#looking longingly at colin

[maefansblog]

I could have sworn when Nicola and Luke did this Balcony speech on tour in Toronto, the show was going to parallel the Balcony speech from the books.

I'm going to do a rewrite that mixes book and show canon. Both have their merits and I have love for both of the scenes. This is just for fun and entertainment. 💕

This is after Show Penelope reveals she is Lady Whistledown. The post below is the exact speech that Penelope gives in the show and the Queen exits.

(Awkward silence and gossip starts.)

Colin: I would like to propose a toast to the most remarkable woman in the world. I am a newlywed, and therefore you are all required to indulge me in my lovesick ways.

(Friendly laughter rippled through the crowd.)

I wasn't surprised that I had fallen in love with her, but rather that it had taken so long. I've known her for so many years, you see, and I've discovered the beautiful, brilliant, witty woman she'd become. As my brilliant wife once said, when one finds themselves in an incredible position, they should declare it, assuredly, fervently, loudly.

Therefore, with all of you here as my witnesses, I would like to say - Penelope - I love you. I adore you. I worship the ground you walk upon.

(He turned back out to the crowd, lifted his glass, and said)

Colin: To my wife!

The crowd: To your wife!

(Colin drank his glass of lemonade, and Penelope took her drink.)

Colin: Put down your glass, dear.

Penelope: But -

Colin: You interrupt far too much..

(He scolded, and then he swept her into a passionate kiss, right there in the middle of the ballroom in front of the entire ton.)

Penelope: Colin!

(He grinned wolfishly as their audience roared its approval.)

Philippa: Now Varley! The Bugs!

(The Ton starts clapping, Philippa and Prudence have a moment, and people start dancing.)

(The Lord Squad is flabbergasted and tries to talk to Colin, when Lord Remington interrupts and pulls him to the side to chat. It is assumed the two are talking about Lady Whistledown.)

(Lady Danbury approaches Penelope.)

Lady Danbury: You “cannot tolerate a lie”?

Penelope: Lady Danbury.

Lady Danbury: Your last column. Her Majesty was close when she assumed Whistledown was a Bridgerton protecting their own. But I know the family well enough to know it was not one of them. There is only one person who loves the Bridgertons more than I.

Penelope: You knew it was me.

Lady Danbury: Hm… I suspected. You are not the only lady of the ton who can keep a secret.

Lady Danbury: You stepped into the light, and you were worthy of the attention you command. I look forward to your next edition.

(Lady Danbury laughs and leaves. Penelope stands in awe and then turns around. She meets Colin's eyes from across the room. Colin excuses himself from Lord Remington to talk to Penelope.)

Colin:

(Takes Penelope to the side)

Pen, ever since I found out you are Whistledown, I have done everything I can to try to separate you from her. But the other day, I went back and read all of the letters you have sent me. Your letters have always been the ones I am most eager to read.

And I realized… you are her. You have always had one voice. There is no separating you from Whistledown. And after seeing you speak today, I… Well, I would not want to. Because forgive me, but that was bloody brilliant.

I think, in truth, I…I have been envious of you. Of your success. Of your bravery. And now I simply cannot believe that a woman with such bravery loves me.

How lucky I am to stand by your side and soak up even a little bit of your light. If my only purpose in life is to love a woman as great as you… then I will be a very fulfilled man, indeed.

Penelope: I love you. You are a very good man, Mr. Bridgerton.

Colin: I love you. Now, Will you please do me the honor. Of joining me on the dance floor, Lady Whistledown?

Penelope: l prefer Mrs. Bridgerton.

Colin and Penelope sneak off early, and no one sees them for days.

(Sideplots are in the tags where they belong. A choose your own adventure if you like.)

[dollypopup]

I'm sorry, I will never truly get over how Colin looks so longingly and yearningly at Pen in the distance when she's talking to Debling at the Balloon Faire that he has to eat the same cake she did to taste her in his mouth

and is so pressed about the fact that she's talking to some other dude instead of him that he's doing the regency equivalent of 'I don't fucking like that guy, come roast him with me' to his buddies

but the WHOLE time this is the conversation Penelope is having with that man

and then almost gets killed by a BALLOON traveling at 0.25 kilometers an hour because she becomes afflicted by The Horny(tm) when she sees Colin Bridgerton's arms as he runs to save her

these two are so unserious and double down bad for each other, I love them with all my heart

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Times Colin looked at Penelope longingly in the 2 1/2 minutes of the trailer.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

on today's rewatch, this is where i'm stuck on

this little Polin soulmate gaze

looking at each other before going in for another kiss. the way both of their eyes dip longingly at each other. Pen and Colin's first kiss will forever give me goosebumps.

[bitchcakegreen]

The most unrealistic thing about the next part of season 3, is the Ton being shocked about Colin and Pen or assuming she trapped him. Because he has literally been following her around like a lost puppy for four episodes. He corners her alone any chance he can get. He’s always staring longingly at her at balls, even surrounded by a gaggle of silly giggling debutantes.

He saved her from a wayward balloon and then stood on that hillside and look ready to rip her clothes off right then and there.

Like seriously! How you all not know.

[rose-edith]

Being in love with Anthony Bridgerton and being set-up with him would include:

•I mean, who of the ladies of the ton aren’t in love with Anthony Bridgerton? He is THE catch of the social season.

•you can’t help but stare longingly at him every time he enters or leaves a room. Which naturally, both Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton notice, and they start plotting with glee.

•as a daughter of the L/N’s you’ve been friends with the Bridgerton family for years! Every summer you had visited each other at each others country estates. You’d played in the mud with Daphne, read to Eloise, learnt how to tickle for trout with Colin and Benedict, and Anthony…he’d been your first ever dance partner when you had been presented and attending Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. What a moment that had been! The feeling of his fingers against your arm had been burnt into your brain, and you’d not stopped glowing and grinning for the whole night!

•so when you and your Mama received a card to visit the Bridgerton’s for dinner one evening, it was hardly out of the norm, it was all very exciting and pleasant.

•you arrived and saw the dining room had been set with incredible splendour; flowers, candles, crystal candelabra- suddenly you’d felt very glad that your Mama had trussed you up like a chicken in the finest silks and jewels, hair curled just the way you love.

•as the host, you would’ve expected Anthony to be there to greet you; but he was flabbergasted when you arrived- Lady Bridgerton on the other hand, swept your mother away, leaving Anthony to escort you. Oh how you loved her in that moment!

•dinner was perfect. Sat on Anthony’s left side, you could laugh and chat and things were the same as they always had been. He was your best friend, but more than that, he was the man you loved.

•from the other end of the table, your Mama, Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury raised their glasses to each other.

•you didn’t want the evening to end- you’d delighted to room with a pianoforte duet with Hyacinth, laughed with Eloise and listened to Colin. But most importantly, you’d been locked in a corner with Anthony, discussing books, farming developments and how the lambing season had been. Anthony found himself utterly bewildered. You’d always been so easy to talk to, but tonight you were glowing, you fit in…his mind turned to marriage.

•the next day the biggest bouquet of flowers had arrived for you and your mother, delivered by hand by none other than Anthony Bridgerton. Your heart fluttered!

•he joined you promenading, riding in your carriage with you and your Mama. You had to fan yourself the whole way, his eyes…his hands…his lips…the scent of Anthony filled the space. And you wanted more, you wanted…you don’t even know what you wanted! The promenade was wonderful, hanging onto Anthony’s arm and every word, laughing with him.

•you didn’t even notice when Anthony had managed to sneak you away from your Mama. But here you were, under a beautiful willow tree, hidden by the flowing branches.

•you couldn’t help yourself, you launched yourself at him. Wrapping your arms round his neck, and kissing him. Oh he was warm! Warm and hot and delicious! He laughed into your mouth and pressed your body back against the tree, his hands exploring your body above your clothes.

• ‘not enough!’ You moaned into his mouth, dragging his hand to between your thighs, and then grinding yourself against him. ‘I need you; I want you.’ Anthony moaned and started to touch you, hands desperately seeking your flesh beneath your dress.

•a cough broke through the dreamy state you both found yourself in. Lady Danbury stood there, grinning, and looking thoroughly impressed. ‘I take it you’ll marry the girl now Bridgerton?’ She quirked her brow with impossible preciseness.

• ‘If you’ll forgive us Lady Danbury. My fiancé and I need to borrow a carriage and get to Gretna Green.’ Lady Danbury laughed and offered her carriage. Anthony straightened your dress, before grabbing your hand and running with you to the waiting carriage.

•the news broke the very next day in Lady Whistledown, that there was a new Vicountess Bridgerton, and that she had won the Vicounts heart a long time ago. But neither you or Anthony knew about the article, given that you were too busy wrapped in each other’s arms as man and wife, brand new gold rings flashing on your fingers.

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the drawing room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her.

She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure our mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

[nic-coughlan]

luke newton: 'penelope has been sort of longingly looking at colin from afar and it was really nice to swap that round and the dynamics to change, so as much as i feel connected to colin and want to support him in all of his choices, a part of me is like "yeah this serves you right, you haven't seen what's right in front of you all this time, you should have your moment of longingly watching someone you're now totally obsessed with and all consumed by". so, i was really excited by the challenge of flipping that dynamic completely and seeing this new version of penelope but also feeling deeply connected to the person she truly is, yeah i love that'

[angee1011]

WAIT A MINUTE WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE IM LOSING MY MIND

OKAY PARALLEL

Season three opens with Colin reuniting with his family while Pen looks longingly across the square at them.

And the season ends with Pen standing WITH them as one of them while saying goodbye to Frannie, Eloise, John and Michaela.

SOMEONE WHO HAS SKILLS GIF IT PLEASE I BEG OF YOU OMG

[colinfeatherington]

penelope's yellow butterfly dress from her first ball in s1 (where we first see her look longingly at colin!) is visible in her wardrobe in 3.01. according to an interview, nicola asked for it to be put in there so fans could notice it!

[mickittotheman]

hii 🤗 for the kiss trope: Gallavich and 11 or 49

Hi!!! 🤗🤗🤗

49. ...out of necessity

Ian sighs, drumming his fingers against sun bleached red plastic. Debbie pops out of the water for the millionth time, shoving her soaked hair out of her face and turning to beam at Ian excitedly. He gives her a stained smile and a halfhearted thumbs up.

Okay, yeah, he could probably be more enthusiastic. That had been a pretty impressive flip. 

But he’s tired, and he’s bored, and he feels like he’s cooking in the sun, the shade of the ripped umbrella above him not nearly enough. By the end of the summer, he’ll be nothing but one big freckle. 

It's a good gig. They need the money. He’s been trying to avoid the Kash and Grab, trying to avoid Kash. The pay is decent, and his siblings get free admission. He’d been excited about the prospect of maybe helping someone, maybe saving someone, maybe being the hero for once.

So far, he’s only had to save the occasional bee, and, on one notable occasion, a rat.

He sighs again. Gazes at the water longingly. He wishes he could jump in. He wishes something exciting would happen.

He scans the surface again, scans the perimeter, looking for trouble. It’s busy today. Crowded. Probably because it’s hot as fuck.

There’s a few people from school he recognizes, but there's one group in particular he’s been eyeing, one person in particular.

Mickey Milkovich.

Ian’s never actually talked to him before. But he’s seen him. 

He leaning his back against the fence, smoke wafting up from his lips to the “No Smoking” sign posted just above his head. He’s hot as fuck– in every sense of the word. He’s wearing all black. Black tee with the sleeves cut off, black ripped jeans, black heavy boots. He’s in the shade, but Ian can see the sweat glistening on his skin from all the way over here, and it’s kinda making his mouth water.

He swallows. Looks away. Inevitably looks back.

Mickey’s sister is sunbathing face down on a lounge chair, a skimpy black two piece on her steadily reddening skin, a handful of boys drooling over her, only kept at bay by Mickey’s glare. One of the other Milkovich brothers is there– Iggy? Colin? Ian can never tell them apart– but he’s preoccupied, having ditched guard dog duty in favor of rubbing sunscreen onto some college girl’s back.

He forces himself to focus on the water again. If a kid dies because he was too busy thinking with his dick he’d never live it down.

He’s trying so hard not to look. He blames that on why he misses the initial commotion. When he finally glances over at the sound of raised voices Mandy is standing up, a red mark the shape of a handprint on her ass and a murderous expression on her face. Mickey is already decking the one Ian assumes is the culprit.

Shit.

Ian fumbles for the little whistle around his neck.

Mickey whips around at the shrill noise with a glare, and the other guy seizes the opportunity to shove Mickey into the pool and run.

There’s gasping. Some yelling. A few people scatter, not wanting to be around for when Mickey clambers out and goes fucking ballistic.

But Mickey doesn’t clamber out. He sinks to the bottom in a mess of flailing limbs. 

Shit. 

Ian is in the water in a heartbeat. The shock of cold against his flushed skin is jarring, but he barely pays it any mind. Mandy had jumped in too, and together they manage to haul Mickey up and out and onto the searing hot pavement.

“Shit, Mickey, come on you stupid shithead,” Mandy mutters, smacking at his face.

“I need you to move,” Ian says, and he’s distantly shocked by how calm he sounds.

She doesn’t put up a fight like he was expecting, just scrambles back to give Ian room.

He’s only ever had to do this on crusty foam dummies, but miraculously, muscle memory takes over. He starts compressions. Quick, quicker than you think they should be but not too quick, deep but not too deep. He reaches thirty. Moves his hands up, tips Mickey’s head back, ducks down.

He barely has his lips sealed over Mickey’s when Mickey gasps.

It’s not as romantic as it is in the movies. 

The first thing Mickey does is turn his head and cough up a mixture of chlorinated water and bile. The second thing he does is start biting out curses and kicking.

“Shit,” Ian hisses, scrambling out of range of Mickey’s heavy boots.

“Mickey, Mick, stop,” Mandy scolds, slapping at Mickey again. 

Mickey’s gaze darts around, taking in the situation, the way Mandy is pale and wide eyed, the fact that his clothes are soaked through, the people standing around gawking. 

His skin goes pink. He scowls mutinously. “What the fuck are you people looking at?”

People look away so fast, Ian wouldn’t be surprised if they had whiplash.

Ian laughs, nearly giddy with adrenaline and relief. “Come on. I can get you a towel.” 

And some privacy, goes unsaid, but Mickey picks up on it anyways. He drags himself up, unsuccessfully trying to bat away Mandy’s and Ian's arms as they hook under his shoulders. 

They find the second lifeguard in the locker room with a fresh hickey on his neck and a giggling blonde clinging to him. He goes wide eyed when he sees them, shoves the girl away unceremoniously. “Holy fuck. What happened?”

Ian rolls his eyes. “I’ve got it covered. Will you please just go do your fucking job while I handle this?”

“Don’t need your fucking help,” Mickey grouses. Ian and Mandy ignore him and wrangle him into sitting on one of the benches. “Where the fuck is Iggy?”

“He went to chase after that guy. I’m gonna go grab our bag before someone steals it.” Mandy pats Mickey on the shoulder once. Turns to the door. Pauses with just one foot out to look back.

She bites her lip. Drags her gaze up and down Ian’s form, lingering on his lips, on his still heaving chest, on where his wet swim trunks are clinging to him. “Thank you. For saving my brother. I owe you one.”

“Oh. Oh.” Ian feels his ears go red. He occupies himself with fumbling around in his locker for his towel. “Uh, thank you, but it was nothing, I–”

The door slams shut, Mandy already gone.

“Shit.” Ian sighs. Closes his eyes for a moment. Rubs at his forehead.

Mickey eyes him skeptically and snatches the towel Ian holds out to him. “You know by ‘owe you one’, she means a blowie, right?”

Ian burns even redder. Doesn’t quite manage to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah.”

“What? You think you're too good for her?” Mickey sneers, bristling like a porcupine.

“No, no! She’s just. Uh. Not my type.”

Mickey glowers at him. Scowls. “What are you, a fucking fag or something?”

Fuck. Mickey wouldn't kill the guy who just saved his life, right? 

Right?

Mickey scowls even harder when Ian flounders. Brings his tattooed fingers up to rub at his mouth. “I oughtta cut your fucking tongue out for putting your goddamn lips on me like that.”

“Trust me, I didn’t exactly enjoy it,” Ian snarks, and he swears, he swears, he sees something like disappointment flash through Mickey’s eyes. Something like hurt. 

His breath stutters. He swallows hard.

“I mean. I didn't exactly get the chance to.”

Mickey freezes.

Ian holds his breath.

Mickey stands abruptly. Tosses the towel towards Ian's chest. Stomps towards the door. 

Oh.

Ian deflates a bit.

Well. Could be worse. Mickey could have straight up murdered him.

Mickey pauses just inside the doorway, one foot out. Looks back. Shoves his tongue out to lick at the corner of his mouth. Looks Ian up and down with a cocked brow. “I owe you one.”

Ian’s eyes widen, but Mickey’s already gone.

send me a number~

[sea-owl]

I have an idea. I'm borrowing ideas from these posts started by @thekatebridgerton from here and here

It was the Bridgertons favorite part of the year. As the eight royal siblings of Hell and the hosts to the deadly sins, it was their duty to meet with their counter parts once a year for about a week, maybe two if things are slow, to make sure the balance between Heaven and Hell remained. The work itself they couldn't care less about; their coworkers however held all the appeal for them.

How they love riling the heavenly virtues up. Now if only they could get their names.

"The meeting started five minutes ago," Diligence reminded the Hell Royalty as they all sat down. Her dark eyes looked ready to twitch. Patience and Kindness each gave her a gentle squeeze on the arm.

"There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late," Anthony, the sin of Vanity said as he sat across from Diligence.

He eyed Diligence's slightly unkempt appearance, probably rushed here from another project of her's. "You could think about doing the same. I don't mind giving you time to freshen up-"

"We have work to do," Diligence cut him off.

Benedict, the sin of Sloth, slumped down into his seat. Kindness pushed a cup of coffee towards him. He moaned into the drink. "Kindness you're too good to me. Keep treating me like this and I just might have your children."

"Sloth that's impossible," Kindness reminded him.

Colin, the sin of Wrath, grinned as he sat across from Patience. That grin quickly fell into a pout when she continued to work on whatever was on that boring piece of paper.

Colin reached for the paper. Patience moved it out of the way. Colin reached for it again, and again Patience moved it. The game continued until Patience finished writing whatever sentence she was working on and looked up at Colin. "Yes Wrath?"

Colin grabbed her dominate hand, Patience moved the pen to the other hand and began writing with that one.

Daphne, the sin of Greed, wrote out her wants for the upcoming year. Fast and efficient, it will give her more time with her virtue anyway which is what she really wants. She hands the plan over to Humility to look over.

"A little too much Greed," Humility said. "Remember as the elders said we have to strike a balance. How about I take some of these instead?"

Daphne pouted. "I rather have them and you."

Eloise, the sin of Pride, sat across from Temperance. She doesn't understand why she has to be here. Her plan worked wonderful last year.

Temperance pulled out some notes on last year's plan. "Perhaps we can make some of these changes, hold back a little this year. Pride was a little high last year among the humans."

Eloise's jaw dropped.

Francesca, the sin of Lust, smiled at Chasity, leaning in closer. "Hello Chasity."

"Lust," Chasity greeted politely. His eyes never straying from her own. "Are you ready to get to work?"

Francesca sighed. She'll get him to look lower one day.

Gregory the sin of Envy stared longingly at the biscuit Chairity had in her hands. It was his favorite one too!

Chairity didn't even look up when she split the biscuit in half and gave one half to Envy.

"Chairity marry me!"

"No Envy," Chairity replied.

Hyacinth the sin of Gluttony, looked over Modesty's clothes. No, they won't do. Her virtue wore too little gold and needs richer colors, they would have to fix that. "Hey Modesty, how about-"

"Gluttony I am happy with my clothing," Modesty said. He almost smiled.

Hyacinth huffed. One day she's getting him out of that clothing.

The first day of the meeting went on, and when it was time to leave the Bridgertons opened their mouths only to have eight rays of holy light cover them.

"No true names," all the virtues said.

[dollypopup]

"But how did Colin not know Penelope had a crush on him?"

Babes, how did Penelope not know Colin had a crush on her?

He literally bought and ate the same cake she did as he stared longingly at her? He sprinted for that balloon rope, fully ready to haul 800 pounds on his lonesome so she wouldn't be hurt? He bribed her maid so they could have alone time and then scurried off after her every moment of every event they're in together? He is always in her garden? He cuts into her dance? He glared daggers through Debling's face? He rushes up to her to say he's been meaning to ask her something and stares so deep into her eyes I swear boy was looking into her soul? He loses track of his sentences because he just starts pining mid-syllable? He looks at her lips all the time? He chugs lemonade after she compliments how his eyes shine when he's kind? He runs off after her carriage, panting, cravatless, asking if she accepted a proposal and to please please please let him in, and she's still like "I can't believe he'd think you have feelings for me!" When my boy has been out here getting a phd in down baderism?

They're both idiots in love, your honor

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You (Penelope x Colin) - Part 3

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to Part 1 and my other stories)

Penelope had always dreamt that her first kiss with Colin would be sweet and romantic, exhibiting the care and tenderness that existed between them. Passion never entered her mind, and when she daydreamed about being married to him, not much thought was spent on the act of making love. Instead she imagined reading to him, walking with him, enjoying food and laughter, and living a life of shared contentment – very different from the marriage between her own mother and father. After overhearing Colin the night of her mama’s ball, she desperately wanted those fantasies to stop. Yet they lingered and she didn’t understand why. Maybe it’s because he was so deeply entrenched in her soul that she couldn’t imagine a future without him, maybe those dreams just brought her comfort when too many things had changed otherwise, but either way they didn’t stop. And so she started writing as a way to distract herself from her thoughts, not scandal sheets but rather a novel about unrequited love. It was halfway complete before her mama made the decision to send her to the country to stay with one of their cousins. Portia Featherington hoped the change in air would mean Penelope would stop moping and hopefully lose some weight. Penelope had her own reasons for agreeing. She wanted distance from Eloise and reminders of Colin, and hoped discovering a new place would give her respite from the pain. The last few months at Ayleshire had provided that and so much more; it was there she had met Arthur Debling and had her eyes opened to a world she never knew existed before. And it was because of him that she was now aware of desire and passion, and that it could exist without love.

Because Colin didn’t love her, but the moment his lips touched hers they were both wrecked. All thoughts ceased to exist, all she could do was feel and experience sensations she had never imagined. He devoured her with his mouth, his tongue stroking hers with raw urgency. And she kissed him back with equal fervor, standing on her toes, clinging to him desperately.

Whilst her gloved hands fisted his hair, aching to run her bare fingers through his soft, beautiful curls, his roved everywhere on her body. One second he was cupping her breasts, the next his hands were grasping her bottom, roaming over the length of her frantically. He was a man caught up in madness, fully determined to possess her.

Everything was moving fast, too fast, her body aroused, mind spinning. Desperately needing some air to compose herself, she dragged her mouth away from his. But he didn’t stop, no, his mouth drifted to her ear, his ragged breaths echoing in her mind as his tongue traced the curve of the shell, making her tremble in his arms. And then his tongue stroked the oh-so-sensitive spot just below which instantly made her knees buckle. But he held her tight, his grip fierce and strong as he maneuvered her back against the wall of the maze, refusing to give her any respite from the ecstasy he unleashed upon her.  

No one had ever admired her breasts before. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it would be something anyone would want to do, but seeing the glazed look on Colin’s face as he stared at them longingly, touching her with reverence, before angling down to pepper hot, wet kisses on her bosom made her realize how much she still didn’t know about physical arousal. Like how good it felt to have his face sink into her breasts, the sensation of his tongue and teeth on her skin, electrifying every nerve in her body. She moaned, feeling that deep yearning between her legs. “Colin, more…”

Frantically he tried to scoop her breasts out of the bodice but the corset underneath proved too tight.  “This damn thing,” he bit out with frustration before yanking down the sleeves of her dress. The force with which he pulled not only ripped the lace from the sleeve but also tore the side of her bodice.

It was at that moment Penelope rushed back to reality, feeling exposed in front of him. Quickly she covered herself with her arms.

The shift in the air was palpable, fraught with tension.

Hesitant, her breath came out in shallow spurts as she finally dared to glance up at him. Colin was no longer looking at her like a man possessed. Instead there was panic in his eyes, his face taking on a horrified expression.

“Pen…” His eyes swept over her chest. “I’m so sorry. I…” He jumped back, realizing he was entirely too close. Like he could no longer bear to touch her. “I don’t know what came over me.” Guilt flooded his expression. He couldn’t even seem to hold her gaze and averted his eyes. “I took liberties I shouldn’t have.”

Her stomach was coiled into knots, mind still reeling from what occurred. “It’s fine. It’s over. We both acted foolishly.”

“You deserve a husband who values you.” He cast her furtive glances, running his fingers through his hair. “Someone who cares for you and cherishes you. Someone who can truly love you.”

Because he couldn’t.

There was no denying that his words wounded her, but not being good enough for him also didn’t bring with it the searing pain and shame it once did. Now there was no agonizing heartbreak, just a dull ache in her soul which she could manage with little effort.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes still lingered along her ripped bodice. “I acted like a savage.”

“It’s done with,” she replied, irritated. “I would just like to go home and put this night behind me.”

“Your first kiss is supposed to be special, a magical moment, and I ruined that for you.”

“You didn’t,” she interjected. “Tonight was not my first kiss. So you don’t need to fret.”

The change in him was abrupt. One second he was burdened with remorse, next he was staring back at her with fire in his eyes, a simmering rage that appeared to dissipate all of his trepidation from before. “Who did you kiss, Penelope?”

Penelope, not Pen. He rarely ever used her given name, not unless he was upset. And spotting the angry glint in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw, it was clear that he was – which made her own temper rise. “How is that your concern?”

He took a step towards her, his eyebrow cocked. “Answer me.”

“I will not!” She glared up at him defiantly. “You are in no position to demand anything from me, Colin.”

The madness that took over him when he was kissing her seemed to return with a vengeance as he closed the distance between them. His demeanor was agitated, his troubled eyes piercing right through to her core. “Was it him? Your mysterious suitor?”

“Why does it matter to you? You don’t even believe he exists!”  

“He’s taken advantage of you, hasn’t he? What has he done?”

She should have walked away, perhaps even tried to calm his distressed self for the sake of their friendship - but his entitlement and refusal to believe someone would actually want her still had her infuriated at him. Outraged, she started provoking him instead. “Nothing I did not desire for him to do.”

His eyes darkened to an almost pitch-black under the moonlight. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she huffed back. “And that is all I wish to say to you. Good night, Sir!”

When she attempted to walk past him, he blocked her path. “Who is he?” Danger laced his voice. “I demand you tell me now, Pen.”

“And I demand you go to hell!” she spat out.

“Did you kiss him the way you kissed me?” His arm snaked around her waist, crushing her against his chest. “Did you let him touch you?”

What was happening between them? She didn’t understand it. He’d never behaved like this before, a complete contrast to the boy she fell in love with. Yet his predatory wildness didn’t scare her, instead sending thrills down her spine.

“Did he kiss your breasts, Penelope? Did you undress for him and let him see you naked?”

“And what if I did?” she retaliated. “Why do you care?”

“You do not belong to him!”

“But I will. Soon.. And then I will be loved and cherished and happy and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“You think I would just let you walk out of my life, Pen?” He shook his head ‘no’, his eyes gleaming with emotion. “I will never let you go.”

It was all too much, she could no longer bear it. His close proximity, his intoxicating words – it all wreaked havoc with her thoughts. Worst of all, he was giving her false hope and that was something she couldn’t afford to have. “Release me, Colin!”

“I will not.”

“Colin! Unhand her now!”

It was the sound of Anthony’s voice that finally made Colin loosen his grip on her waist. Immediately she distanced herself from him, a heated blush creeping across her cheeks at being caught by the Viscount. Anthony wasn’t alone, next to him was his wife, Kate, who was staring at Penelope with concern.

To be continued...

[asmilinghopelessromantic]

a new drinking (or non-drinking for those who don't drink) game just dropped:

take a shot every time colin looks longingly or lovingly looks at pen

[abitcaughtinthemiddle]

The Uncertainty of Love and its Torment

As my Bridgerton rewatch continues, I’ve made it to season 2, episode 6: the failed wedding episode.

Love is in the air as Anthony and Edwina face the day of their nuptials. Yet, as we know, it is not the bride and groom that share this love- it is Anthony and Kate that long for each other. It is Eloise and Theo, unsure of their mutual attraction. And, for those of us with a keen eye, it is Penelope and Colin’s love blossoming in the palace courtyard.

While Anthony and Kate fight their love for each other- the feelings between Eloise and Theo & Penelope and Colin remain uncertain in their reciprocation.

Eloise says something important about her relationship with Theo to Penelope- that she is uncertain of his feelings and the “thought exercise” of questioning said feelings is a “thrilling kind of torment”.

(And, during this scene, we can see Pen look longingly at Colin)

While Anthony and Kate’s torment is that they do love each other, it is the torment of the unknown that plague Eloise and Penelope’s infatuations.

Eloise, because she is not used to feeling attraction and is unsure what to call it. Penelope, because she has longed so long for Colin, and his friendship with her has left her confused about his affections.

While Eloise’s attraction was new and exciting, Penelope had been living in her state of torment for years. Both a kind of uncertainty that brought each their own torment. This starts laying an excellent foundation for season 3.

And what tortuous moment can we look to in season 3?

Colin’s first confession of feelings in the carriage.

As Colin himself says, his feelings for Penelope are a “[torture] that [he] cannot, will not, [does] not want to, give up”.

Here, Colin, in a way, reiterates the sentiment Eloise shared last season. However, unlike Eloise, he, himself, is certain of his own feelings. He’s had the experience with Marina to show him the difference between fleeting attraction and love. He knows what it was like to lose Marina and to have his feelings unreciprocated- which is wholly different than his love for Penelope.

But since their kiss and as of this moment in the carriage, Colin truly does not know Penelope’s feelings towards him. The uncertainty of it haunts him as we can see with Luke’s facial acting.

Eloise’s “torment” comment, along with the struggle of Anthony and Kate from season 2 add to the context surrounding Colin and Pen’s love declarations and makes this past season that much more special.

From the first carriage scene confession from Colin, to Penelope’s admission in the church scene, these two have been through their own torments to get to each other- ones that span all the way from season 1 to season 3.