#guess who started watching bridgerton

[plumsaucemadein2005]

"Its not historically accurate"

Yeah ok? Go watch a documentary.

[losticaruss]

my favorite dynamic? easy it's this

[uravichii]

"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

[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.

[eevees-hobbies]

Sext Me Like Ya Mean It - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by this Haruka Sakura Nendoroid, where he’s blushing and looking at his phone. "But, Eevee, how did a cute little figure inspire a fanfic that’s 8-pages long? " I can’t stress enough how down bad I am for this man. Like I would let him put it in my ***, and I’d  *** his *** off of a plate. And I’m not even fucking sorry about it. I might buy this thing and purchase a *** jar, to be fucking honest. Also, if you see any debauched shit with Haruka, tag me cuz I’m Jonesing (I’m dead fucking serious). 

Synopsis: Sakura and technology don’t mix, and now you’re telling him there’s this thing called sexting?! It’s a no from him…unless you can convince him that sexting can be fun for all involved! How will you manage to do that? I dare ya to guess.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Sexting in the form of text and video, Togame sees your breast, masturbation for you, public masturbation for Sakura, pet names including kitten, sir, and daddy. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2.7K

Dividers by Saradika. Banner by me.

“What’s…sexting?” 

Sakura looks defeated as he poses the question. He had just grasped the concept of texting, and now you were throwing more terminology his way?

You shake your head, amused that someone who grew up in the age of smartphones is so pop-culture illiterate. “Sexting is just texting, except we send sexier, more suggestive messages through words, gifs, or pictures. It’s really hot.”

Sakura runs a hand through his dichromatic black and white tresses, “that sounds dumb and not sexy.” 

Even saying the word sexy has a persistent shade of pink stretching over cheeks. 

“Don’t knock it until you give it a try, Sakura! Anyway, have fun with Suo and Nirei tonight.” You give him a peck on the cheek, which results in a grumble and him pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your earlier conversation with Sakura. He was always so quick to disregard things he didn’t think he would be good at. 

You can think of all the times you suggested something new: baking, binge-watching Bridgerton, and volunteering at a cat cafe, and how all those things were immediately met with complaints from your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t until you forced his hand by involving him in those activities that he started to warm up to being someone who can bake a mean cake, enjoy a good cuddle session while enjoying the latest season of Bridgerton, and is actually a talented cat-whisperer.

So much like those situations, a little push might be warranted. 

You pick up your phone, enter the passcode, and flick past the home screen displaying a picture of you leaning up to kiss the chin of a blushing, scowling Sakura. 

Across town, Sakura sits at a bar with Nirei and Suo—a bar is usually not their typical meet-up place, but it’s Togame’s birthday, and they needed a venue that could accommodate the size of all the rowdy Bofurin and Shishtoren alums. It also doesn’t help that Kotoha also said, “Fuck. No.” to hosting the party at Cafe Pothos.

A light buzz vibrates in Sakura’s pocket; he leans over, pulls his phone from the back of his jeans, and looks at the screen. He’s pleasantly surprised to see a message from you; he thought you’d be half asleep by now.

God, I miss her. Hope she hasn’t started a new episode of Bridgerton without me.

As he taps on the text bubble icon to open the message, his eyes squint, needing some time to take in the message and then re-read it.

8:20 PM: Hey, baby. I miss you. Thinking of you sooooo much.

His heart thumps aggressively in his chest—a common result of simply thinking about you—as he stares at the text before him, already overthinking what he should send, but you beat him with a follow-up message. 

I hate back-to-back texts. Never have time to respond. 

8:22 PM: I’m lying in bed. Don’t worry…not watching our fave shows without you, kitten. 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name you gave him. You told him that he looks like an angry kitten when he scrunches his nose and bears his teeth. Wiith little complaint from Sakura, the pet name stuck. It’s so stupid and emasculating, but he kind of loves it. 

“You ok, Sakura? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

Sakura looks up at Nirei. “O-oh uh, yeah. Just texting.”

Suo looks over Sakura’s shoulder, trying to peak at his phone screen, “but you aren’t typing anything?”

Sakura tilts the phone away from his friends’ nosey eyes. Your conversations with each other are personal for him, and he’s committed to keeping you all to himself.

“Stop being fucking nosey!” he growls. Sakura decides this is becoming too much of a hassle, but as soon as he’s about to put his phone away, he receives another text from you.

He pauses to consider that he could wait until he is alone to read your messages, but who knows how long that would be? What if you needed something? He would be pissed at himself if he missed an opportunity to do something for you. He decides that the risk of getting caught being called a pet name by his girlfriend isn’t that big of a deal, so he flips his phone over to read your latest commentary. 

8:25 PM: Read receipts are on, so I know you’re looking at your phone. Party must suck.

What the fuck is a read receipt? 

8:26 PM: A read receipt means I can see that you’ve looked at the text message. 

He smiles, loving how you can read his mind even when you’re not physically in front of each other. He’s almost ready to make a pass at typing those exact thoughts out until the following message has him clutching the phone to his chest out of fear that someone could read it over his shoulder. 

8:28 PM: I think I’m…ovulating? I have this craaaazy desire to lick your balls all the way to the tip of your dick, kitten. 

Sakura gradually pulls the phone away from his chest, checking that Nirei and Suo are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the deep-set blush on his cheeks and how he’s peaking at the phone through his fingers. 

His thoughts are frantic; he has so many questions about a situation that he’s never been in before. Why would you send something so filthy through your phone? What is he supposed to do about any of this information when he’s so far away? 

8:30 PM: I’m drooling just thinking about it, baby. Remember when you fucked my face so hard that my hair had my drool in it? I want you to do that again. Fuck my cute little mouth. 

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” A hand reaches past Sakura’s face and takes the phone from his grasp. Sakura immediately stands up, the barstool he was sitting on making a loud scraping sound as it drags against the floor.

But the perpetrator is tall, and Sakura may have beaten his ass before, but they’re friends now, and it’s looked down upon to abuse your friends. 

Togame looks down at Sakura, shaking his head. “You’ve been on your phone every time I look over at ya. What is more important than spending time with me on my birthday?” He punctuates each syllable with a swing of Sakura’s phone.

Suo, ever the instigator, happily chimes in. “He’s texting Y/N!”

“Oh?” Togame’s brows furrow as he looks around the bar, realizing he hasn’t seen you all night. “Hey, yeah, your shadow is missing.”

In what feels like slow-motion, which it probably is because it’s Togame we’re talking about, Sakura watches as Togame’s eyes look down at the screen. He watches as emerald irises quickly scan the text—obviously a faster reader than Sakura—and his eyes widen. 

“Well, damn. That’s hot.”

Another text comes in to Togame’s delight. He lets out a whistle and hands the phone back over to Sakura.

“You sure you know what to do with a girl like that? I could take her off your hands.”

Sakura shoots him a murderous look; his fists clench as he steps toe-to-toe with him. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Togame chuckles, knowing that look in Sakura’s eyes. It was only a few years ago that he and Shishitoren had inspired that same look, which resulted in Sakura and Togame becoming close and saving his best friend’s life.

But somehow, the look Sakura harbors is more intense—protective—now than back then, and it’s all because of you. Togame fully believes that Sakura would be willing to swing on him for you and to protect your honor. Relenting, Togame pats his head, “Kidding. Y'all are cute together.”

Sakura looks down at the phone, curious to see what you’ve sent this time and what Togame glimpsed. What he sees is somehow worse than you calling him kitten or saying you want to gargle his balls down the back of your throat—it’s far worse. 

This time, you sent an image of you in front of a mirror, clad in only your bra and panties, legs folded underneath you as you pulled a bra cup down, exposing your breast.

His eyes dart up to Togame and down to his phone in quick succession, short-circuiting in a matter of seconds. 

Togame chuckles at Sakura’s reaction, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. Lucky guy.”

As Togame shuffles off with the image of your full breast sitting heavily on his mind and wondering what it would feel like for that same breast to sit heavily on his tongue—Sakura stomps off to the bathroom in hopes of regaining his composure.

Suo and Nirei exchange shrugs, assuming Sakura is experiencing one of his usual moods.

Sakura enters the furthest stall from the door and immediately texts you, with your picture still sitting enticingly at the top of his messages.

8:35 PM: Togame just saw that picture. 

Elipses in a bubble appear on the screen, signifying that you’re in the middle of typing. While he waits, he can’t help but look at the picture you sent, his thumb rubbing over your dark, perky nipple as he swallows thickly at the bulge straining against his jeans. 

8:37 PM: What did he say? Did he like it lol?

Sakura shakes his head. You are a ridiculously massive pain in his ass sometimes, but you’re also so…hot. 

8:39 PM: Send me another picture. But with less clothes. 

His heart is once again pounding in his chest, hoping you comply with little to no backtalk for once. He doesn’t even care that people are shuffling in and out of the bathroom as his foot taps against the shiny tile of the floor in impatience.

Another image appears on his phone in what feels like an eternity. This time, your legs are bent in front of you, with two fingers spreading your folds, allowing him to see every bit of your sex in the reflection of the mirror.

Before Sakura knows it, his hand is reaching down into his pants and palming his hard dick while zooming into the picture, inspecting every inch of you that he’s already previously committed to memory. His eyes dart over your clit, that cute little nub that makes you grip his hair as he sucks and licks at it. His eyes move down as he zooms into the image as much as it will allow, looking at your tight hole, which, despite image quality, he can tell is already shining with thick moisture that gives it that glazed, glistening look that makes his mouth water. 

Sakura unbuckles his belt, letting it drag his pants and boxers to his ankles. 

8:43 PM: Baby? Where’d you go? Or should I be saying hi to Togame instead?

Sakura grunts, not realizing that the logistics of sexting and jerking off can be so troublesome—you really have been teaching him a lot. He picks up his phone and shoots you another text.

8:45 PM: Shut up. Keep going. I like what I’m seeing. 

8:45 PM: Yes, sir.

His cock twitches at your use of that honorific. Yeah, being called kitten is lovely when you’re being sweet, but he also likes it when you call him sir or daddy when your naughty side comes out.

Sakura goes back to stroking himself and looking at the previous picture you sent him. The message is pushed up as you send a new image; he doesn’t have to scroll far to see something that makes him leak precum onto the toilet seat below him.

You’ve moved away from the mirror and are lying on the bed; your soft, thick thighs spread far enough to give him a clear view of the two fingers you have shoved in your pretty pussy. He can tell by the white coating near your knuckles that you must have been pumping the absolute hell out of her. 

His mind is racing. Were you thinking about him as you finger fucked yourself? What did you imagine him doing to you? How close were you, and could you hold off until he got home? 

Sakura squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like this entire experience is overloading his senses. He had just learned how to text, and now he’s sexting you? And you’re sending the dirtiest, filthiest messages to him as he jerks off in a public bathroom during his friend’s birthday party?

What the actual fuck..

He licks the palm of his hand and brings it down to stroke himself, imagining that it’s your slick being rubbed into the pores of his dick. He can’t even manage to start slowly because you’ve already done such an excellent job with these pictures—already making his cock hard to the extent that his balls hurt, and if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll have to punch someone. 

Sakura begins mumbling under his breath as his strokes quicken and increase in intensity. She’s such a good girl for me. Perfectly needy and so into me. She’s so pretty and sweet, and I’m her Daddy.

He’s picturing you in every single position he’s ever had you in and every position he wants to try in the near future. 

He’s imagining sucking on your nipples, biting them as hard as he’d like to without you squealing that it hurts. 

He’s imagining pinning you underneath him while folding your ankles behind your head so he can hit that spot that makes you squirt on his stomach. 

He’s imagining you begging him to pull the condom off and fuck you raw because you “need every last drop of his baby batter” He shivers at the thought of you saying something so slutty and out of character.

The hand holding his phone vibrates, and he enthusiastically pulls his phone back in front of him. This time, you’ve sent a video; he’s never pressed play so fast in his life. 

The video is shakey, but when it beings to play, it focuses in on you fingering your pussy—-his pussy.

“S-SAKURA, FUCK,” blasts through the speakers as you breathily moan his name and your favorite expletive. 

He quickly lowers the volume but not too much so he can still hear as he presses the speaker to his ear, savoring the sound of your moans and the sound of your fingers being stuffed into your hungry cunt, mixing and squelching your juices noisily for him. 

It reminds him of that ASMR shit that you sometimes listen to–if he could have an ASMR recording of just you, your moans, and the sound your pussy makes for him, he’d listen to it every single day.

Sakura feels his hamstrings tighten and a burning sensation in his abdomen; listening to you is bringing him closer to his orgasm, and it feels like it’s going to be intense. 

God, and everything you were saying was just perfect.

“Your pussy misses you, Daddy.”

“I love the way-”  gasp “love the way you fuck me, baby.”

“Haru, I need you, baby. Please come home.”

“I’m so close, but I can’t cum without you, baby boy.”

“I want to squirt on your dick, sir. Please, please, please.”

Sakura hunches over and lets out a deep, guttural moan that can’t be stopped even as he grits his teeth. His balls clench violently, and his nut shoots out onto the toilet seat, toilet bowl, and on the floor. Even when he thinks that his cum is done spilling from him, more bubbles at his tip and dribbles down the length of his cock and along his knuckles. 

He leans against the stall wall and stares at the mess he made—all over himself and everywhere his airborne spunk could reach.

He’s convinced that he’s never come so hard in his life, and it was all because of you. Fuck! He hasn’t messaged you since you called him sir, and that was—he checks the clock on his phone—ten minutes ago!

He types out a message, sneering in disgust as cum smears on his phone screen.

9:05 PM: I just fucking came. Coming home. Don’t clean yourself up.

9:06 PM: CAME?! In your pants….? Or…?

9:08 PM: SAKURA?!

He doesn’t reply because he’s already on his way home to you.

[newtonsheffield]

face blindness is totally real with baseball players lol, imagine an au where Anthony plays baseball for Kate and Appa’s favorite team and she starts enjoying watching him playing but when she meets him outside of baseball she doesn’t recognize him and starts going all protective mother hen on him for something he did and doesn’t realize she is giving a dressing to her favorite baseball player and Anthony is enjoying it

Genuinely when they have their hats off in the dugout: I don’t know who that man is! That is not the man I recognise. Sorry to that man.

Okay but imagine Anthony, after having a pretty ordinary game the night before sees a woman standing in a Bridgerton jersey when he went to get his coffee in the morning. He waited for her to notice him when they were in line together and she didn’t and now, as they stand there waiting for their orders he’s actually starting to get a bit offended. It doesn’t hurt that this woman’s absolutely stunning and he thinks it’ll be fun and flirty to go over to her and make a joke about the jersey.

“Were they out of all the others at the team store? Didn’t even have any plain ones left?”

She’s even more beautiful when she looks up from her phone, her eyebrow raised. “Would you believe, I went there with the express purpose of buying this one. Love me a shortstop, I guess.”

Anthony smirked a little, “Did they give you a discount on it? I’d be happy to reimburse you.”

“Are you one of those pathetic people that think one game means they’re done?”

Anthony’s lips parted, the realization dawning on him that she didn’t recognise him. “I… not usually.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Sure he hasn’t had a hit in two games now but let’s not pretend there haven’t been some awful calls. Some umpires obviously think the plate is 3 feet wide.”

Anthony chuckled, “I agree actually,”

“Bridgerton’s spent his whole career being touted as a hero when he does well and washed when he doesn’t hit and other people get away with much more mediocrity.”

“You seem like you know what you’re talking about.”

“You thought I wouldn’t because I’m a woman?”

“No, I just-“

“Bridgerton!” A man called out as he passed, clapping him on the back. “We’ll get ‘em tonight man! World Series is coming home!”

“Thanks man!” Anthony called back turning towards the woman who was staring at him in horror.

“Oh, my god. You’re him.”

Anthony grinned at her, “In my defense: I only meant to do a flirty, cute little bit. Thanks for telling me I’m great though.”

“You look so different without your cap on.” She gasped, “And I’m usually much… further away from you when I go to games with my Dad.”

“I’m handsome in and out of the cap, thanks.”

“I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

Anthony shrugged, “Don’t be. Are you coming tonight?”

“Nope.” She shrugged awkwardly, “Postseason is tough to get tickets for.”

He had no idea what it was about this woman that made him want to do it but he shrugged, “I’ll leave some tickets for you. What’s your name?”

“You… Don’t have to do that.”

“Least I can do for my biggest fan.”

She scoffed, “I’m not your biggest fan.”

“Oh sure.” Anthony said, “What’s you name?”

“Kate. Kate Sharma.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing you there tonight, Kate Sharma.”

He’s not sure why he feels nervous as he gets ready in the clubhouse that night but it’s the first thing he does when he steps onto the field; Look for her in his seats behind home plate. She’s sat next to a man who could only be her father, both of them in their jerseys and he can’t help but make a show of putting his cap on for her, calling out:

“Do you recognise me now?”

Her face splits into a wide smile, “There he is!”

For some reason it’s her he looks to when his song plays over the speakers in the 8th inning, two runs down with the bases loaded.

She’s staring at him, her thumbnail caught between her teeth as he adjusts his batting gloves and taps the plate with the bat before he takes his stance.

He stares down the pitcher, takes a deep breath as he waits for the ball and swings.

He felt the crack of the ball against the wood of his bat and The ball went soaring up over the outfield and the crowd roared as they realised what was about to happen just as he did.

He flipped the bat, fists in the air as he pointed to Kate, rounding the bases, soaking in the moment. Hero once again.

He felt a little stupid as he snatched the bat up at the end of the game, begging someone for marker as he scribbled on it, hoping she hadn’t left already before he scrambled out of the dug out, over the wall.

“Kate!”

She was just leaving, her father ahead of her and she turned around shock and surprise written on her face.

“Yeah?”

“I um- Thanks for um… thanks for coming tonight.”

She blinked at him, a little embarrassed as everyone stared at them, taking photos. “Thanks for the tickets. That was sweet and you didn’t have to and my Dad’s going to be talking about this forever.”

Anthony waved to her father who was watching curiously over her shoulder. “Well, I’m glad I could put on a good show for you.”

“Congrats. Hero again.”

“I wanted to give you this.” He held the bat out towards her. “I’ve been having a… yeah I haven’t been playing my best but thank you. I just… I’m… thank you.”

“I can’t take that.”

“Yes you can.” He grinned at her. “And who knows… maybe you’ll use it.”

He waved at her father again and pushed his way back through the crowd before he could lose his nerve, her voice calling after him.

“Is this your actual fucking phone number?!”

“Call it and find out!”

[myfairstarlight]

I've started to see takes saying Colin deserves better than Penelope, and claiming she "got away with everything", and to that I must say:

Whistledown was never created out of jealousy or anger. It was born from a lonely girl who wished to be part of a society that rejected her, so she wrote about it.

Penelope never pursued Colin. This wasn't some nefarious plan of hers like that take makes it sound like. He's the one who did all the chasing. Penelope was very much planning on distancing herself from him and the Bridgertons after last season. He's the one who couldn't let her go

She literally offers the annulment knowing there might still be people angry at her for Whistledown. That's her taking accountability and absolving the Bridgertons from dealing with her mess. Guess what he does again? He refuses, fully accepting the challenges ahead. Now that's marriage. And standing by his cancelled wife.

She decides to come clean in front of the whole Ton despite everyone around her trying to find an out for her. She could have taken the easy way out, lie to get the rest of the blackmail money needed, but she refused to drag the rest of the Bridgertons into this.

"Penelope faced no consequences" she is wracked with guilt for half the season, her closest loved ones turned away from her, and she got blackmailed. This is also a romance show the queen was NOT going to behead her as punishment, actually, go watch Game of Thrones instead

She was already changing the column to be more uplifting towards women and less confrontational with the Queen (even as the other debutantes talked shit about her, and the Queen threatened her). She was aware that her previous tone in her writing may have led to more problems. She is atoning for her past mistakes already.

Really looking back the only real mistakes she made was with Marina and Eloise. These were exceptions to what she usually writes as she exposed their secrets, not gossip. That's an important distinction to make. One the show itself does not make, actually.

You can add what she wrote about Colin too as an exception, since she was being petty and angry, and she regrets it immediately

She confessed everything to Violet. Granted, we do not see the letter, but she did come clean to the head of the family (since Anthony already left, otherwise I bet she would have told him too)

The one thing I agree with is that we had no closure for the Marina situation, despite her being mentioned several times.

But overall, she was remorseful, and she tried to fix things. She reached out to Eloise several times before they reconcile, she changed her column, and she now wishes to use her column to give a voice to the voiceless, the same way Whistledown helped her find a voice.

And Colin, well, he's only ever wanted Penelope, even after the reveal. Because Penelope remains the only one who truly understood him and supported him for being himself. Meanwhile Penelope is trying to be better. That's the key word, she wants to do better, so no she does not "get away with everything" because there was never malicious intent from her in the first place, but for the damage she did do, she wants to make up for them. And yeah, she's a goddamn mess, but as he said, she is his mess.

However, Colin did deserve better, but in terms of writing and screen time especially in part 2. We were told, more than shown, about his struggles, which is a bit of a shame when compared to Penelope's (and yet people still misunderstand her character, so).

[the-offside-rule]

Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona) - Quiet

Requested: no, but I watched Bridgerton and I fucking love Francesca and John so here you go

Warnings: none

The grand hall buzzed with excitement and chatter as Y/n navigated through the crowd. Working as an assistant at a prestigious company had its perks, but being at this lavish party filled with colleagues and business elites made her feel like a fish out of water. The sparkling lights, the clinking glasses, and the constant murmur of conversations started to weigh on her. Y/n felt eyes following her, admiring her evening gown and confident demeanor, but inside she was anything but confident. Her introverted nature made such social gatherings feel like an ordeal rather than a pleasure. She smiled politely, exchanged pleasantries, and tried her best to fit in, but it was exhausting.

Finally, she decided she needed a break. Slipping out through a side door, she found herself in a quiet garden terrace, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere inside. The cool night air was refreshing, and the view of the Barcelona skyline was breathtaking. Y/n took a deep breath, feeling some of her tension melt away. As she stood there, lost in the beauty of the city lights, she heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, she gave a polite smile, but found herself having to look again as she saw who stood beside her. "Buenas tardes." He said as Y/n looked absolutely dumbfounded. His presence was calm, yet commanding, and she could hardly believe her eyes.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked with a warm smile. "Not at all." She replied, returning his smile, feeling a little more at ease. They stood in companionable silence for a while, simply enjoying the view and the quiet. It was a rare moment of peace in their otherwise hectic lives. Pedri glanced at Y/n, noticing the way the city lights reflected in her eyes, and felt a strange, inexplicable connection.

"You seemed a bit overwhelmed back there." He said gently, breaking the silence. "You noticed?" Pedri chuckled, looking down to the ground. "I think I am the only one who noticed." Y/n breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god. These events aren't really my thing." She admitted. "I prefer the quiet." Pedri nodded along. "I can understand that. Sometimes, I just need a break from all the noise and attention too."

"It must be intense." She said, looking at him. "Always being in the public eye." Pedri shrugged. "It has its moments. But it's worth it when you love what you do. What about you? Do you like your job?" He asked. "I do." She replied. "But it's demanding." Pedri glanced over to her as she leaned on the ledge of the balcony. "Do you come to events like this often?" He asked. "So many. I'm the CEO's assistant." Y/n replied. "You?"

"Not as often as you'd think." Pedri replied. "I try to keep a balance. But when I do, I look for moments like this. It's nice to meet someone who appreciates the quiet." Y/b smiled at his answer. Who new a man with such status could be so similar to her? "It's nice to meet someone who understands."

They continued to chat casually, sharing stories and laughing between themselves. Pedri was charming and easy to talk to, and Y/n found herself relaxing more than she had all evening. "He really did that?" Y/n laughed. "Whag do you expect? That's Gavira for you." Pedri replied. "I-"

"Y/n! Mr Hernandez is looking for you!" Y/n gasped as she stood up promptly, smoothing out her dress with her hands. "I lost track of time. I'll be lucky if I still have a job tomorrow." Y/n mumbled, half joking. She looked up to see Pedri gazing back at her softly. "I guess this is goodbye for now." She said. "I guess so." He replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "It was nice talking to you, Y/n."

"Likewise, Pedri." She said, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. As she walked back inside, she felt Pedri’s eyes on her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if their paths would cross again. Pedri watched her disappear into the crowd, feeling an unexpected longing. The connection they had felt in those brief moments lingered, leaving him with a sense of anticipation.

[shy-blue-blossom]

Heliotrope

Colin Bridgerton

Soft music played as the ton danced with their intended, or family members to escape from the vultures some call mothers. Amongst the spectators stood one of the Bridgertons. Their gaze did not leave one of the young ladies who danced with their father. He was going to ask for a dance but her brother had reached them before him. His eyes focused on her. A soft smile made its home on his face not noticing the young lady's father standing next to him.

"You would think she had the sun in her hands with the way you watch her," Colin jumped at the voice before he turned.

"I do not understand what you mean Lord L/n," He started as he turned back to where the dancers were. Colin continued before the lord could say anything. "She is my sun, my eyes will find and follow her."

"I am happy she found you," Lord L/n said after he saw how Colin looked at his daughter. This caused him to look at Lord L/n with a smile. "I'm guessing you are eager to have your wife back after her mother stole her from you." He jested as he turned to his daughter and son.

"I am," Colin agreed. "How is Audrey finding the season? I'm assuming that is why Lady L/n stole my wife." Lord L/n laughed before he nodded.

"You stolen bride returns."

Colin's head wiped around and a smile as bright as the sun was what greeted his wife. She had a smile just as bright when she noticed him.

"Colin!" She let her brother's arm go and took ahold of his offered hand. He pulled her into him and kissed her hand. The two lovers went into their own world as they reunited after not spending the day without one another.

"You would think he returned from war," A voice came from behind Lord L/n. The two gentlemen turned and saw Viscount Bridgerton. They chuckled at the thought. "But it is nice to know they are both devoted to each other and found a love so strong."

The three gentlemen could agree and watched as they moved to the dance floor.

"Do you not want to go home Lord husband?" Colin was asked.

"Would you deny your husband a dance Lady y/n?" She smiled as she shook her head.

"That would be a crime,"

Colin laughed at that then guided y/n into a dance. They looked into each other's eyes and lost themselves there for the rest of the evening.

The end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Language of Flowers

Masterlist

[giveupcoffeeforsanka]

My whole thing is this: you all are looking for confirmation on made up theories because you've never been part of production.

Along comes an account that purports to be in the know, and it "confirms" what you've driven yourselves to believe.

It's called confirmation bias.

Nothing, and I mean nothing that thetuliproselilyhyacinth has shared is independently verifiable.

They drop tidbits that sound accurate, but are really easy to guess at if you're paying attention. Oh, Yerin's announcement is coming Wednesday, Sept 11! Yeah, because they were back on set and that was always the plan, to have an official announcement at the start of production. That's common sense. Not insider knowledge.

"Netflix is really unhappy with the reception to season 3." Are they? It's the only English-language show with 3 seasons in the top 10 most-watched shows.

"General audiences hated it." Who are these people? When you say general audience, what is the audience segmentation? General doesn't mean anything in this context except...general. And it's vague enough that people who need to believe season 3 did poorly will believe it. It's, once again, confirmation bias.

By tuliproselilyhyacinth's own admission, they don't work in production (they're not on set), they don't work in costuming, they don't work in the writer's room, they don't work for Shondaland. That leaves Netflix: a company that employs ~13,000 people. But they said they work in the UK, there's around ~300 UK Netflix employees. Netflix is the network for Bridgerton. Only the executives parlay about high-level decisions. If tuliproselilyhyacinth's one of their EAs and hears enough to come online and talk about it? That's extremely dumb and easy to track. That's why their posts are vaguities! They're making stuff up to relay to an audience that is primed to believe the worst about Shondaland and their treatment of cast members.

If this was a person truly ~in the know~ regarding anything remotely verifiable about Bridgerton where were they in seasons 1&2? How'd they just decide to appear like a weed around season 3 with only season 3 information? Lol.

This person is attempting to be some insider spoilers a la DeuxMoi except they don't know anything!

TL;DR: you're not immune to disinformation or propaganda even when the stakes are low. You need to ask yourselves why you're willing to listen to someone so vague and so bold talk about absolutely nothing.

[spaceorphan18]

THE LADY WHISTLEDOWN PAPERS : 1X01 - A DIAMOND OF THE FIRST WATER (PART 4)

Hi! Welcome back to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Alright, finally wrapping up the first episode but it ends with some really good stuff!

Dinner

I'm kind of amused that I've managed to ignore the main Simon/Daphne plot as long as I've could... But here we are at a Bridgerton family dinner where we get to see the family dynamics on brilliant display as Violet arranged all of this so Simon and Daphne could hang out.

Fascinatingly, the first subject of talk is the identity of Lady Whistledown, and it's a fun little conversation as they start guessing who it could possibly be. Colin, hilariously, suggests it could be a man -- only to rightfully be shotdown by Eloise because how dare he. Colin isn't even going to know who Lady Whistledown is when he's sleeping with her, so boy really does not have the highest of deduction skills.

Hyacinth, of all people, will get the closest when she guesses Lady Featherington. It's amusing that she's consistently used as a sort of prophet. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of role she plays throughout the show.

Most of this scene is dedicated to Simon and Daphne... falling in love? idk. What I do like about it, though is something I enjoy in general about Bridgerton as a whole -- the fact that it does rather well with sibling dynamics. There are a lot of personalities at that table, and it's kind of cool to see how they can be all similar and all different at the same time.

Colin remains chatting and laughing with Benedict. We don't really get enough of a conversation to be able to really comment but, it does look like they're having a great conversation. We don't get a whole lot of reaction from Colin as to the whole Simon/Daphne thing so -- I don't really have much to say on that front either, but it'll be interesting tracking it through the season.

Dance

I never noticed they are in a boat -- so... this is on an island? What is even going on? What ball is this again? Do I really need to watch ALL of Season 1 for this project?

You know, we don't get a ton of Colin and Benedict stuff throughout the years, but they often are having fun in the background while Anthony is brooding up front.

Alright, so, LET'S GET INTO MY FAVORITE MOMENT OF THE EPISODE!

I really should have gone back and watched the previous scenes to figure out where exactly they are but I didn't, ah well. It looks like more like a festival of sorts more than a ball, which I think is pretty cool because the actual ballrooms start to feel the same after awhile.

Anyway... we have Pen just kind of standing by herself looking lonely. Interestingly, she does look like she's looking for someone? But she says she wasn't expecting him, so I wonder if she's just glancing around in Lady Whistledown mode?

The way she jumps and immediately lights up when she sees him. She's shocked to see him, but so delighted that he has sought her out. And it's interesting to note that he goes looking for her first thing -- granted it's for information -- but still he does seek her out at every social gathering. ;) No, but this is important. In both their interactions now, he has come to her. She may be the one with the crush, but she's not following him around like a love-sick puppy.

I should have mentioned it before, but in both instances he has called her 'Pen'. Not Miss Featherington (Which would have been appropriate) not Penelope. Just Pen. It speaks to their level of familiarity and established relationship. It also isn't appropriate for an unmarried man and woman of no relation to call each other by their first names, let alone a nickname. Episode 1 and they're already breaking rules.

It's the same with the little bow they give each other. It's such an after thought, such a -- oh right, we're outside and have to adhere to society rules where men and women greet each other in a certain way, but they do so halfheartedly. They don't really care about what society wants when they're around each other.

Penelope exclaims that she didn't know he'd be there (an interesting comment - I wonder why not) and then he says 'sorry to disappoint'. And that's a telling comment. It's self deprecating humor. He's not used to anyone wanting or needing him around and/or preferring Anthony or Benedict instead. But also, he (probably) assumes that she'd probably prefer Eloise to join her over him.

But her lighting up when she sees him doesn't really go unnoticed -- subconsciously anyway. It's infectious when you have someone who is genuinely excited to see you -- especially when you're used to being the one that is not being sought after. And he is genuinely happy to see her, too -- even if he's asking about Marina, he still has a warm smile for her. They both latch on to the genuine affection they have for the other one.

Colin asks about Marina, and the way Pen's face just falls when he does so. :( She realizes that he had an ulterior motive when coming to speak to her, and that guts her a little. (as a note - it's implied a little earlier in the episode that Marina is pregnant. It's not officially said - but they get into it more in episode 2. Obviously, that's important to this plot...)

Pen explains that Marina's illness is why Portia isn't around and why Lord Featherington is chaperoning. Colin grins at this -- I can only imagine how hilarious he finds it that Lord Featherington has to be (semi-)involved in his daughters' lives. I haven't really spoken much about him yet, but at best, you could claim that Lord Featherington was a neglectful father. He doesn't really interact with any of his daughters, nor does he seem to care all that much. I have to imagine that Colin, at least a little bit understands this, hence it's so amusing that he's there now.

Pen then is excited to show off her dress. It's not yellow! It's still a girlish pink with hints of blue (foreshadowing through clothes? maybe?). She still looks like a child a bit, but she doesn't stand out so much. She can blend in a bit more, and not feel as if everyone is making fun of her for her clothes.

In a way, the 'not yellow enough' comment was a little self deprecating, too. As the two of them have that in common -- that they both feel unseen and unwanted in society.

She's also trying to get his attention -- trying to get him to check her out. It's awkward and cute and I love how excited she is in her attempt. The thing is, he does notice! We don't really see his reaction to her comment -- but if you look you can tell that he is grinning back at her as they talk.

And then Cressida comes along and spoils their moment. So. Here's the thing I've noticed already about Cressida. Lady Featherington and Lady Cowper are friends. Sorta. They mean girl together. And as we learn in season 3, Lady Cowper has instilled this kind of ruthlessness into Cressida as a way of survival.

I also wonder -- did Cressida spend time with the Featherington girls? It's interesting that Lady Cowper is always around, but we don't see Cressida at the house. I wonder where she is and what she's doing. I will say -- I don't think Cressida is friends at all with Prudence or Phillipa. All three aren't very nice -- but Cressida is much shaper and pointed with her unkindness, while Prudence and Phillipa are just kind of dumb. And I can see Cressida poking fun at them as much as she does with Penelope.

Here's the thing. I want to joke how ridiculous it is that no one seems to notice that Pen is deeply pining for Colin. She is so open about her feelings but the thing is, no one really seems to notice her and that's why no one ever calls her out on it.

Except, I like to believe that Cressida does.

There's no real reason for Cressida to interject herself into their conversation other than she wants to be mean for the sake of it. I don't think she has any real interest in Colin other than his name and the fact that dancing with him would put a mark on her dance card.

Pen interjects on Cressida's attempt and that's when Cressida's claws come out. Cressida's mother (as we'll learn) has taught her to see any other woman as a form of competition. Pen was making a comment because she and Colin are friends and in a way already more than friends. They have a solid, established relationship. Cressida is looking at Colin as a way to achieve a goal. And Pen is getting in the way of that.

So Cressida does what she has been taught and tries to eliminate any kind of competition. And some of it is trashing on someone the ton already trashes on but it's also digging the knife in a little deeper, because I do think Cressida knows that Pen isn't just talking to some guy at a party, she's talking to a guy she likes and has feelings for.

Cressida probably over heard her, too, that Penelope was happy about her dress choice. So what does she do? Dump water (?) over the front of her dress. Not only was Penelope having a moment of confidence but Cressida's cruelty takes that away as she embarrasses Pen. But also she claims to not have not even seen Penelope there. Obviously she did, but it adds to the fact that Pen is often seen as wallpaper, nothing to really take note of.

Colin's face during all of this though! Because here's the thing. Here's the THING and why I love Colin. He probably wouldn't have really entertained Cressida as a dance partner unless he had to. That's... a whole other thing. But the minute she started cutting in front of Pen. The minute she pulls this stunt on his very good friend, it's over.

Cruelty is not part of Colin's nature, and seeing other people mean is an automatic turn off for him. But more than that, Cressida just trashed someone he does care about, and that is unacceptable. Look how hard his face is in this moment - he's pissed off at her for what she did.

And then just look at the way his face softens as he turns his attention to Pen. It's caring and gentle and he's looking out for her right from the beginning!

But I mean, also, what he does is so calculated and is such a badass moment. He beats Cressida at her own game. Not only does he completely deny her a dance, he decides that Penelope is the more worthy choice and snatches her up (as a mess as she is at the moment). He doesn't spare Cressida a second look. He'd dance with Penelope anyway, he doesn't need an excuse, but to play society's games as a way to punch back at Cressida for being mean to Pen -- is just so ballsy. He may not be a huge fan of the rules, but he knows how to play them and when it matters.

I also should note that Colin has a sort of hero complex, too, that comes into play. He likes to be the one to help people, to save people, and what he's doing is saving Pen from humiliation. He does genuinely care for her. But he also won't let someone be trashed because for the sake of it.

And I mean... we should take note of this moment -- because it's going to haunt Cressida for a long, long time. You just fucked with Lady Whistledown in front of her husband, Cressida. Your days are numbered.

And, I mean, look at the utter shock on Pen's face as he reaches for her hand. His kindness is why she loves him, and this just adds another moment to that pile. No one else really looks out for her. No one else really sees her. No one else would really stand up to Cressida and put her first. It's no wonder she's gone for him.

But then here's the thing. As we get our fun, little Irish jig started, Colin just looks delighted as they get to the dance floor. Cressida is all but forgotten as the two of them settle into their dance together. Pen is still shaken a bit as they start, but Colin has no qualms about what he had just done. In fact, he's proud of himself. But more so -- now he and Pen can just have fun -- as they always do.

This is not the first time they've danced together (as will be alluded to in the next episode). They probably danced a bit and enjoyed themselves, and as Pen settles into it, they both just have fun together.

And the jig is something to notice as dance is important in this show. It's fun and lively but it's also still a little childish, a game. It's not serious courtship, not yet, but it's enjoyment and playfulness but it's purposeful! As this level of caring and understanding and joy are the basis for their friendship and therefore the basis of their eventual relationship.

I mean just look at these idiots not knowing that they're really falling in love with each other.

I love everything about this scene so much!!

Okay, I have to close out on this shot of Pen. Because this is important. As Simon and Daphne come in with their little scheme to fake dating, Penelope is watching. And in fact, if you notice (Nicola Coughlan confirmed it) Pen is always just right there, noticing the action that's going on. And therefore Lady Whistledown is right there.

In this shot its obvious that it's her, but I'll be keeping an eye out because she does this a lot if you're looking for her. She's almost like a Where's Waldo cartoon!!

And that's finally Episode 1!! Whoo we made it! :)

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Bliss - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Content : smut, 18+, f receiving oral, penetration, slight praise, jealousy, mentions of virginity

Summary : Anthony is jealous of a friend that dances with you at your wedding. He decides to offer to make you feel just how much he loves you.

Word Count : 1.5k

A/N : hi everyone! this is part 2 to Come Away With Me. I hope you enjoy and pls reblog if you enjoy, it is one of the best ways to support your favorite writers!

Read Part 1 here

You twirled on the dance floor effortlessly, the music pounding in your ears as your dance partner sailed across the floor with you. Your white, pearled veil was buttoned at your delicate wrist and there has been a smile plastered on your face since the moment you woke up. Anthony Bridgerton and yourself, married at last. 

At this particular moment, you were not quite sure where your husband was, and you were dancing with an old family friend, Horace. He has always had a bit of a crush on you, but you made it quite clear that friends are all you would ever be. Still, he seemed genuinely delighted at your marriage and was letting nothing but praise about Anthony fall on your ears. You were smiling so much that your cheeks hurt, and as you curtsied at the end of the band’s song, you glanced around for Anthony, finding him looking absolutely furious standing with the Duke of Hastings. You frown slightly, and start to make your way towards him when you are apprehended by Eloise and Penelope. 

“So.” Eloise says. 

“So.” You reply, smiling at her. 

“Welcome to the family Bridgerton, where all we care about is status and looks.” Anthony’s younger sister quips. Penelope grimaces, leaning forward in front of Eloise to grasp your hands affectionately.

“You look absolutely lovely, y/n. Anthony is lucky to have as stable and respectable a woman as you.” 

You smile at Penelope and give her a hug before moving on. Suddenly, Anthony is by your side, pulling you to the dance floor. You follow happily, happy to have him hold you in his arms. His arm encircles your waist and he pulls you so close. The tips of your noses touch and he speaks through gritted teeth. 

“Does Horace truly think that he can dance with my wife all night? He should not even be touching you, let alone thinking of you.” He says bitterly, the jealous tone seeping through prominently. 

You blink. “You cannot be serious.” 

“I am quite serious.” 

“It was just a dance, Anthony.” 

He spins you once before pulling you in again, leaning his head down to brush his lips against your ear, causing you to shiver at the unexpected sensation. 

“I am the only one who should be touching you. I want to sink myself into you so badly, this ball cannot be over soon enough.” He whispers gruffly, nipping at your ear lightly. 

You blush a deep crimson, your panties becoming wet at the thought. You had never been with a man, but you could not wait to explore Anthony, and more importantly, let him explore you. “Behave, Anthony, or I myself will not make it through the whole night.” 

Pulling back from you slightly, Anthony studies your face, a glint in his eye. You did not know what this look from him meant, but you supposed you could guess. Anthony leans down to whisper in your ear again. “Mingle a while longer, darling, then meet me in the powder room where you dressed before the ceremony.” You blush again, nodding against him. He holds you at arm’s length and bows, kissing your knuckles while looking directly into your eyes.You hold his gaze, the heat at your center threatening to boil over if he continues to look you over in such a way. 

You turn away from him, letting your fingers slip through his as you move along the crowd, mingling with the guests. You were blissfully happy, excited to have your closest friend as your husband, enamored that he truly had never looked at another since that night in the garden when he confessed his love for you. Smiling to yourself, you glance around slowly, watching your loved ones dance, drink, and speak to one another. You lock eyes with Anthony again, and you notice he had already been watching you. He raises his glass to his lips, quirking an eyebrow at you over the crystal rim. You smirk at him, looking around you before confidently leaving the room to go to the powder room. The chaise lounge was just as you left it, the light floral blue fabric inviting you to sit. 

You sat, nervously patting your hair, using the looking glass to your right to ensure that your makeup was still intact. 

“Thought you could run away from me, hm, Mrs. Bridgerton?” You startle, turning to see Anthony leaning against the door, looking at you hungrily. Your ass bumps into the vanity, the look in his eyes exciting you and making you slightly nervous. “I’m sure Horace wishes he was here in this room with you instead of me.” Anthony scoffs, and you frown. 

“I do not care what Horaces wishes.” 

Anthony approached you, curling a finger under your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. “Good girl.” He says, and you feel that tingling at your sex again, this time more intensely. He seems to notice the change in your mood, because he lifts you up and sets you on the chaise lounge and sinks to his knees in front of you, capturing your lips in a kiss as he does so. 

Smiling into the kiss, you sigh slightly in disappointment as he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. He looked so ready to give at that moment, sat on the floor between your knees. “Are you quite alright with this, darling?” 

You nod, looking into his eyes. “I trust no one more than you, Anthony.” He presses a kiss to your temple before reaching behind you to unbutton your dress. He stands you carefully, helping you out of the pristine white material, and pushes you into a sitting position, even more gently. You were shaking in anticipation, wondering what it would feel like, how Anthony would feel against you and inside you. 

Anthony lays you back gently, spreading your knees apart and looking at you. He stares at your pussy, and you start to wonder if something was wrong. “Is everything alright?” you ask worriedly, and Anthony looks up at the sound of your voice. 

“More than alright. You just have such a pretty little pussy.” He drawls, kissing up your thighs. You squirm, the wetness between your thighs growing. You hear Anthony snicker to himself, and then his mouth is on your cunt, licking gently. You gasp, your hands immediately going to his hair, and Anthony takes this as his signal to lick and suckle more quickly and more firmly. 

“Oh, my god, Anthony.” you moan, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 

Anthony keeps licking, his fingers reaching out to stroke your bud, making your breathing become heavy. He inserts one long digit inside your cunt, looking up to watch your face as he curls his finger inside you, becoming hard at the sight of the ecstasy written across your face. He pulls his finger out of you and you open your eyes, watching as he unsheathes his cock from his pants. You stare, then roam your eyes up as Anthony draws closer, settling himself above you. 

He peppers your face in kisses, sucking at your neck lightly. You writhe a bit and hum, reaching up to run your hands through his hair, but you could not take it anymore, you leaned your head up and captured him in a nasty, tongue and teeth clashing kiss. Your breathing became heavy as you kissed your husband, and you could feel him stroking the head of his throbbing cock along your folds, and the heat and wetness still grew inside you. 

Finally, finally Anthony pushed himself into you, his long fingers grabbing at one of your hips, hard. He gasps slightly, giving you time to adjust before sinking into you entirely, slowly dragging his thick cock in and out, hitting the rough patch inside in an agonizingly slow pace that was making your head swim. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head, and then Anthony picks up pace, pushing into you a bit harder than before. It feels so good that you can’t help but whimper quietly and moan his name over and over again. 

“Viscountess,” he purrs, “I am going to make you feel so good that you will be doing more than just whimpering.” He starts to slam into your hips, and instinctively you buck and roll into him, your pussy clenching tighter and tighter as he continues to pound into your cunt. He had said he was going to sink into you and he had, and you could not be happier about it. You gasp sharply as your core tightens again, and Anthony speeds up, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

“Anthony, I-I…” you stutter, unable to put words to how you were feeling. 

“I know darling, just let go and I will join you.” he whispers, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your eyes explode with stars and you come off of the chaise lounge with an arch in your back. Anthony rides your high with you, pumping into you until he stills, muttering “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good, darling.” 

At last, the two of you are breathlessly lying on the chaise, and Anthony lifts his head, stroking your cheek. “I am honored to have satisfied you, my love. I want nothing more than to make you happy.” 

You smile at him, brushing a piece of hair off of his forehead. “I am blissfully happy.”

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

(Please bear with me through this forthcoming ramble, because I've had all of 6 hours of sleep in the last two days and I'm a bit all over the place. Hopefully this will be coherent 😅)

I don't watch Bridgerton (that's a whole other post that I don't feel like typing out write now), but I've been fascinated by what I've seen on here from this newest season.

I turn 40 this year, and depending on your age you either think that's getting old or you think that I'm still relatively young. I bring this up, because what I'm seeing about Penelope and Colin is honestly something that I never thought I'd see.

Since I was twelve, I've dealt with weight issues. (At this point in my life, I know it's due to PCOS and some other health issues). I am barely 5'0" and typically fit into the 18/20 size clothes.

Being a teen in the late 90s/early 00s meant I didn't see people who looked like me get to be the romantic lead. Girls who looked like me were relegated to being the funny, supportive friend in the background. We got bullied and reminded that we weren't worthy of love or success because of our size. We went to school dances alone and sat on the bleachers while our friends slow-danced with their dates. We didn't get the love story, we got to watch someone else have the love story.

For such a long time I believed that my value as a person was tied to my weight. No matter what I did the weight wouldn't budge. Hell, I'm on Ozempic for my diabetes and I'm starting to think I'm the only person on the planet it doesn't cause weight loss for (it does however do a marvelous job of controlling my blood sugar, and at this point a healthy A1C is the thing that matters most).

I went on a few dates in my 20s with men who used my size as their reason to not continue dating (and yes, they all knew my size when they asked me out). When I started dating my husband, I went into it fully anticipating that no matter how much fun we might have he wouldn't be able to see past my size. I was wrong, and am so grateful for that.

It was only about 2 years ago that I started learning to see that I was far more than my weight. That whether I was my current size or managed to somehow be 100 lbs lighter, I'd still be the same person on the inside. I'd still have the same talents and skills, the same personality and humor. And while I've grown to see & love myself for who I am, it's still a day-by-day thing that I struggle with.

So, seeing this:

And this:

It hits me in a way that is hard to explain. I never thought I'd get to see something like this. Never thought I'd get to see someone my size and shape shown as beautiful and desirable.

Look at this woman, she is absolutely lovely:

I don't really know how to end this because now I'm crying. I guess my main point is that I feel seen and it's been an emotional rollercoaster.

And I may have to turn Netflix back on so I can see this season 😅

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Karma's A Bitch Part 1 (Jamie Tartt x Reader, Enemies to Lovers)

Summary: Idealistic, hopeless romantic Y/N is the new marketing intern at AFC Richmond who instantly tops star player and major asshole Jamie Tartt's shit list for daring to stand up to him.

         Today’s my first day as a marketing intern at AFC Richmond! I really like Keeley already- she’s so nice. She was immediately welcoming to me and even listened to my rant about the newest season of Bridgerton. I think working here is going to be exciting because Jamie Tartt trains here and I’ve had sex fantasies about him ever since I saw him modeling in a champagne ad. I was ecstatic to be placed here because then that meant we can meet and interact and possibly fall in love and reenact my sex dreams.

         I can see the players coming into the building from the field. Oh my God, that means Jamie’s coming! What if he falls in love with me on sight? That wouldn’t happen probably but it’d be so romantic.

         Jamie is wearing his gray practice jersey and grey warm up jacket. He is making the drab colors work for him. 

         When he’s just about to pass me, I say, “Hey, Jamie, I’m Y/N and I just want to say-“

         He brushes right past me, shoving his water bottle into my hands. “Thanks,” he dismisses, not even turning around.

         Well. That dream’s dead now. My cheeks flush with anger and I guess my body reacts before my mind. I don’t think about how this will affect my internship or dealing with him in the future. I just want to make him pay. 

         I catch up to him, seizing his arm and blocking his path.

         His eyes narrow in annoyance. “What do you want?”

         I unscrew the bottle cap. “I used to admire you a lot, but…” I stand on my tiptoes and pour all the water from the bottle onto Jamie’s face. “Not anymore, dickhead.”

         He blinks, looking furious. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you know who I am?”

         “Yes,” I say. “A terrible person who treats people like crap. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. Not how famous you are or how rich you are or how many goals you score and certainly not how hot you are!” I regret saying that last part. 

         “You think I’m hot?” he asks. Then he laughs. “What, are you mad that I’m not falling all over myself for you?”

         “You wish,” I say. “I just think you shouldn’t be rude to interns- or anyone- because you’re some big star.”

         “You’re interning here?” Jamie’s nose wrinkles as if he smells something rancid. Then he draws up. “Then let me tell you how it works around here. You learn respect, you do what I say, and if I want your fucking opinion, I’ll ask.”

         “I’m actually in the marketing department, not your personal assistant. And I’ll respect you when you learn not to be a dick,” I retort. 

         “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” He knocks my shoulder with his before storming off.

         Today I’m handing out schedules to the players about marketing stuff. I barely make eye contact when I get to Jamie, who is chewing gum. I just shove it at him. “This is yours.”

         “Perfect,” Jamie says. “I’ve been looking for a place to put my gum.”

         “How about up your ass?” I say nastily.

         Scorn enters Jamie’s eyes. “I see you still haven’t learned respect, intern.” He takes his wet gum out of his mouth and sticks it into my hand. “Toss this in the trash for me.”

`        What an entitled prick. “In the trash? Sure.” I press his chewed gum into his forehead. By now the whole team is watching. “Is here good?” I taunt. 

         A lot of the other players start laughing. I bet Jamie’s been an ass to all of them at least once, and they love seeing him brought down a peg.

         He looks furious, using the paper his schedule is on to scrape gum off his face. And then he gets right up in mine. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you to stay in your place?” he growls.

         “Maybe this all wouldn’t be happening if you were a nice person. Just a thought. Oh, and you have an interview at 3 tomorrow.” I start to walk away, but Jamie grabs the back of my shirt. 

         “I could make your life really miserable around here if I wanted to,” Jamie says. 

         “Sure, gum-face. Sure,” I say. I leave him seething behind me. 

         This morning I get an email that I have to be in the interview room 25 minutes earlier to “prep Jamie on talking points.”

When I pull open the door of the interview room, I’m showered from head to toe with whipped cream from a bucket hanging over the door. When I wipe my eyes, I see Jamie with a big bucket in his hand.

“You did this,” I spew.

He shrugs. “I thought you needed a makeover,” he says, emptying the bucket’s contents over my head. Which turn out to be feathers. Many, multicolored feathers that because of the whipped cream, stick everywhere. My hair, my face, and all over my body. 

“Jamie!” I shriek furiously while he just looks smug. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” He feigns innocence. “I thought Americans liked this.”

“Okay, Jamie, what is your problem with me?” I demand. “Is it because I’m the only person ever to stand up to you?”

“You think you can talk to me and treat me however you want. You tried to embarrass me in front of my teammates today. You need to get it through your thick skull that you’re just some lowly American intern, and I’m the star player. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“You are so arrogant,” I say. “It’s no wonder your teammates don’t like you.”

“Think I give a shit?” Jamie scoffs. “They all know I’m the best.” He smirks. “And so will that reporter coming.”

My eyes widen. “Oh yeah, the reporter’s coming. Jamie, I guarantee you’ll blow them away.”

He looks confused at this, and I use this moment to tackle him to the floor. “What the fuck?” he demands angrily. Whipped cream is seeping into his jeans and shirt, and some of my feathers are transferring onto his clothes. 

“Well, Jamie, karma’s a bitch, and she’s with you right now,” I say.

He glares at me. “You stupid twat. You ruined my outfit for my interview!”

“You ruined mine first!” I shoot back. “Like you say, you’re so much more important than me. Maybe you’ll make this look the new trend.”

“Piss off,” Jamie says, his eyes blazing. 

“You ensured that I would get embarrassed on the Tube today. Thought I’d return the favor,” I spit.

“This is a national magazine,” Jamie says through clenched teeth. “It’s not the same and you know it. I’ll get you back for this.”

I scowl. “As if this prank wasn’t entirely your fault. But fine. You want a war? You’ve got one.”

A/N: Hi guys!!! I wrote this after getting super pissed off (in a good way) after reading a snippet of another Jamie Tartt fanfic on here, so I used like 3 lines from there to inspire this story and put my own unique spin on it. Also yes I had Y/N quote that song Jojo Siwa made famous and Brit Smith ~bodied~. She's such a girlboss, and I love seeing her put Jamie in his place. I also love writing slow burns!!

[laurenairay]

Costume party - L. Draisaitl

Summary: finding the perfect couples costume was turning out to be harder than you thought.

The sixth of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! There’s no way Leon isn’t the most competitive about costumes.

Word Count: 631 words

Tagging: @fallinallincurls @starshine-hockey-girl @lam-ila @kurlyteuvo @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

One of your favourite times of the year was Halloween. It always had been, but ever since you started dating Leon, it was one of the highlights of your social calendar. The team party especially was always so much fun, mainly because of the costume competition.

Well, competition was a loose term. There were no prizes, no official judging, but it was a matter of pride among the team, and this meant you (and the rest of the WAGs) got swept along into it.

Leon was particularly competitive (who could’ve guessed), and as always he wanted to be the best. And look the best, naturally.

The two of you had spent weeks deciding on your couples costume. There were initially ideas of going as a big group costume with multiple other people, or in a small group costume with Connor and Lauren, but in the end it boiled down to the two of you doing things by yourselves, which was more than fine with you.

Leon had been particularly picky this year though, crossing off ideas from your list with ruthless abandon:

Mario and Princess Peach.

Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington

Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz

Barbie and Ken

Elizabeth Swan and Will Turner

Jessie and Woody

All of them were decent ideas, and you know the two of you could have easily pulled them off, but your boyfriend wanted something that he knew for certain no-one else on the team would do. Which is how you ended up with your final choice - Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. Leon’s sister had been ranting about having to watch Tangled on repeat thanks to her children, and the idea had struck a chord with Leon, and it hadn’t taken much to persuade you.

Leon had ordered a dark green tunic, billowing white shirt, loose brown pants, and mid-shin high brown boots from a professional costume maker. Apparently he’d used her in previous years through Etsy and now ordered directly. So naturally you’d put in your order with the same costume maker, ordering a pale lilac corset dress with beautiful ribbon detail as well as flower and vine stitching on the shoulder-puff sleeves and hem. On your own you’d found a realistic long blonde wig that you’d arranged for the maker to braid with flowers, as well as buying some lilac silk ballet pumps and a plastic saucepan to hang at your waist. It wasn’t too over the top, but you felt like you’d put in enough effort to get the compliments you deserved. The two of you were going to look amazing together, you knew that much. Especially as Leon had grown out his hair a little to give it that swoopy Disney effect.

“How do I look, liebling?”

You glanced over your shoulder, a wide smile instantly spreading across your face as you turned around to face him properly. Leon was leaning against the doorway all nonchalant, but you could tell his eyes were serious about your approval.

“Very dashing, Flynn. Or should I say Eugene?” you teased.

Leon just laughed, a note of relief sliding in, and he strode forward to peck a kiss to your lips, letting it linger as you tilted your head up.

“You look amazing, just so you know,” he murmured.

“I’d better. This wig and this corset dress took long enough to arrive,” you mused, fighting the heat that rose to your cheeks.

Leon took your hand, stepping backward just enough to spin you around under his arm, making you laugh as you twirled, lilac skirt flaring out perfectly.

“Amazing. Beautiful. Du siehst perfekt aus,” he said smoothly.

Charmer.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned.

“Good to know,” he grinned back, knowing full well what complimenting you in German resulted in.

“Shall we kick some costume party ass then, Flynn?”

“Absolutely, Rapunzel.”

[a-swamp-creature]

goddamn like….

there was an extremely sus “bridgerton ball” held downtown this last weekend that turned out to be a dashcon-level scam. probably couldve guessed that from the ads/website being littered w spelling errors, but anyway…listing a few of the things i know of:

-it was supposed to happen last month but the organizers (Uncle & Me Events) sold 1500 tickets for a venue w a max capacity of 450. Venue cancelled, of course. Organizers sent out one (1) email two days before the thing was supposed to happen. A lot of ppl didn’t even see the email so people were showing up to an empty venue in downtown Detroit wearing regency-era ballgowns. Security apparently told some of them that the event was a scam but idk how true that is. Anyway it was rescheduled at a new venue for a month later.

-valet parking was promised, not delivered. parking downtown is a pain in the ass in general but these people were also wearing ballgowns lmao

-nobody checking tickets at the door. there was a tiered pricing scale for tickets starting at $100 and going up to $1000 (a fool and his fukkin money i s2g) so all these ppl from the suburbs who paid hundreds/THOUSANDS of dollars to be treated like VIPs were pissed

-because nobody was checking tickets, people were just kind of wandering in off the street lmaaaaoooo so ppl were just kind of milling around in normal clothes eating the buffet, which leads me to…

-the food was bad: pasta w marinara, canned green beans, meatballs, and undercooked/raw chicken wings. people were expecting a sit down meal apparently? but I think that might just be the expectations of ppl more accustomed to tea parties than actual large scale events - ain’t no way they were ever going to do full-service dinner for 1500 people. it was always going to be a buffet.

-NO ALCOHOL lmaaaoooo the event info said open bar, there wasn’t even a cash bar. no shit, they had water and “mocktails”. check out the menu:

ITS ALL LEMONADE LMAAAOOOO but wait!!! ppl who bought VIP tickets also got hawaiian punch !!!

-see the tablecloth in that pic? the decorations were bad. like dollar store bad.

-they were supposed to have a bunch of different activities: dance lessons, costume contests, carriage rides. neither of the first two happened. the carriage rides did, but you had to pay extra and they only did them for three hours. again, 1500 people.

-that’s not to say there was no entertainment. they had a dj playing pretty standard birthday party dj fare: the hustle, cha cha slide. he also played hiphop which really upset a lot of the ppl larping as wealthy colonizers for SOME reason 🤔 disclaimer: i assume they were expecting classical music but a looooot of people specifically complained about the hiphop

- oh there was also a single exotic dancer stationed in the middle of an empty room. i am not joking. im not in the business of posting photos of strangers but the photos are out there and they’re tragic. this poor woman just took a gig and ended up with a bunch of middle class pearl clutchers complaining abt her on fb. that being said, my understanding is bridgerton is smut for ppl who want to pretend they’re above watching porn so idg why a dancer is such a big fucking deal, just sit down and watch ffs. oh wait-

-there was nowhere to sit lmao

-and no refunds

seems pretty clear that after overselling and losing the first venue, the organizers lost all their vendor contracts and had to scramble to have anything at all. could’ve just cancelled. btw the no refunds thing included if it was cancelled - they’ll just credit you for the next event lol

now listen. i do feel bad. I don’t think anyone deserved this really. I DO find it very funny that a bunch of of ppl who can afford $1000 tickets to dress up in expensive costumes and pretend to be aristocrats got scammed big time by Detroit.