the years. They’re indispensable to the slow build up of their emotions/attraction as well as the shattering of their childish idealization/perception of each other.

All in all, I’m so loving the fact that season 1 beautifully sets up the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story. This first installment is like an expository scene of a play. It leaves a trail of clues and pieces of information here and there at the reach every viewers who can pick them up and analyze what can be the main themes which will determine one character’s story arc/romance. With Polin we have : admiration, wit, love and friendship, desillusionment. (I know they are more but it’s all I can think of rn lol).

If we’re already emotional messes just with the mere power of them looking at each other, imagine when they’ll actually talk and share real conversations. It’s going to be a long way to canon but luv me some good fluffy angsty steamy slow burn :) ✨ I hope this long of mine answers your ask ahah, even if I talked about many things other than just Polin’s looks. Also, sorry if you spot some grammatical mistakes, English is not my first language.

[newtonsheffield]

I'm absolutely in loveeeeeeee w the latest pictures of the Bridgerton cast at the Wimbledon.

Specifically the picture of Simone and Jonathan

It has a very Kate and Anthony vibe to it!

Could you please tell us how all of this went down in the BSCU?

Anon asked: gah have you seen the pics of Simone, Jonny and Nicola at Wimbledon?? any chance we can get some headcanons of that??

Anon asked: After yesterday’s amazing photos of Wimbledon - Jonny and Simone looked incredible 😍🔥 (and Nicola of course) any chance of a little snippet?

Okay! Okay! Jonny, Simone, love and adore you, your very close height match is sending me, I cannot it's too cute. Also Jonathan, Sir, no one is supposed to look so good in a linen suit. Bloody Red card! It's not fair!

Kate hadn't gone with him the first year they were together. They'd been together not very long, and they both agreed that this was too public and event to go to without it being some kind of comment on their relationship. Not that Anthony hadn't tried. "I'm sure you could go with Edwina! She must be able to get tickets, and we could just be there together... separately." Kate had laughed, and rolled her eyes at her very cute new boyfriend who was giving her a very good attempt at Puppy dog eyes from his position with his chin on her stomach. "And you'd be able to see me, in a nice dress and not touch? That would be okay with you?" Anthony's brow furrowed for a second before he said "Well alright then, you better not come."

And maybe it was something she should have realised, but she didn't realise that the Bridgertons went to Wimbledon every year until Anthony said "We're going to go to Wimbledon on the 5th this year is that alright?" and she'd stilled, her head shooting up from the book she'd been reading. Anthony's brow furrowed. "Do you have something on? It's just... if you do it's not on our joint calendar." He looked so puzzled, so confused, as though he was missing something though Kate had the nagging feeling that she was. "I just... I didn't know we were going to Wimbledon." She said quietly, and Anthony's eyes had widened, nervous suddenly. "Oh! You don't... I usually take my Mum and Ben is a huge tennis fan so we usually... you don't have to come if you don't want to." and really, though Kate knew absolutely nothing about tennis she found herself smiling. "I should have known you were a Wimbledon family is all, that's something the fantastically wealthy do isn't it?" Anthony rolled her eyes as she continued "i'll have to have my maid set out my diamond parure for the event." and as he waved her off and stalked from the room she could have sworn he muttered "If I have my way you'll be fantastically wealthy soon enough Mrs Bridgerton."

And really, when he stood in their bedroom and she tied his tie, and buttoned his linen waistcoat, saying There so handsome. Before she kissed his forehead, just like she did every day, her heart fluttered anyway. Fluttered when they stood with his family, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, as he whispered You look really beautiful today, Katie in her ear. But even so it was hard not to feel just a little out of place amongst England's elite. As if she'd somehow wandered in accidentally, and soon someone would realise and she'd be shown the door. Instead she listened again and again as Anthony introduced her to people he knew with "Now, I don't think you've met my beautiful girlfriend Kate before have you?" And Violet tugged her over to meet some of her friends with "Now this is Kate, and she puts up with Anthony and so for that we're really very thankful. He's a sweet boy but he really is a handful." And Benedict sat and explained between polite applause and the occasional curse why really, this man shouldn't be winning this match at all. And well... Colin was a little too busy pretending not to stare at Penelope Featherington to pay attention to her.

"It's a really very good thing you didn't come last year." Anthony whispered in her ear after they'd had their picture taken for the hundredth time today. "Because if you looked like this I definitely would not have been able to keep my hands off you." Silence stretched between them for a moment, their eyes locked together "Kate I-" And for the barest second Kate wondered if she was finally about to see what was in the box hidden between all of his sweaters. "Kate I really really love you." And Kate tried not to feel disappointed, tried to tell herself she wouldn't have wanted it to happen here anyway as she said "i love you too." And when their lips touch he tastes likes strawberries and cream and she suddenly feels a little stupid fr having denied herself this lsst year.

And the next day when she looks in the newspaper and sees the picture of her and Anthony with Penelope, Anthony looking unbearably handsome in his suit, his arm around her, perhaps it's wishful thinking but she can't help but think how right they look together.

[invisibleinorange]

Swelter Weather | 6/?

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Marina Thompson/Phillip Crane, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane, Kate Sheffield/Anthony Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Phillip Crane, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

It was a little wrong to sneak out and leave Eloise alone with a man that she’d just met but Penelope was willing to wager that their friendship would survive this slight.  They’d had plenty of disagreements over the years and they nearly always made up. Nine times out of ten, their disagreements revolved around little secrets that Penelope wasn’t quite prepared to divulge and Eloise failing to be observant about them or Eloise being a little overly pushy with her own feelings and opinions.

This time would be different. Penelope had already made her mind up about this. She had every intention of sitting her down, having a heart to heart conversation about this Colin thing but first she had to be sure that there was actually going to be one.  She didn’t actually know what was happening. She just knew that she’d always wanted something to happen and it was and she was terrified if she stopped it, she’d never be this lucky again.

That was why she dragged Colin away from the corner they’d disappeared to for longer than was appropriate to find Eloise and Phillip at the bar.  She had a single-mission apologize away and then go. She’d ask for forgiveness later.

“There you two are,” Eloise asked suspiciously eyeing them curiously.

Phillip oddly didn’t look suspicious at all though Penelope did pick up on a hint of some sort of secret smile toward Colin.  It definitely didn’t go without notice and it did strike her that perhaps Colin had known precisely what he was doing tonight. They weren’t the distraction for Phillip. Phillip was the distraction for Eloise. He was a reasonably good-looking, nice guy and it had worked swimmingly. Penelope had to give credit where credit was due.

“Yeah, sorry – I think something I had at lunch didn’t settle well,” she said, telling a little white lie.  She might have failed by not exactly telling Colin more than they were going to be leaving as he looked confused for a fraction of a second.

“Oh, so… Colin is going to escort you home then?” Phillip said with the save.

Penelope hadn’t really had the chance to talk to him much but she already really liked this guy.  He clearly was getting the memo.

She was starting to wonder if she’d sucked all the oxygen from Colin’s brain when he didn’t jump in on this.  She elbowed him slightly which seemed to trigger him into action.

“Of course,” he said after a moment. “I’m really sorry that we didn’t have much time to hang out but hopefully Eloise hasn’t bored you too much.”

Eloise seemed to think this meant she needed to go too.  She started grabbing her bag, trying to stand.

“I hate that our night was cut short-“

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of stealing you away from Phillip,” Penelope said after a moment, leaning into Colin for full effect and trying to will herself to look pathetic. “Please stay so his night isn’t ruined. Colin can take care of me.”

Eloise was definitely suspicious.  Her eyes moved back and forth between Colin who had plastered the look of pure innocence on his face and Penelope who looked the picture of death.  They were definitely on to something.  Phillip seemed to think it was legitimate though and she shrugged deciding to just leave it be.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” Phillip assured.  

“Then it’s settled then,” Colin said with a nod, arm going around Penelope’s back to lead her up and out of the club before Eloise could change her mind.

--

In the grand scheme of things, the wait between the car being ordered to take them home and them arriving wasn’t that long but it felt about a million years.  

As the slipped into the back of the car, Penelope couldn’t help but laugh when Colin pulled out his wallet and handed a hundred dollar bill to the driver.

“You see nothing, you know nothing,” he told the driver who accepted the money and thus the promise of absolutely ignoring them. He had ever intention of behaving but it never hurt to have someone turn a blind eye. The vehicle started moving without further question from the driver and that was all he wanted.

Colin grinned sheepishly in the dark before reaching to turn Penelope’s face so he could claim her lips again.  He’d not wanted to stop at the bar and he was grateful to have the freedom to do it again even if the car wasn’t exactly private.

He certainly wasn’t ashamed to kiss her in front of other people. His problem was that his lips were pretty eager to explore more than her mouth and he wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could behave himself.

There was also the matter that they hadn’t actually discussed what was happening between them and he felt like they ought to.  He wasn’t under any illusion that he didn’t have a reputation albeit a false one.  He didn’t want Penelope to have the wrong idea about his intentions nor did he want her to feel pressure to do anything either.

She seemed to be the one calling the shots more than he was lately and he wasn’t upset about it. He couldn’t help but find the moments when she took control, made it clear precisely what she wanted appealing.  He’d always known the confident, direct girl existed but more often than not she let herself be pushed to the shadows.  It was silly when she was so funny, smart and beautiful!

He admittedly felt his pants tighten when he heard the click of her seat belt, felt her move from her seat to his lap and her dress rose slightly bunching against her thighs.  She was wonderfully warm against him and so perfect. He his hands moved to her hips to try and grip her.

His eyes closed when her mouth moved to tease at his neck.   An audible groan escaped him and he was grateful that the driver decided to turn up the music he was listening to.  He wanted to move his hands from her hips to her ass or elsewhere but he kept clutching her hips to try and keep himself in check.

“Pen,” he murmured after a second, knowing that he had to gain some self-control.  He had to actually have a conversation with her before he ended up having his way with her in the back of this vehicle. She deserved so much more than that.

Her eyes opened slightly and she did pull back, confusion flickering across her face.  Colin couldn’t help but pick up on what appeared to be hurt playing on her features and he felt like an absolute monster for it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked before trying to slip back to her seat. He shook his head no, hand tightening harder to keep her precisely where she was in his lap.

“I want to talk,” he said resolutely.

Penelope’s face turned ghastly white.

“I misread the whole thing and you don’t owe me any explanation for that,” she said trying to cut him off at the pass if he was going to tell her that he wasn’t looking for something long-term or that he couldn’t possibly want to be with her. It made sense to her. Colin wanting to be with her was too good to be true. “We’ve always been friends. You don’t have to… ”

He kissed her again to silence her not wanting to hear another minute of her thinking that he didn’t want her.  It was ludicrous.  

“Are you going to let me talk?” he asked when he broke away.

She nodded.

“Good. I was trying to tell you that I don’t want to just kiss you,” he told her after a moment. “I mean, clearly I want to do more than that but – I mean, we’ve known each other for a long time and my entire family cares about you. I care about you too.”

Penelope didn’t have to question for a minute that he did.

“I care about you too,” she told him softly.

“I need you to understand that if you let me have my way with you, you’re never going to be rid of me again,” he said firmly.  “I need you to know that I’m going to be all in and I need to be sure you will be as well.”

Penelope wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly.  Was he suggesting that she might be the one who decided it was a one and done?  It was the most insane thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“You think that I’m going to shag and run?” she asked looking at him like he had grown another head. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were practically children.”

“No,” he said after a moment, jaw tightening. He didn’t think that was anything special and she was.  He wasn’t as confident as he might like the world to think. He could let momentary vulnerability come through here. “I just – what if I don’t live up to your expectations?”

“What I don’t live up to yours?” she said turning it back on him.  She didn’t consider herself beautiful.  She could hide behind her clothes but when they came off would he be repulsed by her curves? Would he dislike her inexperience?  She couldn’t imagine a scenario where he didn’t live up to her expectations but the other way around seemed far more probable.

“That won’t be happening,” he told her shaking his head.

“Then maybe we slow it down,” she said after a moment, biting her lip.  “Until we’re both sure that the other isn’t going anywhere. I mean, not too slow and definitely not a secret because I’m going to talk to Eloise but a little less impulsive, a little more…thoughtful.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod, realizing the car had finally come to a stop. They were actually home.  “Well I think that we have a lot of ground to cover and the house to ourselves for a little while.  I do believe I’m supposed to be taking care of you so if you just happen to sleep in my bed that won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t suppose it would.”

Penelope moved off him enough to open the door and climb out, Colin following behind with a polite word of thanks for the driver.  

“One more thing,” he said moving behind her, keeping the conversation going.

She turned her head toward him watching while he maneuvered around her to unlock the door and let them in.  She kicked off her heels at the entrance.

“Okay?” she said waiting for him to say it.

“If someone asks, you’re my girlfriend,” he said firmly. It wasn’t a question but a statement. Of course, she could argue it if she wanted.

“I don’t remember you asking?” she said, pausing slightly, amusement was written on her face though.

Colin wasn’t one to turn away from a challenge though or an opportunity to be overly dramatic.  He paused, moved down to one knee.

“Will you allow this to be an official thing?” he asked her, gazing up at her.  

“Well since you asked nicely,” she teased.

[nogods--nomasters]

A Dance

June, 1814

Glittering. Her eyes, traveling across the ostentatiously decorated ballroom, saw nothing but the crystal chandeliers, delicately twinkling champagne flutes, and twinkling beads on the dresses of the ladies present. Penelope sighed as she watched each Debutante whirl around the dance floor, laughing absently at whatever her lord or baron or viscount dance partner was prattling on about. She could feel the slight, gentle sway of her body to the rhythm of the orchestra, both present yet detached from the society ball that surrounded her.

She did long to dance, truly. She had not had many opportunities to dance, and, as she was swiftly approaching the mid-point of her second season, she doubted she ever would. She was a rather good dancer, although there were few that had the opportunity to experience that side of Miss Penelope Featherington. There were fewer, still, that felt the need to comment upon it.  

She could not find a smile as she watched the dancing end and resume again with a new song, some dancers continuing with the same partner, and others asking for a spin with a new one. As she stood to the side of the excitement, she couldn’t help but wonder why it couldn’t be her being asked to dance for once. Sure, she danced the obligatory dances with the Bridgerton boys at each ball, but she longed to be asked by someone who specifically wanted to dance with her. Penelope. Not because she was the best friend of Eloise Bridgerton, not because anyone’s mother asked them to, but because they deigned her specifically interesting enough to waltz with.

She was so lost in thought, she hardly noticed the new presence beside her until she heard a voice. “Why, isn’t it just ever so tiring?” the feminine voice asked, prompting Penelope to turn her head towards the source.

Cressida. Penelope’s frown was immediate. As though her evening had not been bad enough, the person she could not have possibly wanted less to do with was standing beside her, positively simpering. She was baiting her, but with what Penelope did not know. “Sorry?” She replied, keeping her eyes somehow both on Cressida and anxiously circling the ballroom for any means of escape.

“I was just inquiring whether it was as tiring as it looks.” She responded, the smirk that was playing behind her eyes hardly being fought off of her lips.

“Tiring as what looks?”

“Why, constantly praying for any man to ask you to dance, of course.” The giggle that left her lips was anything but joyful, “I can imagine it is not quite as tiring as actually dancing, more than likely. I also don’t suppose you would have much dancing to compare your constant daydreaming to measure, but I did not think it would hurt to inquire.” Cressida reminded Penelope of a snake. A scaled, beautifully colored serpent, stalking pray and unhinging its jaws at any sign of weakness.

Penelope imagined she looked just like a fish on land, mouth open and gasping for air. She was very consistently at a loss for words, but right now she could not foresee finding them again in the near future.  

“I-“ she began, still unsure what she was to say in response to such a cruel question, “I-oh, I-“ she could not seem to find anything cutting that would stick. Cressida was openly smirking at her now, the cruelty of her remark having hit its mark like a masterful marksman to a soaring pigeon.

“Anyway, Miss Featherington, have a wonderful evening. I hope one of these seasons a man asks you to dance.” Her parting remark stung more than the previous, having hit such an obvious weak point for the young debutante.  

“Oh, off so soon, Miss Cowper? And here I thought you might love to stay for Miss Featherington’s comparison between dancing and, what was it you said, ‘praying for any man to ask her to dance’? You did seem ever so curious.” She felt a breath she did not even know she was holding release at the familiar voice that appeared to her side. She turned her head in his direction, then, knowing she would find the kind, towering countenance of Mr. Colin Bridgerton. She found his green eyes, and noticed they were not looking at her, but instead trained on the rapidly reddening face of Cressida Cowper. His eyes, usually open and kind, were hard and cold as they all but glared at the calculating blonde.

“Why, Mr. Bridgerton, I had not the slightest inkling you could hear us.”

“Then, perhaps you should be more reticent of those who are within ear shot, Miss Cowper. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ll be off to share a dance with Miss Featherington,” his eyes found hers for the first time following his sudden appearance, “that is, Miss Featherington, if you will allow me the honor.”  

All Penelope could bring herself to do was nod. Colin was her knight in shining armor, and she doubted very much that he even knew. That dance, with the feeling of his hand on her waist, the warmth of his hand on her own, the swelling giggle that threatened to burst from her lungs at any moment, was the second best moment of that entire second season.

The first was seeing the beat red face of the avidly watching Cressida Cowper, whose expression could effectively be pegged somewhere between resentment, jealousy, and mortification.

 _____________________________________________________________________________________

 Penelope gently pulled herself from her reverie. She felt her lips drift absently into a smile as she plaited her hair for bed, the dim candlelight accompanying her memory from a decade prior. She had, back then, held little hope that she would ever become Mrs. Bridgerton. But as she tied the end of the braid and looked in the mirror at her avidly reading husband, Mr. Colin Bridgerton himself, she couldn’t help but sigh wistfully at just how wrong she had been.

“Why do you sigh so, wife?” Colin questioned, looking up at her from his book as she rose from her vanity.

“Why, no reason, husband. Just feeling tired. The day has been rather long, wouldn’t you agree?” She peeled back the covers and climbed into bed, hoping the warmth of the blankets and the warmth of her unreasonably hot husband might chase away the winter chill. She drifted closer to his side of the bed, nestling herself tightly against his side as he moved his arm to make room.

“It has been a long day, yes, but as for the length of the day being a reason for your sigh? I find that highly debatable.” She felt the gentle kiss on the top of her head and found herself longing to be even closer to him, despite the impossibility of such a feat.

“Leave it to you, husband, to not let sleeping dogs lie.” She chanced a look up at him, expecting to find him still engrossed in his novel, but was surprised to find him looking down at her.

He leaned down and met their lips together, a gentle press that Penelope felt deep in her stomach. “My love, these lips could find much better things to do than sigh, do you not think?” She reached for his mouth with her own again, only to be met by empty air. “But I think we shall have to wait until you tell me what the matter is to explore those opportunities, lovely girl.”

“Colin, it’s really nothing.” She excused, then found herself looking away. Suddenly, she found the pattern of the bed quilt more interesting than ever before. “Besides, you’ll think it’s rather silly, I’m afraid.”

“Now, Pen,” he began as he cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, “nothing in that head could ever be construed as silly.” The kiss on her forehead was gentle, and she found herself sighing again. She had a feeling she would not be escaping this so easily.

“I’m sure you don’t even remember, but I was just thinking of a time during my second season where you, my white knight, heroically came to my rescue from the dragon that is Cressida Twombley.” She smiled fondly up at him, hoping that would be the end of it. Instead, he frowned. The frown puzzled Penelope, and she found herself mirroring him, “Whatever is the matter? You know how things were, are, and always shall be between Cressida and me.”

“I do, but it just,” it was his turn to sigh as he lightly pushed a curl behind her ear, “pains me that there are all these memories in that pretty head of yours that trouble you so. You are so beautiful, Penelope, and the fact that anyone ever made you feel less than is just too much for me to bear.”

She found herself shaking her head, “you misunderstand me, husband. Yes, Cressida was cruel, but the memory was more about you. How handsome and heroic I thought you were, coming to whisk me away to the dance floor when I had not one dance the entire evening. How, I know without a doubt, you’d do it again today. Although, I imagine, the ending of our dance would be returning to our home in the carriage, not you being whisked away by your mother.”

Penelope found herself giggling, but Colin’s eyes remained serious. She wasn’t so sure she liked it when Colin was so serious. The gears in that head of his turning like that tended to have some dangerous results. She gave him time to think, taking the time to admire his dark hair, the emerald of his eyes, the chiseled cheeks and jawline that she had been dreaming about longer than she cared to admit. She reached for his cheek, gently resting her palm along the newly-scruffy skin.

“Come.” He spoke suddenly, his eyes still serious, “Up, out of bed you go.” He threw the sheets from the both of them, bounding out of the bed and grabbing his dressing gown. “Put your dressing gown on.”

Penelope faltered for a moment, looking at him. What was happening? Had he gone mad? She continued to stare, thinking on what to say, “Where are we off to at this time of night, love?”

Colin ignored her question. Instead, he all but pulled her out of bed. He helped her into her dressing gown, and Penelope slipped on her slippers. She decided that perhaps she would play his reindeer games. He offered her his arm, and she took it despite feeling rather formal for an adventure in bedclothes. He led her swiftly out of the bedroom door, his large steps almost pulling her to catch up. She could not imagine where he was taking her. To the kitchens? Perhaps he was hungry? She knew not how to cook or bake, but she was hopeful that there might be something left behind from dinner that evening, perhaps a bit of bread. They continued down the corridor, down the stairs, through the foyer, and into the library.

Had he dragged her down there for a book? She had her own beside her bed, surely he-

Colin stopped suddenly once securely inside the library. He released her arm. “Colin? I really do not understand. Did we truly come here for a book?” He turned to her, an amused smile playing at his lips. He said nothing, but a strange expression overtook his features. Penelope felt herself blush. Even after two years of marriage, he still had that strange effect on her. She averted her eyes, suddenly overcome with a nervousness long ago replaced by the knowledge of what a husband and wife do together in bed.

If other wives were like her, and other husbands like him, then nervousness should never exist in a marriage.

She felt him approach her, then. He grasped her chin between his fingers, bringing her gaze up to match his own. The green of his eyes would never not be distracting, she knew. “Excuse me Miss Featherington, but would you allow me the honor of a dance?” The question was accompanied by a deep bow. Through her giggles, Penelope curtsied and took the hand he had reached out to her. She allowed him to lead her in a simple waltz. The feeling of his large, firm hand through her thin nightgown warmed her. She could feel the familiar butterflies in her stomach as her gaze kept firmly to his. Their hands were grasped together, and their bodies were much too close for the confines of a ballroom. The entire thing, despite being between herself and her husband, despite being in their own home, felt terribly scandalous.

Colin leaned down to press their cheeks together. The touch, warm and slightly rough, made her shiver. “Why, Mr. Bridgerton, I am a lady.” She responded to the touch. His only response was to draw her closer, replacing his cheek with his lips.

“I know that now, Pen.” He kissed her again, this time on her jaw. His hand on her back as they danced held fast. She was consumed by him as he brought his kisses lower, lower, lower, trying but failing to keep the pace of the dance. He, too, had seemed to have given up entirely as both hands stretched across the small of her back. The dancing slowed to a complete stop as his mouth reached her collar bone. She grasped his hair lightly, the strands soft between her fingertips. “I wasted so much time not knowing that. You were perfect for me Penelope,” he stopped his kisses then, pushing his forehead against hers, “you were perfect and I wasted so much time just not realizing. You were right in front of me the entire time, and yet all I did was attempt to defend you from people like Cressida and dance with you out of-“ he inhaled deeply, shaking his head, “I want to dance with you for the rest of our lives. Not because I want to, but because I need to. You are mine, Pen, and I don’t intend to waste another moment.”

The kiss was searing. Unexpected. Everything was fast, the movement of his lips, to the grasping of his hands, to the way she gave him everything she had in return. She felt her back bump the bookcase, not having realized they had even been moving. He pulled away, breathing harshly, his lips gravitating back to her throat. She keened as he pulled her hips forward, feeling his want against her.

“Colin, we- are we to do this here? In the library- I” thoughts were few and far between as he raised his head, pupils large and focused only on her. He slid her dressing gown from her shoulders, attaching his lips to the newly found skin. He traveled lower, then, unlacing her gown as he went until it pooled around her feet.

“Beautiful.” He practically growled against her chest, his mouth finding purchase on her hardened nipple. Her head flew back, hard enough to hurt if he had not moved his hand there for stability. The rapid knocking on the door to the library startled both of them apart, red faced, thoroughly kissed, and panting. She quickly slid her nightgown to cover herself, her dressing gown long ago discarded and too far away. He adjusted himself, attempting to look the part of gentleman of the house.  

“Yes?” She called out, her voice quivering. Colin’s smirk was dastardly at best at the sound of her voice, and if she weren’t already flushed, she surely would be now. The sound of the heavy door opening was deafening in the old library.

“My apologies, my lady, my lord. I have come to check if the fires were out.” The maid that appeared before them was young, her eyes unsuspecting that anything was even amiss.

“We’ll just be heading up to bed, then. Goodnight.” Colin answered for them both, ushering them out of the room with a hand too low for anywhere except the bedroom.

Her giggle upon entering their bedroom was hysterical. “Colin! That poor girl.”

“She was none the wiser.” He took off his robe, finding his way to her. “Now, where were we?”

“I can’t seem to remember.” She replied, coy. Her night gown was on the floor before she could breathe.

When they finally retired to bed, she couldn’t help her smile. He was lovely, Colin Bridgerton. A scoundrel, maybe, but so well intentioned she felt she could weep. His arms, tightly wrapped around her, were home. His even breathing told her that he was fast asleep. Penelope was not far behind him, soundly sleeping and dreaming of dark brown hair and kind green eyes.

[fortunatelylori]

I’d say Theo on the whole isn’t a very good manager of his own career. Actors who take on new projects that give them something new to explore are character actors. That’s not what Theo James is. Theo is a leading man. His looks wouldn’t allow him to be a character actor to begin with and he isn’t as talented as, let’s say, Colin Farrell that can make people forget he’s one of the most attractive men they’ve ever seen in their lives. 

The reality is Theo was on track to have a great career after Divergent but he didn’t capitalize on it and now he’s stuck doing small budget movies no one is interested in or lackluster tv shows like The Time Traveler’s Wife (I dare you to watch that trailer and not be bored 30 seconds in). 

Sanditon was his chance to push his career forward and perhaps reach the cult following of someone like Matthew Macfadyen ( Macfadyen is one of the most talented actors to have ever acted but his most recognizable role will always be 2005′s Pride and Prejudice). 

A big part of why he didn’t end up with that isn’t really his fault. It was the mismanagement of ITV in not promoting Sanditon properly, in asking for a cliffhanger and then promptly canceling the show. But a bit of that is also on him. It’s not like he used the opportunity of Sanditon to really sell himself as a leading man in the way Regé-Jean Page did when promoting Bridgerton or in building this very affable, engaging persona that Jonathan Bailey is doing now for season 2. He sort of just faded away. 

And then the renewal happened. Again, instead of sizing that opportunity and using the success of Bridgerton and the dedicated Sanditon fanbase in order to grow his career, he chose to hit us all with the “broken fairytale” quote which just ended up annoying people because it made it seem like he didn’t even understand what kind of project he had been involved in. 

I would assume some sort of scheduling conflict happened seeing as he was already in the process of filming The Time Traveler’s wife at the time and also, on a personal level, the birth of his child. But given his quote it doesn’t seem like he made much of an effort to do a show that had just been renewed for 2 more seasons and that he had been the star of. Compare that to Henry Cavill’s years of lobbying for the Geralt of Rivia role in The Witcher and you begin to understand why Cavill has become one the most in demand actors working in Hollywood today and Theo James is ... well, not doing much of anything. 

As for saying that him not returning is due to his wife being bullied online ... Honestly I think that does a disservice to the Sanditon fanbase. We have been nothing if not supportive of this show. We wrote metas, fanfiction, gifed the hell out of every scene, lobbied ITV, screamed on Twitter and everything in between in order to get this show renewed. I can’t think of any other small fanbase that has ever been as positive or as active in our support for this show and its actors than the Sanditon crowd. 

Was there a small group of people that attacked Ruth  Kearney? I’m sure there were and those people are reprehensible. 

However, the sad reality is that actors and actresses need to develop thick skins if they want to continue doing their jobs. Being in the public eye unfortunately also comes with a fair amount of online hate, particularly when you play a villain. Some people can’t distinguish fact from fiction and they feel emboldened by the anonymity of the internet to bully the actors playing a character they don’t like. 

That being said, a small amount of online trolls is no reason to turn down an opportunity of expanding your career. And if that was part of the reason, then again I say, Theo James is simply not every good at his off-screen job. 

Why,why,why did Sidney leave Sandition?? It's not the same feeling.

Hi, nonnie.

I commiserate. I haven't even been able to look up anything related to the new season.

[rubysunnday]

artemis and apollo

Requested by Anon - Hello! I love your bridgerton sister fics! I totally get if your too busy with requests but I would love a fic where the sister is put in some kind of danger (a guy is harassing her or something) and her big brothers save the day

A/N: this isn’t a part of my 1.5K celebration but I’ll shove it in with them. I throughly enjoyed writing this.

It was terrifying.

Eloise was with her - and complaining about it every other second - but that didn’t change just how terrifying it was.

Everyone was looking at her.

Which, considering she was a Bridgerton and was, apparently, the ‘Diamond’ of that season, was understandable. 

It was still terrifying.

“They’re not going to eat you, Y/N,” Colin whispered, a cheeky smile on his face as he leant closer to his sister.

“They might,” Y/N replied, shifting fractionally closer to Colin. She felt safer with her brother’s around (mainly because they intimidated any man who came within five feet of her). “Men could be predators. In fact, I think they are.”

Colin chuckled and grabbed her hand. “Stop panicking. I won’t leave your side, ok?”

“Unless Mother makes you,” Y/N replied, ever the pessimist. “I just... I don’t trust people I’ve never met. Especially men I’ve never met before. It’s a woman thing,” she added, noticing Colin’s slightly blank look. “I trust you and Anthony and Benedict to look out for me but once I’m engaged in a dance with a man, there’s no escape.”

Colin nodded. “Message received - do not leave you alone with strange men and do not let you dance with strangers.”

Y/N elbowed her brother in the stomach and he let out a grunt that turned a few heads. Colin coughed but straightened his waistcoat and cleared his throat.

“I think that was slightly unnecessary,” he muttered.

“I disagree,” Y/N replied haughtily. “I think it was entirely deserved.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh and tried not to let her disappointment at being forced to attend the ball obvious.

“Oh, hello,” Colin whispered into her ear. “Prince Nikolai is coming this way.”

Y/N perked up. Prince Nikolai was a distant nephew of Queen Charlotte and, perhaps, one of the sweetest men she’d ever met. Whilst Y/N and Nikolai had reached an understanding that neither one wanted to marry the other, they were still good friends and often danced with one another at balls to pass the time.

“Miss Bridgerton, Mr Bridgerton,” Nikolai greeted.

Y/N curtsied. “Your Royal Highness,” she said, standing up. “How are you tonight?”

“I’m very well, thank you Miss Bridgerton.” Nikolai looked at Colin. “I was wondering if you I could do you the honour of being your first dance tonight?”

Y/N smiled and nodded. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

Y/N took her arm out of Colin’s and accepted Nikolai’s. She gave her brother a brief, fleeting look as she headed for the dance floor and Colin gave her a reassuring smile in return.

“I do hope you don’t think me to forward, Miss Bridgerton, but I’ve heard some rumours regarding the Earl of Suffolk.”

Y/N closed her eyes momentarily. “Oh, yes. Him.”

The Earl of Suffolk was a presumptuous, prick of a man. He thought himself better than everyone else and assumed he could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Y/N, being the diamond of the season, had attracted the Earl’s attention. He’d put himself forward as a potential suitor and had even proposed and whilst a more naive girl than Y/N would be attracted to his title and money, Y/N suspected something wasn’t quite right with the Earl.

All it took was Anthony and her mother to ask around before discovering that the Earl’s ex-wife had died under mysterious circumstances two years previously. They'd only been married a year and it was rumour that his wife was barren.

Anthony had immediately put his foot down and refused the Earl’s proposal. Y/N had been grateful for her big brother but with the Earl still lurking around - and apparently very angry at the Bridgerton's - Y/N dreaded running into him.

“Did I speak out of turn?” Nikolai asked, looking at her in concern as they slowly danced around the room.

“No, no,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “My brother, Anthony, took control of the situation but something tells me that the Earl isn’t going to give up so easily.”

“If there’s anything I can do to assist you, please let me know,” Nikolai said, flashing a smile at her.

The song ended and Y/N smiled at him. He escorted her off the floor but was immediately overwhelmed by the debutantes and their mothers.

The mention of the Earl of Suffolk had put Y/N back on edge. She kept to the side of the room as she tried to make her way to her brothers, keeping her head down and hiding amongst the numerous guests.

She spotted Benedict in the corner with Eloise and turned to go in his direction when she spotted the Earl obviously looking for a Bridgerton. He spotted Benedict and began marching over to him with a furious expression on his face. Not wanting to be caught up in the argument that was sure to follow, Y/N turned on her heel and headed outside onto the terrace.

Outside was significantly cooler than inside. The sun had only just set and the moon was lighting up the terrace in a cool glow. Dotted around the terrace were numerous fire pits that lit up the gardens and provide enough light for an unchaperoned walk around. There were also a few footmen and servants outside including a lone violinist who was playing a soft tune.

Taking a chance - and assuming she would be watched by the few people and servants outside - Y/N descended the stairs to the garden and walked around it.

It didn’t have tall, sprawling hedges, merely short ones dotted with flowers or bunches of holly. There was a beautiful statue of Artemis set in the middle of the rose garden and Y/N found herself staring up at it in admiration.

Y/N and Colin were both big fans of the Greek mythology. Colin, being a man, got to study it in detail at university and upon his arrival home had imparted everything he knew on to his younger sister.

The two had spent hours together reading numerous stories and staring at paintings of the gods and goddesses.

Y/N had found herself relating to Artemis. The goddess of wild animals, the hunt, chastity and childbirth, Artemis had become a symbol of protection to Y/N and she’d tried to model herself on the myth.

“Miss Bridgerton, there you are.”

Y/N froze. She closed her eyes and forced herself to turn around and look at the Earl of Suffolk.

“My Lord,” she said, forcing herself to curtsey to the man. “What can I do for you?”

“I wondered if we might have a word?” The Earl said, stepping closer. “It’s just... your brother -”

“The matter is settled, Your Lordship,” Y/N said, stepping back. “My brother made my wishes, and his, very clear to you.”

The Earl tilted his head. “Do you think yourself... better than me?”

Y/N sighed softly, not wanting to take the bait and incite the man. “I think I should head back to the ball.”

She tried to walk past him but he snatched her wrist and pulled her to a sharp halt.

“Let go of me!” Y/N exclaimed, trying to pull away.

“You will marry me, Miss Bridgerton,” the Earl snarled, pulling her closer. “Because you will have no other choice.”

Y/N felt herself panicking. Panicking so much she wasn’t sure what to do. She tried to wriggle out from his grasp but his grip was tight and painful.

The Earl held her tight against him and Y/N did the only thing she could think of.

She kicked him in-between the legs.

The Earl grunted and immediately let go of her as he fell to his knees.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned around saw her three brothers running towards her from across the garden. She quickly made distance between herself and the Earl and all but flung herself into Anthony’s arms as he reached her side.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking her in the eye.

Y/N nodded even though her entire body was shaking. “Yes, I am now.”

Anthony nodded and gave her a quick squeeze. He handed her over to Colin as he and Benedict approached the Earl with matching steel cold looks on their faces.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Colin asked, tilting her head up to check she wasn’t injured.

“I’m fine, Colin,” Y/N promised, resting her head on his chest. “A little shaken but still in one piece. He didn’t get far enough to do anything,” she added.

Colin hugged her to him tightly and kissed her head. Y/N turned her head slightly and glanced behind her at the statue of Artemis.

The sound of a fist hitting someone’s face turned her attention back to the Earl and she tried not to look too pleased at the beating his face had taken from her two brothers.

“Come on,” Anthony said, shrugging his coat off and wrapping it around Y/N’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

Y/N reached over and grabbed Benedict’s hand as Anthony guided her across the garden and towards the side gate. Her three bodyguards protected her from anyone who was watching and soon they were walking down the front stairs to their carriage.

Benedict helped Y/N in and then sat on her right, Colin on her left. Y/N, who usually nagged her brothers about personal space and forced them to sit opposite her, said nothing. She shifted down in the seat and dropped her head on to Benedict’s shoulder, pulling Anthony’s coat tighter around her shoulders.

Anthony climbed in and sat opposite them with unhidden fury on his face. He glanced at his sister and it all disappeared, replaced by a soft and concerned expression.

Y/N smiled at him and nodded once. She reached out her foot and bumped his leg with her toe, reassuring him a bit more.

Benedict moved fractionally closer to Y/N and she felt herself feeling ever so thankful for her brothers.

Just like Artemis had Apollo, Y/N had Anthony, Benedict and Colin to protect her until her dying day.

[rubysunnday]

Favourite brother - Part 2

A/N: well, part one went down surprisingly well! 

“So, Daphne is now a duchess...”

Y/N raised her eyebrows expectantly at her brother, waiting for him to finish his comment. She looked back down at her embroidery and poked the needle through the fabric. “And?”

Colin leant forward in his chair. “Perhaps, now, the ton will be watching you.”

Y/N let out a unladylike snort. “Oh, please. As long as Miss Thompson is around and as long as Daphne and Simon are in their ‘newlywed’ bliss, I will always be the wallflower of the family.”

Colin eyed his sister with a sad gaze. He didn’t miss the way she stabbed her needle through the fabric a little harder than necessary nor the way she practically glowered at Anthony (probably hoping he would spontaneously combust). 

“Colin, I can feel you staring at me,” Y/N said, looking up from her embroidery to give her brother a level stare. “What is it?” “You truly don’t believe you are worth anything, do you?”

Y/N paused, needle halfway through the fabric. She slowly pushed it through, trying to ignore the burning in her eyes.

Colin was right. She didn’t see herself as worthy of anything. Compared to Daphne who’d captured the eye of the ton and then a duke and a prince, she’d had nothing. Her three older brothers had always been swarmed with suitors and Y/N had truly believed that, maybe, one day, it would’ve been like that for her.

But apart from an almost marriage to Nigel Berbrooke that was out of spite to her brother and sister and was unwanted by her, she had had no proposals and no suitors.

A fact she wanted to blame Anthony for but that Y/N knew was down to nothing more than bad luck. 

If she’d made her debut a year later it would’ve been the same story. Everyone would’ve been captivated by Eloise and she would’ve been forgotten. Or everyone would’ve been terrified of Eloise and been forced to look at Y/N.

Either or.

When you were a twin of someone who excelled in everything you didn’t, it was easy to be overlooked and forgotten - especially in a family of nine. 

But up until she and Daphne came of age, she hadn’t felt overlooked. She’d felt loved and seen as an equal to her brothers. Anthony hadn’t been so protective (He'd always been protective of them all. But compared to how Benedict was when someone upset or threatened his family, Anthony was a saint.). 

Everyone fawned over Daphne when she began courting Simon - and rightfully so. But Y/N’s prospects and potential suitors had become nothing more than polite conversation between her and her ladies maid. 

“Y/N?”

Y/N inhaled sharply and jumped slightly at Colin’s voice. She looked over at him and gave him a somewhat unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. I just feel somewhat underwhelming compared to my sister,” she replied, turning her eyes back to her embroidery. 

Which was beginning to look less and less like a violet and more like an oddly shaped duck. 

Colin, sensing his sister wasn’t in the mood to be proved wrong, left the conversation there. He also didn’t want to end up with a sewing needle in his eye - the chances of which were becoming increasingly likely the more he poked and prodded. 

It was a beautiful ballroom.

There were candles in every window and garlands of flowers draped across the walls with petals dashed across the floor. 

The garden was a lit with numerous furnaces and torches that blazed in the summer night and the fountain set in the centre of the sprawling, immaculate hedges and flowers trickled away.

None of the beauty, however, was making Y/N feel any better about being left out of yet another ball.

She’d been standing on the sidelines watching ever since she’d arrived. Benedict had offered to dance with her but Y/N hadn’t wanted to be mentioned in Lady Whistledown for dancing with no one but her own brothers so had declined the invitation.

Instead she chose to stand and watch the beautiful couples dance around the room as she sulked and drank yet another glass of lemonade. 

“Why are you skulking back here?” Anthony asked, approaching his sister with a confused, concerned and curious expression.

Y/N swallowed the rather large gulp of lemonade she’d taken and tried not to give her brother a glare. “No one’s asked me to dance.”

“I’m sure Colin -”

“That is not the point, Anthony!” Y/N exclaimed, cutting him off. “I’ve had no one to dance with apart from my brother’s and Simon, who is now my brother too!” She almost growled but remembered that half the ton were around and forced herself to calm down. “Daphne has been the centre of everyone’s attention and had the suitors falling at het feet. I thought that now she’s married, they’d look to me - but apparently no one settles for second best.” 

Anthony stared at his sister. “Y/N, you’re not second best to anyone.”

Y/N scoffed. She set her empty lemonade glass down, slightly worried she was going to through it at her brother’s head. “Then why haven’t you looked at me twice all season, Anthony? You walked off at my very first ball, leaving me to flounder. You never escorted me - not even tonight! You have, so far, not cared about who comes calling for me - which was no one, by the way - and you don’t care that I have had no suitors, no callers and no proposals!”

She was breathing fast and could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She was angry. She was so angry and even though most of the anger was at the ton for being so vain, she couldn’t very well direct it at a ballroom full of people.

Instead she directed it at her older brother, the one who should’ve looked out for her and guided her through her first season in society but didn’t.

Anthony, for once, had the decency to look hurt by his sister’s accusations. He had a broken look on his face as he realised she was right and that he’d ignored  her. He was stunned into silence.

But Y/N hadn’t want pitiful silence, she’d wanted an argument - for Anthony to get angry at her and prove her wrong but also right.

“Say something!” Y/N snapped, glaring at Anthony. 

 Benedict and Colin had noticed the, somewhat heated argument, and were trying to weave their way through the crowd to intervene before one of them snapped and punched the other.

Anthony opened his mouth and closed it again. He was speechless - a rare feat, indeed.

Y/N scoffed and shook her head. “Fine.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared through the crowd, heading towards the door to the garden. 

Benedict and Colin made it to Anthony’s side and frowned.

“What was that all about?” Benedict asked, looking at Anthony expectantly. 

Anthony swallowed and forced himself to look at his brother. “She hates me.”

Colin, who had sensed the argument was coming, put a hand on Anthony’s arm. “No, she doesn’t. She’s angry at the world and the expectations society place on her shoulders. All she really wants, Anthony, is you.”

“I’ve ignored her almost this entire season,” Anthony said, staring at Colin. “How...”

“There’s still a few weeks left of the season, though,” Colin reminded him. He gestured to the door that Y/N had fled through. “Go on.”

Anthony didn’t need anymore encouragement, he brushed past his brother’s and all but marched through the crowd towards the door. 

Y/N had disappeared out onto the fire lit terrace of the house and was leaning on the stone bannister, trying to calm down. 

She loved her brother. Truly, she did. She also knew that he would never do anything to ruin her prospects intentionally.

That didn’t, however, stop her from wanting to throttle him. 

“Y/N?”

Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled. She could feel Anthony watching her and heard his footsteps approaching closer as he walked up to her. 

“Are you alright?” 

There was concern - genuine concern - in his voice. Y/N was usually good at keeping her emotions together and not breaking down until she was either with her mother or on her own.

But all it took was Anthony’s concerned question and a gentle hand on her shoulder for her to lose any control she’d had.

Y/N felt the tears drip down her face and turned to Anthony, practically throwing her arms around him and clinging on to him as if he was the only thing keeping her afloat. 

Slightly surprised by her sudden change in emotion, it took Anthony a moment to catch-up with the fact his sister was sobbing in to his arms and needed, not Lord Bridgerton, but her big brother. 

Anthony wrapped his arms around her and held her as she sobbed, waiting for her to speak.

Y/N eventually managed to get control of her emotions again and she stepped away from Anthony, wiping her eyes as delicately as she could to avoid ruining her make-up.

“Sorry.”

“Never apologise for being human,” Anthony said softly, sitting next to her on a bench. 

Y/N sighed. “I’m just... compared to Daphne I am nothing. No one has even looked twice at me this entire season. I’m her sister and nothing more.”

Anthony put a hand on her knee. “Do you truly believe that?” He asked, looking her in the eye.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. All I wish is for someone, anyone, to look at me and call on me because they like me. Not because they wanted an easy way to my sister or to you or to Eloise or to anyone who isn’t me!” 

“Y/N, you are a wonderful young lady and if those men can’t see it -”

“Then they’re not worth my time, I know,” she said, shooting Anthony an amused smile. “You sound like Benedict.”

“I believe you meant that Benedict sounds like me, he did come second after all,” Anthony quipped.

Y/N smacked her brother on the arm. She shook her head with a smiles she tried not to laugh. 

“Come on,” Anthony said, standing up and holding a hand out to her. “Will you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Bridgerton?”

Y/N took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Of course, Lord Bridgerton.” 

“Excuse me, Miss Bridgerton?” Y/N turned around. A young man, Lord Durrell if she remembered correctly, was standing in front of her looking slightly anxious.

“Yes, Lord Durrell?” Anthony asked, raising his eyebrows in his trademark brooding, older brother way.

“I was wondering if you would do me the honour of a dance this evening?” Durrell asked, looking directly at Y/N.

Y/N smiled and held out the arm that her dance card was on. “Of course, Lord Durrell. After I’ve dance with my brother, of course.”

Lord Durrell smiled and wrote his name on her card. “I look forward to it,” he said, bowing down.

Y/N curtsied slightly in response and watched as he left. She waited a few seconds and then squealed and jumped up and down. 

Anthony chuckled, stepping back to avoid being hit by a flailing limb. “See, I told you.”

“No, you didn't, actually,” Y/N said, taking her brother’s arm. “You just repeated what Benedict said and gave me a hug.”

“Which is just as important.”

“Naturally.”

Anthony led Y/N to the dance floor and the two took up their positions.��

“I don’t say this often enough,” Y/N said as they danced around the room, “but I’m so glad you’re my brother, Anthony.”

Anthony managed to concel his surprise by twirling Y/N around and using the brief moment she wasn’t looking to show his surprise before hiding it again. 

“I’m incredibly lucky to have you in my life,” she continued, oblivious. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Anthony nodded and smiled, twirling her around again. 

Later on, however, when he was in his own lodgings away from prying eyes, Anthony looked back on the moment and had to hide his tears in a bottle of whiskey and the mountain of paperwork he had to fulfil. 

[rubysunnday]

orion and pleiades

Request by Anon - prompt #2 just screams Colin Bridgerton to me “Don’t say a word, just dance with me.”

A/N: I hope this is alright, anon! These requests (and the few in my inbox) will probably be the last few I write for sometime x

Colin was enjoying himself.

He’d found a nice spot in the far corner of the ballroom where he could drink and watch the dancing without being cornered by the mamas and ladies. Anthony and Benedict had been apprehended by their mother and were currently being paraded around the room like dresses in the modiste. Colin was trying not to take too much pleasure in the discomfort of his brothers but it was actually a very difficult task.

Benedict kept sending him glares and looks of hope at being rescued but Colin was strategically ignoring him. 

Penelope Featherington weaved through the crowd, in the direction of what Colin had named ‘Colin’s corner’.

“You alright, Pen?” Colin asked as Penelope walked up to his corner.

“Mmhmm,” Penelope hummed, nodding as she poured herself a drink. “Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” She asked, side-eyeing Colin suspiciously.

“My mother has accosted Anthony and Benedict,” Colin said, chuckling as Penelope glanced over at where his brothers were and tried not to laugh.

“I feel for them,” she said. “Mama has just dragged me around the ballroom for most of the night.” Penelope paused. “Have you seen Y/N at all tonight?”

Colin shook his head. “No. She said she was coming, however. Perhaps she’s been held up.”

“Or perhaps she’s running in your direction right now?” Penelope suggested, gesturing to the left.

Colin turned and saw Y/N running towards him, looking increasingly panicked.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” He asked as she all but collided into him. He caught her by the arms and caught her as she skidded to a sudden halt, her balance off by her sudden halt.

Y/N grabbed his hands. “Don’t say a word, just dance with me,” she said, dragging him towards the dance floor.

Colin let himself be dragged through the crowd and, to his credit, said nothing. He noticed that Y/N didn’t relax until they were well ensconced in the middle of the crowd and were well into the dance.

“Do I get the pleasure of discovering why I was accosted and dragged onto the floor?” Colin asked, his eyes glinting with delight as Y/N groaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

“My mother,” she said, dragging out the last word to add more emphasis. “I have been dragged around this room all night, being forced upon every single eligible man within a five mile vicinity - including your brothers.”

“That would have been the highlight of the evening for them, I guarantee you, Y/N,” Colin laughed. “There are far worse people they could’ve had forced upon them.”

“Including Philippa Featherington? Because I saw Anthony dancing with her when I was trying to escape my mother’s clutches.” Y/N looked at Colin’s terrified expression and giggled. “The terror on behalf of your brother is very amusing, Colin.”

Colin twirled Y/N and then dipped her. “What can I saw, I know how my fellow soldier feels.”

Y/N laughed and the sound was like music to Colin’s ears. “Are we really that bad?” 

“Your mothers are,” Colin replied. “The ladies... depends. You, Miss Y/L/N, are a goddess.”

“Do I have a halo?” Y/N asked, letting Colin lift her up. 

“A beautiful, sparkly, golden one,” he replied. “And a beam of sunlight follows you everywhere you go, lighting up the entire room.” 

Y/N smiled, entirely unfazed by the shower of compliments. “Ok, what do you want?”

“Nothing!”

“Colin, you only ever compliment me when you want something,” Y/N replied, giving him a raise of her eyebrows and an unconvinced stare. “So, what is it?”

“Well, I did save you from your mother by dancing with you,” Colin countered, realising he had leverage against her.

Y/N paused and sighed, cursing softly. Colin heard her curse and, whilst his eyes widened, he just snorted. He'd grown use to hearing her curse, even if it was extremely un-ladylike. 

Y/N was just like his sister, Eloise - a woman who didn’t conform to society and didn’t, particularly, care what people thought of her. Colin liked her for her honesty and for the fact she didn’t spend the balls sucking up to men and pretending to be something she wasn't.

“Ok, fine,” Y/N said and Colin blinked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about moments earlier. “I owe you. What do you want?”

Colin smirked. “For you to be glued to my side the entire night.”

Y/N stopped dancing for a split second. “Have you been talking to Hyacinth?”

“No, why?”

“Because the girl is obsessed with the word glue and all connotations that go with it,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. “Glueee. Anyway, so, my challenge is to not leave your side, is that it?”

“Well, it’ll keep my mother off my back,” Colin said, smiling. 

“Oh, and here I thought you just enjoyed my company, Colin,” Y/N said, pouting. 

The dance came to a grand finish and Colin bowed to Y/N as she curtsied to him. 

“So, glue,” she said, grabbing his arm and allowing him to lead her off the dance floor. “What, precisely, does being glue entail?” 

“Oh... well, it mainly entails not leaving me alone with my mother,” Colin replied, leading them over to where Anthony and Benedict were hiding from Violet. 

“Well, there’s all sorts of things I could do to be glued to your side all evening,” Y/N said, making great effort into looking like she was thinking hard. “I could fake swoon -”

“We both know you’re better than that -”

“ - I could take you for a turn around the room -” 

“Please don’t -”

Y/N stopped, turned, and looked up at him. “Or, I could just say I twisted my ankle dancing with you and since you feel like it was your fault, you don’t want to leave me alone and that my wellbeing is your top priority.” 

Colin raised his eyebrows. He’d known Y/N for many years and also knew when he teasing was also partly true. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you twist your ankle?”

Y/N avoid his gaze. “No.”

“Y/N.”

“Ok, I rolled it a bit,” she said, meeting his gaze. “It was when I ran into you, I had a little too much momentum and went over on it.”

“Of course you did,” Colin muttered. “Come on then, my little invalid, let’s sit you down.”

“I’m not a child, Colin,” Y/N grumbled. 

Despite her complaint, however, she still allowed him to guide her across the room and to the safety of the terrace outside. 

It was a beautiful evening and the stars were visible up above. Y/N sat down on a nearby bench and tilted her head up at the sky, her hair falling over the edge of the bench the further she titled her head. 

“I wish we could see the stars from London,” she said softly. 

Colin sat down next to her - his leg brushing hers. “Have you ever heard the tale of Orion?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, eyes filled with curiosity. “No.”

Colin smiled and looked at her. “Well, as the legend goes, Orion was a great hunter who fell in love with the seven sisters.” Colin put his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and took her hand. “He was after them for twelve years. For twelve, long years, he chased after these sisters, trying to gain their favour and affection, However, Zeus, king of the gods, found out about Orion chasing after them and turned all of them into stars.”

Y/N was too enamoured with the story and looking at Colin’s beautiful face to sat anything.

“Orion can chase the Pleiades - the seven sisters - forever, but he can never catch them. He'll follow them across the sky and beyond the horizon in his attempt to catch them.”

Y/N smiled softly at him. “Well, isn’t it a good job I don’t have any sisters, then?”

Colin chuckled. “Isn’t a good job we’re allowed to be together.”

Y/N said nothing. She smiled and felt her cheeks grow hotter. “Colin -”

Colin leant forward and kissed her on the lips. He moved back, shot her a beautiful, mischievous smile, and then kissed her on the cheek. 

Colin stood up and sighed. “I’m hungry,” he announced to no one in particular. 

Y/N tried not to glare at him as she stood up. She huffed out a laugh and followed after him. “Colin, if all the food in the world was turned into stars, you would turn into one and follow it all around the skies.”

Colin paused and turned to look at her. “If you turned into a star, dear Y/N/N, I would follow you no matter where you went.”

[newtonsheffield]

Anthony telling Kate just how much he loves her (cause we know deep down he’s a softie)

Y’all really just wanna see Anthony and Kate happy and in love hey? Like, I get it, me too, And Soft Anthony Anon I know you’re gonna thrive on this (Hope You’re still here actually! 

Okay! Here is Anthony Bridgerton + Sending Kate Sheffield into a spin because he loves her a little too much

The first time He’d said it to her had been heart stopping, breath taking.  Because I love you! yelled out into the space between then, sucking the air from her lungs leaving her breathless as he’d said it. And when he’d whispered in her ear, sleepy and satisfied, their legs tangled together I’ve never felt this way before, I didn’t even know I could. She’d had to bite her lip to keep from crying because the sentiment echoed so strongly in her own chest. Because while she had barely hesitated before the words had sprung from her own lips, She’d never said it to anyone before, Anthony Bridgerton was the first man she’d ever loved, and some desperate messy part of her wanted him to be the last. 

And still, it had taken him nearly a month to say it again. And she’d desperately wanted to say them to him so many times. Like when they exited the lift at work in the morning and went their separate ways and she kissed his cheek lightly, She’d desperately wanted to tell him that she loved him. Or when he’d taken note of the brand of jam she liked and it appeared in his fridge without comment, she’d wanted to wrap her arms tightly around him and whisper in his ear Anthony, I love you. But she didn’t because he hadn’t said it since that first night. And the tiny part of her that was still an insecure teenager who’d so desperately wanted to be loved but learned from Mary’s mother that some people just weren’t loveable. Was desperately afraid he regretted having said it at all. Desperately afraid that if she said it, She would have to watch the door behind his eyes snap closed. Have to listen to his voice say Kate, this has been really fun but... So she kept quiet and didn’t push him. Until He’d stared at her in his kitchen and said I think I’m in love with you. and her heart had fluttered and her stomach had swooped when he’d said No, I know I’m in love with you. And as she’d lay in his arms that night, she couldn’t stop herself from crying and she didn’t even really know why.

And from that day on, it was consistent. Relentless really. Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate. Katie, I love you. And honestly she never wanted it to stop. The desperate part of her was a little drunk on it, craved it really. Her heart fluttered when she kissed his cheek And said I love You as she walked away from him in the morning. He seemed intent on reminding her that he loved her, Even when they argued, he’d sigh irritatedly I love you, Kate. A constant reminder that even then, even when they disagreed, He loved her. And it was ridiculous but it sometimes made her feel a little, odd was perhaps the best word for it. She’d listened for years when her friends from university had complained that their boyfriends and husbands were so closed off to them, so shuttered. And she’d experienced it herself with her limited roster of previous boyfriends. And now she only had to sit silently during these lunches when they complained about their partners Is that Anthony texting you again?! Talk about controlling One of her friends from university had said at lunch one day snatching Kate’s phone away and reading the messages before she could protest only for her mouth to fall open in surprise as her eyes flicked over the screen Jesus fucking Christ Kate. What did you do to or for this man to get him to talk to you like this?! Oh look, it’s a picture of him with your dog! Oh my god, he’s told you he loves you 13 times today. Kate had looked a little sheepish and shrugged That’s just how he is I don’t know. He’s very sweet. And 13 times isn’t that many Her friend had tutted disapprovingly Kate is barely midday. And Kate had gone back to Anthony’s and kissed him very soundly though he’d looked an odd mixture of smug and confused when she said I love you for being you. You know that? 

And maybe it was wrong but Kate had gotten more than a little used to hearing it from him. Used to, no comfortable with the way it fell from his lips like a constant shower of praise. And no man was more effusive than drunk Anthony. Drunk Anthony loved Kate and he was not only content with her knowing it, but everyone around him had to as well. Katie! He called out when he stumbled in from Colin’s birthday party more than a little sloshed, leaning heavily on her shoulder after a drinking bet with Eloise had gone terribly awry. I’m right here Honey. She muttered half dragging him up the stairs of his house, cursing a little as Newton got underfoot. Oh my god! There you are! Katie, did you know I love you? And it was ridiculous how even this very drunk admission had her smile softening, her heart beating quicker. I do know that Anthony. I love you too. She said softly as she pulled him towards his bed, forcing him to sit as he whined. No! Kate you don’t understand! I love you, Love you! Like one day I wanna marry you, and I want you to have a baby with me, and we could just live in this house with your silly dog and be really happy all the time. Because I think you’re super pretty and your hair is so curly and it smells really nice and when you smile it’s like sunshine. He finished, sighing happily his eyes wide, and he looked so young and happy, that Kate’s breath caught in her throat all over again as she looked at her drunk boyfriend, grinning sloppily at her as she leant down and whispered in his ear You  won’t remember this in the morning, Honey, but I think you’re super pretty too. And I love you, Love you too and one day we can get married and have a baby . And honestly the happy little whoop! of joy he made right before he kissed her stole something from her chest.       

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes". (#I’mHereToKillYouAllWithFeels)

Furious didn’t begin to cover it. Penelope was practically shaking with rage as she made her way into the cool of night.   It was almost nice to feel something other than heartbreak though.

She couldn’t quite put a finger on who she was mad at. It was more a general anger that had been building up for some time.  The proposal had just been a triggered that sent it bubbling up.

She’d had to leave her home or she knew she would have done far worse than raise her voice or walk away from a proposal.  She had spent years dreading the moment she came of age to become part of society.

She’d been a particularly normal child and she knew that once upon a time her mother had treated her much the same she treated her other children.  Her sisters had always been naturally thin, perfectly average but she had always been softer.  Her mother had assumed she’d outgrow the baby fat but it never happened and the older she became, the more her mother saw fit to constantly insult her.

It was a nearly daily battle attack of her appearance and when it wasn’t that, it was something else.  At some point, she’d stopped thinking she’d ever amount to much of anything.  She never quite felt enough. Her mother had ensured as much. When her mother all but deemed her ineligible, she believed it to be true.

That was why she became skilled into camouflaging into walls.  If people didn’t notice her, they couldn’t hurt her.  Only part of her plan had worked.  The problem was that she did care.  She wanted to be the person who got asked to dance. She wanted someone to deliver her flowers. She wanted to be enough for someone.

She had been.

Her mind couldn’t quite believe the words that Colin had written her though. The last words he would ever write her.  There wouldn’t be any romance from Mister Bridgerton.

The fact that Benedict thought that he could just come, propose to her and everything was going to turn out okay was preposterous.

Sure, she knew he was a good guy. That wasn’t her problem though.

She’d spent half her life praying that one day she’d wake up and just be part of the Bridgerton family instead of her own.  She couldn’t do this though; She refused to accept a proposal borne of grief or sympathy.

She wouldn’t curse someone to the misfortunate of being stuck with her, especially when she knew that they weren’t in love with her nor she them.  Her mother would have found it foolhardy to even care about such things but for Penelope Featherington there was nothing more important.

Penelope wasn’t sure that anyone actually loved her. Even Colin had called her a friend.  She project her own feelings into his words a million times over but they didn’t make them his. She wouldn’t have believed them even if he uttered them to her.

That didn’t change the fact that Colin Bridgerton was the only man that she’d ever loved and in the depths of her heart, she wasn’t sure there was room for anyone else.

Colin had been there since he was a boy and even he would never be an old man, he’d be there in hers until her time came.

Perhaps that was why her feet carried her through the streets almost absently until she found herself pushing past a gate and into a darkened graveyard with an adjacent church.  It was almost eerie with the silence.

She made her path through the graves, not even stopping in her own family tomb where she knew her own father laid.  Instead she moved, not settling until she saw the Bridgerton name.  Without a body, Colin would never be placed there amongst his family members.

--

A gloved hand touched her back from behind and it was enough to startle her, made her turn in panic.  As childish as it was, she half expected to see a ghost. Instead she saw something far scarier: Violet Bridgerton.

The last time she’d seen the matriarch of the family, she’d been crumbling but the woman before her seemed back to her usual strength, though clearly sad.

“I apologize for startling you,” Violet said before her eyes seemed to access the situation and concern spread across her features.  “It’s not safe for a Lady such as yourself to be wandering after dark alone, improperly covered for the night.  You’ll freeze, My Dear.  What are you doing out here?”

“I – was,” Penelope stammered, mildly afraid and unable to really formulate an excuse in her head.  A part of her wondered just how much Violet knew of everything. She wasn’t about to ask.  Instead she recovered, nodded politely and said, “You’re unaccompanied yourself, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet, Dear,” she told her with a sad laugh, urging the informality. “I suppose that’s fair. I always sneak out when the children are distracted or asleep, especially when I wish to visit with their father.  I wasn’t aware he already had an audience tonight. Has he been much help?”

Penelope felt relief wash over her in a way.  She felt she had been let in on some really important adult secret.  She couldn’t help but wonder if any of Violet’s children knew about their mother’s habit.  There was something weirdly comforting in knowing that the woman still sought out her husband even though he’d been dead for so long.

Violet’s devotion to her husband was so endearing that Penelope couldn’t help but feel safe to speak openly.

“Sadly no,” Penelope told her.  “Though, I suppose the fact that you’re here could be an answer in itself. I’m sorry if I’m intruding on your time.”

Was this a sign?  Had Colin directed his mother here from Heaven to show her that even if he was gone it was okay to love him forever?

“It’s not an intrusion.  I’d be remiss to not side with you and say that this meeting was kismet,” the elder Bridgerton told her.  “Please unburden yourself on me.  My children think I’m so delicate that they’ve taken to keeping everything from me, forcing my convalesce instead of letting me attend to them and they’re the ones who need their mother most right now.”

Never in her life had she wanted Violet Bridgerton to be her mother more.

“Funny,” she started with a light smile. “They’re treating me much the same. Less mothering, more thinking I need to be … taken care of.”

“Do you not wish to be?” Violet asked, almost disregarding that there could possibly be more questions to ask before that for context. There was something in the look in her eyes that told Penelope that somehow the older woman knew far more than she was saying though.

“Not like this,” Penelope told her honestly.

“I take my role as mother very seriously. I’ve always known my children and the things that make them who they are.  I’ve known that you fancied my son for far longer than probably even you are aware. I’m also aware that of his many gifts, being quick on the uptake isn’t one of them,” Violet started in, leaving Penelope to awkwardly shift on her feet.  “Colin is – was – remarkable and I have no doubt he could have made you very happy but as his mother, I have to urge you to not miss out on life mourning him. Graveyards are lonely places to spend one’s time sneaking away to.”

“It’s not-“ Penelope started, wanting to protest a little and perhaps explain.

“No, you listen to me. When my Edmund died, the world ceased spinning on its axis. It took a considerable amount of time to find my footing again.  I had to learn to navigate life again. My children are who restored me. They healed me and every day I strive to heal them.  Grief doesn’t fade but you learn to live without those who leave you. My children are the living, breathing proof of a great love that exists only in my heart these days. They give my life meaning as they grow and begin their own lives. You must find what gives your life meaning. You do not have to let Colin go from your heart to leave room for others to enter it.”

“I don’t think anyone is exactly fighting for room in my heart,” Penelope finally managed to say. She still wasn’t completely sure how much her older companion knew. Would she be speaking to her in such a manner if she did.   “I don’t think I’m meant for a great love like yours. Not now.”

“Honestly Penelope Featherington!” Violet said with a motherly tick.  “You’re a delight. I’ve known you since the day your mother birthed you.  I won’t hear this because it’s simply not true. You were always destined for greatness. You’re just a caterpillar who hasn’t quite transformed into a butterfly yet.  Someone was always bound to see you for who you are.  I would have loved to have you as a daughter but even if you were never meant to be a Bridgerton, we’ll always be there to remind you of your worth. ”

[invisibleinorange]

A Different Ending, 3/?

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings:  Only be forewarned that this is an AU from the Adrift saga but Colin actually died in this one, so if he’s mentioned he’s actually gone. Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington (past feelings),  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics,  Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters:  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Penadict (do we have a ship name yet?)

Summary:  There were some requests for an alternate/Parallel word to "Bridgerton's Adrift" where Benedict and Penelope actually did get married. So this is the result of that peer pressure.

Things had come together so quickly that they didn’t really have anywhere to go, at least not anywhere that wasn’t full of a family.  Benedict had assured her that he was going to find the perfect home for them. During their brief engagement, he’d certainly saw fit to inquire about what she might like. If they were to have a home together, he wanted them both to be happy within it.

For their honeymoon, the Duke had generously offered one of his unoccupied family properties that was well-managed but would allow them the privacy that newlyweds deserved.  It was a considerable carriage ride but the conversation flowed easy and despite her own anxiousness about everything that had transpired, Penelope didn’t regret it.

There was one thing that she did worry about though and her mother had all but prepared her for it her whole life.  Men who didn’t marry for love were often known to stray and to have mistresses. She was fairly certain her mother and father had never loved each other.  They had kept separate bedrooms and while their duties were surely performed to have four children, they’d never been overtly affectionate to each other.

Penelope was terrified that Benedict would have the same expectations for marriage. She’d been a small child when Edmund Bridgerton had passed and the family hadn’t exactly been a mainstay in London after then. She’d only ever known Violet as a widow despite stories of how her marriage had been a love match.  Would he desire to build the same or cast her aside in search of it as soon as the novelty wore off?

Somewhere after the short tour of the space they would spend the early weeks of their marriage, she was quickly confronted with prospect of being just like her mother and she didn’t care much for it.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about … well, tonight so I told them that they should set up your own room,” Benedict told her with an anxious smile, his hand still firm in hers.  His aim was to comfort her and to not make her feel any real pressure to do something she might not be ready for.   He hadn’t even tried to kiss her. The look on her face was enough to tip him off that whatever his aim had been; he’d likely made a mistake.

“Do you not wish to share a bed with me?” she asked him after a moment, feeling his gaze burning down into her as if wanting her to tell him what she wanted and how much of an idiot he actually was.  She wasn’t even able to meet his eye at that.

He shook his head at the question.

“That’s hardly it,” he told her, free hand to tilt her chin upwards to have her look at him.  “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m not the kind of man who forces someone to enjoy my company.”

“I do enjoy your company,” Penelope assured him.  “I just – my parent never shared a room. I’m pretty sure the only time my Papa ever joined Mama was when he’d partook of too much drink. I can’t even honestly say that they loved each other.”

Benedict nodded in understanding.

“I don’t take my vows lightly,” Benedict assured her.  “My father loved my mother tremendously. You couldn’t keep them apart – it’s why there are so many of us. He might have died before I reached manhood but he did show me what it means to be a decent husband and I assure you that I fully intend to be one to you.”

“Then I don’t want to be apart from you,” she told him simply.

It didn’t need further explanation and it wasn’t even something he wanted to debate.  He wanted to be near her as well and even if their marriage wasn’t consummated tonight, the next night or the night after that, he was going to be glad to just have her there with him.

He nodded, releasing his hand from her face before gesturing toward the room next to the one he’d identified as hers.  He might have been willing to give her the space to have her own room but he’d not wanted to be far from her. He didn’t particularly care if the servants talked about the fact they were newlywed and not sharing a bed but he would have been bothered if she was far away and he couldn’t protect her.

He used a foot to open the door to what was now going to be there room.  It was far nicer than their rooms back in London had ever been.  Even if their families were far from impoverished, what they could afford was hardly equal to that of the Duke.

“Will this do for you?” he asked quietly.

“The bed looks particularly comfortable, especially after all the excitement and travel,” she admitted.  “Do you know if my trousseau had been moved up here yet?”

Benedict’s cheeks turned slightly pink at the thought of it.

“It’s likely in the other room,” he confessed. “I will have them move everything after we’ve managed to get some rest.”

“Then I will go get ready,” she told him.

Benedict let her hand go so that she could slip into the other room, watching as she disappeared before busying himself to slip out of his clothes and into a nightshirt.  He typically opted for less but decided modesty might be his best route.

He settled on the side of the bed closest the door, above the covers to wait for her.  His intention was to stay awake until she got back. Perhaps engage in a little more conversation before sleep took over but he hadn’t realized how tired he was and he drifted quickly.

When Penelope returned to let herself in, she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset with him for having fallen asleep.  She had a robe over a nightgown picked out by Violet herself. She remembered distinctly blushing as Violet had made commentary about how that would certainly encourage a quickening of grandchildren.

She wasn’t so certain about that at the moment.

She gently moved to tug the blankets up and over her new husband before moving to discard her robe and crawl into the other side.  She was careful not to wake him but he was sleeping too hard for her to possibly have done so.

She blew out a candle lighting the room before she curled on her side facing him, brushed some hair out of his eyes before placing a light kiss to his temple and murmured a soft, “Good Night”.

Whatever Benedict was dreaming about seemed pleasant enough and she hoped to join him there.

--

“How could you?”

He heard the words and then felt his body being shoved.  Panic and fear filled his lungs as he hit the ground hard, eyes widening when he saw who had pushed him.

Colin stood above him, looking at him with such disdain, anger.

“Please calm down,” Benedict pleased trying to climb to his feet.

“You knew that she loved me and you still married her,” Colin accused. “You couldn’t even wait until my body had properly decayed.”

“I’m sorry -.”

“You’re not sorry,” Colin accused, fist swinging at him again while Benedict tried to dodge.  “I’m never going to let you be happy.”

“Please let her be happy then.”

“- Only after you’re rotting in the ground.”

--

Penelope was startled awake by the shifting in the bed next to her. She felt Benedict tossing and turning in the space next to her.  He was pleading in his sleep, begging someone. She heard please and sorry enough times that she couldn’t help but gently try and curl her arms around him.

“It’s a dream,” she said softly. “Just a dream.”

He came to alertness in jarring quickness, his brow wet with sweat. He was prepared to fight and yet, he was wrapped in softness and he could hear her voice so he was forced to just breathe and try and settle down.

“I’m sorry,” he told said this time toward her.  His voice was strangled and she’d not quite ever seen him this way.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she told him firmly, holding onto him all the tighter. The ungodly hour didn’t matter anymore than the loss of sleep.  Normal people wouldn’t have been sleeping anyways on their honeymoon. “Just breathe, Ben. It’s all going to be okay.”

“I – He hates me,” he said after a long minute.

Confusion flooded Penelope’s features.

“Who hates you?” she couldn’t help but ask though she quickly added. “I’m sure it’s all in your head it was just a dream.  You have nothing to worry about.”

“He’s haunting me.  I think he’s mad that I married you,” he told her.

Penelope’s face twisted in sympathy at that.

“Colin's not mad at you,” she said firmly, kissing his brow as if to try and comfort him further.  “He’s not haunting you.  It was just a bad dream.”

“But what if it isn’t?  He said that you won’t be happy until I’m dead.”

Penelope looked upset at that and for a minute Benedict thought she might agree with it but instead she shook her head, clutched him more fiercely.

“You being dead would make me the absolute opposite of happy,” she said resolutely before turning her attention to the emptiness of the room with a look that reminded him of his own mother when she’s help scare away monsters from under the bed. “Colin Bridgerton, if you’re in this room haunting your brother right right now, I demand you leaves him alone immediately until you have something nice to say.”

Benedict had thought he was going to be the one to protect her but maybe it was going to be the other way around.