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#anthony bridgerton visuals

i-hate-accidents · 1 month

Text

i hate accidents: the between

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: classism, mentions of financial survival, microaggressive sexism, microaggressive gender assumption, intersectional low self-image of y/n, positive/supportive families, retelling of recurrent microaggressive homophobic experience with y/n’s family member in [II.vi], short description of almost throwing up (not related to low self-image) in [II.vii]

word count: 9.1k (of 38.8k)

story context: everything in s1 and s2 of the tv series is canon for this story except for the s2 epilogue with the bridgertons. this story takes place leading up to and into the 1815 season.

additional notes: this story is incomplete. scenes that are not written are described in chevrons <> with third person pov or are delineated by isolated ellipses. additionally, the author has only watched s2! she has not watched any of s1 aside from clips, and they have not read the books aside from quotes used in edits. they have not yet watched queen charlotte. the author kinda knows the gist of an offer from a gentleman; they are familiar with sophie beckett (and are excited to meet her/them in the tv series!).

author’s note: this is the first time the author has written fanfic in 13-15 years. :) it is her hope that they have made some progress since her pre/teens. additionally, this fanfic has been written, on and off, over the course of two years. the author sincerely hopes you find some sort of joy in it, especially the readers who maybe hope to see themself a little more specifically in the world we so love.

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @bedobeeeee @stvrdustalexx @anisas-nonsense @crazymar15 and all who have liked the story so far: the author extends her gratitude for your engagement with the first section. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.i ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“have i told you that you are the best model who has ever sat for me?”

it has become a common occurrence. whenever you read while in the drawing room, benedict asks if you can be his model for his hand studies. you oblige, seeing how you are already so still while reading aside from the occasional page turn, and—more so—you want to support how benedict progresses in his craft. today, you and benedict are sat at a table as hyacinth plays a solitary game of cards on the floor and kathani and anthony sit at a couch with some delicious smelling tea. you had come over to meet eloise and penelope first thing but were soon informed that the two young ladies were still at the markets with colin. that made you smile; your loud friend is, no doubt, inserting herself emotionally and physically in between your two friends in love.

you feel yourself scrunch your eyebrows at benedict’s comment.

“surely you are exaggerating.”

“hyacinth was my last model; she was horrific.”

you hear an aghast gasp and do nothing to hide the amusement in your smile.

“it is difficult to sit still!” the youngest bridgerton yells.

“hyacinth, it is not becoming of a young lady to ye— ow!”

you see somewhat in your periphery how kathani puts the hand she used to thwack her husband’s arm back on her teacup handle, smiling. benedict, in the meantime, groans and seems to be focusing even more intently on his sketch as not to make eye contact with his youngest sister.

“yes, i understand it is difficult, but you did not sit still for even eight seconds.”

you have not shifted your position in the past half hour or so as not to ruin the angle of your hand for benedict; but you need not visual confirmation to already know that hyacinth has rolled her eyes in response to her brother and returned to her game.

“well, what about the art academy?” you continue. “there must have been very good models there for you to draw.”

and very beautiful ones, at that.

“it is true, there were; but,” you see him smile as he smudges his paper, “none are comparable to you.”

you feel your cheeks light aflame and, with a cough, focus even more intently on your passage.

“then i ought to give up on my profession as a basket weaver and put in my request as a model at the art academy.”

“you do realize that you would have to pose—” you see how he pauses his drawing, looking to see where the youngest is in the room, and lowers his voice as he leans forward towards you; (you attempt not to roll your eyes), ”—nude, in order to be a model there, y/n.”

“yes, and what issue is there with that?”

you look away from your passage to benedict to make a point with your stare and are startled to see how startled benedict looks, the familiar ocean of his eyes almost entirely gone and replaced by the black of his pupils.

“nothing. there is no issue. no issue at——” he coughs, scratching the back of his ear, no doubt smudging it with charcoal, “would you like to see my progress so far?”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.ii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< in the gardens of number five. penelope, eloise, hyacinth, and gregory are adventurers looking to save the princess benedict from the banshee y/n.

< hidden behind a hedge, y/n and benedict bicker. >

“you are a middle child on a technicality, benedict.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you have seven siblings. anthony the eldest, hyacinth the youngest—and everyone in between simply a middle child? you all could not be more different from one another, and you are at the very top; you are practically an eldest child.”

“i’ll have you know that no one, myself included, sees me as such.”

“i’m familiar. an eldest sibling with a penchant for peculiar tea is not one i would describe with an overwhelming sense of duty.”

“how do you know of that?”

“kathani told me. she recounted to me her first dinner with the family and how transcendently in the most literal sense you had behaved.”

“so you two talk of me?”

you feel the tips of your ears heat, but fortunately your hair hides your embarrassment sufficiently. you roll your eyes.

“is that what you gleaned? do not think too deeply about it.”

“i shall think about it deeply and often,” he states with a twinkle in his eyes. in an attempt to ignore your fluster and flutterings, you roll your eyes again and shove him. he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling adorably whenever he is truly delighted. despite your best efforts (you put in no effort), you smile at him. it cannot be helped when you are around benedict.

“now, make haste; hyacinth is about to cast a spell, and she needs a princess to save. may i grasp your arm?”

“grasp my what?”

“your arm! i need to pretend as if i am holding you captive, but i am not simply going to take hold of it without permission.”

“how chivalrous of you.”

“i suppose i’ve learned from a sufficient enough gentleman.”

benedict grins and offers his arm.

“i am yours for the taking.”

it is preposterous how much this man makes you want to roll your eyes. and how much you welcome it. in the moment, however, you refrain yourself and, instead, smile at him in return as you yank yourselves both out of the hedge to be seen by the others.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.iii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< on a morning before she is off to number five, y/n realizes that her last remaining skirt still needs to be cleaned after she had spilt a bottle of ink on it. (she was devastated by losing so much writing material and money in one fell swoop.) she had been so preoccupied with work that she had forgotten to clean it.

< in a rush, she looks throughout her house for extra skirts but to no avail; the only thing she finds that she can wear is a pair of trousers from when her father was younger. she finds this suitable enough, puts them on, and runs off to bridgerton house.

< upon arriving at the drawing room wearing trousers, y/n hears a choking sound. she looks over and sees that benedict has somehow spilt tea all over himself. as the bridgerton family makes comments of curiosity and support of y/n’s current attire, benedict excuses himself, y/n hearing how he mumbles that he needs to change his clothes.

< after some time, benedict returns, but y/n notices that, aside from removing his coat, he still wears the clothes he was in. she remarks to herself: how can he have been gone for long enough but still be in the same clothes? >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.iv ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you gasp.

“wait!”

you do not wait to hear a response from your companions; you right about turn, swing open the door to number five, and run into the house, straight towards the drawing room.

“benedict!” you shout, “you must come see!”

“wha—“

you grab his hand, pulling him up from his slouched lounge.

“quickly! you must make haste!”

adrenaline and joy rushing in your veins, you lead benedict out of the drawing room and towards the entrance where, upon returning, you see giles, with a large beam on his face, holding open the door. you laugh, shooting him a quick nod and grin of your gratitude, and bring benedict outside, pass penelope and colin, pass the gates of bridgerton house, towards the road, and halt yourself and benedict in place.

you shoot your forefinger outward, pointing towards the sky, your grin ever growing.

“look!”

benedict has been looking at you incredulously, as if you’ve completely lost your mind, and perhaps you have, but you’d be damned if you got to see this and benedict hadn’t. he shifts his gaze and grin from you towards the sky, and as you had expected, as you had hoped, his expression transforms from gleeful confusion into complete awe.

“see? it is just like your palette of ideas! the oranges, the reds, the yellows, the purples, the pinks. here it all is, made by mother nature herself, and you have already managed to capture the hues in the pigments of your paints!” laughter bubbles out of you. “it is amazing! you are amazing!”

you hear a soft buzz in your ear, causing you to turn towards the familiar sound. a bumblebee swirls about your head, and it makes you giggle. you always had a fondness for the sweet creatures; how wonderous one has come to greet you at such a moment! the bee lands on your nose, as if to give you a kiss, causing you to giggle even more, before it departs and flies off into the sky.

as you stare at your departing friend, as you stare into the sorcerous colors of the sunset, as your smile feels permanent in this moment, you ask benedict,

“isn’t it beautiful?”

“yes.”

you turn to benedict, expecting to see his side profile tilted towards the sky when, instead, you connect with his ocean eyes. gazing at you.

your smile fades away as you quietly suck in air through your nose. you feel a soft caress at your hand, and looking down, you see that you are still holding hands with benedict, him gently rubbing the side of your hand with his thumb. you look back up, and with indecipherable ocean eyes and a soft smile on his lips, he still gazes at you. butterflies flutter maddeningly within you. the way he looks at you, it makes you feel scared. but you’d be damned if you allowed your fear to tear yourself away from benedict. so, instead, you smile back and gently rub the side of his hand with your thumb too.

“well!”

you and benedict reel back from one another, letting go of one another’s hands. as you feel the loss of his touch, you whip your head towards the voice and see a smirking colin, by the side of a smiling penelope, both approaching the two of you.

“while i hate to get in the way of two— friends in the midst of a conversation, i must fulfill my duties and escort miss featherington to her home.”

you roll your eyes as you promptly ignore the fire that burns on your cheeks.

“you rich people and your escortings. penelope lives across the way! she would have already been home if you would have let her, colin.”

“yes, that is true,” pipes up penelope, “but then i would have missed out on such a beautiful sight,” and instead of gesturing at the sunset as her words imply, she keeps her eyes locked on you and benedict.

menaces. i am friends with menaces.

with smugness in their smiles and delight in their eyes, penelope and colin nod their heads in farewell. as they move past, you feel a soft squeeze on the side of your arm and see penelope giving you a wink. you stare off at the couple, penelope featherington and colin bridgerton, your absolute menaces of friends who have left you and benedict stunned in spot.

benedict.

benedict!

you turn your head to face him. he must have realized at the same moment as you, for you are greeted by an equally speechless expression. feeling yourself staring into his ocean eyes a moment too long, you cough and look away.

“right, i suppose— i, going— i should be going.”

“of course— yes, that is— right, yes, very good—— not! you going! you going is not— not good! i— we— are more than glad to let you stay!— not let you, but! but have you stay with—— us! stay with us!—”

“benedict,” feeling the instinct to touch his hand again, you hesitate and, instead, touch the side of his arm. you offer him a smile to his (adorably) flustered state. “i understand what you are trying to convey.”

he huffs out a breath and smiles warily in return, and it is truly absurd how beautiful he is when his suave falls away. when he takes off the façade he performs to the world and is just himself. not a bridgerton, not a second eldest son, not a gentleman. just—

benedict.

the one you—— care for.

the one you care for.

the one i care for.

“thank you, y/n,” you hear him say, “for sharing this with me.”

“of course. you were first to come to mind when i saw it.”

“shall i— shall i escort you home?”

you snort, inadvertently breaking whatever odd energy has grown between the two of you, and he grins in response.

“goodness, no. i am fully capable of walking there myself. besides, it is too far from here, unlike miss featherington,” you intonate the last of your words with mockery. you will battle colin bridgerton one day.

“i enjoy a long walk. and with such a beautiful sight, it would be much more a blessing than a burden.”

“daylight is fastly fading; the sunset will not last another eight minutes.”

“yes, the sunset. because that is what i was referring to,” he says as he stares at you with a lopsided grin.

rolling your eyes, and feeling the violent flutterings in your stomach, you shove benedict by his shoulder, which causes him to laugh and throw his hand up in mock surrender.

“good evening, benedict,” you finalize as you walk away, a smile quickly forming on your lips once out of his sight.

“good evening, y/n,” and you hear the smile in his voice.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.v ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“it is here!”

you had just begun to cross your writing when you look up and see kathani enter the drawing room, paper in hand.

“what’s here?” you inquire. the viscountess smiles.

“perhaps you should be the first to see,” and she hands you the sheet.

taking it into your hands, you are immediately struck by the ornate illustrations of flowers and foliage ornamenting the borders—they are printed on! rather than hand drawn. you run your fingers against the paper to test your observation. you’ve only seen such a feat in the books you’ve borrowed from the bridgertons, so it impresses you (though perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me, you remark to yourself) that kathani has found a press to accomplish this feat for her printing.

you then take in the lettering and read,

a ball in titania’s garden court

“come, now a roundel and a fairy song.”

the company of

is requested at bridgerton house, number 5 in grosvenor square, on thursday evening, jul. 6, 1815 at 9 o’clock p. m.

“you helped inspire the theme,” kathani remarks. you look up from the paper to her; her eyes are intently on you.

“me? how so?”

“with our reading of his work, and our conversations with eloise and penelope, he was naturally on my mind when planning for the ball.”

you beam.

“how wondrous! your first ball in the city, and you are bringing the fairies to it,” you turn to the others. “you must tell me how it goes! i’d be delighted to hear what the dresses were like, with the theme and all, and if any larks ensued.”

you note to yourself how penelope will likely know of all of the latter far better than any of the bridgertons, but it would be intriguing, nevertheless, to hear their perspectives. you turn to the viscountess once more, “it is a brilliant idea, kathani. i’m honored to have had some part in it.”

you see her open her mouth in response—

“oh good!”

—when you hear anthony’s voice at the entrance of the drawing room.

“you’ve accepted! that is wonderful news.”

you furrow your eyebrows as he approaches.

“accepted?”

“the invitation. to the ball.”

“what?”

anthony looks around the room to his family and then back to you.

“i— am beginning to think that is not what you were responding to.”

“how quick of you, brother,” deadpans colin.

“i have just entered!”

“and have proceeded to make a fool of yourself,” eloise counters.

“it’s appropriate for the theme, really,” colin turns to kathani. “sister, perhaps you might change the dress to costumes? anthony would make an excellent bottom to your titania.”

“i am—” you start, “still lost.”

kathani gently nods her head to the paper in your hand. you look down again. previously neglecting it for the printed words and illustrations, you now read what is clearly in the viscountess’s handwriting between ‘the company of’ and ‘is requested’:

miss y/n y/l/n.

“this is an invitation. for me.”

you look up from the invitation and are greeted by kathani, and the rest of the bridgerton family at number five, expectantly staring at you.

“but—— but—”

“now, i understand that this might be quite overwhelming,” begins kathani, “but after speaking with the family, we all agreed that it would be most wondrous if you were to attend the ball. we would make certain that you felt prepared, beforehand, with lessons in dance and etiquette, hence why i’ve prepared the invitations earlier than customary.”

“not! to assume that you are not already competent in these,” adds colin. “you certainly have more grace than eloise— ow!” and he rubs the part of his arm eloise just smacked.

“but if it would appease your mind,” violet interjects, “and help with your concurrence, then we would be more than elated to offer them, and to do them with you.”

“your attire would be paid for,” anthony states simply, “and we would pay the business of your employment their missed earnings for the days in which you will be preparing for the ball and resting from the event’s happenings. and, if you shall allow it, we would support you and your family from your abstained days of wages.”

“balls are dreadful,” asserts eloise, “but!” she continues swiftly, and exasperatedly, upon seeing her family’s reaction, “with your presence, this one would certainly be more bearable. pleasant!, even.”

“we,” hyacinth gestures to herself and gregory, “cannot attend the ball, but we will help you in any way we can before then!”

“and we will be there on the morning and afternoon of, if you would like!” gregory exclaims.

kathani was wrong.

this is not quite overwhelming. this is overwhelmingly overwhelming.

you do not even know where to begin in processing all of the information with which you have just been bombarded. the wages, the etiquette, the paying, the attire, the dancing, the days off, the ball itself.

but what strikes you most of all—

“you all… agreed? of wanting me at the ball?”

you look around the drawing room. your friends’ countenances are illuminated with beams. all, but one. you turn to him. he was the only one not to have stated his case in the family’s proposal.

before you can start to ruminate on the implications of such, he offers you a smile. small, but enough for those stupid, stupefying butterflies to flutter within.

“we did,” benedict says. “we do.”

you exhale.

“then,” though weary from the turn of this day, you offer a small smile in return, to benedict, to the family, “then yes. i shall go to the ball.”

hyacinth and gregory nearly knock you over in the chair you’re sat in by the sheer power of their hugs. violet, clapping her hands, laughs with delight at the sight. eloise exclaims something about penelope finding out. anthony states he shall begin the ledger. colin, for whatever reason, starts talking about the cakes that will be there. kathani remarks that there is much to do and that she, and all of the family, will be there every step of the way.

and benedict smiles. still small. still enough. with those damned ocean eyes.

i shall never understand the absurdity that is this family.

and how delighted you are by that. how grateful you are for them.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.vi ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“your rehearsal partners will be myself and gregory,” states the viscount.

you try to withhold your sigh. you have been dreading this day since kathani first told you of it. you are utterly delighted to be a student under the tutelage of the viscountess; you are utterly petrified of being a dance student.

“and why do benedict and i not have the privilege to dance with y/n?”

it also does not quell your petrification that the entirety of number five has decided to be present for your lessons.

“because, colin, you two are unmarried men; i am a married one; and gregory is a child.”

“i have just entered my adolescent years!”

“precisely,” anthony grins, “a child.”

“kathani and hyacinth can be potential partners,” you suggest, diverging as not to join hyacinth in her laughter at gregory’s disgruntlement. despite the anxiety that somehow both swells and knots within you, you are resolute on being intentional and present during your lessons. “the former is married, and the latter is a child.”

anthony opens his mouth to respond but suddenly closes it shut. he blinks.

“why have you not considered eloise?”

“because she is unmarried. i am assuming that you do not want me to partner with colin or benedict, for fear of some sort of— romantic attraction forming. so i’ve applied the same logic to eloise.”

there is a small silence. you can see how anthony (and perhaps the rest of the room, you sense) is busily processing within his mind (and theirs) what you have said to him.

kathani pats her husband twice on his back and smiles at you.

“that is an excellent idea, y/n. we will rotate your partners amongst myself, anthony, gregory, and hyacinth. let us begin.”

and so you do, and it is quite horrendous. or rather, you are quite horrendous.

kathani is, unsurprisingly, a marvelous teacher, but not even she as a guide can prevent you from stepping on her, anthony’s, hyacinth’s, and gregory’s feet. you apologize profusely each time you do so, and so you apologize frequently and often, but each of your partners still smile at you without a drop of deceit or regret in their expressions despite their winces. they encourage you in all their particular ways. kathani gently knocks the foot you stepped on her to where it ought to be placed. anthony pacifies that you are doing well. hyacinth recounts how she had struggled as you when she first began her lessons. gregory assures that you are not nearly as heavy-footed as eloise.

even those who aren’t your partners encourage you. eloise confirms gregory’s statement, not once peeking into the book she holds in her hands. colin claps his hands to help you keep the tempo of the steps. violet, at the pianoforte, enthuses how much progress you are making with each passing dance. penelope, who joined the drawing room part way through a rather disastrous cotillion with anthony, begins to clap her hands excitedly upon seeing you.

the only bridgeton you haven’t heard from the entirety of your lessons is benedict. while rehearsing a sequence in a quadrille with hyacinth, you notice the vacant spot next to eloise where he once sat. you try to feign to yourself that your following misstep is due to your ineptitude in rhythm and nothing else. certainly not the lack of presence of a particular someone.

after you curtsy and kathani bows upon finishing a scotch reel, she beams at you.

“i believe that is enough lessons for today.”

you sigh with every bit of your lungs, your attempt at perfectly squared shoulders immediately slumping in relief. the family chortles in response and gives you a pleasant round of applause. you feel your cheeks go flush with embarrassment, completely unbelieving that your horrific display of dancing deserves any sort of praise, but the sentiment warms your heart.

“i would like to pardon myself, if that is all right,” you request towards kathani, “for a moment, is all.”

“yes, of course,” and she takes your hand. “and we do mean it, y/n. you have done well today. you should be proud.”

before you can respond to her, she gives a gentle squeeze of your hand and turns to walk towards anthony. blinking, you shake your head out of your thoughts. the bridgertons and penelope seem to respect your want of excusing yourself as they grin or nod their heads in your direction but make no move towards you. you take a moment more to look at the family and then turn to leave the drawing room. you cannot help the smile that blooms on your face as you cross the entrance—

when a hand catches your wrist and pulls you further away from the drawing room. you are about to scream when you see benedict, with furrowed eyebrows and pleading ocean eyes, swiftly put his forefinger to his pursed lips.

“fuckin’— benedict!” you whisper-yell, attempting to honor benedict’s unspoken request for your silence. “are you mad? and why are you out here? have you been here this entire time?”

“may i speak with you? in private?”

the urgency in his whisper stupefies you, any frustration felt within fading away.

“of course you may.”

he slides his hand down from your wrist to take your hand—

“follow me.”

—and, with haste, leads you down the corridor and up a set of stairs.

“are you certain this is all right? the last time we had spoken alone together, you were scolded by your brother.”

“i am more than willing to take that risk with you,” benedict says sincerely, with a smile, but it is strained. it is a subtlety, but with knowing him for as long as you have now, it is something you have noticed in his expressions.

“are you all right, benedict?”

he promptly ignores your question. it is unlike benedict, to ignore one of your inquiries. to retort with a snarky quip, yes; to make a particularly theatrical countenance, yes; to respond with uncertainty, yes. but never outright, deliberate evasion. it makes your heart swell even more with worry.

you and benedict arrive at a set of grand doors. turning the gilded knob, he opens the door and, in true gentlemanly fashion, holds it for you to pass. such etiquette would have caused you to roll your eyes, but with benedict’s current distress, you will yourself to refrain.

just as you enter the room, benedict enters too, turns around, and carefully closes the door shut. he reaches into his pocket and, after some shuffling about, retrieves a key. you hear a click of the door, and before you can comment on the absolute peculiarity of this situation thus far, benedict whips himself around and faces you.

“do you have attraction to both sexes?”

“i— what?”

“do you have attraction to both sexes?” he repeats with impatience.

“to all persons,” you correct with equal impatience. “and yes, i do.”

benedict blinks at your response but shakes his head out of his thoughts.

“and how long, how long have you known? of your attractions?”

“‘of my attractions’?”

“i am asking a question, y/n!”

“you are being strange, benedict!”

“i am!—” and he turns away from you, running his hands through his hair, sucking in air through his nostrils. he turns back to you and it startles you—how frustrated his countenance is, and how vulnerable his ocean eyes are.

“i am merely trying to ask a question. i am trying to understand. please, y/n,” benedict begs. “please.”

“i— all right,” you try to soothe. “i, i don’t know how long i have known. i suppose, since i was a child? or, perhaps, truly in my adolescent years, when i found myself gazing at those with names like emily and andrew and how i—” you swallow, suddenly feeling exposed, “how i held my breath around them, whenever they were close, when— whenever they were near.”

“and do you still feel that way?”

“pardon?”

“do you still feel that way? around people? for people?”

just for the one.

“i, i do.”

after staring at you a moment more, benedict turns away again, and you quickly exhale a breath—when you’re stricken with a sudden fear.

“does this change your opinion of me?”

benedict turns back to you, frustration still in his features but confusion slowly seeping into them.

“when i—” am i crying? “when i told my sister how i felt for a girl in our neighborhood, she did not—” you try to shake your head of the fog that starts to fill your mind at remembering, “did not look at me for weeks, and when she did, i felt like, like—— like a monster.”

his face falls.

“no,” benedict states, fastly approaching you, “no, no, no, y/n.”

“i am sorry,” you choke out as he places his hands on the sides of your arms.

“why are you apologizing?” benedict whispers, applying pressure to where he holds you steady. you had not realized you’ve been shaking.

“you had asked me questions, these questions of importance to you, and i— i have made it about myself— i am so sorry, benedict.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.”

you shut your eyes close, feeling your face contort in the way it does when everything simply becomes too much for you to bear.

“you were, and are, so much more courageous than me.”

benedict’s gentle voice and strange statement rouse you to open your eyes.

“i do not understand?”

“you have told another person about your attractions to both— to all persons. i…”

he goes quiet, unable to finish his thought aloud. you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, but staring into his ocean eyes a moment more—vulnerable, scared, hurting—it dawns on you.

oh.

benedict.

your heart blooms as you shake your head.

“it is not about courage, benedict, i do not think. with my sister, it was about trust. i thought i could trust her with my feelings, with— well, with me. and she had proved me wrong.”

“and you have proved me right.”

“why are you speaking so vaguely today?” you manage to jest.

benedict rolls his eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“and you have proved me right in that i could trust you. and i do, y/n. i trust you with— with me.”

perhaps you should have thought better of it, but your emotions move faster than your logic, and your emotions call you to reach out your hand and cup benedict’s cheek as you see tears line his ocean eyes.

“as i trust you with me.”

you do not mean to do it; perhaps it’s the intimacy of your conversation, perhaps it’s the proximity of standing so close, perhaps it’s the way you can feel his bated breath mix with yours, but your eyes flicker down at benedict’s parted lips and, swallowing, you look back into his piercing, indecipherable ocean eyes and breathe,

“benedict—”

when a loud sequence of knocks thud at the locked door.

“oh god!” and you take off, running away from benedict and looking about the room when your eyes fall upon a wardrobe.

“what are you doing!” benedict whisper-shouts at you as you hasten towards your destination.

“i am trying to prevent you from being in trouble again with a certain eldest brother, and you ought to be doing the same!”

you open the door to the wardrobe, hop into it, and, grabbing the door’s edge, look at benedict and the adorable shock on his face.

“answer the door as i hide in here!” before he can babble out a response, you whisper-yell, “go!” and promptly, quietly, shut the wardrobe.

before long, you muffedly hear the clicking of the door and it being opened. there is a bit of quiet until gregory’s voice asks—

“what happened to your hair?”

“what of it?”

“it is a mess. it has not been that messy since—”

“nevermind my hair! what is it that you need?”

“have you seen y/n?”

“what? why would i know of y/n’s whereabouts?”

“do not play foolish, brother.”

“i am not playing foolish!”

“you two are always together! you and y/n are like eloise and penelope, anthony and kate, colin and food— you never see one without the other, and she hasn’t been seen since her lessons.”

“i have not seen her; does that answer your inquiry?”

“why are you so on guard! ugh, never you mind. hyacinth and i will look for her on our own, with no thanks to you.”

before benedict can retort, you hear footsteps walking away from him and down the corridor. there is another moment of quiet before you hear the shutting of the door and the turning of the key. you slowly open the wardrobe, and when you see a disgruntled benedict and benedict only, you hop out and walk towards him, unable to contain the growing smile on your face.

“you shouldn’t be so harsh on gregory. he was, after all, merely asking a question.”

“you’re taking his side?”

“of course i am. he, along with hyacinth, are my favorite bridgertons.”

“and where do i fall on this list of yours?”

“eighth,” you reply easily, and benedict’s jaw drops, “but that’s merely on a technicality— i have yet to met daphne and francesca.”

“what have i done to be thought of so little in your regard!” benedict’s expression is aghast, but you see the ghost of a smile on his lips (that you certainly do not stare at for another moment too long).

“do not mistake your low ranking in how i care for you,” you tease but then soften, unable to keep up the lark over your truth. “i care for you, benedict. for all of you. precisely as you are and what you feel and who you—” you swallow, “whoever you love.”

the jest and play fade away from his expression. benedict simply stares at you, ocean eyes once again indecipherable. before he can say anything, you step into his space and tidy his hair.

“you ruined your coif earlier,” you whisper.

“what fortune i have for someone to care for me so.”

his smile is so sweet, his voice so sincere, his ocean eyes so gentle. it is too much, it is so much.

“if you weren’t such a mischief maker,” you diverge, “you wouldn’t need such fortune.”

that makes him scoff, and you grin, quietly glad a new emotion begins to overtake your overwhelming one.

“wise words coming from a mischief maker herself.”

“a mischief maker who knows how to handle her trouble,” you respond pointedly. “speaking of which, i must be going,” and you turn from benedict and head towards the windows.

“and where are you going?” you hear the befuddled amusement in his inquiry as he follows you. you unlatch a window.

“i must leave by way of window and make it appear as if i have been out in the gardens this entire time,” you carefully open the window and peer outside. no one in sight. pleased, you turn around and are greeted by an adorably perplexed benedict. “how else will we deceive the family into believing that we were not alone together? particularly after gregory inquired after me and found you here. it would not help our situation if we left the same room, even if at staggered times.”

“this is not the first time you have escaped home,” he declares matter-of-factly.

“of course it’s not.”

“yet another thing we have in common.”

you snort but then cover your mouth. you turn around and peer out the window, hoping, willing that no one has heard you. no one in sight still. you sigh in relief and turn back to a grinning benedict.

“you are compromising my meticulous plans.”

“then you ought to be going. i shan’t compromise you any further.”

you roll your eyes deeply, ignoring the double entendre (and the flush you feel creeping across your face), but soften.

“will you be all right? are you all right?”

benedict inhales deeply and exhales equally so.

“i—— have much to think over. of myself. to myself. but, it is a comfort to know that i am not alone in this. in this experience, the feelings themselves, as well as in the navigation of them,” the corners of benedict’s mouth tug into a gentle but most radiant smile, his ocean eyes incandescent with joy. “thank you, y/n.”

the butterflies flutter violently within.

“i, i have done nothing.”

“you have done more than you know.”

unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze, you turn back to the open window and steady your hands onto the sides of the frame, leveraging your weight against the ledge to lift yourself up.

“be that as it may,” you assert perhaps too forcefully, “i truly must be going now.”

you carefully but easily shift your body over the ledge and place your boot against the exterior side of bridgerton house to start your descent. you should just go—leave and neglect the violence of feelings within you. but you do not. instead, you look up and are greeted by the sight of benedict at the window, hands also steadied on the ledge, body leaning towards the outside and downwards, beaming at you, the afternoon sun casting light upon his now even more beautiful countenance.

shit.

you will yourself to focus.

“if you need or wish to speak again on this, you will let me know, yes?”

he still smiles but you see the subtlety of his ocean eyes transforming, from delight to… something else. you don’t know what, benedict’s ocean eyes ever indecipherable in moments such as this, and it does nothing to quiet the flutterings within.

“i shall. and hopefully in a manner that does not require your escape.”

“oh, this is nothing.”

“of course it’s not.”

you smile broadly, a particular burst of fondness and play and courage overcoming you—

“farewell, princess.”

and you begin your descent down bridgerton house.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.vii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< kathani and y/n make a day of getting y/n a dress for the bridgerton ball. they meet first at bridgerton house early in the morning, before the rest of the family is awake. they break fast together, and kathani teaches y/n how to make masala chai. y/n remarks that how kathani speaks of indian drink and food reminds y/n of how her parents talk about their drink and food from their home country.

< the conversation then grows into talking about how much the ocean intrigues y/n because of how her parents have talked about it, especially in their stories of emigrating to england by ship. the mystery, beauty, comfort, fear, and joy of the ocean all in one entity.

< the conversation then shifts to kathani and y/n talking about the scrappiness of making do with what resources you have access to. it makes y/n recount a memory with her mama when she had offered to give up buying ink, quills, and paper to support the family once her elder sister had married and left their family home. >

“it is a hobby, mama, it—”

“it is important, she says pointedly. “it is your passion.” and she smiles. “we have managed once with just my and papa’s wages, we shall manage now. you need not worry, my child.”

< eventually, kathani and y/n finish their breakfast. they leave bridgerton house and hop into a bridgerton carriage to go to the modiste. it is the first time y/n is in a carriage and it is a surreal, lovely experience. it feels like a fairytale. >

–

< after arrival at the modiste and introductions, kathani decides to roam the markets of the neighborhood as madame delacroix tends to y/n in the back of the shop. >

“madame delacroix—”

“clients call me madame delacroix,” she interrupts. you feel shame flood your body. of course. you are not a client. you are a charity case. at the whims of this wealthy family that has bestowed their pity on you. how else would you be in such a position, in such a shop, before such a talented artist revered by the upper echelons of london. you’re a fool, you wish to run away, you must go when you hear what madame delacroix says next—and she’s smiling.

“friends, however, call me genevieve,” she remarks with a wink.

…

“now, y/n, how would you feel about me being,” genevieve flourishes her hand in the air, “experimental with your dress?”

a combination of fear and excitement perk up within you.

“how do you mean?”

“the ton are quite—” she seems to fight hard not to roll her eyes but admits defeat to a sigh, “—conservative in their fashion—”

“you mean dreadfully dull?” you chime in. genevieve laughs warmly.

“exactly, my dear,” she grins. “you, however, are anything but. i see the french silhouettes more fitting to your character, to your personality, to your spark.”

you feel overwhelmed by the kindness of words that flow easily from the mouth of your new friend. you have not known each other for more than ten minutes, and she seems to see something within you. it makes you feel self-conscious, undeserving, and incredibly proud.

“i would be honored to be graced with the true magnificence of your artistry, genevieve.”

your friend’s eyes shine with joy, and you cannot help but feel utterly delighted that you were the one to ignite such happiness within her.

“my dear, the ton will be green with envy at the sight of you. with your natural beauty and with my vision, you shall be an unstoppable force.”

you furrow your eyebrows at “natural beauty.” you open your mouth to comment—

“is there any person you are looking to,” she hums, looking for the right word while looking for her measuring tape, “impress?”

“no,” you lie. “i would not know anyone aside from the bridgertons and penelope.”

“ah, yes. miss penelope,” the modiste says with much fondness in her heart. “she is quite brilliant, is she not?”

you beam. “she truly is.”

“though,” genevieve ponders, wrapping the tape around your waist, “she is rather besotted with the third eldest bridgerton.”

“oh, yes, it is very appar— wait. why do you say that?”

genevieve shrugs, but you give it more thought.

“are you implying that i have affections for penelope?”

you love penelope. she has come to be one of your closest friends, and my god she is beautiful inside and out—but you have never felt an inkling for her beyond platonic love.

“i imply nothing—i’ve just said she’s besotted with the third eldest, did i not?” genevieve plays coy with a smile. “and the viscount, he is very in love with the viscountess.”

“are you now implying that i have affections for anthony?”

you feel your entire body shudder. the idea of having any sort of love for the eldest bridgerton beyond one that is platonic makes you want to— the very thought—

you put one hand to your mouth and the other to your stomach. genevieve laughs, delighted by this game she’s inflicting upon you and entirely unperturbed by your potential sick in her shop.

“so,” she continues on, “with mister colin and lady kate and their beaus eliminated, unless you are of the temptress kind—”

“no!”

“then,” laughs genevieve, “that leaves three—”

“what do you mean ‘three’!”

“y/n, please, you are a terrible liar. you have affections for one of your friends, that is clear.”

“i do not!” you lie again. she tilts her chin down, looking at you pointedly.

“as i was saying, that leaves three. there is miss francesca, miss eloise, and mister benedict.”

you feel yourself take in a small breath through your nostrils as you hear his name, and you pray that genevieve does not notice.

“aha!” she declares. your prayer has failed. there is no god. “ah, yes, mister benedict bridgerton. the second eldest.”

you hold back a groan, not wanting to give your friend evidence to her (very much correct) claim, so instead you lift your head towards the ceiling. when you snap it back down to look at her, you are startled by how her delighted expression from a mere moment ago has molded into an expression you cannot figure out.

“y/n, you must know,” she states, with so much sincerity in her tone. you are entirely confused by this shift in genevieve, and your confusion only intensifies when she gently takes your hand into both of hers.

“benedict and i... we had been acquainted— intimately, at one point.”

oh.

“oh,” you respond pathetically.

the words should not affect you. they should not affect you. they should— not— affect you.

but—

you huff out a laugh.

“genevieve, why are you sharing this? it’s all ri—”

“i share this with you,” she replies in earnest, “because while intimate, and yes, even passionate—” you try not to wince, “—it was brief and, most of all, not of depth,” she sighs. “but i can only speak for myself, can i?”

you swallow, hoping it will cure your dry throat, and with a smile say, “he is very lucky to have won your affections.”

“my dear.”

genevieve removes one of her hands from yours and brings it to the side of your face, softly wiping away a tear on your cheek. you hadn’t noticed you had started crying. you close your eyes, weak by and ashamed at the frailty of your heart, as you lean into the comfort of your friend’s hand.

after a few moments, you feel her hand leave your cheek and feel your chin held between her thumb and forefinger, lifting up your head. you open your eyes.

“anything i felt for him, i feel for him no more, y/n. he is lucky to have your affections,” genevieve declares. “and if benedict is an intelligent man, he must feel the same for you.”

you laugh.

“benedict is a beautiful person who attracts beautiful people. i am not a beautiful person.”

it is peculiar, how genevieve’s eyes flood with hurt as if you have offended her. what did you say that has hurt her so? you were only speaking of yourself. before you can think further on it, the modiste steels her expression, fire suddenly blazing her eyes.

“well! then i must prove to you what you fail to see, my dear! i dare you not to feel beautiful in the dress i make for you. and if you doubt your beauty,” she peers at you, “will you doubt my artistry?”

you laugh, this time sincerely, radiating gratitude for your new friend.

“it would be foolish to doubt your artistry.”

genevieve beams.

“exactly.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.viii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you kick your feet off again, swinging yourself back and surging forward as you look up at the stars. you try not to make too much noise. you know it’s not proper to ambledly hang about your host’s back garden at night as they all slumber. you feel as though you are taking advantage of the bridgertons’ kindness in allowing a pauper like you to stay the night at their home, in allowing you any time to stay at their home since making their acquaintance, in allowing—— you sigh again. you could not sleep. restlessness has entirely consumed you, and you had decided that some fresh air and some childlike fun would be exactly what you needed to calm your nerves. while the cool air and the beauty of the night have been a welcomed reprieve, your heart still pounds and your mind still races with anxiety over the ball tomorrow night.

“couldn’t sleep?”

you slam the heels of your boots into the ground as you hear the familiar voice, doing everything in your power to ignore the flutters of butterflies in your stomach upon hearing it, and fall over onto your knees, planting your hands into the dirt so as not to completely and embarrassingly plant your face there instead. you hear the body of the voice rushing towards you, offering his hand in your periphery. you look up as benedict’s soft ocean eyes stare into you. feeling your cheeks flood with warmth, you take your dirtied palm into his, promptly ignore the lightning that shoots out from the touch to the rest of your body, and lift yourself up with benedict’s gentlemanly assistance. you murmur your thanks as you dust off, in vain, the dirt on your nightdress.

“i did not mean to startle you.”

“well, you have very clearly failed at that,” you remark.

after one last whoosh about your knees to clear off the excess dirt, you look up at benedict and are startled by the utter sincerity of his concerned look. he looks as if he is about to say something, as if he is about to apologize, when you offer him a smile.

“i’m teasing you, benedict.”

he blinks once before breaking out into a smile, a smile that forcefully summons the butterflies within you to flutter about once again, and laughs. you cannot help but smile and laugh with him.

“may i have the honor of sitting with you, miss y/l/n?”

you roll your eyes.

“it is your home after all, you need not my permission.”

“am i to ignore the privacy a lady wishes to have?”

“a lady’s privacy, i am sure, is something you wish to have for yourself,” you retort, alluding to your lack of such a title.

he swallows.

“that is something i cannot deny.”

something shifts in the air as benedict stares at you. you feel yourself holding your breath and, in an attempt to shift away the energy from whatever this— this is (and how much it thrills and terrifies you), you playfully curtsy as you gesture to the swing next to the one that you had occupied.

“i would be delighted by your company, mr. bridgerton.”

the overwhelming gentleness of benedict’s expression transforms into an amused smile, and he follows along with an exaggerated bow of his head. you take a seat at your swing as he takes his seat at the other on your left.

“i couldn’t,” you say in reply to his first question. before he can ask why, you hastily jump into your inquiry. “and why are you up?”

“i was sketching. i had an idea for a painting and wished to lay out the preliminary work before it escaped me,” he sighs heavily, turning to look out to the rest of the garden. you feel the loss of his gaze. “i was frustrated with the results and thought some fresh air would do me some good.”

“what is the idea for your painting?”

he hesitates.

“a portrait,” he seems to admit carefully. feeling how benedict wishes not to be pressed further, you simply hum an affirmation in response.

“i am certain that your sketch is not nearly as horrendous as you think it is.”

“i appreciate your kindness, but it entirely lacked their spark.”

“you seem quite fond of this person,” you huff with a bit of a laugh, jealousy starting to pool in the pit of your stomach.

benedict smiles.

“i am.”

and he turns to look at you.

you swallow, averting your gaze from soft intense ocean eyes, and kick your feet off the ground to begin a gentle swing.

“you should continue with the portrait,” you rattle on in a hasty attempt at diversion. “not only are you blessed with natural talent but you are also fueled with such a passionate determination to ever improve your skill because that is how much you love your craft. an undying devotion to something for which you so deeply care. it is admirable and extremely apparent in all that you do.”

“and what of you?”

“and what of me?”

“of your passions?”

you scoff.

“my passions?”

“your writing.”

you halt your swing and whip your head to benedict. he is grinning with stupid satisfaction, and you would find a way to wipe it off his stupid (beautiful) face if you were not so aghast by the situation.

“how do you know of that?”

“well, whenever you are not reading or conversing with eloise, penelope, and kate; or playing make-believe with my youngest siblings; or squabbling with colin and anthony, you are busily writing in a folded quarto. or, rather, crossing in a folded quarto. crossing twice, if you can manage. you are quite the prolific writer.”

you gape at him, and he continues to grin.

“eloise also told me.”

“she told you!” you shriek.

“indeed. it is, after all, how you met penelope, apparently. and penelope is how you met eloise. and eloise is how we— how you met the rest of us.”

you slump in your swing.

“i feel betrayed.”

benedict laughs heartily, and you shoot him a glare. he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“she was merely sharing a fact.”

“she is merely a traitor.”

benedict laughs once again, and you summon all the strength within you not to choke it out from his lungs.

“you seem not to handle perception of yourself very well, y/n.”

“when you are me, it is easy not to be perceived,” you mumble, still reeling from the traitorous nature of your loudmouthed friend.

there is a small silence.

“i do not think that is true.”

you turn to him, once again surprised by the gentleness of his sincerity.

“i see you,” benedict declares in a quiet but steadfast voice. his ocean eyes, indecipherable once more, gaze into you.

you feel yourself hold your breath, unable to stop the truth from ringing out in your heart, mind, body, and soul.

i love you.

you shoot up from your swing.

“i must be going, it is quite late—”

“y/n, wait—”

“thank you, benedict,” you say sincerely, turning to him. “i— i really enjoyed our conversation, as brief as it was.”

he blinks and offers you a small smile. i must control myself, you reprimand as you feel the butterflies viciously flutter within.

“as did i.”

“good night,” you whisper. with all the self-control you can muster, you turn away from benedict and hasten towards bridgerton house.

“good night, y/n,” you vaguely hear him say from the swings that brought you together. you attempt to tune out the wistfulness that you hear, that you imagine you hear in his voice.

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pensbridge · 3 months

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Master Post Bridgerton Live Event Season 3

Let me just say so much of what they said leans into exactly how I pictured it.

○ Some words to describe the season: Shonda-"intimate" / Jess B-"confidence" / Luke Newts-"unexpected" / Nicola-"romantic" / Luke Thom-"zoom in"

○ They talk about Colin's words last season and say it was a good place to start in the story/journey; confirm apology will come

○ Pen has 1 main suitor besides Colin who takes a real interest in her (Spoiler: it's Lord Debling)

○ Julia Quinn said it is a good friends to lovers story. She sounded so excited!

○ Someone (either Shonda, Julia or Jess) said they have some good awkward banter.

○ Julia Quinn really confirmed the Colin-Pen hand scene (1st real emotional and physically intimate scene for them)

○ How Jess B talks about Colin (again) gives me hope for his personal journey-mentioned about the 3rd son "not knowing his place in the world" & more

○ Protective El of Colin confirmed (we get El and Colin scenes), but she still loves Pen; Luke N. called it a non-romantic love triangle between the 3

○ Benedict takes roles of Anthony; he can fall into different roles very well, but who is he and what does he want?

○ Will and Alice acquire a new title this season; Martins talked about how they are "drawn out of the shadows"

○ Adjoa talked about how Lord Ledger affected her; called that romance "life-changing"; QCABS enriched Lady Danbury story coming into season 3

○ Lady D. personal journey-she's "shook" at an arrival that happens 👀

○ Golda-How do you do private intimacy in the view of the public (George and QC)? / she loves the Brimsley relationship

○ When talking about QC picking the diamond of the season said she's bored of what's going on and is "searching for something different"

○ [Other tidbit-they're hosting a Bridgerton wedding for a lucky real-life couple.]

○ Shonda quote about Bridgerton always "finding a way to give female characters agency" and Pen has a good way of coming into this in this season

○ Nicola-"so much happens" in their story

○ They talked about how the show has changed their lives-Claudia said she always walks away proud of what she's done and essentially there's not one part of the job she's unsatisfied with. aww; Adjoa said "a space for everyone"

○ Season 3 is "for the wallflowers"- Adjoa [they mentioned this a lot; the interaction on this between Adjoa and Nicola just made it seem like there is Lady Danbury-Pen relationship]

○ Nic and Newts recreated the pic in the mirror with candle stick!! what?! / They also watch fan edits and send them to each other

○ Easter egg in almost every episode according to Jess B. and they are "raising the bar on visuals"- "even brighter and more spectacular than ever"

○ Superlatives: most like character-Luke Newton; least-Golda; most bloopers-Johnny Bailey or Claudia (and I think she was offended at first, lol)

○ Chaos in Featherington fam because Pen steps out (Portia doesn't like when Pen changes from her citrus dresses)

○ Nicola "didn't expect to be as emotional as it was" from the first 2 episode screening

○ Adjoa said things will make you laugh then quickly after cry

○ Claudia said people make mistakes and people fall..., etc.

○ Theme: "Find your light." -Jess B.

○ The line in QCABS "We are untold stories" is what this season is about

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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Gala (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, just lots of thirst and suggestiveness Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

Author's Note: Requested by and dedicated to @queenofmean14 Bit cracky and intended to be humorous 😜 Also credit to @broooookiecrisp from whom I pilfered the job details of her modern Anthony.

“He’s here.” Security announced in your earpiece. Not that you needed them to. You knew the Jaguar as it pulled up. So did the line of paparazzi who started to jostle for the clearest shot. But when he stepped out, you didn’t even know your own name. Anthony Bridgerton, CEO of Bridgerton House Enterprises and your boss, was going to make tonight even more difficult for you.

He had talked to you about his planned outfit beforehand, but you hadn’t gotten a preview and hadn’t envisioned it like this. A perfectly tailored velvet tux jacket accented with a diamond bee brooch. Smart shoes, an effortlessly coiffed wave of hair and most arresting of all, a pair of sleek shades that he slid on as he exited the car even though it was long past sundown. An errant corner of your brain replayed some 80’s song lyrics, but you couldn’t deny that the entire look worked. It worked entirely too well for you as your body flushed with heat and breathing suddenly became a task. The man could wear the hell out of a tux.

Granted, he always looked mouthwatering no matter how he was dressed, and as his executive assistant for the span of eight months you had seen the spectrum of his wardrobe. Everything hung so perfectly on his muscled frame, exuding old money power with a currently fashionable touch. Clothes made the man, but you suspected Anthony Bridgerton could elevate a bin bag. It was a visual challenge you had adapted to in your job, over time finding it easier and easier to speak to him without choking on your tongue first. His arrogant playfulness had helped with that and the two of you had built a deep mutual trust, a friendship even. You had bonded in the trenches of corporate crises enough to sling endearing insults at each other and always be blatantly honest. Except about one thing. You could obviously never reveal to him how desperately you wanted to jump his bones. How your blood simmered when his voice dropped to a certain pitch. How you broke into gooseflesh whenever he shook your hand and met you with something caring in his deep umber eyes. The light flirtation you both fell into from time to time certainly didn’t help either. And now with him in black tie, you began to wonder if this job was hazardous to your health.

Tonight was the company’s annual charity gala. A star-studded event at one of London’s best hotels where celebrities and socialites donated funds for the hospitals partnered with BHE. Anthony would give the closing speech and as planned, was the last to arrive on the red carpet so that he would get unencumbered press focus. You had spent the entire day on site making sure everything was prepped to perfection and now you stood at the top of the entry stairs with the other staff, ready to welcome the MVP of the evening. Given the high profile of the event, you had dressed for the occasion too. You would be seated at his table and weren’t going to be photographed looking like an intern. You had found a dress you loved, a shimmering number that showed off your best assets, and splurged on a hair and makeup artist. Maybe your position made you more akin to the prince’s valet but if this was how you got into the ball, you were going to make the most of it.

You watched Anthony pausing for photos, realizing this was one of the rare times you could observe him from afar. He moved with such confidence, back straight and head held high. He would run his fingers through his greying temples or brush a thumb over his stubbled chin while flashing that killer smile and your legs wanted to give out. He knew how to work a camera. It was one of the many awful, wonderful things about him. But if the attention helped raise money for charitable causes it was all worth it. You supposed your undergarments could suffer for the greater good.

As he moved along, you noticed he was licking his lips. A peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he faced your direction. He was probably hot under all the camera flashes. But that small gesture was infecting you with heat too. He really needed to stop or you were liable to tumble down the steps and really make a headline. It took all your strength not to fan yourself with the tablet you were holding until at last he ascended and gave you a dazzling smile, falling into step beside you as you moved indoors.

You hovered in his orbit as he was greeted by the first throng of attendees at the bar and you called for a flute of champagne. When he was alone at last for a moment, you pulled him into a quiet corner and offered him the drink.

“Thirsty?”

“Sorry?” He moved closer, inclining his head. He was curiously still wearing his sunglasses indoors. You could smell his cologne. Amber and smoke and spice and it made you want to sink your teeth into his neck.

“Are you thirsty?” You said louder, shoving the glass into his hand as he chuckled.

“Why do you ask?” He took a sip.

What a stupid question. Couldn’t you just offer him some refreshment? Didn’t humans need to hydrate? Now you had to answer him.

“I um…” You wavered. “I saw you. You were…licking your lips out there so I just figured…”

His brows show up over his frames and he grinned. “You’re very attentive.”

Something shot down your spine. His voice was getting close to that register. “It’s my job to take care of your needs.” You reminded him, though you laid on a heavy layer of sarcasm.

“And you are so very good at it.” He rumbled, reaching the danger pitch. Oh god, he was going to assault you both visually and aurally at the same time, wasn’t he? He was going to flirt with you while daring to look like that. He was cruel, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

He confirmed it by stepping even closer, turning so the front of his velvet jacket brushed your bare arm and he leaned down to murmur directly in your ear. “You look incredible by the way.”

You swallowed hard, instructing yourself to inhale and exhale. But that wasn’t really helping because his intoxicating scent was making things worse. You had to keep your head. You had to spar with him or else you were going to melt into the carpet. “So do you.” You pursed your lips and gave him an exaggerated once over as if you were only mildly impressed. “The glasses were a good choice.”

He smiled and you detected something genuine, like he was actually eager for your praise. He tapped the frames lightly. “Useful too. I don’t have to give anyone my undivided attention if I don’t want to. I could be talking to them while scanning the crowd and they would be none the wiser.”

This sounded like the setup for a joke. Something about not listening to you as you conducted him through his schedule for the evening. You were beginning to resent those glasses and you would let him know if he tried to get sassy with you.

“So what are you looking at?” You smirked, waiting for the punchline.

He took another sip of champagne, facing you but now you couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t staring directly over your head. “A beautiful woman who is driving me to distraction.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. The man lived at the office and didn’t really have time for a social or romantic life. He would have to double up and treat a work event as an opportunity for a hookup. Especially at an event as glamorous as this, with so many swanlike women floating around and everyone dressed in their finest, you understood, despite the envy it flared in you.

“Ah, I see. Is there someone I should invite over to your table?”

He shook his head, downed the last of the champagne and set it aside with a decisive clink. “Unnecessary. You’re already at my table.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took your brain several seconds to even comprehend its meaning. You must have been going mad. Your heart started to pound, fueled equally by embarrassed confusion and ridiculous hope. There was no way. Absolutely no way on earth he could have said what you thought he said. And even if he had, he was just toying with you, right?

“I’m not…” You stuttered, hoping he couldn’t see the blush you felt creeping up your neck. “You weren’t…you weren't looking at me.”

Then your breath caught in your throat as he rounded on you, standing directly before you so your back was pressed against the wall and all you could see was him. He loomed, black velvet and chestnut hair and perfect stubble. That scent was making you feral and now you could feel his hot breath across your skin. You could see yourself in the reflection of his dark lenses, peering up at him like trapped prey. This was how you died. Or lost your job. You were sure of it.

“How would you know?” He smiled wolfishly and tapped the glasses again. “All the better to see you with, my dear.”

You were hit by lightning. The gooseflesh rippled across your skin. Your underwear soaked. All you could do was stand there and tremble as he ran a finger idly up and down your arm. You were surprised sparks weren’t erupting out of your skin where he touched you.

“Why do you think I was licking my lips?” He asked in a low voice, finally removing the shades to pierce through you with his dilated, chocolate eyes. “I’m afraid even with the champagne, I’m still thirsty.” Then he did it again, flicking that weapon of mass destruction across his luscious bottom lip and staring at you pointedly.

Your brain functioned enough to realize that he was breathing just as heavy as you were. And that he was opening a door, giving you an option. The option you had been fantasizing about since the day you met him. It seemed too good to be true. You were half convinced you were dreaming in a coma after faceplanting down the steps outside thanks to his appearance. But the prickle of your electrified nerves and the river between your thighs felt real enough to persuade you that you were indeed still in your own body. You were not going to pass this up, whatever it might lead to. Really, you wanted to scream aloud like you had won the lottery.

But instead you whispered, “There’s water in the green room.”

He grinned broadly, creasing that dimple in his left cheek that you wanted to lick right off his face. “Excellent idea. I think we’ll need an emergency private conference to…go over my notes.”

His hand found the small of your back and you prayed that your legs would carry you that far. This was really going to throw off the itinerary but you were good at your job, you could adjust. You smiled back at him. “Whatever you say, sir. I’m here to take care of your needs.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #modern au #thirst #met gala #jonathan bailey

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folklauerate · 4 months

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I’ll say something else while I’m here-one of my biggest issues with Bridgerton s2 was the lack of cohesiveness. Jesus Christ no one is upset with characters making unlikable decisions and if you want a wedding for the sake of drama, Shondaland, have a fucking wedding, but make it earned! And on top of that, the wedding episode had the fucking audacity to be boring as shit! Just all trodding on and operating off of the assumption the viewer would be aghast and would sit through nearly an hour of boring yawn snooze because there were “stakes” and it seemed like the main pair might not get together. Like for fuck’s sake have as much drama as you like but at least make it well written! Instead the wedding episode is a dirge and not because it’s a reflection of some character’s mental state or any seemingly deep reason, no; it’s like they decided there would be a wedding and shrugged when it came to getting the character’s there. It doesn’t count as good writing if you’ve spent the past months/years trying to wrap your head around or write fic around the reasons why x decision by y characters make sense to fill in gaps that shouldn’t be there in the first place and that’s all this fandom has done.

People’s issue with side plots taking up too much time isn’t really that they take up too much time-it’s that none of them follow a set of overarching themes of the season and feed into them or a main storyline in a significant way, giving the illusion to the viewer that they’re completely separate from the romance at the core and therefore taking away from it, as opposed to everything being harmonious.

On top of that, the characterizations are so fucking varied and there’s a large tonal shift between s1 and s2 in terms of the way the Bridgersibs interact with one another. Siblings can fight and be rude and whatever to one another but for them to turn into completely different people out of nowhere is so ??

And on the topic of characterizations-WHERE WAS KATE’S??? Anthony gets 28363938 motivations for why he is the way he is and then is honestly left floundering with all of them, until you’re honestly a bit ?? as to why he can’t marry for love, and then you get Kate who is just… There. Why can’t she marry for love? Why is she hellbent against marrying? Why is she prioritizing her family’s finances and Mary/Edwina above herself? What conversations did she have with her father before he died to make her this way or was she always like this? What were their lives like in India? I could keep going! At least in the book you get some half hearted “I’m too ugly and old to get a match” reason but in the show no one is going to fucking believe Simone Ashley is too ugly or old to get whatever lord she wants 😭✋ and THEN???? To top it all off-Kate and Anthony don’t have a single meaningful discussion around an entire eight episodes!!!!! Not one!!!!!!!!! What fucking growth happens between them fucking and the coma and then their fucking dance to have them propose? If the actors themselves had to invent all these so called secret conversations their characters had in between everything to make things make sense, I really don’t think that’s a hallmark of good writing. They rush that happy ending in there at the end and it feels like they forgot they had to end the fucking show with these two characters together and they just said “fuck it let them kiss” and that’s what we got. WHAT CONVERSATION OF SUBSTANCE DID THEY HAVE. And what fucking argument can you make that it’s okay that it didn’t happen on screen??) NONE!!! It’s TV! It’s a VISUAL FORMAT??? Oh my god.

I told myself I wouldn’t rant about this, just redirect people to walle’s thoughts on this, which is (in her own words) how she sat shiva for the fucking wreck of what Bridgerton s2 is. Walle if you don’t know wrote a thousand cuts and s2 was the nail in the coffin for her. It was so so so bad. It went against such basic principles of storytelling. The writing was so abhorrent. It was insane. And to defend it feels more insane it feels like you’ve been taken hostage by this damn show and you’re writing thinkpieces on tumblr and twitter to make it make sense!

What grates me is that it really could’ve been good. The juice was there. The actors are amazing. The production team is clearly so so dedicated and hard working. IT WAS ALL THERE. Honestly the way the show was marketed in the trailer feels completely different from how it came out and I have to think there was some fuckshit going on behind the scenes given the large tonal shift during/after ep 4 and CVD’s hasty and odd departure.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton season 2 #my thoughts #told myself I wouldn’t get mad about people’s opinions this year and yet here we are

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thequietesthing · 1 day

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Bridgerton S3 Part 1 REVIEW!!!

Gentle readers, the time is finally upon us…

SPOILERS AHEAD - books and tv show

Read at you your own risk

let’s go storyline by storyline

Polin: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR. they are great. the first episode you wanna smack CB up and down bc he behaves like an ass. Pen my darling i love you but some of your scenes give me second hand embarrassment and i had to watch them thru my fingers lol. I enjoyed the insertion of the character of Lord Debling; he was there, he did his part, which was basically making Colin more evidently jealous. In the books there is no need for that because we follow the thought process of the characters, but in a visual adaptation they have no way to do that so they used the old fashioned jealousy trope, that never disappoints. Confession time, I’m really not a big fan of friends to lovers because a lot of times there is the risk of falling into a series of banalities, BUT in the series, like in the books, it was really really well done. I like how they showed the progressive obsession that Colin has with Penelope, (and I feel like the best is yet to come), because of one thing you can be sure is that that man is OBSESSED with his (future) wife. Scene in the carriage: NAILED IT. Personally I’m also really fond of the scene in the book when he follows her and finds out that she’s LW, which from the promo for the second part I assume will happen (yey!). ALSO THE MIRROR SCENE. I’M WAITING.

Moving on

Francesca: my beloved. Not only do we share a name, but also a core deep awkwardness and the inability to be at the center of attention for more than two minutes straight; not to mention a deep appreciation for silence. I’M LOVING her storyline, I think it has great potential, and we’re finally discovering something more of the mysterious Bridgerton. The way I SCREAMED when John presented himself at Bridgerton House!!!! He is also a sweetheart and they are absolutely lovely together (this characterisation is needed as it will serve as a counterbalance for Michael later). Also Hannah Dodd is just the sweetest tootie-patootie and has such an angel face (which makes me really eager to see her in her season, IYKYK). Idk if you can tell that her book is my favourite lol.

Eloise: my girl, I cannot blame you. Like, let’s be honest, when a friend keeps something from you, especially of such magnitude, you can’t help of being a bit mad. I do think that she still has a great love for Penelope and it shows during these first four episodes. Also, only Eloise can make Cressida Cowper nice apparently. I think it’s going to be very interesting in the second part see her trying to protect her brother from Pen’s secret, but I do believe that in the promo that they showed us there are mostly scenes from episode 5 and 6. She has embraced the mentality if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em, which makes her less “contrary” to society but she still has her quirkiness and wit that distinguishes from the rest.

Kanthony: they are happy, they are in love and they are enjoying their marital bed, and honestly who can blame them?! I love that they are happy and that they are showing us them being happy. I feel that is something that lacked with Daphne and the Duke because of actors unavailability, but I’m happy that both Johnny and Simone decided to continue. Especially Johnny because I have to say I’m a sucker for Anthony as “father-figure” for the youngest siblings, so I’m hoping for a scene with Frannie/Eloise/Gregory/Hyacinth and Anthony, even in future seasons.

Benedict/Violet: I really think that the next season will be Benedict season, and I will elaborate later why, because my man here needs a change of scenery. 3 seasons, every single time the same freaking storyline for my beautiful Benny that is a precious soul and could do so much more than to shag the first person that comes across his path. Violet is really sweet. She worries for her children a lot, like it’s normal for any mother but she’s learning, with a trial-error approach, how to let a bit go. I’m not entirely convinced of this Marcus guy. I think that Lady Danbury needs to sit Violet down and come clean of why she and her brother are estranged because she (being me) needs to know.

Mondrich family: they are so cute, but I feel (and hope) that we will be able to close their story this season because it’s starting to feel a bit dragged on.

All in all, the first part of S3 gets 4,5/5⭐️

Now, my predictions: like I said before I do think that the next season will be Benedict turn, and not Francesca or Eloise, for the following reasons

1.They don’t know what to do with the poor guy anymore, every season a different person but his story arc feels a bit incomplete. They did something last season with the whole art school debacle but we are mostly back to square one.

2.Eloise has not given any indication that she has started writing to Mr.Philip. I think she will start at the end of this season or beginning of the next one.

3.Since we don’t have anymore debutantes for a while, I think next season will begin with Francesca and John’s wedding, and as a secondary storyline they will start to show more of their relationship + they will introduce Michael and all their dynamics.

4.If they continue, I believe Eloise will have the fifth season , with her running away after Benedict (her favourite brother) gets married.

ALSO, and this is more a personal curiosity, I wonder what they will do with LW. Technically, in the books Penelope is discovered and LW dies out; in fact in E/F/H/G we don’t have any LW at the beginning of the chapters but extrapolates of letters from the main character to other characters. It’s interesting I think because, if they do decide to cut her out completely, it will change the format of the series quite a bit as it has become such a core part of how the show is perceived by the audience. Which leads me to a reflection on how they decided to promote/present the show. If Benedict is actually next, I think it will be a bit of a transitional season. Let me explain myself; I don’t think that the queen (and the court in general) will have a big role like she’s been having for the past seasons because the next Bridgerton debutante will be Hyacinth, which is quite a few seasons away. We won’t have anymore LW (technically) and also the stages set in the books, especially for E, but also for F partially, takes place far way from London. If they actually manage to get to H/G seasons (which I hope because I want to see Garrett and Lucy), they will bring back the entire London setting. OBVIOUSLY ASSUMING THAT THEY FOLLOW WHAT IS WRITTEN IN THE BOOKs AND DON'T DECIDE TO SWITCH IT UP AND MAKE EVERYTHING HAPPEN IN LONDON (honestly, I hope not)

All this to say that I think that they split this season for two reasons: one of purely economical nature; being the fact that they have been absent from the screens for very long and in order to keep the people talking about the series more (and for longer) and to regain all the money spent, is very strategic to split it in half, keeping engagement high for all the time before/in between/after. The second reason I think is of narrative choices, if we assume that I’m right and Benedict is next, for the reasons I told you before. They want to show a bit of a detachment between the Bridgerton we have known until know and the one that will come later.

Ok I’m done. Gosh, how I ramble.

I have a sixth sense that I need to add this, just to be sure: these are my opinions, feel free not to share them just please be nice if you want to manifest your disagreement.

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becasworldsstuff · 3 months

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Hi, so can you do Colin Bridgerton lover where they are a secret relationship because of all the stuff that comes with being public and they aren’t ready for that but somehow Lady Whistledown finds out and it’s exposed.

-> pairings: Colin bridgerton x reader

-> warnings: none

Both of their eyes managed to lock together every time the two were in the same room, they danced with others, twirled around the room unknowingly to anyone else apart from the two of them.

Nothing could give away the love their hearts were laced with. So they began to find happiness in being together and wanting to be married as soon as possible. Anthony and Vioket were ecstatic, the girl couldn't have been a more perfect match for their family and their beloved Colin. No one knew except their family and the dark rooms into which they would find themselves happily expressing their love without a care in the world.

The room had began being suffocating for both of them because of the lack of liberty, they breathed the need to conjoin their hands and look into each other's eyes. And so y/n decided to leave the dance room in search of some peace and silence. Colin's eyes traveled along her figure as she kept going further away from his visual and so he decided to follow her, they found themselves in a room, where they hugged each other both in need of physical touch.

Her eyes watery as she looked into his "I can't help it Colin, I need to marry you, no one will ever be you and seeing you out there dance, it makes me melt, because you are not holding me" she says pointing at herself with heavy breathing "I want to marry you" he says with wavering words "words are not enough colin" she goes out of the room, running into a soft body draped in a beautiful dress "oh my, I'm so sorry miss featherington have I hurt you" Penelope eyes looked at her with a softness in them usual for her "don't worry, was just trying to escape my mom" "can I help? I know a way to the kitchen, here, we could eat some biscuits and talk if you'd deemed it interesting" "lovely" the two giggled soundly as they went to the kitchen in secret.

Dearest reader, this author finds herself in need of talking of one of the jewels of this season, the splendid and exquisite future miss bridgerton, I can offer the greatest of my wishes as Mr Colin bridgerton, the third son of the late viscount and viscountess Bridgerton, it seems the two were seen exchanging eyes as well as their mamas, who talked in secrecy for the entire night. However I find myself obliged to talk about miss featherington, once again missing...

The girl took the paper and stopped reading as lady whistledown kept using Penelope as a punching bag, the vallet came running in the tea room announcing miss bridgerton and the viscount bridgerton "I assume you read the paper" laughed violet to the girl's mother "don't worry dear, it will all work out, I know you were hoping for a titled man to bring luck in your sister's marriages but it's now the time to marry" "My mother's right, we are here to start organizing the wedding" Anthony said looking at his future sister-in-law.

The two lovers looked at eachother nodding and gulping down, "I'd like to use as engagement ring my nanas ring if it's fine with you miss Bridgerton" "of course my dearest"

Their eyes locked while she walked down the aisle, after a long mass the two were declared wife and husband and they finally kissed for the first time.

This reader deemed fit put in her best wishes to the new lord and miss bridgerton, to a happy and long marriage

#asks #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton

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bridgertonbabe · 1 month

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Baby Alexander being the definition of an angry chihuahua to anyone but his mother is such a visual😂😂 Like I feel like he’d get a couple comparisons to Eloise before Violet pointed out that Benedict was just as possessive towards her when he was a baby.

It takes a while but gradually baby Alex becomes more accepting of not just his father but also other family members holding him and taking care of him, though of course the Bridgerton family are greatly amused by the baby's stubborn love for being doted on by his mother and his mother alone.

"Wow, I think he's even fussier than Eloise was as a baby." Daphne remarked after Alex spent the entirety of being held by Colin crying incessantly until he was returned to Sophie and instantly chilled out.

"Hey! How would you even remember?" Eloise shot back.

"In defence of your sister, she did suffer from colic." Violet pointed out as she gently stroked Alex's head.

"Yeah but she only ever wanted dad, much like Alex does with Soph." Anthony acknowledged.

"Your father had the magic touch." Violet smiled fondly. "He always had such a way with you all as babies... well except for Benedict, that is."

"Really?" Gregory asked from the children's chair he had wedged himself on to sit at an equally small table helping his little nephews assembling their Lego blocks.

"Oh your poor father couldn't get a look in edgeways when Ben was a baby. Nobody else would do but me."

"Ohhhhhhh. So Alex is basically Ben 2.0." Kate realised aloud.

Everyone in the room then turned to Benedict, his siblings all shooting derisive smirks his way.

"So it seems you have no one else to blame for Alex being a mama's boy but yourself." Anthony elbowed him.

"He's Dad's revenge." Colin added.

"He is, he really is." Violet giggled as she continued gazing down lovingly at her newest grandchild.

Benedict had opened his mouth to argue back against his siblings but following his mum's agreement on the matter, he exhaled in defeat and fully accepted that Alex was simply following in his footsteps - and internally apologised to his late father for putting him through the exact same father-son experience he was now having to endure himself.

#asks #benophie babies #alexander bridgerton

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mariailoveyou-guerin · 8 months

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what did I say ladies and gentlemen didn’t I tell y’all😂 the internet is so fake and fickle and literally has hurd 🐑 mentality it’s wild if one person says something and few agree then suddenly all agree like they don’t have any minds of their own they just following whatever is in and new popular I told y’all since day Colin is the finest man along with Ben, in that whole Bridgerton show this don’t include QC men so don’t be coming for me because I didn’t inlcunde prince adolphus who’s so stunning too, Anthony visually is it not doubt about it and not in s1 but s2 overall he’s pretty but character wise personality and visually COLIN was always nr1 I’m sorry Benedict was nr2 just bc as character he’s just not fully fleshed and is just the HIMBOO of the family which is why many love him he’s just there being cute nice silly dumb and pretty hopefully he’ll get too be a more real person and not just the pretty dumb brother! Ofc in his szn he’ll be full fleshed character and person

BTW Us COLIN POLIN fans since day1 how do we feel don’t hall just love winning and knowing your taste and mind is superior to everyone and y’all have your own brains and aren’t just brainless zombies that follow whatever the some people with horrendous taste on the internet say and do 😂 me being a sheep I could never I have a mind of my own I could never just follow whatever someone tells just because it’s popular and in

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #luke newton #luke thompson #anthony bridgerton #polin #jonathan bailey #as Colin girly since day1 I always win.#benedict bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #penelope featherington #our season gonna eat so good polin girlies #nothing I hate more then oh everyone likes it or him so I’m gonna like it mentatily or until someone tells me to like it #you are female with reasonable ability and brain please use it

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bm-blog01 · 9 months

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My Favourite Kate Looks: The Best of the Rest

Now that my top 10 favourite Kate looks is complete it is time to look at five of Kate's looks that didn't quite make it into my favourite top 10, but that I loved in the show otherwise.

In no particular order here is the 'best of the rest'.

Conservatory Ball: This is the first of two times we see Kate in Bridgerton Blue. Her dress compliments Anthony's overall look, and it is fitting she is wearing his family colours when she learns his name. It is a lighter version of the colour that Eloise is wearing, and unlike Eloise the sheer overdress appears to be white/silver (Eloise's appears to be blue). That Kate is wearing a blue gown separates her from Edwina and Mary, who were both in Pink, and is a visual alignment of her with the Bridgertons.

Library Nightgown: There were several scenes when we saw Kate in her nightgown, with her hair loose, but the one that stood out to me was in the library scene. The night gown paired with the purple pashmina shawl was just beautiful and added to an overall softness and vulnerability in her look, further it complimented the vulnerability of both her and Anthony in the scene.

Diamond Ball look: At the Diamond Ball Kate is wearing a white gown with silver and gold embellishments. This is yet another instance where Kate is slightly different to her family, we see Mary and Edwina in very pale pinks (almost white). Kate's look here is complementary to Lady Danbury, who is in a gold gown with a silver overdress, but also Kate is visually aligned with the Bridgertons, with the gown having details that complement both the gold pattern on Anthony's waistcoat and the silver detailing on Eloise and Violet's dresses. Further to that Kate's hair, whilst still in her signature plaits (braids), is adorned with crystals and Indian jewellery (ref: Farida Ghwedar). Further (and this could be a stretch), but Eloise's tiara for the Diamond Ball appears to be crystals in a similar delicate design to Kate's hair adornment.

Tea at Aubrey Hall: When we see Kate at Aubrey Hall making her tea she is wearing a light teal green dress with a purple buta/paisley patterned Spencer. Kate's hair is pulled back in what appears to be a tight undo, complete with her signature plaits (braids), however it does look that her hair may not have been pulled back quite as tightly thus beginning the undoing and loosening of her hair. In her hair is a light teal green floral accessory that matches the colour of her dress. The look overall isn't one of her dramatic looks, but the colours work well, suit her, and in all as we see her sitting on the balcony she looks at home and very much like the lady of the house.

Garden talk with Lady Mary: In this look Kate is wearing a green dress, with a darker green Spencer jacket over top. The jacket has embroidery on the lapels and a peplum in the back, with this Kate is wearing her hair in an undo with her signature plaits (braids) and some loose tendrils.

That is my list done, next week I will begin a series on my favourite Anthony looks, possibly from across both seasons.

#bridgerton season 2 #bridgerton #kate sharma

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faye-tale · 6 months

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If you were to set up a Bridgerton Taskmaster AU, who would you cast?

I’ve been thinking about this all morning (cause I’m just Done with work and needed a good mental break lol) At first my mind went to Anthony as the taskmaster, but then I was like wait no Kate as Taskmaster and Anthony as little Alex Horne would be hilarious… but I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Hiiiiiiiii, my lovely!! 🫶

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. It sent me off on a thought tangent all afternoon, so thank you.

I completely agree with your assessment - Kate as Taskmaster and Anthony as the long-suffering assistant Alex Horne. What a visual!

Also, cos I had to, I then had to put 6 of the other Bridgerton sibs in as contestants (sitting in alphabetical order, as they do on the show) Yes I know there are only ever 5 on each season - hush you:

Benedict = The Ray of Sunshine

Just fucking happy - happy to be there, happy to do the tasks...you cannot wipe the smile from their face. Even losing just elicits a grin and a laugh. They will even help their competitors as much as possible, sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice. The very few times you see them frustrated or annoyed are always deeply memorable.

Colin = The Super-Fan

A massive fan of the show and desperately wants to win, to the point of genuine fury when they feel they have been treated unfairly (never without a sense of humour, however). Horrendously competitive but in a hilarious way.

Daphne = The BOSH

Meets the task head-on, generally without any hesitation or forethought whatsoever. Whatever the most straightforward solution, they will go for it. These contestants rarely panic, but when they do, it's beautiful.

Eloise = The Lateral Thinker

Does their best to outsmart the task, with varying degrees of success. Any loophole, any technicality, they will find and exploit. Depending on how far they push it, this may work to their advantage or cost them enormously.

Francesca = who the fuck knows, next

Gregory = The "...I'm slightly worried about this person"

Comes up with shit nobody else would. Solutions that are completely off the wall, sometimes scarily so. Sometimes, this contestant can appear to be the most quiet and unassuming of people, up until the moment the task footage starts rolling.

Hyacythin = The Chaos Machine

Fundamentally unpredictable. Will find the weirdest side roads and twisting paths. Seems to simply do whatever pops into their head.

Okay I had far too much fun with this post (as if you couldn't tell). Thank you SO MUCH for giving me the chance to come up with some shit that overlaps two of my fave comfort shows. Love you 🫶😁🧡🧡

#faye answers #bridgerton sibs in the taskmaster world #I bloody love it

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klarolijahs · 2 years

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Benedict being sick and tired of Colin being clueless about his feelings for Penelope so he decided to make him jealous..by flirting with Penelope lol 😭

Thank you anon, this got my writing bunny working! Not sure if this is exactly what you were looking for but here it is.

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For a long time now Colin had considered Benedict to be his favorite brother. Gregory was adorable but still too young to partake completely with his older brothers. Anthony was just too much entirely - too stern, too strict, too set in his ways of behaving more like their father than their brother.

Benedict had been a big brother when he needed someone to bail him out of his stupid decisions and a friend when he wanted to be stupid. Benedict understood, more than anyone, that Colin felt stifled in London and the ton. When everyone despaired over his endless thirst for travel, Benedict encouraged him. When Mother hurled every suitable debutante his way, Benedict cleverly distracted her, winking at her with his boyish charm and rescuing him from a banal conversation with a girl barely out of the schoolroom.

Currently, however, Colin was very willing to take Benedict and his boyish grin on a trip to the Mediterranean and dump him straight in the ocean. Unwittingly, Colin felt a smile creep up on him at the visual of shoving his beloved brother into the turbulent seas of the mediterranean.

Because currently Benedict was doing something particularly annoying.

Flirting with Penelope Featherington.

Penelope Featherington.

And so in the open when anyone could see.

Where even her mother could see.

Colin let out a groan as he saw a maddening gleam in Portia Featherington’s eyes as she followed Benedict and Penelope’s promenade around the lake with hawk-like precision. Colin half expected her to start distributing wedding cards before their turn was over. He wouldn’t blame her, because Benedict hadn’t ever cared about propriety but he knew to keep away from the ladies at the ton.

And yet, there Benedict was, strolling with Penelope on his arm, standing a little too close, leaning in a bit too far and most definitely whispering something indecorous that caused her to blush prettily and then laugh the next second. Colin debated between intervening himself, forcing Anthony to interrupt them or simply picking up the rock in his line of sight and hurling it at Benedict.

This was Penelope.

His friend.

His Pen.

Benedict was old. An entire ten years older than Penelope. And yes, while that age gap wasn’t just normal but expected in couples - it was still ludicrous.

And it had to be stopped.

Now.

Before Portia Featherington swooned at the thought of capturing a Bridgerton for one of her daughters.

Before Benedict and his stupid, blue, twinkling eyes made Penelope do something regrettable - like fall in love with the bounder. Perish the thought.

Read the rest on AO3

#tanya writes #polin #penelope x colin #benedict x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #this is mostly colin POV #benedict is a little shit but he hot af ok #I might need to follow this up with their first kiss now sigh

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

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Oooo I really love the idea of touch being so vital for blind Kate. That feels like it invites in a different sort of intimacy that Kate is typically so weary of.

Also I cannot stop thinking about this Bridgerton ASMR and that being Kate’s experience of Anthony’s voice holy hell 🥵🥵🥵🥵

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRPMWyDM/

Oooof but Kate asking Anthony to stay very still so she can see him. And she can hear every catch in his breath as her fingers run over his eyebrows and his lips as she visualizes his face, chuckling a little at his ears with a muttered Cute.

Anthony standing very close so Kate can feel his body against hers always, with his arm around her waist but making sure he doesn’t get in the way of her cane, letting her guide them both so she knows he loves and trusts her, this his purely so she can feel him, so he doesn’t surprise her. His voice soft and gentle in her ear always.

And Anthony truly learns to love himself as much as he loves Kate. Because she doesn’t care about any of the things he used as a front. She fell in love with his personality and his laugh. she fell in love with him. Not the person he pretended to be, and how could he not love the person that Kate deemed worthy?

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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