#bridgerton series rewatch

[abitcaughtinthemiddle]

Bridgerton Parallels & Secrets

I’m doing a full series Bridgerton rewatch and I’ve discovered another season 1 parallel in season 3 that I have not seen talked about online.

In S1 E7, Daphne comes home after Marina’s pregnancy is revealed to support Colin and she takes him aside. She tells Colin that he should be lucky he learned of Marina’s secret before his wedding day (obviously this is about her marriage with Simon but it’s interesting how this comes back later).

Jump to season 3 and Colin learns of Penelope’s secret (her identity as Whistledown). And when does he learn of this? Before his wedding day.

In S3 E7, we see Kate offering marriage advice to Colin, saying that everyone has secrets. Here we get confirmation that Colin’s love for Penelope remains even through this conflict. He marries her the next day knowing her secret and accepting her still.

The difference this time with Colin is that his love for Penelope is true and deep, rather than a fleeting fancy. This secret Penelope held from him meant a great deal (due to his love of her and disdain for Whistledown) and yet he still chose to marry her.

And while Colin said he would have married Marina had he known of her pregnancy, the result would have been a loveless marriage and a strained relationship with his family due to their elopement.

Whereas, his marriage with Penelope would still be one of love (their confrontation the night before the wedding confirmed for Colin that Penelope believes she loves him) - regardless of their current conflict.

Furthermore, while Marina would have had Colin (or maybe not even told him) keep her secret, Penelope did have every intention of telling Colin about LW (before her conversation with Eloise in E6). And, once her secret was discovered, Penelope could not allow Colin to keep this secret from his family. Because she loves him.

Colin would have miserable having to keep such a big secret from his family and that is the biggest difference between Marina and Penelope: Marina would not have cared as much about Colin keeping a big Secret from his family but Penelope would. Because she also loves the Bridgertons.

[renegadesstuff]

Duke & Duchess of Hastings 🤍

[patovpran]

Can't wait for Colin to be his true self in pt 2 so people can finally understand him as a character

[somedayillbepeterpan]

On today's rewatch, this is the scene i'm stuck on:

This my favourite LW insult out of all the LW insults I've seen on this show so far.

and her writing this while feeling unwell? Pen has her priorities straight.

I researched what succubus meant and it is a diabolical insult. Adding in first water meaning of the first quality means that she's saying that Cressida is the evilest succubus demon to ever exist.

Succubus: a demon assuming female form to have sexual intercourse with men in their sleep

and saying all of that while looking this pretty.

They could never make me hate you, b**tchy Pen/LW. Such a shame that she never got to publish this issue

[wrongcarwhy]

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story, Episode 6: Crown Jewels, written by Shonda Rhimes

[lifewithaview]

Phoebe Dynevor in Bridgerton (2020) Oceans Apart

S1E7

Amid accusations of lies and betrayal, a rift forms between the newlyweds, while a deception of another kind could besmirch the Bridgerton family name.

*Every plot in this episode was invented for the show and did not occur in the book, aside from some similarities in Daphne and Simon's conversations about his father.

[cassmouse]

I am thinking about Reservation Dogs again- it continues to be the most incredible series I've ever seen with absolutely no exaggeration

To all my mutuals who didn't see how in pieces I was about the final season when it came out last year (and my absolute obsession with it): PLEASE go and check it out it is single handedly the most magnificent thing I've ever seen

[pollenallergie]

if, in between now and the filming of season four of bridgerton, shondaland could somehow come up with another bridgerton spinoff that hits the exact same way that queen charlotte did, i would be so fucking grateful.

[bluebonnet-witch]

how are we doing tonight Bridgerton fans

[eviesaurusrex]

I adore drugged Benedict xD

[abitcaughtinthemiddle]

So regarding my Bridgerton series rewatch…listen, I LOVE season 2, don’t get me wrong, but my Polin obsession and my season 3 addiction is making it hard for me to finish season 2 when I really just want to jump head-first into that sweet Polin yearning, my home.

[renegadesstuff]

Benedict & Eloise 🥰

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

benedict bridgerton x princess (poc) reader

prologue.

After a series of agonising years of begging her mother to be let out into society — as a commoner would, equally putting her as the diamond of the season, the queen has finally, yet hesitantly agreed. Though with a single condition;

Sponsor the upcoming season. SUCCESSFULLY.

It was proven to be a challenge when her faith was put into the hands of the eldest bridgerton, whom was stubborn beyond belief. And it was only with the help of the second eldest that the princess might accomplish her goal.

However, getting Anthony to be married seemed to be less of a struggle in comparison to the hardship soon to occur with Benedict. Whose eyes never seem to leave her own.

OVERALL WARNING. smut!! (and lots of implied sex & talk), age gap (almost 8 years), toxic family, mentions of mental health issues, classism, abuse of power, mean ish lady danbury (i had to okay), alcohol consumption, misogyny, miscommunication, slowwww burn.

GENRE. fluff, angst, smut. a slight Rapunzel retelling, set in season 2–3 with mentions of season 1.

AUTHORS NOTE. ahhh!! i’m so excited for this, i’ve had this idea since i rewatched season 2 of bridgerton and read a one shot on here about princess reader, and it has not left my mind since. it takes place in season 2 and will have snippets of season 3. please feel free to leave suggestions of what you’d like to see xx

also!! i’ll finish your requests in my inbox soon i promise, this’ll probs make me go back to wp lol

[thebluemallet]

What Colin Calls Penelope In Bridgerton

Between Part 1 and 2 of season 3, I made a post about wanting to see the numbers on what Colin calls Penelope throughout the show because I thought there was a significant increase in the use of "Penelope" over "Pen" as their relationship matured.

Well, I did a very quick rewatch of seasons 1 and 2 (basically fast-forwarding to the parts I knew Colin and Pen would either interact or Colin would mention Penelope) and a rewatch of season 3. AND I HAVE THE NUMBERS!

So here's a breakdown on what Colin calls Penelope through all three seasons of Bridgerton. I'll give the total as well as if it was said directly to Penelope or to other people.

(If someone wants to make a chart or something with all of this data, I would not hate that)

Pen

Season 1- 8 (directly)

Season 2- 10 (directly)

Season 3- 23 (directly); 1 (indirectly); 1 (unclear. He said it to Dream Penelope); 25 total.

Total number of times Colin has called Penelope "Pen"- 43

The rest is below the cut because this post got long!!

Miss Featherington

Season 1- 1 (indirectly)

Season 2- none

Season 3- 1 (directly); 2 (indirectly); 3 total

Total number of times Colin has called Penlope "Miss Featherington"- 4

Penelope

Season 1- 1 (directly)

Season 2- 1 (directly); 1 (indirectly); 1 (unclear. He was talking to Penelope but quoting himself--"I said to myself, 'If Penelope can see me this way...'"); 3 total

Season 3- 5 (directly); 22 (indirectly); 27 total

Total number of times Colin has called Penelope "Penelope"- 31

Miss Penelope

Season 2- 1 (indirectly)

Total number of times Colin has called Penelope "Miss Penelope"- 1

Penelope Featherington

Season 1- none

Season 2- 2 (indirectly)

Season 3- 3 (directly)

Total number of times Colin has called Penelope "Penelope Featherington"- 5

Auntie Penelope

Season 3- 1 (indirectly)

Total number of time Colin has called Penelope "Auntie Penelope"- 1

If I lumped "Miss Penelope," "Penelope Featherington," and "Auntie Penelope," into the same group with "Penelope," then Colin has called her Penelope a total of 38 times throughout the series. Which means "Pen" is still the winner.

And if any of you were curious, he called her "my bride-to-be" 1 time (directly), his "future wife" 2 times (directly and indirectly), "my wife" 2 times (both indirectly), and of course, as we all know, he called her "Mrs. Bridgerton" 1 time in the final episode.

[ladypen1796]

I have a hot take on Eloise and would love others thoughts!

Especially in season 3 and rewatching the entire series over the past few weeks I truly have come to not enjoy Eloise and she truly was someone I adored on my first watch as she thought outside the box for a early time period. Here are my reasons why I don't care for her.

- first off she never really listened to Pen until she realized she was Lady Whistledown. It took her actually hearing what pen was saying for her to realize who she truly was. IMO friends listen. There's a part in s2 episode early on, where pen makes a plant pun while Eloise is trying to make her run from possible suitors trying to dance with her and fetch her lemonade. Eloise totally ignores this and it's as if pen knows she's being ignored and then writes a plant pun on the next release in whistledown.

Now I'm not saying every friend is 100% invested into what the other is saying but this is an example of Eloise not listening to Pen.

-Second, everyone around Eloise even Colin is like am I seeding what I'm seeing? Is Eloise friends with Cressida? After the fall out of Eloise and pen I understand that she wasn't going to be talking to pen but did she have to go out of her way and go be friends with her ex friends bully? In my opinion this is not a girls girl thing to do and Eloise screams feminism.

-s1 Eloise was always saying men have it better off than woman. Which I still believe stands in this day and age, but that is nearly my opinion. However, I do think compared to not even just pen but also Cressida Eloise had the luxury of always having a supportive family and just a relatively easy life. (Yes I know she lost her father that is never easy. Which is something I can relate to) however, the support and wealth she has been able to have the opportunity to be a free thinker which in her time period was not something woman had the opportunity to do.

Also I'd like to say I'm not an Eloise hater and can't wait to see what they do with her. If they follow the books. I just love to open discussion because I have an unhealthy relationship with Bridgerton lol 😂 thanks for coming to my Ted talk. 💜

[alewritesfics]

Bridging Realities

ℑ. 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: slow burn, unedited, angst, eventual smut, playful banter, happy ending

You sighed, your eyes half-lidded as the familiar orchestral strains of Bridgerton filled her room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, the soft glow of the screen illuminating your face. There was nothing more comforting than watching the series you loved so much. Rewatching the third season once again

Personally, you enjoyed the second season so much more but then again, maybe it had to do with Anthony Bridgerton being the focus and not the other brothers.

Lady Whistledown’s narration sounded through the speakers, narrating the final words of the last episode, slowly turning into Penelope’s voice. You leaned back against your pillow, letting the sound wash over you. You knew the world wasn’t real, that the characters were fictional, yet somehow, Bridgerton had a hold on your heart.

Your days were filled with spreadsheets, emails, and endless Zoom meetings. Romance was more of a distant dream than a reality, your last date having ended with awkward silences and mismatched expectations. In comparison, the universe of Bridgerton seemed impossibly alluring and the dream world every girl wished to live in

But as the credits washed over the TV, your eyelids grew heavier. The candle’s lavender scent, the one you lit to relax, mingled with the faint hum of the screen, and soon, you fell asleep.

The first thing you noticed was the sun, bright, golden, and far too harsh for your liking. You groaned as it hit your eyes, squinting as you tried to roll over, only to feel the crunch of grass beneath your hands. Grass?

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up abruptly. Gone was your bed, your cozy room, your TV. Instead, you found yourself on the edge of an immaculately trimmed garden path. The air smelled of damp earth and blooming flowers, and birds chirped in the distance.

Panic bubbled in your chest as you took in your surroundings. You were outside, in what looked like the perfectly manicured grounds of a grand estate. But what caught your attention most was what you were wearing.

A corset cinched your waist tightly, and the skirt of her butter-yellow gown flared out around you. The material was heavy, the embroidery intricate, and your gloved hands trembled as you touched the neckline.

The ridiculous color made you want to barf, not to mention that when you grabbed your hair, the first thing that caught your attention was that it was red.

“What the—” you started to curse

“Y/n Featherington!”

The shrill voice cut through your confusion like a knife. You turned sharply, your heart racing. A woman in a garishly bright gown approached her, her face a blend of exasperation and disapproval. You had to admit it took you a moment to recognize her, but when you did, your jaw dropped.

“Lady Featherington?” you whispered.

The older woman pursed her lips. “What are you doing dawdling out here? Have you forgotten we have breakfast waiting? Come along, child!”

You scrambled to your feet, your mind reeling. Lady Featherington? None of this made sense. The last thing you remembered is watching her on Tv happy for Penelope but-

“Are you quite well, or has all that daydreaming rotted your brain?” the matriarch continued, waving a handkerchief impatiently. “The season is already underway, and we can’t afford for you to be making a spectacle of yourself.”

You stared, words failing you. Lady Featherington’s impatience only grew. “For goodness sake, do not stand there gaping like a fish! Move, Y/n!”

And with that, she turned and marched off toward the sprawling estate ahead. You hesitated, glancing around as if someone, anyone, might jump out and explain what was happening. When no one appeared, you hurried after Lady Featherington.

The Featherington estate was exactly as you remembered it from the series: bright, bold, and bordering on garish. But you weren’t familiar with it since they didn’t show it much, or at least the full house, all they showed was Penelope’s room, the drawing room and you could say the entrance.

You followed Lady Featherington through the grand halls, struggling to keep up in your unfamiliar gown. Did they really need to wear corsets all day? You felt like you couldn’t breath. Each step felt surreal, like you were floating through a dream.

“Do fix your hair before you sit down,” Lady Featherington snapped as they approached the dining room. “Honestly, Y/n, you’re two and twenty not two and ten. One would think you’d have learned to present yourself properly by now.”

You scowled but kept quiet, your mind too preoccupied to argue. Twenty-two? The words hit you hard. That was your real age. How did this fictional world know that?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you entered the dining room. Seated at the table were three familiar faces: Penelope, Prudence, and Philippa Featherington.

You froze, they looked just like their on-screen actors, down to the way Prudence leaned too close to the mirror she carried, fixing her hair with exaggerated care. Philippa was giggling over something no one else seemed to find amusing, and Penelope sat quietly, her expression kind but weary.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Penelope greeted, her voice soft.

“Morning, Pen” the words left your mouth before you could think, as if it was something familiar to you, something you’ve always done.

You sank into a chair, your movements awkward under the weight of the hideous dress you wore. Prudence snorted. “Honestly, you look half asleep. Did you even bother to brush your hair this morning?”

Your hand instinctively flew to your hair. You had no idea what it looked like, only that it was red, and kind of curly, but the smug smirk on Prudence’s face told you it wasn’t good.

“Leave her be,” Penelope said gently, giving you a sympathetic smile

“Leave her be?” Lady Featherington exclaimed as she swept into the room. “How can she hope to attract any suitors if she looks as though she’s rolled out of bed? This is her second season already, and we’ve yet to secure an offer!”

The words stung, even though you knew they weren’t meant for your real self. But the reminder that you were apparently in the start of a second season in Regency-era London was enough to snap you back into focus.

“None of us have attracted any match yet, have we?” You try to defend yourself

“I beg to differ” Philippa cuts in “Mr. Finch and I are soon to be married” she giggled

You rolled your eyes “perhaps instead of worrying about your sisters, you should start worrying whether you will still remain unmarried by the end of the season” Lady Featherington told you. You decided not to respond, not wanting to start an argument.

Breakfast was an exercise in survival. You focused on eating, using the elaborate table settings as a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. You listened as Prudence and Philippa bickered over their prospects, while Lady Featherington chimed in with unsolicited advice about how to catch a gentleman’s eye.

Penelope remained mostly quiet, though she sent you a few sympathetic glances. How such a sweet girl got born into this kind of family, you would never know.

“So, what are your plans for the day, Y/n?” Penelope finally asked.

You froze. Plans? What plans? Did people in Regency London even make plans, or were they just dragged around by their mothers and chaperones?

“Um…” you began, only to be interrupted by Prudence.

“She hasn’t any plans,” Prudence declared. “She never does.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Penelope chided.

Prudence shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

You looked down out the window, ignoring their conversation as you thought over what to do. What even is your purpose? From what you remembered, there was no fourth Featherington daughter, well, there was in the books but it was a little girl that was best friends with Hyacinth. And you are no little girl, obviously.

“Could we not have appealed to the queen, mama?” You snapped back into the conversation as you heard Prudence’s familiar dialogue “after mourning dear papa for so long, perhaps her majesty might extend her kindness and allow us to be presented again”

You couldn’t help yourself and cut in “even if you were presented again, Prudence, you still would not be declared the diamond”

“Y/n!” Lady Feather- mama, god you need to get used to calling her that, scolded, you apologized, shoving Penelope slightly as I saw her chuckling silently next to me

“I see no need to go through all of that again when I myself am already betrothed to Mr. Finch” Philippa stated, waving her hand around

Prudence turned to her “Mr. Finch may very well change his mind” she said snarkily. I sighed turning back to Penelope.

“what has you so impatient, Pen?” you asked her

She turned to face you, a small smile on her face “It is just nerves” she tried to play it off, but since you have already seen the series, you already know what it is “On whether I will find a good prospect this season… no one wants to be a spinster, but maybe I will be the unfortunate one to become so”

You chuckled, “You will not become a spinster, Pen.” You assure her “I assure you that if you don’t find a husband this season, you will the next one…and who knows, maybe it will be the person you’ve always longed for” you give her a knowing smile

“I am not that fortunate” she stands, walking towards the window.

“Penelope, how many times must I warn you to be wary of that window?” Portia called out “Do you wish to appear like a befreckled beggar spending all day in the sun?”

“Of course not, mama” Penelope turned her head to face her “My apologies” she smiled before turning back to the window

“It is here” She said happily

You watched Penelope as she stood behind the couch Prudence and Philippa occupied as they all read Lady Whistledown´s paper.

“I am off to the market with my maid, mama” She told Portia “I have just a bit left of pin money and- “Portia waved her off, gesturing for her to go

“I´ll go with you” you said to her as she turned to leave

The park was a lively scene that afternoon, filled with ladies strolling arm-in-arm and gentlemen gathered in clusters, exchanging conversation and laughter. You had chosen to take her walk alone, though Penelope had gone ahead to meet Eloise.

The events of the past few weeks still left you feeling disoriented, but you had started to settle into your role as Y/n Featherington, even though the world around you felt like an elaborate charade. You weren’t entirely sure why you were here or how you were supposed to navigate these social games, but you were determined to find your footing.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the tall figure stepping into your path until you nearly collided with him.

Your head snapped up, your eyes immediately opening wide as you saw him. You’ve always imagined meeting him but finally seeing him in front of you is surreal.

Your breath got caught In your throat.

Anthony.

He was exactly as you remembered—broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed, his dark hair neatly styled and his expression exuding the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to commanding attention. But seeing him here, in the flesh, was entirely different from watching him on a screen.

And he was handsome. Extremely.

“Miss Featherington?” His voice, deep and smooth, cut through her shock like a blade. Your eyes widened. How did he know- ah, right, Penelope

You blinked, trying to regain your composure. “Lord Bridgerton,” you managed to say, dipping into a shaky curtsy as you remembered it was the custom in this era

He stepped closer, his brows drawing together in mild concern. “Are you quite all right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

You gave a nervous laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. “My apologies, my lord. You just… startled me, is all.”

“I assure you, that was not my intention,” he replied, his tone polite but edged with curiosity. His dark eyes studied you, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see straight through your carefully constructed façade, realizing that you didn’t belong to this world

“You must forgive me,” You said quickly, your words tumbling out in an effort to mask your unease. “I was lost in thought and did not see you approach.”

“Clearly,” he said, though his tone carried no malice. “It is a rare occurrence to catch someone so thoroughly off guard.”

You straightened, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “And yet, here you are, Lord Bridgerton. A man of many talents, I see. I suppose this is a rare moment of leisure for you?” You tried to make small talk, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

Anthony raised an eyebrow at you. “Leisure, you say? And what makes you so certain I am not hard at work?”

“Hard at work?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “I had imagined as much. A man like you—busy securing the future of your family and interviewing potential viscountesses—surely has little time for aimless walks.”

Anthony blinked, clearly caught off guard by your bluntness, though he recovered quickly. “You are well-informed, Miss Featherington.”

“Only what everyone else already knows,” You replied casually, smoothing the skirt of her gown. “Your efforts to find a suitable match have become the talk of the ton. I dare say even Lady Whistledown has taken notice.”

“That is hardly surprising,” Anthony remarked, his tone edged with faint exasperation. “Lady Whistledown takes notice of everything.”

You tilt your head “Then perhaps the better question is whether you take notice of her words.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, he seemed to genuinely consider your question. “I find that Lady Whistledown’s observations are often exaggerated, though not always without merit. Still, I prefer to form my own opinions.”

“An admirable approach,” You said. “Though I do wonder, does that same logic apply to the ladies you interview? Or do you rely on recommendations from your family?”

He studied you carefully, as though trying to determine the intent behind your words. “I assure you, Miss Featherington, I take my responsibilities very seriously. When it comes to choosing a viscountess, I rely on no one but myself.”

You raised her hands in mock surrender. “Of course, my lord. I wouldn’t dream of suggesting otherwise. Let me guess, the perfect wife must be well read, intelligent, must play an instrument. Must know how many children she wants, able to hold a conversation and most important, hips capable of child bearing, am I wrong?”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across his features. “You have quite the imagination, Miss Featherington,” he said, his tone even, though there was a distinct edge of curiosity in his gaze. “And an uncommonly sharp tongue.”

You offered a small smile, your nerves steadying under the guise of playful banter. “Forgive me, my lord, if I’ve overstepped. But the list does sound like something Lady Whistledown herself might concoct. Or perhaps it’s simply what one hears when the Bridgerton heir is the subject of such persistent speculation.”

Anthony regarded you with an unreadable expression, his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned slightly closer. “And do you often find yourself among those who speculate, Miss Featherington?”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, hesitating for a moment before responding, your voice light but measured. “Speculation is hardly my pastime, my lord. However, when a man of your stature begins conducting interviews as though he were drafting a contract, it’s difficult not to take notice.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your heart flutter. “And what would you have me do instead, Miss Featherington? Rely solely on the whims of fate? Entrust my future to the uncertainty of a fleeting glance across a ballroom?” he murmured

“Some might argue that fleeting glances have led to the happiest of unions,” you countered, . “Though I suppose that would not suit a man as practical as yourself.” You smiled knowingly, already aware that before next season starts, he would already be in a marriage of love that started with those very same fleeting glances he has no interest in.

Anthony’s lips quirked upward in the faintest hint of a smile, though he quickly masked it. “You seem to have a rather strong opinion of me, despite our limited acquaintance.”

“Limited, perhaps, but not nonexistent,” you replied, taking a small step closer as if to match his intensity. “I’ve heard enough to know that you value duty above all else, that you are a man of precision and purpose. But even the most dutiful man can benefit from embracing the unexpected.”

He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And do you speak from experience, Miss Featherington?”

You hesitated, his question striking closer to home than you anticipated. “Perhaps,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But even if I did, I doubt my experience would be of any interest to you, my lord.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony said, his voice low but firm. “I find you quite… intriguing.”

Your breath hitched once again at his words, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. But then Anthony straightened, his composed demeanor returning as quickly as it had slipped.

“However,” he continued, his tone now more formal, “I must take my leave. Duty calls, as you so astutely pointed out.”

“Of course, my lord,” you said, managing a polite curtsy despite the sudden flutter in your chest. “I wouldn’t dare keep you from your responsibilities.”

As he turned to go, Anthony paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Miss Featherington,” he said, his voice softer now, “you may think me a man of precision, but even precision has its limits. Perhaps one day, you’ll learn just how far.”

And with that, he strode away, leaving you rooted to the spot, your mind racing and your heart pounding in a way you hadn’t expected.

As soon as he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing. Seeing him on-screen had never prepared you for this—for the sheer intensity of his presence, for the way his voice seemed to resonate in her very bones.

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself. This world might have been a dream come true, but Anthony Bridgerton was proving to be a far more disarming reality than you imagined.

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@heyyitsreign