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#Colin x Penelope
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Nicola as Penelope Featherington - Bridgerton
Artist: wormyworm2
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alexa-crowe · 3 days
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BRIDGERTON 1.01 | "Diamond of the First Water" 2.08 | "The Viscount Who Loved Me"
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On May 16th 2022
Luke Newton shared a picture of Nic and him as Colin and Penelope with an announcement season 3 is Polin season.
Exactly two years later their season is about to premiere.
The circle is complete.
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Also the way these photos line up.. how I love a good paralel❤️
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waltricia · 2 days
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I’m sorry ‘heart eyes’, you’re gorgeous, but I’ve decided it’s ‘what a barb!’ for me. Pen hides, masks, and code-switches all the time, but in this moment, she lets it all go and is 100% Whistledown. And what follows is the most sexually charged Polin moment of the first two seasons. It’s the best foreshadowing of what’s to come.
Update: And speaking of foreshadowing- I just noticed this- a man in red walks behind both of them in that moment. I don’t know how intentional this was, but I made another post about the use of the color red in the third season and how it seems that when red is behind someone, framing them, it indicates attraction and love. It’s going to be a major symbolic device in season 3. So, I’m wondering now, were they setting that up back in season 1, in this moment? Or was that just a really fantastic coincidence?
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bononstar · 1 day
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actually the polin scene with the most sexual energy charged into it was the “penelope, what a barb!” scene because like… make out
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lianapetr · 2 days
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#POLIN  Fan Art ✨
Soul mates will always be together❤
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crinolinedream · 2 days
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Not my art. These beauties were posted on Twitter and I’m not sure if the account that shared them created them, but they are magnificent. All credit to the artist.
Artist: Yeka Sanfelipe
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"Why does he spend his entire life running away from what he finds.. and searching for what he can't find?"
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I can't freaking wait...
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A story? Inspired by this picture? Even though I've only ever written one other regency fic?
I just couldn't resist. Hope you like it!
Sneak Peek
“Penelope, they were looking at all of the couples on the dance floor, it is practically customary-”   “I am already aware of that. Colin. And yes, perhaps some members were paying more attention to one of the other pairings on the dance floor.” Her voice sounded a tad foreign to her own ears, dark and fed up. “But not all. Some were staring specifically at us. Fife was staring at us.”   “Is that what this is about?” He questioned. “Who the bloody hell cares what Fife of all people thinks?”   “You do, Colin!” The words burst out of her. “You must care what he thinks!”   “Why on earth would you say that?” His brows furrowed.   Penelope could not say which it was, the genuine confusion in Colin’s voice or the fact that he dared utter the question in the first place, but she felt a fire light within her. Her anger was bright and burning. She was completely and entirely incensed.   And the fault lay with Colin.   “Tell me, Colin,” she began, hating the way her voice gave away her every emotion, “if Fife were to ask you if you were courting me tonight, what would you say?”
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queen-haq · 3 days
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Fic: Never You, Part 8 (Polin fic)
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)
Spoilers: S3 released scenes.
Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.
Excerpt:
“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”
“Of course you would think that.”
“What else is this if not punishment?”
Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)
A03 link if that's more your jam
With her heart and mind in complete shambles the next day, the last place Penelope wanted to be at was the Bridgerton Manor. But there she was, cushioned between Lady Violet and her own mother for afternoon tea. As if things weren’t difficult enough, the Cowpers were also in attendance, which meant she was forced to watch Eloise and Cressida act like the best of friends. Occasionally Eloise would glance at her from the other side of the room, as if to gauge her reaction. The optimistic part of Penelope hoped it was because her former friend still cared, but the cynic in her knew otherwise. Eloise wanted to make it crystal clear that Penelope was alone now. Without Eloise, without the Bridgertons, she was an outsider. And who better to emphasize that point with than Cressida Cowper herself. The tall blonde had bullied Penelope since they were little girls, and now Eloise had joined forces with Satan herself. As if on cue, Cressida cast her a disparaging glance, whispering something in Eloise’s ears before both women exchanged a spiteful smile.
It was one thing to have Eloise be angry at her, that Penelope understood and could live with, but to see Eloise and Cressida’s blossoming friendship felt like an arrow through the heart. And it hurt, it hurt so much.
The night of the ball Penelope would’ve done anything to reconcile with Eloise, but since then she came to realize a lot of hard truths. The ton, Eloise, Colin – they only accepted her as long as she followed their rules. A woman like her, shy and large, not borne into wealth or beauty wasn’t allowed to want things. She had to remain voiceless, live in the shadow of others, not expect to be loved or cherished. The moment she refused to play the part of an insipid wallflower she was punished. And that was fine, she would live with the consequences of the choices she made. But what she wouldn’t do was reveal her pain for anyone’s enjoyment. So Eloise could be as snide as she wanted, she and Cressida could humiliate her to their heart’s content but they would never conquer her publicly.
“Penelope, you looked lovely at the VanGuard soiree.”
Breaking out of her reverie, Penelope smiled at Lady Violet. “Thank you.”
“The various shades of green have been a surprise,” Portia chimed in, sipping her tea. “I wasn’t with Penelope the day she went to the modiste and Miss Delacroix certainly took advantage of that. Probably talked my foolish child into buying all the unused fabrics she couldn’t sell to others.”
“I doubt Miss Delacroix has to resort to trickery to sell her clothes,” Penelope replied.
“She is very much in demand as a dressmaker,” Lady Violet added.
“Hmph…” was her mama’s response. “I suppose it could have been much worse. At least the green doesn’t wash out her complexion too much.”
Violet responded with a stiff smile. “I thought it suited her quite well.” She turned to Penelope. “We’ve missed having you here for tea.”
Penelope merely smiled.
“I suppose my Cressida has kept Eloise so busy these past few weeks she hasn’t had time for… others.” Penelope had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Lady Cowper. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the condescending tree.
“I’m sure that will be rectified soon,” Lady Violet replied, a hopeful tilt to her voice.
Penelope didn’t have the heart to tell her things had irrevocably changed. Eloise refused to understand her motivations, and Penelope wasn’t willing to fall on her sword to make things right between them.
“Mother, Cressida and I are going to take a stroll in the gardens,” Eloise announced, linking her arms through Cressida's as they both headed out of the room.
Lady Violet’s warm eyes gleamed with compassion as she directed her attention back to Penelope. “Would you like to join them?”
That was the last thing she wanted. “Is it alright if I visit the library?”
“Yes, of course.”
The stern look on Portia’s face indicated she wasn’t happy about Penelope spending time in the stuffy Bridgerton library but Penelope didn’t care. It was a room she loved, filled with many warm, comforting memories of happier times.
Excusing herself, she walked away from the prying eyes of the mothers, desperate for a moment alone. Her stomach was still tied in knots, her head pounding. She had stayed awake most of the night in Colin’s arms, inhaling him in and etching everything about him to her memory. At the same time her guilty conscience had warred with her heart, reminding her of the horrible mistake she was making. It was only when fatigue took over that she managed to get some sleep. By the time she woke up Colin had already left, and she had spent the morning agonizing over what to tell Arthur.
Penelope quietly walked to the library, grateful it was in the opposite wing from where the bedchambers were. The last thing she needed was to run into Colin; after last night, she was too embarrassed to face him.
Stepping inside the library, she shut the door behind. She closed her eyes. Breathed in the air, the smell of books infusing her senses. Sunlight peeked in through the windows, casting shadows across the room. As children she and Eloise had spent countless hours playing hide and seek between the shelves. This room had also been a haven when Mama and Papa fought, or those days Mama had been especially harsh about her eating habits. Penelope would sneak away and make her way into the Bridgerton library through the gardens and the back door, desperate for a quiet place to simply be.
She crossed the room, walking to the window which overlooked the south section of the garden. Staring out, she caught a glimpse of Cressida and Eloise walking together, engaged in deep conversation. It was Cressida’s facial expression that caught her attention. The blonde, usually so smarmy and full of herself, seemed almost shy next to Eloise, even vulnerable. Apparently they were friends.
Taking a deep breath, she walked further into the room, behind the shelves, to the hidden alcove.
Her heart was heavy, her mind still fraught with guilt. She had spent the morning writing and rewriting to Arthur, debating on how much to tell him. In the end, she decided to keep it short.
I made a mistake. One I’m not sure you can forgive me for. It’s best if we speak in person.
Tears welled in her eyes, her throat tightened with emotion.
As hurtful as Colin’s words had been about not courting her, at least they finally revealed what his true thoughts were. He didn’t love her, nor would he ever, and no amount of wishing would make it so. And ultimately, his honesty had been a gift because it allowed her to get through the pain and open her mind to pursue someone new. She hadn’t gone looking for Arthur, but when he’d come into her life she hadn’t closed herself off either. She may not have loved him madly like Colin but she held deep affection for him. There was also mutual respect between them and friendship. He understood what writing meant to her and pledged his full support, and that was a rare quality amongst men in their society. She had so much to look forward to and it was all gone now, completely eviscerated because of her own foolishness.
Tears fell down her cheeks while she pondered the bleak future ahead of her. Without any marriage prospects, she was doomed to be a spinster. Unlike Eloise, she wanted a husband and children, a contented marriage, a home where she would finally belong. As a spinster, however, she would most likely spend the rest of her life with Portia and be the sole recipient of her mother’s criticisms. Oh God. No, no, no, just the thought of that made her panic. Heart pounding, she clutched her chest, utterly dejected about her broken dreams.
“Pen? What’s wrong?”
She turned around to find Colin standing a few feet away. She swiped the tears from her face, quickly composing herself. “Nothing, I just have some dirt in my eyes.” While he crossed the room in only a few strides, she gave him a cursory smile. Seeing the concern on his face, she quickly averted her eyes away from him. “I need to return to the sitting room. Mama must be waiting for me.”
“You’ve been crying.” There was fear in his voice when he spoke. “What’s wrong?
She shook her head. “I’m fine-”
“I know I haven’t been a good friend to you recently. I wasn’t there when your father passed, I’ve been callous with your feelings – but please, Pen, give me a chance to help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Despite using all her resolve to hold it together, she started to shake. The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears in check. She couldn’t bear for him to see her when she was feeling so low and pathetic.
All of a sudden his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a warm, comforting hug. “It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me, you don’t fully trust me yet. But please let me hold you for a while?”
It may have been posed as a question, yet his tight embrace indicated he wouldn’t let go even if she refused. And she tried, she tried to hold onto her pride and fight him off, but he was stronger and more resolute and eventually she gave in. The solace he offered made her crumble and she buried her face in his chest, crying silently in his arms.
For the longest while he simply hugged her, murmuring tender words, dropping light kisses on the crown of her head. He felt so strong yet gentle, offering his support, and her heart yearned for him. If only he could love her, want her for who she truly was. She let herself indulge in that fantasy for a few minutes, pondering life with him as his wife, being family with the Bridgertons, even having Eloise back as her best friend. She could continue to write, and they would be supportive without judging her. Her life would be perfect, she would never need for anything again.
Time held no meaning. All she felt was the warmth of his touch, his scent blanketing her senses, making her feel safe and secure in his grasp. Nestled in his arms, she listened to his heartbeat. Strong, slow, steady. Whereas her heart was pounding rapidly, like it always did when she was around him. A stark reminder of how much she was affected by him, whilst he wasn’t at all by her.
And that was enough for her mind to stop dwelling in the fantasy of Colin. There was never any possibility of a future with him. And she was absurd for letting herself daydream about it.
The tears stopped. A calm logic fell over her.
She took a deep breath.
Her foolish heart may have cost her a future with Arthur but that didn’t mean she was out of options.
She had amassed a small fortune already. And with any luck, the investments she made would continue to grow in value. While nothing would change her status as a spinster, that didn’t mean she had to live with Mama for the rest of her life. She could leave and build a life elsewhere, without her mother’s approval. In secret if she had to.
It wouldn’t be easy, but not impossible. After all, she had built Lady Whistledown from nothing. And now her nom de plume was one of the most influential names in the ton.  She was Penelope Featherington and she could do anything she set her mind to.
“Who made you cry, Penelope?”
His words instantly brought her back to reality, and she was reminded of how desperately she was clinging to him. Immediately she dropped her arms, intending to step back but he didn’t release his grip on her. Instead, he tucked his finger under her chin and nudged her head up to meet his gaze.
It was then she noticed the dark storm brewing in his gaze. There was anger in his eyes, on his face, his jaw clenched. The Colin she grew up with was cheery and affable, equally popular amongst ladies and gentlemen of the ton because of his friendly nature. But he wasn’t the same man staring back at her now, seething with rage, a strange viciousness vibrating off of him.
“No one gets to hurt you, Penelope.”
He wasn’t loud or boisterous with his threat, instead his tone was quiet which made his words even more dangerous. Because he wasn’t putting on an act. He meant every word.
His thumb swiped the tear stains from her cheeks, first left, then right, before trailing down to her lips. His breathing grew more shallow with every second, and his eyes held her transfixed, making it impossible for her to look away from him. She was his prisoner, body and soul.
“Tell me who it was.”
She swallowed audibly. “Why do you care?”
“Because you're everything to me.” His arms encircled her back, pulling her against him. “And I will destroy the fucking world before I let someone hurt you again."
There was no time to argue, to think. A palpable force compelled them together, as real as the air they breathed. His lips closed over hers, kissing her possessively, and she kissed him back with equal fervor, desperate to touch him. The pull between them was too much, yet not enough. His hands all over her body, pulling at her dress, hers frantically removing his waistcoat and shirt because she wanted – no, needed – to feel his bare skin on hers again. They were spiraling towards full madness. Nothing else mattered except his mouth dragging down her neck, trailing a path of heated kisses. On his knees now, she clutched his hair as his mouth sought out her breasts. The friction from his mouth laving her hardened nipple over the fabric of her dress was electric. She couldn’t take it, rolling her head back at the sheer intensity of it. 
"Colin! What are you doing?”
Penelope's eyes flew open. 
Standing on the other side of the room was Eloise, watching them with complete horror on her face.  
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gleefullypolin · 3 days
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Countdown to Season 3 of Bridgerton - My favorite Quotes from Romancing Mister Bridgerton
18 Days to Polin
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Countdown to Season 3 of Bridgerton - My favorite Quotes from Romancing Mister Bridgerton
17 Days to Polin
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Luke Newton for High Life
I'm so happy! We're getting Polin in future seasons too!
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tofanasmuse · 1 day
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do you ever think like I have no idea how they would look like kissing?
I think this about Pen and Colin at least ninety six times a day and then feel like screaming cuz soon (18 days) I'm gonna know.
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creed801 · 2 days
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