#this is bridgerton ffs!

[ayashiki-i-i]

Ok but how does a show that has "deformed bunny" and "Georgie be a good boy and approve your brothers' marriages" and "virgins to the left of me, whores to the right" and "the gesture has short legs" and "I do not remember names I am female" and "sorrows, prayers" and "do you like being the bishop of Canterbury" also has "I care not for his sanity I care for his happiness" and "my heart calls your name" and "I am brand new" and "a lifetime" and "I'm not coming inside because I am not here" and "you have half a husband" and "I found a way to control my own faith" and most importantly "YOU DID NOT GO OVER THE WALL" I can't please Shonda stop! This show has range and that range ended with me sobbing so much I gave myself a dehydration headache.

[hazzashouse]

The Weight of a Name PART I

Author’s Note: This was my first attempt at writing for Anthony Bridgerton, and I loved delving into his intensity and passion. I’m considering writing a part two—let me know if you’d like to see where this story goes!

Triggers: Emotional confrontation, feelings of rejection, societal pressure

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,703

Summary: When Anthony Bridgerton’s relentless pursuit of you reaches its breaking point, a fiery confrontation reveals the depths of his feelings.

PART TWO: here

The soft hum of violins and lilting laughter echoed throughout the ballroom. It was a scene of perfection, one carefully orchestrated by the host to impress even the most critical members of the ton. You moved with grace, your every step measured and deliberate, but your mind was far from composed.

Anthony Bridgerton was watching you.

You had felt his eyes on you all evening, and no matter how hard you tried to shake the weight of his gaze, it lingered. It wasn’t just that he watched—it was the way he looked at you. As if he already had you. As if his claim was inevitable.

But Anthony Bridgerton wasn’t the kind of man you trusted easily. His reputation was whispered about behind fans and through veiled glances. He was handsome, yes, and powerful, but he was also dangerous. The stories of his past were enough to make even the boldest debutantes wary.

You had no intention of falling for a man like him.

————————

Later that evening, you had sought refuge on the balcony, eager for a moment of quiet. The cool air kissed your skin as you inhaled deeply, savoring the temporary escape. But your peace was short-lived.

“You’re avoiding me.”

The low, irritated voice made you stiffen. You turned to find Anthony standing just beyond the balcony doors, his jaw set and his dark eyes locked on you.

“I wasn’t aware I was obligated to seek you out,” you replied evenly, though your voice betrayed a hint of exasperation.

Anthony stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “You know precisely what I mean,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve been trying to speak with you all evening, but you’ve been too busy entertaining every other man in this room.”

Your temper flared, and you straightened your spine. “Perhaps that’s because every other man in this room doesn’t believe he has some divine right to my attention.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed, and he took another step closer. “Is that truly what you think of me?” he asked, his voice low but seething.

“What else am I to think?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You stride into every room as if the world should bow at your feet, as if no one could possibly resist the great Viscount Bridgerton. Well, I’m not one of your conquests, my lord, and I won’t be treated as such.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. But then he stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “You think I’m trying to conquer you? That this is some sort of game to me? I have been chasing you for months. I’ve ignored every other debutante, turned down every match my mother has pushed my way, and still, you look at me as if I’m nothing more than a rogue.”

Your chest heaved as his words hit their mark. “And why shouldn’t I?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you deny it? Do you deny the countless women, the scandalous liaisons, the reputation you’ve so carefully crafted? How am I to believe you would ever honor a vow made to me when you’ve broken so many others?”

Anthony flinched, and for a moment, his mask slipped. There was pain in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. “I am not proud of my past,” he said quietly. “But you—you’ve made me want to be better. To be more than what they say I am.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “And I’m supposed to believe that? Because you’ve paid me a few compliments and danced with me a handful of times? Forgive me, my lord, but I’ve seen how easily you charm others. I won’t be another name on your list.”

Anthony’s temper snapped, and he grabbed your wrist—not harshly, but firmly enough to stop you from walking away. “You don’t understand what you’re doing to me,” he said, his voice rough and urgent. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything but you. Every time I see you with another man, it feels like a knife to my chest. And yet, you look at me as if I’m nothing, as if I’m unworthy of even your consideration.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. His grip on your wrist softened, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he continued, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “To feel so completely undone by someone. To want them so desperately, so utterly, and to know they see you as nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you refused to let them fall. “Do you think this is easy for me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Do you think I enjoy rejecting you, knowing I might be giving up on something—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “But I can’t ignore the part of me that’s terrified you’ll hurt me. That I’ll wake up one day and realize I was nothing more than a passing infatuation to you.”

Anthony stared at you, his chest heaving. “You think I would hurt you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything I’ve done to prove myself to you?”

“What have you done, Anthony?” you demanded, your voice rising again. “You’ve watched me from across ballrooms and interrupted my dances, but have you ever truly shown me who you are? Or are you still hiding behind the charm and arrogance that the ton has come to expect from you?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Anthony’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re right,” he said finally, his voice trembling with restraint. “You don’t know who I am. But that’s because you’ve never given me the chance to show you.”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice, but you refused to back down. “Perhaps I would have, if I believed you were capable of being the man I need.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then he stepped back, his expression hardening into one of cold resolve. “You’ll regret this,” he said quietly, his voice laced with both pain and anger. “You’ll regret not taking the chance when you had it.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone on the balcony with your heart pounding and your hands shaking.

As you stared after him, a single thought echoed in your mind.

Had you made a mistake?

————————

PART TWO: here

[polinsated]

colin, baby.. read the room

[leejungjaes]

i can't fucking cope with colin being like "no one blackmails my wife!" and then returning hours later like "so....i made everything worse...she now wants £20,000 and penelope to restore her reputation. lol my bad!"

[sugaldean]

Let Charlotte legalise gay marriage in one of the seasons to come.

She ended racism with her love for the king surely she can end homophobia as well

[wikitpowers]

kitty bridgerton au in which johnny tries to force kit into marriage with livia blackthorn but instead the only person kit has eyes for is her quiet, gorgeous brother, tiberius blackthorn…. i need it now

oh and livvy would totally try to set them up

[dollypopup]

hm. idk, maybe the reason Luke Newton isn't announcing new projects or posting any Bridgerton content is because some of you demons treated him like hot trash instead of a creative that you wanted more work from and he decided fuck it, this isn't worth the stress. you know, like a lot of creatives who get mistreated do?

like this is a man who went from couch surfing in a friend's house and bartending to make ends meet, deciding that the Bridgerton audition was the last one he'd do before he quit, to suddenly being recognized on the street because that last audition propelled him to star in a global show where fans who have zero media comprehension blamed him for his character's actions and literally stalked him at any hotel he happens to stay at. he went from being a dude doing musical theatre and shopping at thrift stores and recording random songs with friends and posting silly memes on Twitter to being harassed on his only social media page and his friends insulted and his partners bullied by his supposed 'fans' and anything he posts being so microanalyzed that he can't do a damn thing without someone coming out the woodwork screaming about how he's the WORST and won't he think of the FANS!?

like damn he can't have a girlfriend without being harassed, he can't travel without being harassed, he can't like or not like social media posts without being harassed, he can't post a fucking MEME without being harassed, he can't take a vacation or cut his hair or hold someone's hand or just live his life without being blamed for some bullshit or another. but yeah, okay, 'when will Luke Newton come back?' as if it isn't your fault he's AWOL now

[bellessimaa]

No but hear me out, Kanthony in India could be quite the story.

Anthony Bridgerton in a kurta! Him seeing Kate in a saree or lehenga because lets face it, the man will lose whatever braincells he had left and simply disintegrate.

The only problem with the writers trying to send Kanthony away to India is the timing of it. Edwina is already married and Kate is with child. After the trauma of Hyacinth’s birth, nothing on earth can convince me that Anthony Bridgerton would willingly let his wife take a hazardous six month journey back to India. Tha just doesn’t make sense.

Another thing that does not make sense woth the timeline is that, if Edwina made a match in India, it must have been while Kate and Anthony were on their honeymoon and I’m sorry but how on earth do you expect me to believe that Kate would miss her little sister’s wedding?

It is all tempting me to write again, something like a fix it where Kate and Anthony embark on a journey to India, because Edwina is supposed to get married, maybe to someone from the maharaja’s court because why not?

Kate leaves for India, but with her endearing, besotted husband who worships the grounds she walks on. They come to India and they do all the things that we are craving to see on screen (Anthony in Kurta? Another sneaky, playful haldi ceremony in the privacy of their rooms? Another mehendi ceremony because ofcourse Kate will have Anthony’s name sneakily written on her hands in hindi? Vexing one another? Potentially some old suitors of Kate, just to make Anthony sweat? Her taking him to all the spots of her childhood, just the way he did in Aubrey hall? Babymaking? Recieving the happy news firsthand?)

Anyway this list will never end. I dont know if we would get a spin off or not, but I might just get around to writing this.

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

I've been trying to phrase things eloquently and I really can't so here you go. Part two really felt like it was trying have its cake and eat it as well in a lot of ways, and it really didn't work.

You give Cressida a whole redemption arc and friendship and put her in an impossible situation and humanise and make you sympathise with her, then want me to hate her again?

You show how Pen uses LW as a coping mechanism and how it's not good for her or those around her and not have her drop it?

You want LW revealed to the ton but no real consequences?

You double down on how Pens family treat her only to have them all come together and be forgiven at the end?

You sideline Colin in his own damn season and butcher Penelope so badly I almost wanted less of her as well?

You can't have everything. Not in such a short time span at least, and it really suffer from it. If you wanted to give Cressida more depth and expend on her role why was she tossed away like nothing at the end? Why did Eloise abandon her? Why was she treated as awful in part two after being put in an actual horror show of a situation? I know they needed the blackmail plot but you can't just give her depth, make her the antagonist and then drop her storyline in the drain that's not how that works. That's not complexity that's laziness, and laziness they created mind you.

They didn't have to write Cressida the way they did this season, if they wanted to make it easy they could have had her marry off screen between seasons to a rich man, they could have had Eloise befriending her be a mistake and had a different arc there, they could have had her LW claim be for any number of reasons, and her blackmail because she still has it out for Penelope. They added this to the story, and as much as I was sceptical at first (I have seen far too many botched bully redemptions) I was glad they did it aded a lot of depth and character interaction, it created some interesting parallels between Cressida and Penelope and seeing Eloise in a different, less intimate friendship with someone who, ironically, is a lot more open with her was interesting. Incomplete, but interesting. It was good, or it could have been. But you can't just turn like that and have it still work. You can't just have Eloise abandon her and have it treated as the right thing to do. You can't leave her with that ending and consider it a happy one. You can't have your cake and eat it too. You didn't create a complex antagonist, you created a scared lost girl who was cruel because she was taught to be and you left her to burn.

You could have had Penelope and Cressida talk to each other, could have explored the ways the mirror and the ways they differ. You could have had Penelope struggle, but untimely empathise with Cressida and help her out, she could have forgiven her for her years of torment because she of all people understands why she did it. You could have had her forgiveness mirror Colin and Eloise forgiving her for LW. You could have looked at how Cressida's openness helped her friendship with Eloise and how Penelope might start to incorporate it. About how by nature of Cressida's openness Eloise is learning to see other perspectives and listen more even if she still has work. You could have done so much with female friendship and camaraderie and empathy and you just... didn't.

The Lady Whistledown this season was just... I think I have a thesis which is most of my thoughts on Polin.

Whistledown was meant to be the subplot to the Polin storyline, not the other way around.

Putting aside my own wishes to have her end Whistledown for her character and for her and Colins relationship, and her love of Colin, her continuing it isn't unexpected I was afraid of this and thought it might happen even if it's lazy. If that was it and if it was handled better I think I could begrudgingly live with it. But it's not. Not only was it handled so so poorly it was the whole second part and for what? Part one was Polin. Part two was Lady Whistledown drama with some cute Polin moments sprinkled in-between with some mandatory angst. Tell me the resolution to Colins arc now. Quickly. You can't he didn't have one, we barley even saw him through Episode seven and eight. There is so much romance in your purpose being the person you love, IF and only IF, it's reciprocal. Penelope literally says in season two, when she has been Whistledown for over a bloody year that she hasn't found her purpose yet. They were meant to find each other. To both have their writing as their passion and creativity and fulfilment, not Whistledown, but her manuscripts, his stories from around the word their joint and secret words. But their centre, their purpose, their guiding light was always meant to be each other. It's what kept Penelope sitting at that window, it's what draw Colin to her at every ball. They had all the potential and set up to be the most beautiful, genuine, heartfelt relationship. But no.

Colin deserved to be angry. The woman he loves has lied, has hurt him, has his from him after all the times he was venerable with her and so, so much more. They deserved to argue. Penelope deserved to be more upset over this than crying in the moment and walking past him later. That's the man she loves, who she thinks hates her, who she know if he did hate her she would deserve it and she wouldn't blame him for a second. They deserved time and space and Colin deserved explanations and apologies. They deserved a later, happier wedding, they both deserved to have their feelings heard and said and listened too. Is that not the core of their relationship? Listening to and seeing each other? Would that not lay the groundwork for some really good well earned conflict and a really rewording resolution? The groundwork was all there that's what's killing me. The set up was all there for something so good which is why I was excited. I know screen time is limited, I know there is only so many emotional conversations you can have on screen, but Bridgerton primarily just people talking on conversations, when it's there bloody season surely they can space out the conversations that need to happen in a way that works with pacing. And to be honest, the screen time defence only works when the screen time that they did have was allocated well. And I'm not taking subplots. Even if I think a few could have been trimmed, the screen time Polin did get was just used so so badly. Colin got dust and that didn't even feel like Penelope had the time, just a mouth piece for the writers.

Rapid fire stuff because I need to expand on the above in more detail later lol.

The acting was flawless give everyone on that set their flowers.

I really like the Mondrich's and seem to be the only one who likes seeing them lol, their sweet and always a good time they just need a better storyline, or you know, one that actually has a resolution.

Not what I would have done for Benedict and I still want to see him look at art again but let's hope season 4 is better lol.

Don't like the way Penelope's family stuff was done, specifically Portia but it is what I thought would happen. Disappointed but not surprised. I'm biased tho so I won't speak on it too much. I lose too much objectivity.

Hate hate hate the baby thing tho, it was fine as a subplot with her sisters but her having the boy was predictable and also dear god the girls nineteen for fucks sake. No. Hated that.

Francesca the absolute love of my life. I adore her and John, I liked the conflicted with Violet, loved everything about her storyline this season she was perfect, my favourite part honestly lol. Also Michaela Stirling get behind me NOW. Sapphic Bridgerton fans truly are the bravest soldiers cause istg. Also I don't trust this fandom with any actor or actresses period but especially not a Black actress who's "ruining" your favourite storyline. So I will be greatly enjoying everything I see of all three of them Francesca John and Michaela, while watching with a sharp eye for any bullshit.

Kate, also the love of my life it was so lovely to have her back even if just for a bit. Wish they did more with Anthony especially him and Colin tho, but again, wasn't expecting much more. I do wish they would write them out with a bit more subtly tho it's getting almost funny how obvious it is.

The Violet, Marcus, Lady Danbury plot I didn't actually mind. Could have been trimmed a bit but it was good seeing the adults in more depth, I haven't watched queen Charlotte tho so I kinda feel like I missed some things.

Overall, I liked certain parts of this season I really did, especially if I fully ignore the context, and I'm happy for everyone who enjoyed it truly, but it was have an entirely different ending in my head. I'll definitely write about at some point but who knows if anyone wants to see that lol.

[lapelduide]

SAY IT LOUDER NICOLAA

[alphabetboyluvr]

dance with the devil | jjk

REQUEST | jktaee3 on wp

VIBES | angst, royalty - bridgerton vibes, childhood friends to enemies to ?luvrs?

SOUNDTRACK | die for you - joji

HOLLY'S NOTE | (originally posted april 2023) so fun facts, i've never watched bridgerton. i actually put it on in the background as i was writing, which is where the lil line about being diamond comes from. i also do fuck all world-building in this, so just... use your imagination lol. i have no idea if this is like... correct? i dont read nor write period pieces and haven't done since school so.... go easy on me hahaha <33

also!! went for jeongguk instead of jungkook. feels more dramatic? time appropriate?? idk! mix of eng and Korean inspo for titles / locations!!

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

There are easily a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk into the ballroom. Maybe more. The room is grand, gilded in gold—grotesque in its display of wealth, but nothing new to you. You've been in a dozen rooms like this within the last month alone. More money than taste—but you can't buy class.

Despite the influx of unwelcome stares, there's just one you can actually feel. It comes from a pair of deep brown eyes in the corner of the room; a glass of red in one hand, the gloved fingers of your least favourite cousin in the other.

Dark and brooding, Jeon Jeongguk has no right to look at you in the way that he does. Duke of Busan, womaniser of more counties than you care to imagine, he's troubled wrapped up in a waistcoat and ruby-encrusted signet rings.

But you've always liked trouble. Shame.

The grip that Lord Min of Daegu has on your hand tightens. He can notice it too; Jeongguk's stare. Your satin gloves are silky against Lord Min's skin, and he must admit he enjoys being the focus of Jeon Jeongguk's envy. He thinks it's about time that the over-egotistical tyrant of hearts had his comeuppance.

"Remember," Lord Min whispers quietly to you as the crowd watches on. He's a trusted confidant; not suited for marriage. At least not with you. It's the county's worst-kept secret that he retires to the boudoir with Master Park each and every evening. No one at the ball is under any illusion that he is a suitor of yours. "You're a diamond in a mine of sapphires."

"Oh, but sapphires are far prettier than diamonds," you pout, voice dulcet as you scan the room. It's approaching your birthday, and time is running out. A suitor needs to be found, and found promptly. Too much time squandered on frivolous pursuits during your youth had prevented such a search.

It's something you're reminded of whenever your eyes catch Jeongguk's. Endless days spent under beating midsummer sunshine; burnt skin and freckled cheeks. Youth well-spent. Youth wasted.

"So? It matters not." Lord Min smiles. "Diamonds are far stronger. Sharper. And still just as exquisite as sapphires. Do not sell yourself short."

And by that, you know exactly what he implies: steer clear of the Duke of Busan.

It would be a fruitless endeavour. No good would come from it.

Years of your childhood had been spent in a whimsical land with him, full of castles and fairies, and witches and warlocks. Potions had been made in his garden using his mother's best perfumes and items stolen from the pantry; make-believe scenarios came to life in the forest between your family's estates.

Summers had been frittered away together by the sea; Winterton Manor the backdrop of your dreams, your hopes, your fears.

But the Duke did as Dukes so often do; embroiled himself in debauchery and distasteful pleasures.

You had watched on, bemused for the most part, and also intrigued by what compelled him.

Had you not been enough?

Grapevines whisper, and Jeongguk had spent far too much time frolicking in vineyards. Drunk on the delights of his youth, he'd forgotten that there would be life beyond the present.

It's a price he pays, now. A debt he hadn't realised he had racked up.

One that he's reminded of every single time you glance his way. He cannot afford a diamond.

Somehow, however, he can seem to afford the audacity of approaching you in the powder room towards the end of the evening.

You've had lacklustre dances with half a dozen bachelors, and they've all been uninspiring. Only two of them managed to make it through the waltz without stepping on your toes.

Time is running out.

And Jeongguk?

He's running in circles trying to get you out of his head.

Seems apt that he'd bump into you at some point.

Not like he sought you out. Not at all.

Not like he handed the maids by the staircase a few silver coins to divert other partygoers elsewhere, either. He wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.

The Duke of Busan knows you well.

Knows that it takes all of your might to not glance in his direction as he makes his presence known.

"Really?" He asks with a cocked brow and arrogant smirk, leaning against the doorframe. You're preening at your hair. Making sure your pins remain in place. "That's what you chose to wear? To a ball of this grandeur?"

You're wearing white. It's tight against your chest. Too tight. Pleated beneath the satin ribbon under your bust, encrusted with sequins and finished with lace. It's beautiful. Matches the white satin gloves that finish just above the crease of your elbow. You carry yourself with elegance.

In fact, your posture is so well-poised that Jeongguk is the only attendee of the ball who has noticed the split in your skirt. When stood, it is hidden by the pleats. When dancing, it is camouflaged by the lace. When you lift your skirt to meander up the stairs? He becomes reacquainted with the curve of your ankle. The split is no larger than the length of a letter inviting him to tea, but it feels overwhelmingly large.

As far as the Duke is concerned, you may as well be wearing lingerie.

You smooth the skirt of your dress and consider rearranging your tits just to give him something to stare at. You decide against it. Think he would enjoy it far too much.

"Oh precisely," you respond with an equally arrogant grin, before turning to face him. You're haughty in the way you position your body, almost as if you're trying to entice him. "Haven't you heard? I've a suitor to find."

He scoffs. "And you think dressing like a whore is going to find you one of any value?"

A whore.

Very rich of him, you think, as if the entire party doesn't know what he gets up to in the dark. And the daylight. And just about any time of the day, actually.

What they really don't know?

That he used to get up to it with you.

"Absolutely not," you smile. Your father might want you married off, but there's no suitor here for you. Not tonight. If you have to bring a man home, it unquestionably has to be one that your father won't approve of. "That's the point—although, now I come to think of it—this dress did seem to find you, didn't it, Jeongguk?"

He stays quiet for a moment. He doesn't enjoy you being correct. It's part of the reason you bicker so much. You're always correct.

"White really isn't your colour," he tells you with an ambivalent shrug. "We both know that."

Innocence. Purity. Virginity.

For once, The Duke is correct. It really isn't your colour.

Humorous, how he's dressed head to toe in black. Perhaps you should be, too.

"And green isn't yours," you tease, walking towards him. "Yet you seemed to be full of it when I entered the ballroom with the Lord of Daegu."

He remains silent. Can sense you have more to declare.

"Moreover," you hum, proving him right as you pause beside him, "as I'm sure you're well aware, Duke, it's the colour beneath the dress that counts."

"And what is beneath the dress?" Jeongguk husks, not looking over towards you. He doesn't want to let you know how much you affect him, still.

"The same lace that greeted you last summer in the stables of Winterton Manor."

Red. Fuck.

His favourite.

"Tell me, Duke," you tease. He deserves it, you think. "Does the Viscount of Gwangju like red?"

"Hoseok?" Jeongguk scoffs, addressing him by name, not title. The lack of respect shown by the young Duke is asinine, truly. A show of his immaturity. "Despises it."

Truthfully, he has no idea of Viscount of Gwangju's preferences.

"Good," you taunt. "I'm enthralled by the prospect of a challenge."

Jeongguk will be damned if you end up betrothed to the Viscount of fucking Gwangju.

"He concedes easily," he says. This is another lie. He just doesn't want to give you any further ideas. "Do not expect a challenge. Anticipate disappointment."

"Oh, but Duke," you laugh and it's so exquisite that he thinks he might just melt. "Disappointment has always been your forte, has it not?"

During the balls of recent years, where Jeongguk would only ever offer his hand to other women, and never you? Yes. Disappointing.

In the smoky parlours, where he laughs and jokes with the other gentlemen, about which debutantes are simply destined to become spinsters? Oh, incredibly disappointing.

In the drawing room adjacent to his bedroom, while you had waited beneath his sheets for his return, as he was agreeing to court your cousin instead of you? Perhaps the most disappointing he'd ever been.

It's been a year—the worst of your life.

"You've made your bed, Duke. Sleep in it."

"I've tried," he says sternly. He doesn't want to joke any more. Doesn't want to flirt. "I cannot bear to sleep in it without you."

You shake your head. Such a devil.

"You seem well rested enough."

"It's a facade."

And you find yourself quite annoyed; frustrated by his apparent disdain for a life he chose. A destiny brought upon you both by his inability to be discreet—though you're unaware of this caveat.

You see, everyone does know of his reputation, but he always kept your pursuits of passion hidden. Private. To the world, you're pristine.

"What do you require, Duke? My pity?"

He knows he doesn't deserve it.

"I require nothing of you."

"Then seek me out no longer. Do not pursue what you cannot commandeer, Jeongguk."

It's a lesson he would have done well to learn many moons ago; one remembered by you even if it was lost on him.

And yet, at quarter past twelve, as he loosens the black satin bow of his collar in his bedroom, Jeongguk pauses.

A knock has just sounded at his door. His chambermaid, he assumes, just checking on the fire—or maybe Master Park's chambermaid, instead (though Jeongguk's business with Master Park's staff isn't ever entirely 'business').

Regretfully, he thinks it could be Lord Kim Namjoon of Ilsan, here to reprimand him for his manners. His mentor in all fashions, Namjoon is always the first to discipline the young Duke following his nights of debauchery—though all things considered, he feels he's been quite well-behaved tonight.

He sighs as he rests a palm flat against his bedpost, and bellows, "Enter."

A sternness settles on his brows, hard and uncompromising, as he turns to the door. There's a dishevelled nature to his hair, undone and falling slightly over his dark eyes. His loosened collar and unbuttoned waistcoat only aid to make him look even more rugged.

He's marred in vulnerability, though. His pretty pink lips rest ajar, as his eyes fall on the intruder of his thoughts.

Amusing, you think, how the bedroom is where he domineers best, and yet is always where he seems the most unfortified.

Perhaps he hadn't been lying about his facade.

Perhaps he really doesn't sleep well without you.

Perhaps—just perhaps—you might indulge him one last time.

"Tell me, Duke"— You walk into his room and close the door behind you, eyes not leaving his —"Do any of them compare?"

He watches you strut past him and crawl on the luxe quilt on his bed. Oh, how you've missed it.

"Any of who?"

"The maids," you shrug. You aren't naive. You know exactly what he does, and who he does it with. "Master Park's maids? Surely Lord Kim's, too. And the working girls. The debutantes—need I go on?"

"No," he says, watching as you loosen your heels and kick them to the floor. They land with a thud. He knows the noise will have echoed throughout the house. "You needn't."

The truth of the matter is that his escapades are well-known amongst high society. He has a reputation, which is why his courtship with your cousin was forced upon him.

You're surely too good for him, but he's of too much value to remain without an heir.

A marriage is needed for him before the end of the year. His father says so.

Contrarily, your father would never agree to the Duke of Busan proclaiming you as his Dutchess.

Jeongguk knows this, for he's already asked.

Of course he has.

Last spring. Kept his mother's ring in his pocket just in case. A proposal was planned for early summer, before your trip to Paris.

He thought perhaps he would go with you—a pre-honeymoon, maybe—but your father had refused his request for your hand, and who was Jeongguk to go against the will of the man who had raised you?

Jeongguk won't burden you with this knowledge. Your life will be far more fruitful if you remain silently furious with him for never giving you what you deserved.

"And do they?" You enquire once more. unaware of his anguish. "Do they compare?"

Jeongguk leans down to his boots. Unties his laces and stands on his heels to remove them. He kicks them away. Is just as undressed as you are. Equal.

"Do you think my bed would be empty right now if they did?"

"It isn't empty," you tease.

"No," he acknowledges. "But it has been. It's been empty for months."

"Months?"

You don't believe him.

"I've had an empty bed since I returned from Winterton last summer," he declares.

"Though your hands have been full?" You sneer, painfully reminded of the way he'd held the hand of another woman in the ballroom that evening. You've had to bear witness to it on multiple occasions by now. It never gets any easier. Your fucking cousin, of all people.

"Pay no mind to the fact my hands have not been empty in ballrooms," he speaks quietly, shame washing over his features. Yes, it would be far more desirable if you were to be furious with him, but he wants to alleviate the hurt that you are quite clearly encumbered with. "As I said, it's a facade."

"Why? What are you hiding, Duke?"

As if you don't know—he laments—that I'm utterly besotted with you.

He glances away from you to watch the fire as it crackles in his hearth. He wonders if it would be less painful to tear his heart from his chest and roast it in the flames, than it is to be in love with you.

"I hide nothing from you," he says with a broad smile as he turns to face you once more. Jeongguk is adept at falsifying his discretions. "But I am without at a dance."

You grin, now. "A dance?"

"I'd love one," he smirks as he holds out his hand. He twists your words almost as elegantly as he used to twist you around on empty ballroom floors; just two of you after the parties had died down and the revellers had hung up their dancing shoes.

He strides to the side of the bed. Satisfaction sinks into his features when your gloved hand slips into his palm. He pulls you up. Pulls you closer. Rests a hand upon your waist and positions himself perfectly for you. He was raised a gentleman after all, even if grew up to be a rogue.

"May I have this dance?" He says quietly, only needing to whisper.

You're so close you probably count the beat of his heart.

One, two.

Does anyone dance better than I do?

Three, four.

Do you lose your breath when someone else draws you closer?

Five, six.

I could dance with you forever.

Seven, eight.

Would that be agreeable?

Nine, ten.

As if you can read his thoughts, you just nod.

"You may."

[thelesbianluthor]

What's a Kanthony fanfic that you think it's a MUST READ ? Fyi I love me some angst and I prefer to read complete stuff to be on the safe side

I have been reading some lately but I would love some recommendations

[leejungjaes]

them: you ok?

me: no i've not listened to colin's love confession since the 13th because it makes me cry but i thought id test myself and listen again and i started to sob like a baby like wtf why is it so good the fucking basking in your light smooth bastard i hate this show so much

them: really?

me: no

[darlingpeasant]

Istg… if I see another “oh I’m so upset Luke and Nicola aren’t together how could they do this to us, how dare they, this is awful” post I’m gonna throw fucking hands

Shipping characters together is great, amazing, wonderful, etc, etc but real people??? Man it’s just so icky… like… stop?

Don’t get me wrong, the two have great chemistry and obviously care very much for each other but that doesn’t automatically mean oh, they’re dating. Having a strong and meaningful friendship is just as important and it is clear that’s what they have…

They are two of my favourite people, they have amazing energy, they’re chaotic, they’re funny and just very very sweet. But I’m not gonna throw my weight around because Luke has a girlfriend and has ‘betrayed’ Nicola and the fandom??? That is insane behaviour…

And once again, their private lives have NOTHING to do with us, they don’t owe us ANYTHING

[statustemporary]

take my hand, take a breath

SUMMARY: Viscount Bridgerton was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first.

//

Or Lady Danbury notices Kate has given them the slip during the Conservatory Ball and she finds her charge having a conversation with the viscount in the garden.

RATING: General Audiences

WORD COUNT: 1,760 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conservatory Ball AU, First Dance, no beta we die like edmund bridgerton

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhh not only is this the most i've written since like october??? but this is also my first work for bridgerton. kanthony brainrot has never left me so time to put it to paper. anyway this was inspired by one of my 87 different fanfic prompts i've been posting to tumblr (on @myficprompts) in hopes others will write it but i got impatient on this one and figured i'd just do it myself. (would love to see someone take on the original prompt though! please!!!!! thanks!!!)

***

Despite the way they have butted heads since their introduction, Lady Danbury had a begrudging respect for Miss Sharma. Her obstinance in the face of harsh truths was admirable to a degree. Frustrating, to be certain. Ill-mannered, to some extent. Yet the firm set of her shoulders, straight back, and words infused with a note of smugness proved she would be a formidable gatekeeper for her sister’s suitors.

If only the miss would not write herself off so young. Old maid by the Ton’s standards, unfortunately, but by her own, she had a full life still ahead of her.

Miss Sharma may have rejected her suggestion of a match but the curious way in which she admired Viscount Anthony Bridgerton also proved that the walls fortified around her young heart were not impenetrable.

Which meant that Miss Sharma’s disappearance in the midst of her sister’s first dance raised alarm.

As much as she had written herself off, she was still under Lady Danbury’s protection. Personal declarations of not being on the marriage mart did not make her unsusceptible to being compromised or other scandal. A thought that she would have hoped Miss Sharma to consider before wandering off but as Lady Danbury learned earlier, there was still much for her to learn about the Ton.

The dowager parted ways from a nervous Lady Mary with nothing more than a quip about watching her thirst before she moved about the room. The music covered the sound of her cane clacking against the wood floor and gave Lady Danbury the ability to slink along the walls of the conservatory.

Her stop at the set of windows near the entrance door proved most fruitful. She heard the faint sounds of gentlemen departing for the smoking room and, just before she continued her search, she spied her own charge stepping into close proximity to the viscount.

In view of the ballroom and still a respectable distance to not cause scandal, Lady Danbury did not appreciate the familiar nature in which the two conversed, especially as they had not been introduced. Huffing, she made her way to the entry garden.

“…as deficient as your horsemanship. I shall bid you goodnight.”

Lady Danbury came around the hedge at the same moment as Miss Sharma, their bodies nearly colliding.

“Miss Sharma,” she drawled, resting both hands on the head of her cane. She scrutinized the young woman, her eyes traveling to the flustered man who gaped at them like a fish out of water. “Viscount Bridgerton. How curious to find you both out here. Together.”

“My apologies, Lady Danbury – ” Viscount Bridgerton attempted to speak before Miss Sharma cut in suddenly, louder.

“I simply needed air. I did not realize I had to alert you of my need for a break.” She smiled, thin-lipped and with a hint of frustration – at the viscount, at her, at the situation – before bowing her head to Lady Danbury.

“Yes, well, seeing as you are under my protection,” Lady Danbury said, a warning glance to Viscount Bridgerton as he looked equal parts fearful and thrilled at the information, “I fear I did not stress the seriousness of some of the Ton’s etiquette specificities. It is of the utmost importance that they are understood, to lessen any troubles of your sister making a good match. Understood?”

Miss Sharma bit her tongue, her eyes darting to the side to the silent viscount behind her. “Of course, Lady Danbury,” she forced out.

“Lady Danbury, if I may – ”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the boy she’d known since he was in leading strings. A boy no longer if the title of Rake he’d worn without care for years meant anything. She always had a soft spot for the Bridgerton family. Her own connection aside, to find a love match such as the one between Edmund and Violet, a love match that proved fruitful until the eighth viscount’s death, was a rarity in the Ton. The strength of the family bonded by that love match showed in the closeness of the children and the genuine love and affection they showered upon each other. Even when she’d watch the children squabble and fight, it was never with the nasty cold demeanor of the rest of the Ton.

Then to watch as Anthony took on the role of viscount, father, and provider before heading to university had softened her more. Lady Danbury admired the way he took care of his family and how he not only kept them afloat following his father’s death but ensured that they thrived. He was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first. She did, after all, recall Miss Sharma’s slip of the tongue on the edge of the dance floor.

“You have done quite enough, Viscount Bridgerton.”

Her glare silenced the viscount as his mouth thinned and his brows furrowed in displeasure.

“Lady Danbury, I must go see to my sister – ”

“Your sister is being looked after by your mother, Miss Sharma. Perhaps you should let those of us seasoned within the Ton take over from here.”

Miss Sharma pressed her lips together for a moment before she responded. “With all due respect, as I mentioned earlier, I was the one to prepare my sister for her debut and I really should be helping to vet the quality of her dance partners…”

The young woman’s words never made it to Lady Danbury’s ears as her eyes were too busy taking in the scene before her. They flickered between Miss Sharma and Viscount Bridgerton with a quick and startling realization.

Cut from the same cloth, they stood before her as the eldest siblings of their families, the caretakers and providers, with strong shoulders upon which the heavy burdens of their families laid. The protectors who cannot see the wood for the trees in regards to the marriage mart.

Equals.

“Hm,” Lady Danbury cut Miss Sharma off. “A dance is a brilliant idea.”

“My lady?” Miss Sharma asked, blinking her eyes in confusion.

“Pardon me?” Viscount Bridgerton asked behind her.

Lady Danbury hit her cane against the ground. Even without the sound of its impact, the two before her stood just a hair taller. She raised her voice as the doors to the ballroom opened. “How wonderful of Viscount Bridgerton to ask for your next dance. Splendid indeed!”

Miss Sharma huffed. “He absolutely did nothing of the sort. He cannot even dance.”

Viscount Bridgerton rolled his eyes. “Now you object to my dancing abilities?”

“I saw how you nearly trampled the young miss on your last dance.”

A smug grin worked its way onto his face as he stepped closer. “So you admit to eavesdropping and watching me now?”

“As I said, it is not eavesdropping if you speak loud enough for the entire party to hear!”

Lady Danbury cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows expectantly at the two in front of her. She swung out her cane, hitting their shins and watching in satisfaction as the two stepped apart though neither were entirely pleased.

“Yes, a dance will be a nice way to tidy this situation up. Afterall,” she said, lowering her voice, “it would not do well for others to know of your conversations and familiarity prior to an introduction. And I will require to know just how familiar you are with each other.”

Miss Sharma laughed off the suggestion. “That will not be necessary, Lady Danbury. I do not host any of the, what was it,” she turned to the viscount for a moment with a saccharine smile before facing Lady Danbury once more. “Ah, yes, impeccable qualities that Viscount Bridgerton is in search of in a wife.”

This time, the huff came from the viscount’s mouth. “That is completely unfair and you know it, Miss Sharma,” he said, a teasing lilt endearing to his voice as he said her name, negating the frustration that colored it prior. He cleared his throat before she could respond and grinned at Lady Danbury much like the cat that ate the canary. “However, you are right, Lady Danbury. A dance is a wonderful idea to mitigate any chance of scandal.”

She watched in amusement as Viscount Bridgerton’s grin widened when he turned to Miss Sharma. He lifted his hand and held it out to her, waiting for a moment.

“Miss Sharma, may I have this dance?”

Despite his proud swagger, the viscount’s request came out soft and like a whisper. His eyes crinkled and his gaze warmed, melting the arrogance that so often moved him forward. For a moment, Lady Danbury felt as if she was witnessing Edmund charming Violet all over again.

Miss Sharma’s breath hitched in the back of her throat at the intimacy that laced his words and she swallowed before quietly answering her agreement. Her hand shook, though Lady Danbury assumed she was the only one to notice, as she lifted it to place in the viscount’s.

Lady Danbury hummed in satisfaction as she allowed the two to enter the ballroom before her, Viscount Bridgerton’s perfect posture only lending to the peacocking he did as he led Miss Sharma to the dance floor. If she knew the viscount as well as she believed to, his peacocking, was less of a matter of besting Miss Sharma at their undisclosed challenge and more at having her on his arm, contrary to what he was currently telling himself. The way their eyes never strayed from one another as they readied themselves only proved her point.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Violet’s jaw drop minutely before their eyes met.

Did he willingly ask…? Her oldest friend seemed to ask. Lady Danbury nodded with a smug smile. The viscount who saw finding a wife more of a duty and chore than a chance for happiness, bewitched by a so-called spinster.

The music started and the two moved in perfect harmony. Their connection was palpable and they enchanted the room as they seemed to float through each step. Only when they began to whisper amongst themselves, a mix of bickering and flirting, did Lady Danbury notice the queen’s arrival at her side.

“What an interesting season this will be,” Queen Charlotte murmured, her smile pleased and mischievous.

“Interesting, indeed.”

[devastatinglygreen]

i am trying so hard to work but i cannot with a devastated colin's voice going "then what good am i to you?" playing on repeat in my head