jell-o-shot - Tumblr blog

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"just write the story you want to read!" they said. well, guess what, now i have 14 unfinished drafts because apparently, i want to read 14 different stories at once.

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ARTIST: pinna.blu_.

THIS IS AMAZING 🤩

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~ WIP Wednesday ~

I'm completely obsessed with my current WIP, a Modern Bridgerton AU! I'm roughly planning to have a story for each Bridgerton sibling, with some of them intertwining. I'm currently writing a rough outline of each story, vaguely following the show (and sometimes incorporating book stuff that might fit) but making it, obviously, modern. So Saphne are going to be a Fake Dating story (I'm thinking actors in a PR relationship) Kanthony are Enimies to Lovers (maybe rival Lawyers? I'm not too sure yet) and Polin are obviously Friends to Lovers! And it is part of the Polin Story (as yet untitled) that I'll be sharing today, because I started re-writing the Carriage Scene and couldn't stop (though I have yet to write the actual smut) and I am incredibly proud of what I have so far

Modern Bridgerton AU - Untitled Polin Story - "Carriage" scene

“Pen, wait!” Colin called as Penelope ran up the staircase, her curls flying behind her and the skirt of her dress fluttering around her legs.

“Not now, Colin,” She responded, slowing slightly as she got to the landing, stopping and taking a heaving breath that turned into a sob she quickly swallowed back.

“Penelope,” Colin whispered, slowly walking up the stairs towards her.

“I don't want to talk, Colin,” She said, her back still to him, and he watched as she straightened, taking a deep stuttering breath and slowly letting it loose. Her sniffles filled the hall, mingling with the distant thump of bass coming from one of her neighbours, but otherwise it was silent as Pen composed herself before turning to him.

She was beautiful, as she always had been, as he'd long taken for granted. Even with reddened eyes and messy mascara, fallen curls and flushed skin, she looked like a work of art. He was sure Benedict would be able to name exactly which, or, rather, he wouldn't, because Penelope was one of a kind.

“Please,” he said imploringly, nodding to the door of her flat, “Let me in?”

She regarded him, looking down from the landing above The overhead light made a halo around her head, [blah blah blah poetry about her standing tall in front of him, him having to look up at her beauty blah blah blah]

She nodded - the mask of composure falling away, letting him see the exhaustion and sad acceptance she was feeling - and turned to open the door. He took the last few steps two at a time, and followed her into the flat. He closed the door behind himself, toeing off his dress shoes and watching as she sighed, her hands running through her hair and snagging on bobby pins. She let out a sound of frustration before grabbing a claw clip from the table by the door and expertly twisting her hair up and away from her face. She leant down to undo the clasp on her shoes, and fumbled, letting out another sound of frustration that caught on a sob.

“Let me,” Colin said, voice soft in the quiet, and gestured to the bench in the hallway. She sat down heavily, and he crouched in front of her, unbuckling the clasp at one ankle, and then another.

“Why did you follow me home?” Penelope asked, as he gently took the first heel from her foot.

“You… you looked distressed, as you left the luncheon,” He answered.

“So you decided to follow me?”

Colin placed the second heel next to the first, neatly, before sitting back on his ankles. He chewed on his lip, before looking up at Penelope.

“What happened, between you and Deb?” He asked.

A silence stretched.

“Its odd,” Penelope said, swallowing around emotion, “When I asked for your help finding a boyfriend, I didn't think it would end with them breaking up with me, because of you.”

Colin blinked.

“Because he seems to think you have feelings for me,” She let out a disbelieving laugh, closing her eyes and bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

Colin's breath caught in his throat, and when he opened his mouth to respond - to say something, anything - the words he'd practiced again and again got caught along with it.

“Which is so ridiculous all I can do is laugh,” Penelope voice caught on the last word, the disbelieving laughter of before turning wet, “Now will you please just leave me to wallow alone?”

“I can't,” Colin breathed, his lungs aching with the effort of finally talking.

“Please!” Penelope practically begged, and Colin's nerves snapped.

“I can't,” He insisted, “Because…”

All of the speeches he'd written - in journals, on his notes app, in his mind - burst into his mind [change to something else] and he stumbled through the plethora of words. He looked down at the small flowers that adorned Penelope's dress, composing himself and his words, before looking back up. He met her eyes, bright with both unshed tears and…

Hope.

His resolve strengthened, and the words that tumbled over each other in his mind became clear.

“What if I did have feelings for you?” He said, the words a question but the answer clear. Or so he hoped.

“What?” The disbelief in Penelope's voice pierced his heart, denting and almost breaking it.

He sorted though the words, settling on the best to convey his feelings, before kneeling up, leaning closer to Penelope and taking her hands in his.

“I have spent so long,” He began, eyes locked on hers, “Trying to feel less, trying to be more like my brothers, and for a moment I thought I had succeeded,” He looked down, the intensity of Penelope's gaze making his heart thump in his chest, drowning out the music that floated through the walls from Penelope's neighbour.

“But the last few months,” He continued, watching his hands curl with Penelope's against the floral backdrop of her skirt, “Have been filled with feeling. Feelings like the total inability to stop thinking about…”

He looked up at her again, blue eyes meeting blue.

“You.”

The confession came out in a breathy whisper, and Colin watched Penelope’s eyes alight with hope once again, before shuttering. A wall separating her heart from his words, as if afraid they would end up breaking it. He never wanted to break her heart, quite the opposite in fact. He wanted to hold it gently next to his, to nurture it and show her that she did not have to settle for someone like Debling - someone who planned to leave her behind, someone who planned to gallivant around the world without her on his arm.

“About that kiss,” He continued, shaking his head with a soft laugh, “A kiss that I have been dreaming about every night since it happened. For months I have felt disappointment upon waking, I’ve started to prefer sleep, because in my dreams I am with you. In my dreams we are together,” His words had started to quicken, and he sensed a ramble incoming.

He wanted to tell her about every single dream he could remember - Dreams of the two of them on a beach in Greece, the sun shining off of her hair and painting freckles across her nose and over her shoulders. Dreams of her dressed in elaborate dresses as they danced at elaborate balls straight out of period dramas and fairy tales. Dreams of the two of them lounging on his sofa, his apartment now adorned with artwork he knew hung in her bedroom, a throw he had watched her crochet wrapped around their shoulders, as they watched Daphne and Simon act on screen. Dreams of her laid out against his sheets…

He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes against the visions of her, before opening them again and gazing at the real thing.

“They’re damn near torturous,” He told her, sincerity lacing his words, “They way they have given me so much hope, before the disappointment of reality sets in. But it is a feeling that I cannot, will not, do not want to give up.”

“Please,” Penelope shook her head, closing her eyes, “Don't say things you don't mean.”

He squeezed her hands, eyes mapping her face as he waited for hers to re-open. The thumping bass from next door got louder, the pace of it matching the quickness of his heartbeat.

Finally her eyes opened again, and met his.

“But I do mean it,” He told her, simply but with feeling. He smiled up at her, softening his gaze, “Its everything I've been wanting to say to you for… months.”

“But Colin,” She said, eyes darting over his face, “We’re friends.”

“Yeah but we…” he trailed off, brow furrowing as he took in her serious expression. He open and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get his words back into some semblance of order. But they were scattered to the wind once again.

“Right, of course, I'm sorry,” He looked away from Penelope, beginning to untangle his hand from hers, “I don't know what I was thinking! Pretend I didn't sa-”

“-But I’d very much like to be more than friends,” She interrupted him.

Colin's head snapped up, his sharp intake of breath catching in his throat. Penelope's eyes sparkled with mirth, her lips quirked in a smirk that turned into a soft smile as the muffled music swelled to a peak.

“So much more,” she continued, and Colin surged forward as the bass dropped.

He captured Penelope's lips with his.

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Penelope Featherington in 3x07 Joining of Hands

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𝖡𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝖳𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗌 (𝖯𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇)

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Catherine x Tammy WINE COUNTRY (2019)

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Catherine x Tammy WINE COUNTRY (2019)

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rewatching wine country and now im going to have to reread that sexy fic @jell-o-shot wrote where catherine and tammy fuck

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Xena Warrior Princess 4x03 A family affair

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emails i can’t send tour 💌 skinny dipping

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PARKS AND RECREATION Season 3 Episode 11 “Jerry’s Painting”

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REBOOT 1.04

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Requested/suggested by @feijoaaas

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“Leslie, I am just so, so sorry. Diaphena, she is this powerful goddess, and I’ve been thinking a lot about powerful women and, subconsciously, I painted you.”

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We do not forget you, so soon as you forget us. PERSUASION (1995) dir. Roger Michell