#and when i saw the benedict one? yelled

[patroclusdefencesquad]

bisexual benedict bridgerton is everything i've ever wanted but bisexual francesca bridgerton is everything i didn't know i needed

[gogobootz1]

Dog Day Afternoon

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: New to town but oh-so sought after, a few stumbles might just lead you to love

Word Count: 3k

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Today, I write with news from the North. The reclusive Duke of Devonshire has come to London. It seems that after the death of his younger brother some time back, he is determined to find his eldest daughter, the new heir, a husband. The lady is supposedly very beautiful and will no doubt consume all of the attention of eligible young bachelors. I only bid good luck to her competition, as they will surely need it.

The fluffy tails of your two best friends could not keep still. The black Newfoundlands you had trained from puppyhood loved carriage rides, mostly because they loved meeting the horses before and after. You were sure they'd grow even more excited when you arrived at the park.

As the carriage slowed, you smiled, eager to get them some exercise. Your maid stepped out first, and you momentarily handed her both dogs' leads. Accepting a hand down from a footman, you turned to take them back when they broke free of her grasp entirely. Worse yet, they took off at a run.

You called after them, then whistled, but they were determined. Usually, they didn't give you any trouble with recall. Reaching for the dog whistle you kept on your person, you found nothing.

Without a second thought, you took off after them.

"My Lady!" Your maid called from behind you, panicked. You paid her little heed, anxious to have your babies back safe.

Park patrons stood as your dogs, followed by yourself, ran past. They gawked openly at the strange scene put on by an unknown young lady.

You were relieved when they slowed, but it didn't take long for them to sprint off again. They rounded a corner, quick as lighting. You kept after them, unable to see the obstacle around the bend.

Crashing right into someone's back, the two of you stumbled. The poor gentleman in front of you took the brunt of the impact, but you didn't have time to stay and make a formal apology. Staggering a bit, you resumed your chase.

"Sorry!" You yelled over your shoulder.

"Wait! Miss," the man called after you but gave up as you ran further away.

When your dogs ran off the path and into a clearing where people were picnicking, you grew really worried. Chasing after them on a trail was one thing, but ruining the outings of fellow nobility would be an altogether worse embarrassment.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized who the boys were scampering up to: your little sister. Abigail sat on a blanket with a girl who looked to be about her age. In her mouth was the dog whistle. You tended only to use that whistle when you took them out in the woods, and you'd trained them to run back to you at the sound of it. It gave you peace of mind knowing that you could call them back at any time if they went too far off in the forest or on one of your walks.

Abigail seemed pleased to see the two of them. A surprised grin graced her face as she patted them. They were even happier to see her, showering her in kisses. "Hoo-y? Moo? What are you doing here?" She giggled.

Her laughter stopped when she saw you stalking over. Thoroughly out of breath, you crossed your arms when you reached them. The three of them looked guiltily up at you. With a snap, your dogs came to sit on either side of you. Although your countenance was thoroughly enraged, scratching behind both dogs' ears decreased your intimidation factor.

"Why on Earth did you steal that?" You nodded toward your whistle.

"I think it makes for a chic necklace," Abigail said defensively. You stuck a hand out, and she reluctantly placed the whistle she'd put on a chain in it.

"And why on Earth were you using it?" You asked expectantly.

She held her hands up in surrender, "Miss Hyacinth was skeptical that the whistle could not be heard with human ears. I was simply showing her how it worked." Abigail was clever- you'd give her that. You could hardly scold her in front of her companion, and you wouldn't dream of scolding the other young girl for something so clearly not her fault. Using her as a human shield was a cowardly tactic by your sister, however. "And I thought you weren't arriving until later!"

"They were antsy. I figured I could abandon the harp in favor of allowing them some exercise," you explained, then glared at her, "This was not the type of exercise I had in mind."

"But Hoo-y and Moo love running free," she pouted at you.

"They are not allowed to run free in public spaces where I must chase after them!" You snapped at her. Crouching to get closer, you reached into your purse and gave both dogs a scrap of jerky. "Huginn and Muninn are both well-behaved gentlemen, and you may have tarnished their good names by causing this wild romp!"

"Huginn and Muninn? Does that make you Odin?" A deep voice called from behind you. You rose and turned to see a tall, handsome gentleman with dark hair.

His question took you by surprise. Most people did not understand their names. You blinked for a second before collecting yourself, "No." It was hardly a smart reply, but it was the most you could manage after chasing your dogs a few hundred meters. You shook your head a little, vaguely embarrassed by your answer, before turning back to the girls.

"Would you please excuse Lady Abigail, Miss Hyacinth?" The bright young lady nodded at you with a pleasant smile before you even finished speaking, "The least she can do after causing such trouble is help me walk the dogs." You directed the last part toward your sister, who reluctantly stood. Taking one of the leads from your hand, she bid goodbye to her companion before walking off. You nodded at the young lady and the handsome stranger before following after her.

Benedict watched you walk away from his sister's picnic spot, only slightly removed from the rest of the family's. He collapsed down next to Hyacinth and stole a grape from her plate, "Who was that?"

"My new friend, Abigail," she replied, smacking his wrist. He ate the grape anyway.

"And the older one?"

"Her sister," Hyacinth looked at him skeptically, "why do you ask?"

Benedict thought of how you'd practically pushed him to the ground in the middle of the walkway, then ran from the scene. "No reason," he shrugged.

——————————————

The first ball you'd be attending was later that evening, and you were incredibly nervous. Sat on the floor of the library, you brushed through Muninn's coat in an attempt to calm your nerves. Waiting for your father to finish changing was making you even more anxious, the dread just building up in your body.

"Why are you on the floor?" His voice finally came from the doorway.

"His coat needed brushing," you shrugged innocently. The Duke waved at you to come join him, and you stood, brushing some fur off yourself. Muninn stood, too, and closely followed as you joined your father.

"You're only lucky he didn't slobber on you," your father shook his head at you fondly, offering his arm.

Taking it, you made one last bid to skip the event, "Remind me why we are attending this?"

"A future Duchess needs a husband," he said simply.

"Does she really?" You asked wryly.

"No," your father answered seriously, causing you to stop. "Well, only if she should like a Duke or Duchess of her blood to follow in her footsteps," he tugged on your arm to keep you walking.

That only made you feel worse. While before you felt nervous, guilt was now in the mix. What if that didn't happen?

"If you never marry, I will not love you any less," he revealed. "I only ask that you try," your father asserted, "but if there is nary a man up to snuff, I would have you die a spinster." You laughed at that, feeling some pressure relieved. He joked with you for the duration of the carriage ride and up until you were announced at the ball.

"Now presenting; His Grace Daniel, Duke of Devonshire, and his daughter Lady-"

The entire company of the room turned to watch the two of you descend the stairs.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Your father whispered to you jokingly.

"Oh, only that awful mustache," you whispered back playfully. You caught the corner of his lip twitching as he tried not to laugh at the jab at his expense.

A few more seconds of staring had you whispering to him again, "I see now why you never leave the house." That earned a huff of a laugh from him.

"Let us thank our host, then visit the refreshments," he relayed the plan.

"Excellent idea," you replied quietly as he dragged you toward a finely dressed older woman.

"Lady Danbury," your father nodded at her in greeting.

"Lovely to see you again, Your Grace. It's been quite some time," she smiled at him knowingly.

"Indeed it has," he laughed, "may I present my daughter?" You smiled then, giving her a polite nod as well.

"My, how you've grown, my lady. The last time I saw you, you were far shorter than me," she chuckled, and you laughed politely with her. Unfortunately, you had no memory of that meeting. It must have been a long time ago, and she must have visited your home at Chatsworth House.

It was only a few more moments of small talk before your father excused the two of you, under the guise of not impeding her from talking to other guests.

He fixed you both a glass of lemonade at the refreshments table before he was pulled away. As much as he hated socializing, people loved him. He sent you an apologetic glance as he left. You only shook your head at him, smiling.

You took a brief glance around the room, noticing a few debutantes conversing near you. You sent them a smile, but they sneered in reply and closed ranks. Stunned at their response, you didn't quite know what to do.

"They can be rather mean," you turned to find a young red-headed woman beside you. "Not to mention jealous," she said helpfully.

"Jealous?" You were confused. They hadn't even met you. "Of me?"

"Oh, yes," she laughed a bit. "Haven't you read Lady Whistledown?"

You were embarrassed to have no idea of what she spoke, "I haven't met her. Is she in attendance?" That got an even greater laugh from your companion.

"Lady Whistledown is a gossip columnist and a rather popular one at that," she informed you, and you felt foolish for your last comment. "She wrote about you in her latest issue."

"Really?" You were stunned, as you'd only recently arrived in London.

"She predicted you'd steal the attentions of every available gentleman away from your fellow debutants," she nodded.

"No wonder they hate me," you sighed, sorry to have made a bad impression on the debutants before making their acquaintance. "Oh, I'm sorry, I still haven't introduced myself!" You were eager to make at least one good first impression.

"I'm Penelope Featherington," she said with a smile.

"I must admit, Miss Featherington," you shook your head, "I think Lady Whistledown's prediction will prove incorrect." She tilted her head and gestured for you to go on, "I've not been approached by a single gentleman."

Penelope took a quick look around the room, accidentally meeting a few pairs of eyes. Plenty of people had already been looking in your direction. She smiled a bit at your obliviousness, "I think perhaps they're just intimidated."

"Oh no," your eyes widened, "have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all," she assured you, "I think it's just... no one wants to take the first shot at a great stag and miss."

"I'm not sure I like being prey in this metaphor," you deadpanned, causing her to laugh once again.

It seemed one young gentleman mustered the courage to be the first to approach, and he really was young. "Good evening, ladies," he greeted you both, then offered you his hand, "would you care to dance?"

You placed your hand lightly in his but sent Penelope a look as he led you off. She giggled as you went. From there, you were off to the races. Dance after dance, gentleman after gentleman, you were exhausted.

"Please excuse me, sir, I'm feeling rather parched," you did not even recall this one's name.

"Oh no, please, my lady, I shall fetch a beverage for you," he nodded, "stay right there! Don't move!" He kept eye contact with you as he walked backward a few paces. You couldn't help but walk backward away from him, and you continued to do so even after he'd scurried off.

In fact, you retreated so far back that you retreated right into someone else's back. You both turned.

“You rather love bumping into me,” the gentleman you’d seen earlier said.

“Excuse me?” You certainly hadn’t seen him before this morning, so you had no idea what he meant by that smart comment. Your offense at his statement outweighed the sway of his good looks, unlike earlier.

“This makes twice,” he insisted, “once chasing after your ravens and once just now.”

It took you a second to catch up, “It was you I knocked over in the park earlier?!” Embarrassment rolled over you like a wave. “Oh God,” this was awful, “I am so incredibly sorry. Truly, I am mortified. And I would have apologized earlier, I-“

He only laughed a bit, “It’s quite alright. I got the sense you were in a rush.” His teasing tone brought a smile to your face.

“They’re usually so well-behaved,” you assured him, “I’m afraid my sister was behind the debacle.”

“Oh, yes, she was sitting with Hyacinth, was she not?”

“You know Miss Hyacinth?”

The gentleman grinned and bowed, “Benedict Bridgerton, her brother.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you smiled, “officially.”

“I’m not sure I caught your name,” right as he asked, you heard it being called.

“My lady?” You whipped around, and spotted the gentleman you’d abandoned searching for you. Wincing, you scuttled toward the closest pillar and ducked behind it. Benedict stayed put, but watched you run off with great amusement. After a moment, he chose to follow you.

“Are you hiding?” He teasingly asked.

You peered around the pillar, hoping the man had walked away. When you saw he hadn’t, you ducked away again, “yes!”

Benedict blinked at you, smiling, “Why?”

“My feet hurt,” you confessed, “I have danced every dance. I haven’t sat down in hours. Frankly, I’m surprised so many are interested after my jaunt through the park.”

“Perhaps they were impressed by your display of athleticism,” a crooked grin crossed his face. You leveled him with a look.

“There you are, my lady,” you jolted at the foreign voice, and Benedict had to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “I could not find you, so I’m afraid I drank your lemonade as well,” you could see Benedict’s shoulders shake with laughter, “Are you ready for our next dance?”

A look of pure horror must have crossed your face, because Benedict finally intervened, “I’m afraid she’s promised the next dance to me.” He pulled a pencil from a pocket in his jacket and outstretched one hand to you. You held out the arm your dance card was attached to, “In fact, I’ve very generously been granted all her remaining dances.” He winked at you as he filled in the four remaining spots. You fought off a grin.

“I see,” the man you interrupted you said sourly. He turned on his heel and marched away. Neither you nor Benedict could stop your laughter at his reaction.

“It is not my intention to further burden your feet,” he assured you after a moment, “I only hoped to dissuade him.”

“You did a fine job,” you grinned at him, “you have my gratitude.”

“I think I rather scandalized him,” Benedict chuckled, and you shook your head.

“It seems rather easy to scandalize this lot,” you said.

“Well, you’re right about that,” he nodded.

You sighed, “I think they’re all so concerned with presenting themselves as proper and important they forget to consider anyone else. Not one man I danced with asked me about myself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Benedict shook his head, “I hope the rest of your evening is more relaxing.”

“Thank you,” you nodded at him, “at the very least, I know my dogs will listen to me when I return to them.”

Benedict laughed at that and slightly bowed towards you again, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, my lady. I hope to bump into you again soon.”

Your eyes widened, “Maybe not bump.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled at you and nodded before leaving you free to go find somewhere to sit.

Soon enough, you father found you relaxing on a chaise lounge in a nearby study. He only shook his head, and offered you his arm to depart.

——————————————

The next morning brought with it house calls. You’d been hoping to spend a quiet morning working on a new piece for the harp, as you’d forgone practice the day before. But, much to your chagrin, you were forced to dress and be presentable within only ten minutes of your waking.

It didn’t take long for the sitting room to be bombarded with interested parties, though none were interested enough to truly speak with you. Each brought with him a new bouquet of flowers, and you soon grew worried you’d start sneezing uncontrollably. Eventually, you became so overwhelmed that you bribed poor Abigail to keep them occupied while you disappeared.

The only question she had for you was if you cared what she did to them. You’d given her free rein. With one look at her wicked grin, you fled the room.

Quickly turning the corner to another hallway, you quite nearly crashed into someone.

“That was almost three,” Benedict joked with you.

“Almost,” you highlighted, “but only a close call.”

“True,” he nodded.

"What brings you here?"

Benedict smiled, "I had hoped to call on you. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Not at all," you shook your head jovially.

"Excellent! I brought a gift," he produced a brown paper bag. You were slightly confused but glad for something other than flowers.

"Thank you," you reached for it, but he pulled it back.

"Not for you," he shook his head. You blinked back at him, wide-eyed. "Unless you have a proclivity for raw steak." Benedict laughed at the shock on your face, "I thought Huginn and Muninn might enjoy a treat."

A surprised smile eased onto your face. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at him, "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"Do you think they might also appreciate a walk in the park?" He asked, "A chance at redemption?"

"I think they'd like that," you grinned widely as Benedict smiled and offered you his arm.

---------------------------------------------------------

He didn't ask a single question! And he was wearing these- FUGLY jeans

Lol I've been toying with this idea since S3 part 1 came out, hope you liked it! I let her live in 2005 Mr. Darcy's luxurious mansion so you're welcome

(sorry for obscure norse mythology references)

[favefandomimagines]

Ocean Away (a.b)

Summary: a disastrous fight threatens to end your engagement with Anthony

AN: inspired by “Ocean Away” from the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical. I know it’s a song for Daphne and Simon but I thought it would fit so well with Anthony

This was deeeep in my drafts

He hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. What started out as a seemingly normal conversation, ended in both you and Anthony shouting at each other.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something.” You said to your fiancé. “Yes, darling?” He questioned. “When was the last time you saw Siena?” You asked.

The question took him aback. You have never spoken of Siena or his past endeavors. Meaning something must have made you ask him. “What has made you wonder such a thing?” Anthony asked. “Lady Whistledown,” You started before a scoff cut you off.

“Lady Whistledown? You are believing this gossip now.” He spoke. “She has never been wrong before, Anthony. She wrote that she saw you leave the opera house the other evening.” You said.

“An evening where you said you were with Benedict.” You added. “You are above believing these lies, Y/N.” He said. “You have not yet denied it once.” You replied.

Anthony had yet to deny any of what Lady Whistledown wrote and that made you fear that what you had read was true. “I should not have to. We are to be husband and wife in a matter of weeks and you question my fidelity to you.” Anthony said.

“Because two weeks before you proposed to me you were with her. Am I wrong for worrying?” You rebutted. “Your insecurities are not my doing, do not put this blame on me.” He snapped. “My insecurities? I have never been insecure in our engagement until you gave me a reason to be.” You spoke. “This is mad. You believe Lady Whistledown over me?” He asked.

“For goodness sake, Anthony, you have not denied it! There is only one side to this currently and it is hers.” You yelled. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to entertain this any longer.” He said, turning away from you. “You cannot even be honest with me, can you?” You asked quietly.

Anthony could hear the way your voice began to break as his back was to you. He never wanted to hurt you.

Hurting you was at the top of a list of things he never wanted to do to you. And by not claiming his innocence because of his pride, he was hurting you.

“I am going to spend the night in Eloise’s room.” You announced. Anthony still made no attempt to move or even apologize.

You wiped a tear from your face quickly as you headed for the door.

“I sincerely hope you know that Lady Whistledown said I was mad for accepting your proposal. That you would always be the naive and self-sabotaging young viscount. Please do not prove her right.” You spoke before leaving the room.

The problem was Anthony was a prideful man and it would be his pride that would prevent him from doing what was right.

The garden party was supposed to be a celebration of your engagement and it was turning quite sour. Luckily, no one knew of the turmoil that was going on because of the facade you had put on all day.

You spoke to guests, entertained their prodding questions into your wedding and tried to carry on with the afternoon. Your eyes often wandered to Anthony, who was standing stoically with Colin and Benedict. He looked as if he had completely forgotten about your argument as if it meant nothing.

It hurt you, seeing him act so blasè about what had occurred the night prior. That made you fearful because what if he ended the engagement? What if he did not want you anymore?

He had yet to apologize for the way he spoke and the words he said, you had hoped he had just forgotten. Or maybe he was not sorry at all.

You found Eloise and Penelope Featherington, both girls trying to help distract you from your own thoughts.

Eloise was one of your favorite people because of simply how she was unapologetically herself. She was a very funny young woman and that was refreshing in society.

Anthony watched you as you smiled and laughed with his sister by the lake. You were happy after all that happened last night. How could you be happy?

“How can she be smiling? It is as if she realized I am not what she wants.” Anthony spoke aloud. Benedict and Colin looked at one another, neither knowing how to approach the topic.

“Brother, maybe she is trying to be brave. Not let people know she is hurting. They all believe you were with Siena the other evening, she is trying to show it is all a lie. Even if she does not believe it herself.” Benedict said.

Anthony continued to watch you, your eyes never once meeting his gaze. He knew he needed to apologize to you. Tell you that he was never with Siena and the moment he realized you were who he wanted, he had not seen her.

There was a moment where he lost you in the crowd of people. He did not know where you went off to and that worried him more so than his pride.

Anthony started frantically looking around the grounds for you, weaving through the crowd until he spotted you sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

You had always loved that spot and often times Anthony would catch you reading there. It was also the spot you were sitting in when the two of you confessed your love for each other for the first time.

He approached you silently and sat down a few inches away from you.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You had just arrived at the Queen’s ball with your mother and it felt as if time stopped. There was nothing, that tempted me to take my eyes off of you. I knew then that I wanted you and only you. You made me believe that marriage could be for love and for nothing else.” Anthony spoke.

Him recounting the night of your debut made your eyes well up with tears.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that you will want her again and I cannot go through that kind of pain. I love you with everything that I am and if I was not enough for you, it would be the death of me.” You confessed.

Anthony looked at you with slightly wide eyes, never having heard your concerns before. He blamed his past behavior on your fears knowing it was not an easy feat to love someone with his reputation.

He moved closer to you and took your hand in his. “I am also afraid.” He spoke. It was then you looked at him with eyes wide, never having heard the man you love he so vulnerable.

“I am afraid that I will not make you happy. That one day you will wake up and feel like some other man could make you happier.” He continued. “I do not think there is another man in this lifetime who will make me as happy as you do.” You said.

“I have not nor will I ever, see Siena again. You are the woman I love, the woman I cannot stop thinking about. It will always be you.” Anthony said. “She has always had such a strong hold on you, forgive me for being skeptical.” You muttered.

“Now the only woman who has a strong hold on me is you. And that is how it will stay.” He replied. “Do you promise?” You asked. “I promise.” He spoke without hesitation.

Anthony took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.” He said. “I love you too.” You spoke. “And I’m sorry.” You added. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Anthony replied.

“Your mama might think we have run off and abandoned our own celebration.” You commented. “That does sound rather tempting.” Anthony teased.

You stood up and held your hand out for his, which he took with a smile. If you would have told Anthony Bridgerton that he was about to get married and to the love of his life, he would have called you mad. But here he was, and couldn’t have been happier.

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi could I request an Anthony bridgerton x wife(reader) angst where he married his wife who used to be from the lower class and they end up having a fight because she did something that is “out of class or wrong” so she ends up giving him the silent treatment

unfair (1)

(mean?) anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: after benedict makes a rude comment about your past and anthony doesn’t do anything about it, you and anthony end up having an argument

A/N- i hope this is alright, i felt the need to make it have a happy ending

part 2

-

Your husband of three months sat beside you with your hand gently clasped in his. You were at his family’s house for a meal and Benedict had been getting on your last nerve, he had arrived drunk for a start. He had also been attacking your social status as you were from a lower class family. Anthony knew this was getting to you, so he took your hand in a way to calm you. “So, Y/N, how was it growing up in the streets?”, Benedict obliviously questioned. You knew he was only saying it because he was drunk but this was too far. “Would you please stop going at me for where I grew up?!”, you raised your voice slightly as you stood up.

“Darling, sit down.”, Anthony carefully whispered to you, as if one wrong move would set you off. “No, I’m not going to sit down! Are you just going to let your brother treat me like that?”, you said lowering your voice towards the end. “Of course he has no right to treat you like that but darling, there is no need to raise your voice.”, the eldest Bridgerton replied.

You sighed in defeat. How was he going to just allow this? You arose from your seat again, tucked your chair in and stormed off into the room the two of you were currently staying in.

Violet watched you leave and turned to Benedict: “You can not act like such towards your brother’s wife, Benedict.”

Benedict just watched her in amusement but she knew he would regret this when he had sobered up. “I do not care if you’re drunk, tomorrow morning you will apologise to Y/N as she has done nothing wrong.”

“And Anthony, will you go and check on Y/N instead of just sitting there?! She is your wife, you know!”, Violet exclaimed. Anthony rushed off silently, realising he had acted impulsively. He lightly knocked on the door of your shared bedroom. “My love?”, he tenderly called out to you through the door, making sure he was alright to come in. “Go away.”, you yelled back at him. He could hear light sniffles and sobs. He felt awfully bad.

“Can I please come in?”, he tried again. Silence. He took this as a sign to go in. He was met with you weeping into the sheets of your king-sized bed. “Come here darling, it is quite alright.”, he hushed you but you pushed him away, ignoring his presence. “That was out of class, my love.”, he’d whisper, caressing the back of your hand. You instantly removed your hand from his. “How dare you speak to me like that?! Get out.” He saw the build up of tears in your eyes and knew he must leave you alone for the moment.

Why did he say that? What caused him to say that?

He sat idly against the back of his bedroom door, listening to you silently crying. Anthony felt horrible, he caused this! After half an hour, you opened the door to an asleep Anthony. He looked so peaceful- until you opened the door and he fell back. “Are you okay?”, you asked, trying to hide your laugh. “Yes, I am fine I believe.”, he smiled, watching you laugh. He let out his own quiet chuckle. “About before, I’m so sorry, my love…”, he began. “I do not know what got into me, I’m so sorry.”, he said with a longing and genuine look in his gorgeous eyes. “If you are truly sorry then I guess it is fine, you do have such an impulsive nature.”

Anthony sighed with pleasure as he brought his lips up to yours and hastily and passionately kissed you, breathing you in.

[dollypopup]

Today I'm thinking about how so much of Colin's narrative speaks to the neurodivergent experience of having to pretend to be someone else as a survival mechanism. Of the pressure in masking because your real, authentic self is rejected or ignored: too weird, too quiet, too loud, too gullible, too soft-heart, too. . .everything. Too anything. And at the same time, not enough.

Colin gets excited about his travels, about his hyperfixations, talks and talks and talks about them, and no one cares. So, Colin shuts up. Colin writes letter after letter, and gets no reply. So, Colin writes in a journal just for himself. Colin tries and tries to make his family proud, tries to marry, tries courting properly, and it blows up in his face. So, Colin chooses not to date, to become a spectator. Colin is yelled at for trying to invest, so he no longer asks or talks about money, doesn't try to rock the boat in his city. Who Colin is, what he wants, ceases to matter, the fabric of him folded smaller and smaller- instead he focuses on the shell. Builds it in image of his older brothers, of the men around him. Mirrors them.

Anthony says he should have taken Colin to brothels, that he's a fool for trying to marry and his engagement blows up- Colin thus goes to brothels. Colin hops from city to city, trying on new personas like outfits, fine tuning each one. Is this it? Will this be what finally makes them accept me? Colin's appeal to the women of the ton is that he does not talk about himself- but about them. That they're wearing beautiful dresses, that surely they'll find husbands. Separating himself from them- cannot tell them of his travels, that he's not the brave one, it was everyone working together to help with the balloon.

Deflect. Never centered. Colin exists on the outskirts as Pen does, he's just hypervisible for his exterior, and invisible otherwise. His charm is that he pleases those around him. His wounds are that the truest version of him cannot accomplish that. Thus, he becomes hyperaware of what his impact is, first to apologize and last to be forgiven. Living for the approval of others is a trap. He knows. He's fallen into it, a bear claw around his ankles.

He feels like the only way he's worthwhile is if he's providing something for someone. An apology, or comfort, or ease, compliments or winks, a laugh or a distraction, good looks or a fantasy. Providing a happy life for Pen by stepping out of the way, his own needs secondary. It's being there for his mum for an escort or a soft heart to heart. It's taking Anthony's disappointment in him and being indulgent to Eloise's insults. It's giving Benedict his special tea and saying hardly anything about why he bought it in the first place. Bringing gifts to family members who did not write back to him as he wandered the world, alone. It's sticking his neck out for Penelope with Jack, it's providing a dance or a rescue or a good time, checking on Marina to make sure she's alive and okay, listening to Phillip. Colin isn't at all comfortable being himself, the himself that is messy, so he covers it in the himself that is useful.

But what he does, what he provides other people, is not his actual worth. He thinks he's being altruistic by stepping aside and languishing in his feelings for Pen, believing she'll be happier in the future with Debling, waiting and waiting and waiting, until that candle burns out and he's at the 11th hour- and when he snaps and goes after her, when he cuts into her dance, when he runs for her in that carriage, he makes a choice for himself that he thinks, in some way, is selfish.

But it isn't. It's what she wants, too. And there's something beautiful in the fact that with Penelope, his being real, what he thinks is so difficult and unwanted, is actually giving her what she has desired all along. They both find fulfillment and contentment in his unmasking. Penelope never wanted the shell. She saw what was beneath it. She loves what's beneath it.

And I think there's something. . .healing, in that narrative. That us ND peeps who mask as a means of fitting in- that will never bring us happiness. Not really. That it didn't bring Colin happiness.

His arc is realizing that he should be his true, authentic self, and that love will bloom from it. And it does.

I don't know. I think I can learn something from that. I think I'm going to carry that with me for a while.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 1

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone. 

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete. 

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.  

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness. 

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now. 

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 5 - This Was Never The Way I Planned

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Modern AU

Summary: A double date with an unexpected outcome...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: discussions of sex, swearing, public sexual acts.

Word Count: 3.0k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, Benedict and reader attempt to set each other up, but it does not go at all to plan. This chapter is dedicated to @musicismyoxygen84 and published today to commemorate the birthday of Mr Thompson, the man who plays this titan of a fictional character. Enjoy <3

18 months ago (3 months later)

“Your face is naked!!”

“Not quite the greeting I was expecting,” he laughs and leans in to give you a quick hug.

It’s New Year's Eve, and Benedict has shaved his beard off since you saw him a few days before Christmas. He looks younger and older at once, somehow, without it. Very handsome, though. His strong jawline is even more apparent now. Bastard.

You’re at some fancy rooftop party somewhere on Shoreditch High St., agreeing to be each other's plus ones, both of you not wanting to stay home and get maudlin about how your lives have changed since the last New Year celebrated with other halves.

“I like it,” you offer, “I can see more of your face.”

“This is indeed my face,” he laughs. “I figure new year, new me,” he shrugs, and you completely understand his reasoning. You briefly considered dying your hair for a similar reset.

A few hours later, you’re both quite a few drinks in, sitting at the bar. Most people, by this point, are dancing. The music has a hypnotic, heavy bass that makes you sway subconsciously on your bar stool.

“Come on, let’s dance then,” it’s almost a defeated sigh as he hauls you to your feet, two large hands landing on your hips as he walks you forward from behind. The touch surprises you, but it’s most definitely not unwelcome.

“You don’t dance,” you laugh over your shoulder as he propels you towards the dancefloor. Then gasp as he grabs your hand and expertly spins you away and back, your body curled into his—a warm solid mass.

“Don’t I?” It’s silky, murmured into your hair, and your mouth drops open in surprise. 

“Benedict Bridgerton!” You admonish as he starts to lead you expertly in a salsa-type dance. “How dare you keep this from me!”

He spins you away again with a devilish grin, then back into his arms, your bodies swaying together. Something in your tummy flutters as he leads you in a dance, his hold always respectful but the moves undeniably sensual. You can feel the latent power in his body as it flexes around you. It makes your thoughts scatter in directions they shouldn’t—like when you got a preview of his sexual prowess, although for comic effect, in the restaurant weeks ago. The way he growled ‘look at me’ has occasionally popped into your head at the most inopportune moments since, making you squeak self-consciously. Last week, you dropped the gravy at Christmas dinner when it happened.

“TEN SECONDS TO NEW YEARS!!” the DJ yells, cutting into your abstraction and turning down the music.

There is an awkward moment where you stop dancing but stay holding each other as if you are, as everyone around you starts counting down. Your gaze falls from his eyes to his lips unconsciously.

“Do you want to get some air?” he blurts out, and you nod, grateful. It suddenly feels too hot on the dancefloor.

He releases his tight hold and slots your hand into his, leading the way, weaving through the crowd until you are out on the terrace. It’s so cold and crisp that few other people brave it. You stand awkwardly, half facing each other as party poppers go off inside, people yelling, and couples kissing. 

His eyes cut to yours as you share a slightly awkward smile, uncertain, even tipsy, about what you should do.

“Happy New Year,” Benedict says softly.

“Happy New Year,” you reply, a flutter in your gut as he moves in for a hug and a friendly kiss.

It’s just a peck on the lips, but your stomach leaps regardless. His lips are warm and soft in the cold night air. You long to linger, grab his clothing and draw him in for more, bow your body into him, and let him plunder from you. The want for much more is electric. However, it’s over in a second, and when you pull apart, something in his expression looks thoughtful, almost puzzled. 

Just as you go to say something to cut the tension of the moment, someone very drunk stumbles out of the party and projectile vomits right next to you both, narrowly avoiding your shoes.

“Seems an apt metaphor for the year we’ve just had,” Benedict comments drolly. And just like that, the odd spell between you is broken as you share a laugh and quickly move away.

——

“I’m not sure about this,” Kate wavers as you drag her down the pavement with your arm looped in hers on a cold Thursday evening the following March.

“Ben is a great guy; I really think you’d like him. It’s just dinner; where’s the harm?” you cajole.

This is a plan you and Benedict had hatched over dinner last week. He softly admitted he thought he might be finally ready to start dating again and did you know of anyone single. Your first thought was, of course, Kate, wanting her to find a good man to pull her out of the toxic thing she has with that married man. The idea of your two closest friends potentially finding happiness together gives you such a warm glow. You suggested a double date, a safe way for you to introduce each other to people you know. That’s when he lit up and said he was confident you’d like his older brother Anthony.

So now you are marching towards the restaurant to meet Benedict and his brother. 

“I still don’t understand why you are trying to set me up with this guy if you have deemed him not good enough to date yourself,” she grouses.

“Kate, that's not it at all. He’s a fantastic guy. Definitely good enough to date. We are just friends, that’s all,” you insist.

She shoots you a side-eye.

“Listen, I’ll admit, this is going to be his first date since his marriage breakup,” you hold up a silencing hand when you see her go to protest, “but that’s a good thing. He has taken the time to heal and is finally ready to date again. He is a nice guy and available, unlike someone you know,” you conclude pointedly.

She sighs.

“He’s never going to leave his wife, Kate,” you add, knowing where her thoughts have run.

She slumps her shoulders. “You’re right; I know you’re right. Okay…” she concedes.

--

“Explain to me why you’re trying to set me up with the woman you are in love with,” Anthony drawls as their Uber crawls through Soho traffic.

Benedict splutters. “I’m not in love with her!”

“You talk about her ALL the time,” Anthony says pointedly, looking at him sceptically.

“She’s my best friend; of course I do,” Benedict frowns. “And you just said you wanted to meet someone who isn’t - I quote - so dumb you want to smack yourself. She’s smart, and I think you’d get on really well.”

“Fine,” Anthony capitulates, “but you’re paying for dinner, and if it goes tits up, remember, this was all your idea.”

“Guilty as charged,” Benedict concedes, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

--

Twenty minutes later, you are sat around a circular table, close to Anthony, opposite Benedict, who sits close to Kate. You wouldn’t deny that Anthony is a handsome man, and you can see the family resemblance, even though his eyes are brown to Benedict’s blue. He’s different in personality, though, no-nonsense, forthright and every inch the CEO he is. Very different to Benedict’s more laid-back temperament that you are so used to. It’s obvious Anthony runs on a schedule, whereas Benedict lives in the moment. 

How different they are preoccupies your mind, to the point it overshadows your listening to him as he speaks. Too caught up in your own analysis. The conversation is one-sided as he waxes lyrical about the things he loves - apparently mostly sailing and investments so far -  topics you struggle to contribute to.

“Kate,” you pipe up when there is an awkward lull after you have all placed your orders. “Benedict used to live in France, just like you,” you offer as a conversation starter for them.

“Oh, where did you live?” she asks him.

“Paris. You?”

“Grenoble.”

And they sort of both look at you askance, wondering what else you can do to assist. It’s obvious there is not much chemistry there, and they are struggling even to make small talk.

“Anthony,” Benedict leaps in, seeing it is quiet on your side too, “y/n here’s parents used to live in Twickenham, right by your beloved Harlequins,” hoping that will help you.

“Urghhh, Harlequins. Really?” Kate cuts in, unable to school her disgust. You forgot about her somewhat incongruous love for rugby—what started as something about wanting to see thick thighs morphing into a whole pastime for her.

Instantly you see Anthony bristle. “What's wrong with the Harlequins?”

“Umm, I think you mean, what’s right with them, don’t you?” Kate shoots back over the table, tapping a painted nail on the surface. “Your team has been shit this year,” she opines, forthright, tossing her hair.

“What do you know about rugby?” Anthony leans in, his whole demeanour changing, suddenly looking very engaged for the first time this evening.

“More than you ever will, probably,” Kate raises a challenging eyebrow and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

Before you know it, they have launched into a heated, complex debate about the sport, gesturing wildly and arguing back and forth. You’ve never seen Kate so animated. And while you don’t know Anthony, anyone could read from his body language how invested he is.

Your eyes drift across the table to Benedict and his to you. Realising what is happening, feeling guilty, the person you have brought for each other is not a good match for either of you. A little shocked at how instant Kate and Anthony’s connection, albeit antagonistic, is. 

As the meal is served and the wine bottle content diminishes, conversation flows easier between the four of you than your pairs. But it seems like, at every opportunity, Kate and Anthony find a reason to challenge each other on everything from what should be included in a full English breakfast to the state of politics. As your dinner plates are taken away, they are fighting about Netflix.

“You are saying people should be able to share accounts, ad infinitum? Do you have any idea how much that is abused?” Anthony decries, very much in businessman mode.

“Oh yeah, poor little rich boy Netflix. They are so impoverished they were only able to spend, what, $20 million per episode on the last series of Stranger Things? Positively bankrupt. Pass me a tiny violin,” Kate sneers rolling her eyes.

Benedict's gaze cuts to yours, concerned, but you just shrug. It seems like they are getting pleasure from riling each other up; you see how Kate’s eyes flash, and it's not in annoyance. She is stimulated by it, sparring with a handsome man who can actually keep up with her for once. It’s more than a rare thing; it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it.

So when Anthony’s phone rings and he insists he needs to take it, Kate uses the break in their bickering to head to the loos.

“Bloody hell,” Benedict blows out his cheeks as you are left alone together at the table.

“They either hate or adore each other, I think maybe both,” you opine, taking a gulp of wine.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” he confesses, shaking his head disbelieving.

“It's a long time since I've seen Kate be quite this animated, I’ll admit,” you shrug.

As dessert arrives in their continued absence, you and Benedict chat amiably, shifting your seats closer to sit next to each other. In fact, it's only as you put down the spoons after sharing a creme brûlée that you notice Kate and Anthony have been gone for quite a while now—fifteen minutes or more.

“Where are they?” you frown.

“Ant headed that way when he took his call,” Benedict states, nodding towards a corridor.

“I think that's where the loos are,” you hum, thoughtful.

You exchange looks.

“Do you think they bumped into each other and continued arguing outside? I think there’s an outdoor space back there,” his tone intrigued.

You shrug. “Maybe?”

“I need the gents anyway. Let me go check,” he smiles.

“Okay,” you nod, reaching for your phone to text Kate.

Y/N: Where are you?

You've barely scrolled through a few Insta posts when Benedict is back with what you can only describe as a haunted look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” your question is a reflex to his expression.

“Yeah, uh, they’re not fighting,” he stutters.

“What happened then?”

“Uhhh, they are umm…” you've never seen him look so awkward and embarrassed. 

Then the penny drops.

“Fucking hell!” 

“Yeah…” his eyebrows shoot up.

“I have to see!” you stand up.

He reaches out and grabs your elbow. “No… you really don't.”

“Are they actually fucking?” your ask is a whisper.

“Pretty much,” he exhales, “I walked away when I saw… movement.” 

“Wow,” you utter, then after a few minutes of silence. “Still sort of want to see,” you murmur, and Benedict looks at you with intrigue. “What?” you add, defensive.

“Never took you for a voyeur…” he comments, an element of gravelliness there.

“Oh, come on, our best friends are fucking on some outdoor dining tables. We should at least check they are okay,” you answer in a playful tone; you cant help.

“That's my brother,” he reminds deadpan.

“OK, fine, you stay here,” you stick your tongue out fractionally, feeling his incredulous gaze as you stalk down the corridor, shooting him a wink over your shoulder as you go.

At the far end of the hallway is a glass door, and as you pull up, you survey the outside space; over to the left, there is an outdoor deck filled with outdoor dining tables. The light is low, but there indeed is Kate, perched on a table edge, her shapely, beautiful legs wrapped around Anthony, her skirt pushed up around her hips as they kiss hard. If they aren't doing it, they are doing an excellent impression of it, him rocking against her slowly, everything concealed by the expensive dark wool coat he wears. 

Somehow you linger, almost hypnotised by how good they look together. Part of you is so very pleased for your friend, completely unsurprised she would just go for it like this; when she wants something, she grabs it with gusto. Apparently, that includes one Anthony Bridgerton. If you are being honest with yourself, an even more significant part of you is jealous. It’s been a while since you shared a passionate moment like that.

Taking a deep breath, realising there could well be CCTV of you peering at them, you turn around to return to your seat. At the other end of the corridor is Benedict, watching you. He looks mildly troubled, to the point you feel self-conscious as you walk towards him.

“You watched them for a while,” he comments with a slightly uneven tone, a little vein in his neck pulsing.

“They look good together, not going to lie,” you offer with a neural shrug as you pull up next to him, and something makes you look up into his eyes. His pupils are slightly dilated. It's a very beguiling look on him. You don’t seem able to look away.

“Do you often watch other people have sex?” It’s an odd cadence like he’s attempting nonchalance and failing.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” you respond truthfully, keeping your voice low, not only not to be overheard but also to ensure he has to stay close to hear it, enjoying the proximity when he seems so flustered. “I was trying to figure out if they were actually doing it or just something else.”

“Something else?”

“Maybe just hand stuff?” you suggest.

“Yeah…I shouldn’t have asked,” he admits, pulling a face. “I don’t want to think about my brother doing.. that. Or anything really.”

“Let’s get out of here then?” you offer, moving towards the table and picking up your coat from the chair back.

He glances back towards the glass door and then nods. “I already paid. We could,” he comments. “Do you think they’d be okay with it?”

“I doubt they even remember we were here tonight,” you comment dryly.

--

You and Benedict retire to a pub a few doors down, grabbing a drink and sitting in a quiet corner. Just as you go to take a sip, your phone pings.

Kate: Where did you go?

“Looks like they emerged,” you inform him as your fingers fly over the screen, composing a reply just as his phone pings too.

Y/N: We left. We saw you guys…

Kate: Oh… you dirty little pervs 😉

Y/N: Says the woman fucking on a public dining terrace

Kate: We weren’t fucking!! I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me at the same time.

Kate: I did it to shut him up, tbh. It worked. 😌

Kate: Such an arrogant twat.

Kate: Fuck, he has a nice cock, though.

Kate: Oh God… I really like him. 🫣

You chuckle as you watch your friend unravel in real-time. You glance up and see Benedict is head down in his phone, too, probably texting with Ant.

Kate: Fuck it. I’m going home with him. He just asked.

Kate: I can’t say no to a cock (all senses of the word) like that.

Kate: Ciao Bella xx

Kate: if you don’t hear from me in 3 days, send an SOS. I don’t want a pussy prolapse…

Y/N: Wow, the ✨romance✨

Kate: No joke, I think imma marry this one.

Y/N: 🤣🤣🤣

Kate: Bitch I’m serious. You’ll see…

“They are going home together,” you mutter to Benedict as he puts his phone down.

“So I hear,” he raises his eyebrows with a twisted lip.

“What does it say about us that we thought they would be a good match for you and me? When it seems they were a much better match for each other?” You ponder aloud, almost vulnerable in tone.

“Shut up and drink your wine,” he grumbles.

That is an entirely fair suggestion.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[a-tortured-poets-quill]

The Origin Story of Laughing Jack and Isaac - Chapter Two

The gravel road was rough, causing the one-horsed closed carriage that was carrying Isaac to bump and shake, tossing the poor boy around. Isaac had never ridden in a carriage before; he had never had the need to. Everything he had ever needed had always been at home.

Now, however, the joggling of the carriage made Issac’s stomach do flips, and he felt he may hurl. He grabbed at the leather cushioning of the carriages sitting and looked out the quarter lights to distract himself.

It was already sunset. Isaac could tell by the luminous warm hues that now painted the sky. It reminded him of his mother’s watercolor paintings. Sometimes, after schooling, he would follow his mother out into her gardens and she would bring out canvases and paints. He thought about her explaining the different hues and importance of shape and texture. Even though hers always looked better than his, she always praised him.

He missed her greatly now. He hoped his father wasn’t being cruel. He hoped she wasn’t too lonely.

He also thought about Jack. He hoped his friend was okay, hoped he wasn’t too lonely and cramped in the confines of his box.

Isaac sighed, lifting his legs up and tucking them against his chest. He rested his head against the padding of the door and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would take away the sick feeling in his stomach and the heavy melancholia that now lay hazy on his mind.

✦ ✦ ✦

Isaac was awoken by the sound of horses neighing, men’s yelling and crunching of concrete. He lifted his head off of the door, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He jumped back, startled, when the door was suddenly swung open.

“Get out. We’re here,” Isaac heard a rough voice call to him, and he slid his small body across the seat and out of the door.

It was dark now, the only light torches the carriage-men were carrying and the moon. Isaac turned his head up to look around, and was met with a large, metal gate. It was in the shape of an arch. Above the doors, the metal had been twisted into intricate shapes, and in between a decorative script read St. Michael’s Reformatory School for Troubled Boys.

Two men, also holding torches, pushed the large doors of the gate open. Behind the large gates was a building that looked like one of the Catholic Abbey’s Isaac had seen in a painting once.

“Here,” one of the men said, and shoved Isaac’s suitcase into the boys arms. “Now go on through those gates. We can’t wait here all night.”

Isaac looked back to the gates, and took a few steps forward. Once he passed through the threshold of those gates, he felt a chill run through him. He looked back behind him to see the doors already being closed.

The walk up to the doors of the building was paved with gravel that crunched and was hard to walk on. Isaac looked around, trying to find something to distract himself from the cold pit of anxiety that had dug into his gut.

The front of the Abbey was decorated with flowered bushes; white roses, lilies and gardenias that caught the milky glow of the moon in their velvety petals and appeared to be glowing themselves. Large willow trees framed the front sides of the building, their drooping branches catching the glow of the moon as well and casting ghost-like shadows across the ground.

As Isaac got closer to the Abbey, he noticed there was someone standing in front of the doors. And then, when finally at the stairs, he saw that it was a man. A priest, more precisely, Isaac realized, when he noticed the vestment the man was wearing.

He seemed to be very tall, and looked down at Isaac with an inquisitive set of grey eyes. His features were large, and the lines of his frame were harsh and prim.

Then the man spoke, and said solemnly, “You’re size is small. What is your age?”

“Eleven years.”

“So much?” the priest said, with a doubtful tone. “Your name?”

“Isaac Grossman, sir.”

“Well, Isaac Grossman, welcome to St. Michael’s. I am Father Benedict. Tell me, Isaac, do you know who St. Michael is?”

Isaac shook his head.

Father Benedict hummed. “One of God’s greatest archangel’s, a spiritual warrior, in the battle of good versus evil. Tell me, Isaac, do you know the difference between good and evil?”

Isaac nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And is deceit a trait of good or evil?” the priest inquired.

“Evil.”

“Yes, very good,” the man seemed to praise, but his eyes looked on Isaac with disdain. “According to the letter your father wrote me not just this morning, you are very deceitful. Indeed, such a sad fault in a child,” Father Benedict declared; “it is akin to falsehood, and all liars will have their place in the lake burning with fire and brimstone.”

Isaac envisioned the thought of fire and skin being melted from bone, and he cringed.

“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,” the man began again, “especially a naughty little boy. Do you know where the wicked go after death?”

“They go to hell,” was Isaac’s answer.

“And what exactly is hell? Can you tell me that?”

“A pit of fire.”

“And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning forever?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what must you do to avoid it?”

Isaac deliberated for a moment, and then answered, “I must keep in good health, and not die.”

“How can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die daily. I buried a little child of five years old only a day or two since; a good little child, whose soul now rests in heaven. It is to be feared the same could be said for you, for if the will of our Lord takes the good heart of a pure child from the Earth, how can we say it wouldn’t be the same for an odious child?”

Isaac could only cast his eyes down, focusing on the two large feet planted on the ground in front of him, and sighed, wishing himself far away.

“I hope that sigh is from the heart, and that you repent of ever having been the occasion of discomfort to your mother and father.”

Isaac looked back up to the man, wide eyed. A discomfort to his parents? The thought of that filled him with dread. He had always carefully obeyed, strenuously tried to please, but it seemed the effort was repulsed and repaid in this. Isaac perceived that his father was already obliterating hope from the new phase of life which he was destined to enter in telling this stranger that he was bad of character, and the accusation cut Isaac to the heart.

“Yes, sir,” Isaac replied to the man’s previous statement, and struggled to repress a sob, hastily wiping away some tears, an impotent attempt to get rid of the evidences of his anguish.

“Very good,” Father Benedict said. He turned around and began to push the doors of the Abbey open, standing aside and beckoning for Isaac to follow. “Now come along, Isaac.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Isaac’s new room looked more like a cell than a bedroom.

The walls and floor were a dark grey color. The furnishings consisted of only a metal frame bed, sheeted in white cloth, and an oak desk. It felt cold and was filled with a thick uneasiness.

“We wake up at six each morning. Prayers, then breakfast. After that, classes, until five when we have afternoon prayers, and then dinner. Curfew is seven o’clock.” Father Benedict spoke from the doorway.

Isaac could only mutter a, “Yes, sir,” as the Father closed the door.

Isaac simply nudged his suitcase against the wall. It seemed like too big of a task to unpack, or do anything besides crawl into bed and sleep for hours. He curled in on himself, and before long began to cry.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong. Did I not do good enough?” Isaac sobbed into the quietness of his new room. “I promise, I’ll try harder. I’ll do enough.”

This pain was like nothing Isaac had ever felt before. In that moment, he realized the worst feeling must be that of being unloved.

✦ ✦ ✦

Divider link

[pensbridge]

An Outline of the Reactions of the Bridgerton & Featherington Families walking in on Polin

ANTHONY *He is furious, but a toned down and "lighter" furious than that of what he held with Daphne. He's learned...somewhat, and significantly calmed down since marrying Kate, but "How could Colin do this and compromise Penelope Featherington?!?" [in fact he might go to Kate with these words]; eventually he acts as the older brother and after the harsh, hurtful words and unintentioned insults occur comes the sweet, heartfelt and sentimental moment where he gives advice/attempts to find a solution to any situations needing action.

BENEDICT *doesn't care/finds it amusing; proceeds with all the ammunition-> makes jokes to Colin & 100% roasts him on his cluelessness to, in fact..HELP her find a husband that is not him

ELOISE *ACTUALLY furious!; she is shocked as she never foresaw this coming; grossed out and in need of something to obscure her vision from the nightmare she just witnessed//she will question if Colin is clueless to Pen's secret, and (if she discovers them b4 her and Pen make up,) advise Colin to stay away from such a "snake;" however she will also at some point yell at him for going for her friend as her protective-mode chimes in

FRANCESCA *less severely grossed out; possibly saw it coming, because she's been extra observant the past few months; the worst person next to Benedict to be in possession of this knowledge for the fact that they are not subtle-she makes little comments and snarky remarks in front of Mama Bridgerton and the family that lets the cat out of the bag literally seconds after Colin even presents the prospect of a wedding to them

GREGORY *Shocked/surprised; he is tired of all these intelligent, beautiful women-as if they are not sunshine perfection-falling for his idiotic older brothers (makes that face like when Anthony proposed to Edwina)

HYACINTH *complete disgust, though not surprised... also a tattletale

PORTIA *I think she will be shocked/amazed that her daughter snagged a Bridgerton-and already thinking of the benefits (and plotting next moves), but also has a moment to think back on all the suspicious moments between them that she walked in on where it all just clicks!💡

PHILIPPA *shocked; later annoyed at any family gathering that she's not ½ of the only couple, and secretly jealous about how well they work

PRUDENCE *shocked and loud as hell; Portia will know immediately after she steps foot in whatever room, unless blackmail is involved

KATE *apologizes immediately; startled and unsure if she should excuse herself or take a page from Anthony to her new brother-in-law; her Anthony-like scolding turns to coy smiles and knowing looks in group settings that she walked in on the later engaged couple, that some others are completely unaware to

VIOLET *mortified (on both her end and Colin's) -> turns to reprimanding and lecturing

(+) for more fun >

SIMON *a cross between startlement and a chuckle; he lets out his laugh/smile before the door is even fully halted from opening

DAPHNE *she would be startled and surprised; would scold Colin for compromising Penelope and give him a reminder about judgment and if they were to be found out before marriage; also a heart to heart about love, because she would be the one he'd be able to open up to

non-family:

WILL *laughing all the way back to the boxing ring until he gives his genuine joy that Colin has found his own wife

MADAME DELACROIX *wide-eyed in shock, but then somehow a knowing look that all the while conveys a thought that says "of course"

LADY DANBURY *knew

[pentopaper23]

One-shots about Anthony attending school events for his siblings.

CHAPTER ONE: Benedict - Chopin’s - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor

2003

Late was something that Anthony hated being, but here he was running down a school hallway with Hyacinth on one arm and Gregory resting on his opposite hip. Daphne and Eloise were running beside him, and Colin had Francesca tucked under his arm. Not one of them was fully dressed, Hyacinth had lost her baby socks somewhere in the carpark, Colins was in half of his school uniform; shirt untucked and tie missing, Daphne and Fran were still in their school uniforms and Gregory was in some kind of children’s dress up costume. Anthony himself was still in what the children called his ‘work clothes’, a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that he should have changed before rushing out the door this afternoon and he had a baby bag slung over his shoulder.

They had been late leaving Kent after lunch to make it to Benedict’s piano recital on time at Eton. Anthony has business in London and meetings with his lawyers, so he decided to pull the children out of school and make a weekend of it. Between finishing his morning work, picking up the girls and readying the babies they left Kent at the unacceptable time of 4:30pm for Benedict’s performance at 6pm.

Cutting it fine was an understatement when Colin met them in the carpark at 5:40, underdressed for a boy who lived where they were visiting.

“I see you dressed up,” Anthony had snipped as he struggled to open the buckle of Gregory’s car seat.

“It’s after hours,” Colin has replied moving around to help the other children out of the car.

Using his fading memory of the school lay out Anthony rushed through the semi familiar halls of Eton Collage his sibling trailing after him like ducklings. He checked his watch when the concert hall doors come into view, 5:50pm. Swinging the doors open with a bang several heads turned to look at him with disapproving eyes, but the looks faded when they saw it was the Viscount and his family. Quickly they moved down the middle aisle under the watchful eyes of the parents and families and settled into their seats in the front row. Colin said he would be right back and would let Benedict know they where here and he slipped away though some curtains to the back of the stage. Anthony got the children settled, Daphne and Fran were happily chatting and El was flicking through a program that he hadn’t realised she had grabbed on the way in. Hyacinth was contently resting her little head against his shoulder and Gregory was sitting on his lap looking around the grand room excitedly.

“Ben!” El yelled waving her hands towards the stage, the siblings all looked in the direction that she was waving and saw Colin and Benedict sticking their heads around wings of the stage. They both gave a small wave and Anthony smiled at his brother. With a pat on Benedict’s shoulder Colin disappeared from view and emerged back out on the side of the stage and walked back to his seat. He reached out his arms for Gregory who Anthony was struggling to keep a hold off ever since the little boy had seen Benedict.

“Pass the devil here” he said gesturing to his baby brother. With practiced movements the siblings passed the toddler down the line and Daphne handed him to Colin who placed him on his lap facing the stage.

“Which one did he pick El,” Anthony asked nodding at the program she was still reading. Eloise squinted at the page and soundless sounded out the letters before speaking.

“Chopin - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor” El said showing the program to Anthony who sighed in relief. For the last few weeks, he had been gifted late night calls from Benedict in various states of panic over his choice of song. Each one he had played over the phone has been note perfect but nothing he had said had seemed to calm the boy.

The lights of the hall flicker announcing the start of the concert and several people rushed to their seats before the MC graced the stage.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My Lord,” he said bowing to Anthony when he noticed him sitting the in the front row. Anthony simply nodded his head in acknowledgement and moved Hyacinth, who had fallen asleep to his other shoulder.

“I am very happy to welcome you to Eton College’s Music and Drama department’s exhibition night. We have a full night planned for this evening so please if I could drag your attention to the stage, please welcome grade 4 music class with a “Ba Ba Black sheep” played on the recorder”. A small group of boys were ushered onto the stage by a male teacher and what came next was 10mins of pure hell. Not one of them poor lads played a note in time or on key and many of the parents surrounding him were trying and mostly failing to hide their smiles and laughs. To his siblings credit not one of them broke and he put it down to all of them being used to each other bad singing or failed hobbies that nothing relating to lack of musical talent shocked them anymore. Over the next three hours Anthony excused himself a few times to change Hyacinth and Gregory and each time he felt the stares of the other parents.

He was not the only man of nobility to have children enrolled in the school, far from it really. There are children of barons, other viscounts, a duke or two and not the mention the crown prince that has just started in Colin’s year. But he was one of the very few that rarely missed a school event; sports days, music events like tonight, parent teacher conferences and a smattering of other events that parents would normally attend. Whispers still followed him whenever he attended an event in place of his parents.

“Did you hear? Yes, both of them now, such a sad future for them.”

“I hear he is struggling. My husband does business with the estate, and he is pushing meeting left right and centre. I give it a year.”

He had gotten good at ignoring the voices and concentrating on his siblings and the little smiles and waves that were gifted to him when they noticed him sitting the crowd at their events.

He kept an eagle ear on the program in El’s and could see that Benedict was one of the last to preform that night. The MC introduced a 10th grader that recited a Shakespeare sonnet that would rival any that were being preformed at the National theatre and a boy that played the classical guitar effortless with fingers flying over the strings. Anthony was glad when Benedict was called to the stage, Hyacinth and the other younger siblings were starting to get restless having been seated for almost three hours and he could feel a tantrum coming from Eloise after he told her that no she couldn’t go and find the library.

“Please give a round of applause for Mr Benedict Bridgerton, who will be preforming Chopin’s  - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor,” the MC said and Benedict walked somewhat shyly onto the stage his eyes searching the darkness for his family. When his eyes locked with Anthony he smiled and gave a small wave and Anthony locked away the memory with the others his siblings had gifted him. Anthony’s nerves kicked in when Benedict sat down at the piano. He always felt like this when watching his siblings do something in public; not for him but for them, he wanted them to succeed in everything they did and watching them fail was heart-breaking to him. He held his breath as Benedict played the first few notes and he left it out when he saw that Benedict had gotten into the zone and his fingers were flying across the keys with learnt and practiced precision. The song came to a close and Benedict turned to the crowd and like they always did Anthony and his sibling jumped to their feet clapping and cheering. Anthony who was still holding Hyacinth and couldn’t clap put his fingers between his lips and let out a loud wolf whistle not caring if it drew disapproving looks from some of the other people around him. His siblings on the other hand were loudly cheering and clapping; Colin had raised Gregory in the air and the toddler was clapping with all his little might. Benedict looked a little embarrassed but took a bow and shook his head at his family antics and left the stage.

“He’s gonna hate us” Colin laughed in a sing song voice trying to wrangle a now over excited Gregory back into his lap and Anthony laughed, he probably would, but the next event they attend he would get pay back on his siblings.

Slowly the night came to a close and the MC thanked everyone for attending and people started to exit the hall. Several people came up and spoke to Anthony about business, these he brushed off and told them to call the Estate in the coming week and several more passed on their praise for Ben’s performance and cooed at Hyacinth who stared back at them with wide eyes and a gummy smile.

“Wait a second girls!” Anthony yelled to his sisters who made to run towards large crowd that was streaming towards the exit, “We need to collect Benedict for the weekend. Here Daph take Hyacinth, I need to run backstage. Colin you’re in charge.” He said before ducking through the curtains and backstage.

He spotted Benedict talking with some of his friends and noticed how happy the young boy looked when he threw his head back and laugh along with the other boys. He had grown in the last year and was resembling their father more then every before. His long chestnut hair was falling into his eyes, and he brushed it away. It was this action that reminded Anthony that he needs to have it cut over the coming break and filed it away in his mental calendar.

“My Lord?” A voice said from behind him, and he turned to find Benedict’s music teacher Mr James standing here. Anthony reached his hand out to shake the mans.

“Mr James, pleasure. He was good tonight.” Anthony said looking back at Benedict who was yet to notice him and was still laughing and fooling around with his friends.

“He is very gifted, one of my best. I was actually hoping we could talk about something.” Mr James said nodding his head to a quite corner.

“Of course, is there something wrong with his work?” Anthony asked trying to remember if he had received any mail or calls about Benedict in the last few months.

“Nothing of the sort, as I said he is one of my best students. It regarding to an advanced music course taking place in Paris over the summer break and I was hoping that Benedict would be interested in taking part. I mentioned it to him, but he seemed apprehensive about travelling and mentioned that he would be needed at home. I understand my Lord that this last year has been difficult, but I really feel that it would be very beneficial for him.” Mr James said trying to be as sensitive at possible.

“Um…of course. I will speak to him about it thank you for bringing it to my attention.” Anthony said looking back over at Benedict who was no looking at them with worry on his face. Mr James nodded and left to speak to some other parents and Benedict walked over looking more worried than before.

“What did Mr James want?” Benedict asked before Anthony was even able to greet him.

“We’ll talk about it later. You did so well!” Anthony said pulling Benedict into a deep tight hug. Benedict returned it burying his face into his brother’s chest and taking a deep breath.

“I missed a couple of notes in the middle,” He mumbled into his brother’s shirt causing Anthony to tighten his hold on him. “I was perfect Ben, no one but you noticed.” Anthony said pushing Benedict away so that he could look at the young boy, “I promise.” Benedict nodded and gave Anthony another hug.

“I need to get back out there I left Colin in charge of the troops. I fear he will be overrun if I leave them for too long. Have you packed your bag for the weekend?” Anthony asked fixing the collar of Benedict’s dress shirt. Benedict nodded, “Yep, I just need to go and change, and I will meet you at the car. I’ll be ten minutes.” He said before running off towards the dorms.

Colin was indeed overrun by the time Anthony got back to the main hall; Gregory was hanging off his pant leg while he balanced Hyacinth in one arm while holding the back of Eloise's jumper to stop her from running away.

Anthony scooped up Gregory and placed him on his hip, picked up the baby bag and hung it over his shoulder, “All good? Where are Daph and Fran?” he asked Colin looking around for their missing sisters. “They ran to the bathroom. It’s just outside the door I told them to wait for us there” he replied letting go of Eliseo’s jumper and taking her hand. They were stopped several times by parents remarking on Benedict’s performance and only made there escape when Hyacinth started to fuss, “It’s well passed her bedtime” Anthony had joked when one mothers looked at him with a hint of pity in her eyes. Daphne and Francesca where right where Colin said they would be, waiting by the woman’s bathroom door playing a hand clap game and laughing to each other.

“Take Greg’s hand Daphne please,’ Anthony said passing the little boy over his sister. With his extra free hand, he was able to open and search through the baby bag for the insulated bag that held Hyacinth’s warm bottles of milk. Walking and feeding had become a necessary skill he had perfected in the last year, and he was please to say he could balance Hyacinth, feed her, talk on the phone and pace the study if he needed to.

Benedict, like his sisters, was also where he said he would be. He was leaning against the car in a fresh set of clothes with an overnight bag at his feet. He smiled and squatted down as Gregory took off towards him as fast as his little legs could carry him, their sisters rushing after him. Anthony would have yelled out, “Don’t run in a carpark!” if he felt it would do anything. Benedict was bowled over by his siblings and they all tumbled to the ground in sounds of happy laugher. “My little menaces!” Anthony heard his brother shout from under the pile of little limbs on top of him.

“All right! Get off the ground and in the car please!” Anthony shouted as he gently pulled the bottle away from Hyacinth’s lips and burped her before placing her in the car seat and buckling her in tight and safe; he tucked the baby bag under the front seat making sure it wouldn’t move but was still within reach if it was needed. Benedict had climbed in and was in the process of trying to buckle in Gregory who seemed to have turned to a snake and was fighting his way back out of the car. With quick thinking Anthony shut the back door trapping the little by inside, at least he couldn’t escape he thought to himself as he heard the little boys angry yells from inside the car and saw his little face looking at him from the window as if expecting him to save him from Benedict. He went around to the back of the car where is sisters were waiting patiently and helped them all climb into the third row

The car ride to London was quiet, Gregory and Hyacinth had fallen asleep almost instantly in the middle row with Benedict dosing in-between them. After his mother died Anthony had attended some parenting classes with Hyacinth and was forever traumatised by stories about baby car seats being stuck in the third row after accidents. Even since then one of the older boys was always seated in the middle row with the babies and Fran, Daphne and El were exiled to the third row, where they were now sitting quietly with the light on reading and finishing homework. Colin was sitting next to him in the front with a journal resting on his lap as she wrote quickly across the pages. What had started as a grief journal that a child counsellor had recommend after the death of their parents has turned into a daily release for the young boy and Colin was routinely asking for extra money for stationary and new journals when he filled his old one. Anthony never asked what the boy was writing in them but from the drivers he could glance over and catch random words like he and his siblings names, things about school and London all written out in Colin’s annoyingly neat handwriting.

By the time they reached the outskirts of London, Anthony was the only one awake in the car, the radio had been turned down to a soft hum and he was contently steering the car through the familiar streets of his childhood. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was resting on the open window that was letting in cool summer air. The streets were empty, and the streetlamps were casting a soft orange glow over the landscape.

Turning the car into the tree lined Grosvenor Square the family Bridgerton House loomed at the end of the street. Still covered in purple wisteria the house looked untouched as if frozen in time. There were lights on inside indicating that the staff where still awake and waiting to greet the family. They hadn’t been here since the death of their parents; Anthony preferred the stay in a hotel that was close to his office if he ever needed to stay in London as the other children has shown little to no interest in visiting. So, it had stayed locked up, the gardens were kept in order and the inside looked over by the gardeners when they visited. But it was unlived in and empty. Until last week his parents’ bedroom was still untouched; their clothes still hanging in the wardrobe and shoes still tucked just inside their bedroom door. Family pictures had still hung on the walls, smiling faces looking back at all those who visited.

But not anymore, the pictures had been taken down and their parents room locked and sealed away. He wasn’t sure how his siblings would react to being back at the house and he was hoping that with less reminders of what had been, that it would be easier for them to settle in for the night. Staff from the estate had travelled in that morning to make ready the house, bedrooms had been aired out and bedsheets changed; the kitchen was reopened by their cook Mr Datson and Mrs Wilson had overseen the reopening and cleaning of the property.

Putting the car into park Anthony sat and stared at the house and took a deep breath. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and hastily wiped them before his siblings could wake up and see them. But he wasn’t quick enough and felt Benedict’s hand on his shoulder giving a comforting squeeze. He reached back and placed his hand over his brothers and gave it a tight squeeze back and mentally readied himself to leave the car.

[bellebridgerton]

Best Buddies: Chapter 2 (Modern Benedict Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

✨Last Chapter✨

Benedict woke up in the morning, he felt Y/n still in his arms. He looked at his left arm and noticed the black bandage, Benedict carefully lifted it off his arm to look at his new tattoo. It was beautiful, an old fashioned paint pallet, it looked like swatches of paint covered the pallet. He knew she was skilled, and he was proud to have her art on his body. Benedict gently stroked her hair, kissing her temple, he would stay in bed with her all day if he could.

Y/n shifted against Benedict and opened her eyes, "Good morning, Benny." She looked at his arm, gently touched around his new tattoo, "It suits you, full of color, expressive."

Benedict rubbed her lower back, "It's perfect, love." He pulled her closer, if that was possible, "What are your plans for today?"

Y/n rested her chin on his chest, "Not much, probably draw, read, bug you. What do you have planned?"

Benedict chuckled, "Well, I have to check my score for the exam, but other than that, I'm free today." He picked up his phone and checked his school email, opening the email about the exam. Benedict saw that he aced it, he leapt up from his bed and threw open the window, yelling, "YOU SHALL ALL BARE WITNESS TO MY TALENTS!"

Y/n sat up in bed, laughing, "You're such a dork, Benny!" She got up and gently pulled him back inside, "I'm so happy for you, but you need to relax a bit."

Benedict pulled her into his lap, "Thank you, love. What should we do to celebrate?"

Y/n gently played with his hair, "We could have a lazy day, whatever you want."

Benedict smiled, "That sounds great, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Surprise me!," Y/n stood up from his lap, "I'm going to take a shower." She walks to the master bathroom, swaying her hips.

Benedict couldn't tear his eyes away from her arse.

~

Slipping on her pajamas, Y/n was quick to leave her bedroom for Benedict's. She laughed and smacked at his hands playfully when he greedily pulled her into his bed.

Benedict sat up, "I want to cuddle. I missed you."

Y/n smiled wickedly, "I was only gone for like 30 minutes!"

He ignored her expression, "Don't care, I want to cuddle."

"Okay, okay, get comfy then," Y/n resigned herself to whatever Benedict wanted.

Benedict rested his head against Y/n's chest, he didn't let her be the big spoon very often, but he couldn't say no to being close to her. His eyes were heavy in relaxation as Y/n's fingertips gently raked over his scalp. If she truly knew how much he enjoyed her touch, he'd constantly be at her mercy, even more so than he already was.

Y/n wasn't watching the show Benedict had picked, her focus was more on him. They didn't get to have many moments like this. She loved his family, sometimes more than her own, but they were certainly nosey. Although, she'd like to think they wouldn't have been who they were without being in one another's business, at least a little bit.

Y/n soaked up all the alone time she could get with Benedict, getting lost in the feeling of his back shifting against her as he breathed, the small sounds he made that he didn't notice, but she did.

There was a knock at the door, he reluctantly got up and answered the door. His mother, Violet, was on the other side of the door.

Violet smiled, seeing her second eldest son and Y/n. Violet adored Y/n, she was like the fifth daughter Violet never had. Violet saw the love Y/n and Benedict shared, even if they can't see it. She hugged Y/n, "Hello, dearest!" Violet kissed Y/n's cheek, "I'm glad you're here, I have missed you."

Y/n blushed, hugging Violet back, "Hello, Violet! Awe, it's not even been a week since we last saw each other."

Violet looked at Y/n lovingly, "Dearest, you are practically my child, I miss you all the time."

Benedict watched from the living room and chuckled, "Hello, Mother. What brings you here?"

Violet moved her gaze to Benedict, "Can I not drop in on you? I am your mother, after all." Benedict raised his eyebrow at her, not that he minded her visit, he just could tell she was up to something. Violet sighed, "You caught me, dearest. We're having a very large party, and I want you two to attend. The party is this Saturday, it starts at 8 in the evening. It's very formal, there will be a lot of family as well. Also, it will last the whole weekend, so pack a bag!"

Benedict nodded and walked over to his mother, "Yeah, I'll be there." He didn't want to speak for Y/n, he'd made that mistake before and she put him in his place.

"I'd love to go, I'll likely arrive with Benny, as always," Y/n always tagged along with Benedict to family events, she loved his family and had ingrained herself in his life like no one else ever had.

Benedict looked at his mother, "Would you like some tea, Mum?"

Violet smiled, "That sounds lovely, dearest, but I must get going, much to do for the party! It was lovely to see you two, I will see you both soon!" She touched both Y/n and Benedict's cheeks at the same time, placed a kiss on Benedict's cheek, then kissed Y/n's cheek again.

Y/n kissed Violet's cheek in return, "See you soon!"

Benedict gave his mother a gentle hug and kissed her head, "Drive safe, Mum."

Violet hugged back, "I will." As she was walking out the front door, she called back, "Love you two!"

Y/n and Benedict called to her at the same time, "Love you too!"

Benedict closed the door behind his mother, turning to Y/n, "How about we get back to relaxing?"

"Yes!," Y/n ran back to Benedict's bedroom and leapt onto his bed, getting comfy. She patted the space between her legs, so Benedict could resume his previous position from before Violet arrived.

Benedict crawled back onto the bed and laid his head on Y/n's chest "You're comfy."

Y/n laughed, "I'm glad, I think."

Benedict laughed, "It's a compliment, love."

Y/n gently played with his hair while they watched Y/n's favorite show. She watched his eyelids grow heavy, holding back a laugh when he was fighting so hard to stay awake.

~

"Benny, hey, you fell asleep an hour ago, wake up," Y/n gently shook Benedict's shoulder, she couldn't get up with him sleeping on her.

Benedict groaned and opened his eyes a bit, "Why are you waking me up?"

Y/n softly poked his cheek with her fingertip, "I need to get up, and you're heavy."

He didn't move, "But I'm comfy here."

Y/n pushed him off of her as gently as possible, "I have to use the bathroom, Benny!" She ran to the bathroom.

Benedict chuckled, "Okay love, I want to cuddle when you get back."

After a couple minutes, Y/n walked back into his bedroom, laying down with Benedict, "My turn to be the little spoon."

Benedict grabbed her and moved her like she weighed nothing, bringing a squealing laugh out of Y/n. He pulled her close to his chest and gently traced shapes on her arm.

Y/n shifted in his hold, her face eventually buried in his chest, it was her turn to nap.

Benedict kissed her hair, feeling his eyes close.

He dreamed of a life with her, it wasn't much different than their current life, but he could was able to love her the way he wanted to.

~

Y/n woke up at midnight and buried her face in Benedict's chest. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep for a few hours.

Benedict rubbed her back, "Hey love, sleep well?"

Y/n looked up at him, "Yeah, did you?"

Benedict nodded and smiled softly, "I did. Today's been perfect." Y/n nodded, relaxing into his chest.

✨Next Chapter✨

Taglist: @coolepowersthings @khaylin27 @m-rae23

[favefandomimagines]

blue eyes crying in the rain (a.b)

Summary: your marriage with Anthony was a dream; until it all went slightly sour.

AN: I love a good angsty Anthony fic

When you first met Anthony Bridgerton, it was like time stopped. You had heard the rumors that he was not searching for a marriage built of love but a marriage built on duty. But everything changed when Daphne introduced her friend and her brother. It was as if you were the only people in the room.

Everyone else simply did not exist. He was charming, intelligent, he made you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

Anthony was enamored with you. You were the perfect woman physically but you were perfect just simply a person. You made him laugh, made him feel seen and loved. It was terrifying to him that one day the same fate that took his father would take you too.

But he could not care any less. The two of you wed at the end of June and everything was purse bliss. Until you returned from your honeymoon. It had not taken much for you to become with child and you were pregnant. Once you became pregnant, Anthony changed. He spent more and more time in his study or with his brothers.

You rarely saw him outside of going to bed and you felt isolated. You were going through this pregnancy alone. Had he regretted the marriage? Were you not desirable anymore now that you were with child? Too many intrusive thoughts clouded your brain and you had no one to talk to. You would rather not alert the rest of the family to the troubles that you and Anthony were facing. So you were handling that alone as well.

It was late one night, way past midnight by the time Anthony got home. Benedict was dragging him across the foyer of your home as you stood on the stairs in your robe.

“Y/N, what are you doing up? You shouldn’t be awake at this hour in your condition.” Benedict commented. “Well, I was waiting for my husband but that seemed futile two hours ago.” You replied. “My apologies, Y/N. I did not mean to keep him out so late.” Benedict replied.

“It was my idea, my darling Y/N. We had some business to attend to.” Anthony slurred. “You have been attending to business quite a bit.” You spoke. Both Bridgerton brothers could see that you were not pleased.

Benedict excused himself, giving you a smile before exiting the home. “Anthony, this has gotten out of hand.” You spoke. “What has?” He questioned. “You are gone all hours of the night, while I’m left alone.” You answered.

“It feels as though I'm facing this pregnancy alone. You're never here!” You added. “I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that.” Anthony replied. “Responsibilities? Is that what you call it? Neglecting your wife and child?” You rebutted. “I provide for you, don’t I? Is that not enough?” Anthony argued back.

“No, Anthony, it is not! I need you here, with me, not off attending to your clubs and politics!” You yelled. This was the first time you had raised your voice with Anthony. It was a side to you he had never seen before.

"Those clubs and politics secure our future, Y/N. You think I do this for fun?" Anthony said back. “When you are gone every night, yes I think you do it for fun. I think you've forgotten what's truly important. I'm carrying your child!" You said. "And I'm doing everything I can to ensure our child's future!" Anthony yelled back.

"What about our present? What about me? Do I not deserve your time?" You asked him. "I don't have time to argue about this." Anthony said, rather than answering.

He walked around you back up the stairs, walking away from you and the argument. "That's your answer to everything, isn't it? Avoidance!" You called after him. "I can't be with you every moment. You knew this when we married." Your husband said.

“I am aware of that Anthony, but I didn't expect to feel so alone in my own marriage." You replied, following after him.. “You’re being unfair.” Anthony said, stopping to turn to you. "I'm being honest! I need you, Anthony. Our child needs you." You told him, standing face to face with him. “I’m doing the best I can!” Anthony yelled.

There was a rage in his eyes that scared you. This was not the man you had married, this was a completely different person. Where did the love he had for you go? Where had the kind, gentle man go?

“Your best isn’t good enough. Not anymore. Every time I look at you, I see a stranger. Where did the man I married go?” You responded, sadness lacing your voice.

You both fell silent, standing in the hallway. You moved to walk around him back to your bed chambers. “I need some time alone, please.” You said. “Y/N, wait-” Anthony started. “No, Anthony. Just let me be.” You interrupted, this time not returning his gaze.

Anthony watched you walk away and close the door behind you. He cursed himself as he walked to his study. He hadn’t realized just how badly he was hurting you. His pride and ego prevented him from seeing it. He was raised better than how he was behaving and he was hurting his wife.

He wanted to fix it, he needed to fix it. But you had made abundantly clear that you needed space. But how much space?

XX

The next morning, you and Anthony didn’t speak a word to each other at breakfast. Anthony was urging to hear your voice but you were steadfast in remaining silent. He watched as you finished your breakfast and moved to stand from your seat.

A look of discomfort crossed your features as you stood. You grabbed your stomach as you continued to stand fully.

“Are you alright?” Anthony asked. Your lady’s maid came to your side to help you stand fully. “Thank you, Gloria.” You said to her kindly. You took your leave to the garden, Anthony watching you as you left.

“Gloria, keep a watchful eye on her.” He instructed the maid. “Yes, my lord.” Gloria responded, walking after you.

Later that afternoon, as you were in the sitting room, you felt that sharp pain in your stomach again. You moved quickly and placed your hand on your stomach again. But as the pain increased, you winced and soon your winces became groans of pain.

“My lady, what is the matter?” Gloria asked you. “I do not know. I-I have some pain in my stomach.” You answered. Gloria instructed the other maid to go fetch the Viscount as she stayed by your side.

“I don’t want to worry him.” You spoke. “But what if something is wrong?” Gloria questioned. You were about to reply when the pain increased and felt like a dagger to your stomach.

You let out an even louder groan of pain as Anthony rushed into the room. “Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling in front of you. “The pain started this morning and now it won’t stop.” You explained. “I-Is the baby coming?” He questioned. “No, this is different. Anthony, what if something’s wrong?” You replied.

Anthony looked at you for a moment, seeing your fear and your pain. “Call the doctor. Tell him it’s an emergency.” Anthony instructed his butler. “I-I don’t know what this could mean. What if I lose the baby?” You panicked.

“Y/N, look at me,” Anthony started. He grabbed her hands and you looked at him with watery eyes. “Our baby is going to be okay. You are going to be okay. I know I wasn’t here before but I am here now and I love you.” Your husband told you. “I love you too.” You replied.

When the doctor arrived, you were escorted to your chambers so you could be more comfortable while he was examining you. The doctor was quiet as he examined you, not saying much. That bothered Anthony. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Nothing to comfort you or reassure you that your baby was okay.

“The baby is alright, Lady Bridgerton. You experienced a rather normal part of pregnancy; contractions that don’t lead to labor. They are quite alarming, especially given that this is your first child, but the baby is okay.” He explained. “So she’s okay?” Anthony asked. “Yes. Both mother and child are healthy.” The doctor answered.

You let out a subtle sigh of relief as you rested your head against the bed frame. At the door, the butler escorted the doctor out and Anthony turned to look at you.The adrenaline from the fear he felt had finally worn off and now he was just terrified.

Anthony moved to sit next to you on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. “I have been an awful husband.” He spoke. “Anthony,” You sighed.

“I have heard the risks of childbirth. Women die while birthing a child and I do not think I’ve ever been more terrified than I was at this moment. I thought I would lose you and our child. I caught a glimpse into what my mother felt when she lost my father and I never want to feel that. I’ve been wasting precious time with you just because I was scared.” Anthony continued.

You finally understood why he had distanced himself since you fell pregnant. He was afraid he was going to lose you during childbirth. You wished he would have come to you with his fears rather than pushing you away when you needed him most.

“Anthony, I do not plan on going anywhere. I wish you would have just told me what you were feeling. It’s alright to be vulnerable, especially with me. It doesn’t make you less of a man.” You finally said.

“I know that now. And I am so sorry for neglecting you the way I did. You needed me and I wasn’t there.” Anthony said. “I forgive you.” You told him.

Anthony looked at you with disbelief, fully convinced you wouldn’t forgive him for his behavior.

“I love you, Anthony. We have to forgive the ones we love for their mistakes. Besides, if the stress of being mad at you is what caused my condition, I’d rather not go through it again.” You teased.

Anthony gave you a tearful laugh before kissing you deeply.

Two months later, you welcome a healthy baby boy into the world. And he has his father wrapped around his finger.

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 13: "Sans toi"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: When you arrive in London, there is a soirée dedicated to your return. Clearly, the hate you expected to get from your loved ones wasn't what you received.

Word count: 2.3K

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❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Benedict knew he had lost you when he saw you walk through the door of your bedchambers in the Carrington Mansion, but it wasn't until a week later that he realized that his life without you had just begun.

After having had all of you, what was he supposed to do without you?

Firstly, his brothers tried to convince him that it was not worth it and that he could find a woman like you anywhere. They did not believe in their own words, especially Anthony, who couldn't conceive the possibility of finding another Kate anywhere in the world.

He recently saw Colin falling in love with Penelope. Or realizing of the fact, for that matter, and everything was harder for him.

Benedict tried hard to take refuge in pairs of arms so he could never see himself without you anymore.

Two years passed, 63,072,000 seconds, and you were in his thoughts every single and each one of them.

Two years have passed and inconvenient mothers would not leave him alone, plus, the life of a bachelor got more complicated each day, so he simply started looking for a wife until he stumbled upon the only woman in Europe that did not share a single similarly with you.

And that was who he kept: Miss Hayley Prince.

She was not an easy woman in all honesty, but he had learned to ignore it.

"Are you alright?"

Eloise sighed nervously. "Indeed I am, Brother. Why the question?"

"You seem restless," Benedict commented. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course it is!" She nodded.

He frowned, not believing his sister but decided to let her be.

Clearly, Eloise was not alright. Her nervousness had a motive and the motive was you: she had written you a letter, urging you to come back to London to save her most favorite brother from falling from grace.

"I found it!" a voice yelled, rushing steps invading the sitting room where Benedict had planned to read peacefully but wasn't allowed to by the intrusions. "It is in French, I hear it is one of the first copies."

"Come, Pen!" Eloise urged her best friend, taking her hand in hers and running to her bedchambers.

Benedict was still curious, but said nothing as he was finally alone. He would find out one way or another anyway.

That very same afternoon you had left your Grandfather alone in the sitting room and taken your leave to the Château de Germolles to talk to your cousin.

Regardless of everything that had happened between you, Claude was still the one responsible for everything until your heir was born, and his ignorance of the latter thing was an advantage you could use in your favor when you convinced him to send news that your bastard brother was a criminal that belonged in a dungeon.

The man was given no other choice but to escape and you were given no other choice but to pack your prettiest dresses, finest jewels, all your money, most expensive and useless assets, and make your way to London the next morning.

"My, my, Lady Y/N, I was certainly not expecting you so soon!" Lady Danbury received you with a knowing smile.

"I am thankful you received me, my Lady," You smiled. "And Eloise's letter had a great connotation of urgency."

She nodded, guiding you inside her home. "All of us have been eager to reunite with you."

"All of you?" You swallowed with difficulty, fearing for the answer. "After what happened?"

"Oh, my dear…" She shook her head. "We do not blame you at all. I think it takes great courage to do what you did, to fool these ignorant men… You did what you had to do and we admire you for it."

You frowned. "I- I thought everyone hated me."

"No one of worth does," Lady Danbury winked. "I have organized a soirée for the ladies tonight. Now it seems like we have a motive for it!"

"Is there any way I can help organize it?"

"It is all settled," she replied. "You can help by having some rest after such a long way."

You curved your lips. "Will do, my Lady."

One of her maids took you to your bedchambers, where you indeed changed your dress for something more comfortable and fell asleep as you were incredibly exhausted.

Later, the very same maid woke you up from your nap.

"There is a bath prepared for you, my Lady," she announced. "Your maid helped us make it the way you prefer it."

"Thank you." You smiled and stood up.

An hour later, you were walking down the stairs with a sky blue and silver sequined dress and your long hair neatly styled.

Many reactions received you: judgemental looks, envying stares, and admiring smiles. You were used to them all.

The first to greet you was Daphne Bridgerton, complimenting your dress and promising that her family would be all glad to see you again. Then, Lady Featherington, promising to never have believed the words of Whistledown. Many ladies whose faces you could not recognize gave you fake smiles, but then you saw the lady you feared to encounter the most: Violet Bridgerton.

You believed she would hate you. In her family, both Benedict and Eloise knew that the secret that was exposed by Lady Whistledown was true, but you weren't sure how aware of that she was.

However, when her motherly smile greeted you before her voice did, you concluded that whether she knew or not, she did not care.

"Oh, my dear… Only if you knew how glad I am to see you again."

You smiled with nostalgia in your eyes, and gave her a tight hug. It was inevitable, then, to say "I am so sorry for what I did."

"No," She shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But your son-"

She looked at you with her lips pursed. "My son has missed you terribly."

"Has he really?" you asked. "Eloise sent-"

"Forgive me for the intrusion," The unknown woman interrupted your conversation with Violet Bridgerton with a polite smile. "Lady Bridgerton, before I forget, my parents wanted to invite you and Benedict for dinner tomorrow night."

Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of his.

"I will discuss it with my son first and-"

"Oh, no, I already spoke with him. He agreed."

Lady Bridgerton nodded. "Uh, silly me… Y/N, this is Miss Hayley Prince. Miss Prince, this is Lady Y/N of Burgundy."

"Oh, it is a pleasure to meet you!" she exclaimed.

You didn't know her a bit, but you hated her. Did you have a valid reason to? Yes. Do you need a reason to dislike someone? No. But in this case, you did have a reason and you were allowed to dislike her.

You made an annoyed smile hidden behind a look of kindness. "Nice to meet you." you said, bitterness poisoning your voice.

She smiled, catching your disgust but not saying a word.

"Lady Danbury is calling me, if you'll excuse me."

Followed by their gazes you left the room, angry steps breaking the silence of the hallways.

"Hiding from something?"

"Miss Bridgerton, you were the one to summon me here," you noted with a forced smile, trying to conceal how upset you were after seeing her. "What could I possibly be hiding from if I am supposed to have come to face a thing or two?"

"Have you met her?" she asked in an unfazed way.

"She just came to interrupt my conversation with your Mama to show off that she and Benedict had talked about having dinner with her, God!" you complained. "I believed I had already faced the punishment for my actions, but it seems like they never end!"

Eloise smirked. "I must be there when my brother sees you again after two years. He will be taken aback by your return."

"He better be."

"We are all going for a promenade tomorrow morning, Mama said," she commented. "I will make sure for her to invite Lady Danbury."

"Is she going to be there?" you questioned.

"No." Eloise answered.

"Your Mama said that Benedict has missed me terribly," You looked at the ceiling, feeling homesick at the dearth of art. You miss your home, if you are being honest, but sometimes missing a person is much more powerful. "Was she truthful?"

She gave you a knowing stare. "You would be surprised, my dearest friend."

You laughed slightly. "So? When is the next big event?"

"The Queen's Ball next week."

"I will meet you there," you promised with a nod. "Why do we dislike Miss Prince?"

Eloise gasped. "She is the cousin of Cressida Cowper! She is just like her… she has shared quite the repertoire of opinions on how I should fill the standards of a fine lady and she made fun of Pen."

"Oh, my Lord… Does your brother know?"

"No, but all of us dislike her for our own motives:" she noted. "Anthony finds her quite annoying, though he is a huge hater either way. She said to Colin that it was negligent and irresponsible to travel abroad. She flirted with Simon, so that's in for him and Daphne, and Kate overheard her talking about me. She also has very controversial opinions on gender roles."

"How so?"

"Well, it seems like she thinks that us women are better off living under the men's mandate."

You frowned. "God forbid she ever longs to go to university, travels for days and impersonates a fictional brother to do so, gets brutally exposed by Lady Whistledown and has her Grandfather force her to live under his command and hateful speech."

"Cheers to that." she mused.

Eloise and you kept chit-chatting for a few minutes and later returned to the soirée.

You and Eloise walked to the table where Violet Bridgerton, Lady Danbury, Daphne Basset, Kate Bridgerton and Hayley Prince were sitting.

"It's great to see you again, my Lady." Kate smiled.

"Call me Y/N," You wrinkled your nose. "No need for titles between friends, I suppose."

"You are right." Daphne smiled.

"How is little Auggie, Daphne?" you asked her with a smile.

"Oh, he has grown so much! He looks like a replica of Simon."

"I can only imagine! He is the most handsome baby I have ever seen."

Miss Prince chimed in. "Do you know Auggie, Y/N?"

You frowned in discontent at her calling you by your name, but let your face do the talking instead of you. "He even poured tea in my dress, we were best friends for a day."

"Auggie has never been one to get on well with people he hasn't seen before, or some people at all. A very selective child," the Duchess commented. "However, he adored Y/N from the moment he first saw her."

"A common reaction from the Bridgerton boys." Lady Danbury commented, making you, Daphne, Kate and Violet suppress a laugh Eloise couldn't.

"Benedict most of all." the younger Bridgerton noted. "He will be ecstatic to see her, will he not?"

"I am certain he will." Kate went with it.

"You should come to dinner tomorrow!" Eloise exclaimed with a knowing smirk. "It must be tomorrow night as it is the last day the whole family will be here since Simon and Daphne are leaving for Hastings!"

"Oh, are you leaving, Daphne?"

The redhead nodded. "Unfortunately, Y/N. Simon has duties to fulfill at home, as I know you very well understand. Tomorrow is indeed the last night of us all together, so it would be perfect for dinner."

"Uh, but my dinner is tomorrow. Benedict will formally introduce himself to my family." Hayley interjected.

"That is right," Lady Bridgerton said. "But perhaps your parents can make an exception, can they not, dear? Y/N's arrival after two years is a very important event for the Bridgertons and we would really like to celebrate it with our family."

"It is alright, then, my Lady." She nodded.

"Y/N, I have started reading your book!" Eloise gushed. "Pen found it, it is one of the first copies published. It is in French, so I have been translating it."

You let out a nervous chuckle. "One of the first copies, you said?"

"Yes! It has a very interesting main character."

"Can you lend it to me once you have finished?" Kate wondered.

"Of course, dear Sister in law," she agreed. "I am certain Benedict will like it also."

"No!" you yelled, catching everyone's attention. You showed a sheepish look. "I mean, no… Uh, he- he will not like it, I am sure. It is… not the type of book he likes."

"Dear, are you joking?" Lady Danbury questioned. "I have been made aware that he is quite an art and literature enthusiast. Your book is full of beautifully written poetry, I am sure he will like it."

You forced a smile. "Perhaps I should help you finish translating it, El…"

"Benedict speaks French very well, I assume he will not have an issue with it."

"It is always more comfortable to read something in your mother tongue, Eloise… I should know!" you lied. Clearly, you have always preferred reading books in their original language, but that they don't know. "Have you ever read Marília de Dirceu? It is nicer in French than Portuguese."

Of course it is not. You have always felt that its beauty is in its language, but that they didn't know.

"Perhaps you are right," Lady Bridgerton said. "After all, you are the polyglot here."

You smiled widely. "I am, yes."

"On the other hand, I prefer Indian books in Bengali and English books in English," Kate smirked, catching on to Eloise's intentions. "It should be up to Benedict to decide, right? He could read the original and what Eloise has translated and make his verdict."

"Or is it something he shouldn't see?"

You stood up. "Excuse me, I am dead tired!" you babbled and left in a hurry.

"I am confused." Miss Prince mentioned.

"Aren't we all?" Lady Bridgerton rolled her eyes.

"It is an inside joke, Mama," Eloise replied. "Not a thing to worry about."

Kate took a sip of her wine. "Not a thing indeed."

taglist: @yentroucnagol @crimsonincursive @czarinera

[silverhallow]

Could I request a scene between Sophie and Fran after the ball where Fran declares herself back on the marriage mart?

Both Sophie and Fran both has second chance romances. I imagine Sophie could offer Fran some reassurance.

A Sister's Understanding

Sophie was a little worried about her sister in law, she’d not out and out said that she was back on the market and looking for a husband but the change in her clothing and their assumption that she was looking for a husband again had Sophie wondering if Francesca was truly ready.

She’d known how much John and Francesca had loved one another and saw the devastation that had rocked her when she’d miscarried their baby, her one last connection to John and Sophie had known it had been the reason she’d taken so long to come out of mourning.

It hadn’t just been John she was mourning but the loss of her child. It hadn’t helped that the Earl of Kilmartin had took off shortly after and left Francesca to deal with everything in the estate and whilst she was quite the most accomplished of her siblings and the most sensible, Sophie knew it would have taken it’s toll on her the younger woman and vowed she would try and speak to her.

So the morning after the ball, Sophie left her husband in his art studio, her boys where with Kate’s hellions in the nursery and she took the short walk from Bridgerton House to Stirling House.

She knew Francesca wasn’t expecting her and it was too early for any potential suitors to be there and whilst she knew Michael was back, everything she’d heard about the Earl, suggested there was no way on earth he would be awake just yet.

The butler let her in and showed her into the music room, which was not a surprise to Sophie in the slightest to find her sister-in-law there, the piano had always been her escape, like Eloise’s had been books, Benedict’s his art, Francesca found peace in her music.

“Sophie!” she smiled warmly as Sophie was shown into the room “I wasn’t expecting you today was i?” Francesca asked as she closed the lid to her pianoforte.

“No, but I wanted to come and check on you after last night. Kate and Anthony rather ambushed you about your return to the marriage mart and I wanted to apologise a little as I feel I rather forced you to go speak to Michael in public” Sophie said

“Oh, no you were quite right, it would have been everywhere today if I’d not spoken to him in public, never mind that we are in the same residence but I know Kate meant well but Anthony…” Francesca sighed

“I am sure you could have done without his bullish yell across the ballroom and him asking you loudly if you intended to find a new husband…” Sophie said “I had rather hoped that perhaps over 10 years of marriage would have made him a little calmer but alas…”

“No and Benedict didn’t help by nearly choking on his drink” Francesca sighed as she walked towards the little chaiselong and gestured for Sophie to take a seat.

“Subtly is not a Bridgerton male’s speciality I am afraid” Sophie said “even Colin…”

“What did Colin do? I barely saw him all evening”

“I… well… I think I saw him saying something to a few of his friends saying you were back on the market” Sophie said, knowing it was fruitless to not tell her

Francesca groaned “Wonderful, so I am going to have men sniffing around me and calling upon me all day”

“I am sure if you ask Michael he will help ward them off, as will Anthony… but it does bring me to the main reason I called around… i wanted to make sure you were ready, that you truly are ready to reenter the market?” Sophie said, leaning over and placing a hand on hers.

“Sophie, in all honesty, I am not sure if I ever will be. I don’t expect another love match, I… I want a family. I see you, Kate and even Daphne with your children and I want it so badly… I just… If…”

“I know” Sophie said, she didn’t need Francesca to say it, she knew that if Francesca had not lost hers and John’s baby, she wouldn’t be considering remarrying. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you looked so terrified last night, and then Anthony made it worse”

Francesca sighed “I know, i am not… thrilled to be the centre of attention again and i know it will likely be the case. I know Hyacinth and Eloise are still on the market but neither are showing any interest in marriage. Eloise is classed as on the shelf, I am nearly seven and twenty so i am not exactly a sparkling debutante but as a widow… and my connection to both the Kilmartins and Bridgerton’s… I’ve had enough men making lurid comments at me as a widow…”

“What?” Sophie said outraged

“Oh it’s nothing, it was just some young buck trying his luck…”

“You should tell your brothers…”

Francesca scoffed “Trust me, he won’t be making another pass at me… I am a Bridgerton’s first and foremost…” she smirked devilishly

“What did you do?”

“Lets just say… growing with four brother’s you learn what the erm… soft spot is… and he won’t be trying to use it any time soon” Francesca grinned

“Good Girl” Sophie grinned brightly.

“I know, I just hope I can find someone suitable, someone I can be friends with, someone whose company I can enjoy… I don’t expect to find a love match but a friend would be good.” Francesca said softly.

“I can understand that, I think…” Sophie said

Francesca tilted her head to the side “Do you?”

“I think so, I love Ben with all my heart but I love our boys, our family… it’s everything I ever wanted and for so long I never thought i’d get either but if the world had been cruel and robbed me off him before we had a family… I should think if I ever was to reenter, I know in my heart i’d never find another I'd love like him but a friend… that was all I could hope for. Someone kind, who would not treat me ill, who would make a good father then I guess I would be content” Sophie explained.

Francesca nodded “I think it's the best I can hope for, but I am glad that you understand, that someone does. Eloise didn’t understand why I'd want to remarry, why I'd not enjoy the freedoms I have. And Anthony just lectured me about not telling him and Benedict… well he ended up distracted after he saw you dancing with Michael so left me alone and Colin spent most of the night either with Penelope or Michael”

Sophie laughed “Ben is easily distracted but you’re welcome. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and if you ever need a break or need someone to talk to, you know you can come visit us or write to me… I will never judge any of you, you know that”

Francesca smiled and squeezed Sophie’s hand “I know. I am lucky to have such a wonderful sister like you”

A couple of months later as she read the letter from Sophie telling her of the changes to Colin and Penelope’s wedding and that Eloise was to marry, she realised that Sophie was always the one to remember to write to her with family news. 

So it was why four days after she married Michael, Sophie, was the first Bridgerton she wrote to Sophie to say she’d married Michael and then again three weeks later when she realised that she loved him/

[andorianminingconsortium]

Review of The Wrath Of Khan

(as much spoiler free as I can be)

As you may know, I recently started watching all the old Star Trek movies for the first time. I started with First Contact, per friend's recommendation, then watched the Motion Picture and I'm now watching chronologically. That brings me to Wrath of Khan.

First things first, I really loved it! I think it's my favourite from the ones I've watched so far! The characters were cool! The movie-only characters were cool! They uniforms looked good! Everyone's hair looked good lol

I loved the character Saavik. The fact that this character exists in a movie made so long ago (lol) proves once again how progressive Star Trek is and is a great example of what I love about Star Trek. Also when Kirk is like "you have no problem with self expression" I screeched. That was such a line. Thank you for your support of gender expression, Admiral.

I thought Khan was very well played! (Poor Chekov, man...) Khan was so evil! Great! He had such a clear goal and mindset. Loved that they didn't water him down. Now that I saw the original movie Khan, I realised that Benedict Cumberbatch in the recent movies wasn't just putting up a "slightly weird but cool villain voice". He was mimicking the way the original Khan spoke! And he did it really well! I'm impressed. The almost whispering, drawn out sillables, teeth-clenched talking. Especially Cumberbatch' iconic "I'll walk over your cold corpses" sound so much like the original Khan in my opinion! I just thought it was really neat!

I also liked the parallels between the old and new movie such as Scotty yelling "you'll flood the whole compartment!" In both movies. Great eye for detail from the makers of the new movie!

What really stuck with me was when one of the crewmates died and Scotty came carrying him in and was like "he's the only who stayed at his post" and then the crewmate, with bloody hand, touched the one white part of Kirk's uniform and left a handprint that remained for the next few scenes. That was so good! Such a chilling detail! Beautiful!

I might have forgotten something but these were the things that stuck with me most! I enjoyed it and I might watch it again after I've watched all the other movies.

My ranking so far:

Wrath of Khan - Motion Picture - First Contact

I have also just watched Search for Spock! Will review later :)

Thank you for reading!

[strained-cranberries]

Benedict's Cumbersecret

Part 1: Cold coffee.

The day started like any other. After you'd finished smoothing out the wrinkles of your bed covers and propped your rectangular pillows on the headboard, you headed downstairs. Aunt Vivienne was waiting in the kitchen. She had long brown hair and grayish green eyes, the same ones you're mother had. You wouldn't remember though, she and you're father had died in a boating accident when you were 4. Aunt Vivi had raised you since then, showing you so many pictures and telling so many stories, it was almost like they were raising you, too.

"Why don't you fix yourself up? You remember what day it is, don't you?" Aunt Vivi said, looking you up and down in your white tee shirt, jeans, and hair tied messily up in a bun.

"WHAT?" You asked, suprised she would critique you before even saying "Good Morning".

"It's the 31st" She replied. Suddenly realization crossed your face. The 31st of each month was when you met with you're child hood friend, Benedict Cumberbatch.

Without saying another word, you ran back up stairs. You stepped into the marble covered bathroom and started out the large window, from you're high rise apartment, you were eye-level with the Big Ben. When it struck 12 you pulled closed the big maroon curtains and turned toward the golden framed mirror. You pulled your dirty brown hair out of the bun and put it up in pigtails. You thought the rest of your outfit was fine for meeting Ben. You had been friends since childhood, he was Vivi's ex-Husband's son. He had gotten into acting around 15 years ago and you hadn't seen him since he went to America to be Dr.Strange in the Marvel movies.

You couldn't say you liked what you saw in the mirror. You were born with a disease called Alexandria's Genesis, it gave you bright purple eyes and ghostly pale skin. The only good part of it was, you didn't have any body hair on your arms and legs.

You grabbed your bag from you're desk in you're room and yelled "Goodbye!" before running out of the apartment. You ran all the to the coffee shop a few blocks down where you and Ben always met. The white sign on the door said "Pret". You ordered you're usual from the barista, a chai latte. You sat down at a table near the entrance and waited for Benedict to walk in.

What felt like years passed by. You checked you're phone and it had been 3 hours. You're phone was beginning to die. You were about to leave when you saw the barista freeze in terror. She pointed a finger towards the door and yelled. "I-I-IT'S SLENDERMAN" you turned around and saw Ben. He was so pale you almost thought he had Alexandria's himself. His piercing blue eyes and messy brown hair made you're heart skip a beat.

"Took you long enough" you said, "My coffees cold"