#Colins Crest

[flamedork]

2022

#art vs artist #art vs artist 2022 #bridgerton #polin #fairy tail #nalu #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #alya cesaire #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #ocs #original characters #aurelia #luan vacaris #mermaid wip #crest #artdork #trash talk

[beansprean]

Happy Mer-May!! Why not an extremely loosely interpreted Little Mermaid au? Starring Guillermo as a harbor seal who dreams of living in the deep, Wallace as an opportunistic mimic octopus, Colin as a parasitic lamprey, Laszlo as a lazy little snaggletooth, Nadja as a vicious sloane’s viperfish, and Nandor as a spiny black dragonfish. Deep sea fishes truly the vampires of the sea.

"Betcha down there

that they don't care

Bet they don't

mind a couple slaughters..."

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Underwater full body shot of mermaid Guillermo swimming past. He has the tail of a light brown harbor seal, webbed fingers, and small floppy ears that are held closed. He has a line of kelp tied around him like a bandolier and is looking around determinedly, brandishing a wooden stake in one hand. 1b. Full body of Guillermo lounging on his side on a flat rock above the water, one arm tucked under his head and the other held to his side like a flipper. He sighs forlornly. 1c. Full body of Guillermo on an algae-covered rock sticking above the ocean's surface, waves cresting around him as he lifts up his torso little-mermaid style and sings out "part of your world".

2. Full body of mermaids Colin, Laszlo, Nadja, and Nandor floating in a line, the ocean behind them very dark. Colin has the slick beige and cream tail of a lamprey, webbing beneath his arms, and gill pores dotted down each side of his torso and neck. He grins and wiggles his webbed fingers at the viewer in a wave. Behind him is a smaller shot of Colin with his mouth open, revealing multiple circular rows of sharp teeth around a sucking maw. Laszlo has the tail of a snaggletooth or stareater, his anterior side patterned in teal and black scales up to his chest, lighter teal scales dotting up his neck and shoulders, and brighter teal fins. He has a pair of gills on either side of his neck, sharp black claws on each webbed finger, and green bioluminescent spots running from wrists to tailfin on either side. He floats with a smug grin, arms crossed and back-to-back with his wife. Nadja has the tail of a Sloane's viperfish, her anterior side patterned in dull garnet and black scales up to her chest, lighter dull garnet scales dotting up her neck and shoulders, and brighter rose fins. Her fins and tail are similar to Laszlo's in style, but larger and longer with a posterior barbel. She has a pair of gills on either side of her neck, sharp red claws on each webbed finger, long fangs poking up from her lower jaw, and double lines of red bioluminescent spots running from wrists to tailfin on either side. She is grinning to show off her fangs, floating back to back with her husband. One of her webbed hands is raised to bare her claws, long black hair swirling in the water around her. Nandor has the tail of a black dragonfish, his anterior side patterned in dark blue and black speckling up to his chest, lighter blue scales dotting up his neck and shoulders, and black spines with translucent blue webbing over his shoulders and down either side of his long winding tail, ending in a small forked fin. He has a pair of gills on either side of his neck, sharp claws on each webbed finger, and gold bioluminescent spots running from wrists to tailfin on either side with double lines on his torso. he is floating nervously, looking around and twiddling his hands together.

3a. Mermaid Wallace, with the tentacles of a mimic octopus below the waist, floats underwater next to mermaid Guillermo. They are wearing a woven vest studded with shells and pearls, a black doppa hat with puka shells, a pearl necklace, a pendant with a claw, and several rings on unwebbed fingers. Their tentacles are relaxed, colored in the usual brick and cream stripes, and they have black claws and small horns above each eye. Wallace grins slyly as they wave their arms mysteriously and dangle a necklace in front of Guillermo’s face. It is a simple braided string with a snail shell on the end, which is glowing bright blue and burping out shiny bubbles. Guillermo, wearing a kelp bandolier with two stakes tied into it at his hip is staring at it with wide, fascinated eyes, one hand reaching up slowly for it. He says, “So…this will let me survive in the Trench?” Wallace replies, “Guaranteed.” 3b. Repeat. Wallace suddenly snatches the necklace back into their hand, cutting off the glow, their other hand planting itself on their hip. Their tentacles darken into black and bright crimson stripes and fan out threateningly in the water as they clarify, “For 72 hours only. And $350 cash.” Guillermo snatches his hands back to hold them protectively against his chest, head sinking into his shoulders in shock as he frowns back up at Wallace.

4a. Mermaid Guillermo and mermaid Laszlo float side by side in the deep, Guillermo wearing his kelp bandolier and Wallace’s magic snail shell necklace, which continues to burp out small glowing blue bubbles. Laszlo bares his fangs upwards and tosses up his hands as if to amplify his voice, shouting, “Fish!” Startled, Guillermo jerks back, one hand half-raising in a readied fist and the other clutching a stake behind his back. 4b. Repeat. With a poof of bubbles, Laszlo transforms into a brightly glowing dark teal snaggletooth fish with bulging eyes, a chin barbel, an unhingeable jaw full of long sharp teeth, and bioluminescent green spots down each side. He looks to be about four inches (or 10cm) long. Guillermo immediately relaxes, unimpressed, and drops his arms while staring at the tiny fish with a “you’ve got to be kidding me” expression. Fish Laszlo squeaks, “Not so tough now, eh??”

5a. Close up of mermaid Nandor in hunting mode, rushing left across the screen, his bioluminescent spots and glowing red eyes streaking light behind as he goes. He has one arm rushing forward as if to snatch whatever he’s chasing and the other held braced and ready at his shoulder, claws bared. He has spiny webbing like a bat’s wing underneath each arm, a spiny fin for an ear,and the webbed black spines at his shoulders have lengthened and spread out like an angry frilled lizard. His jaw has unhinged and gaped open, morphing and stretching his face into something monstrous and revealing dozens of long, sharp, thin teeth snarling and ready for the kill. 5b. Mermaid Guillermo floats nearby watching, eyes bulging out and face blushing bright red as he clutches the snail shell necklace in his laced fingers as if it were a rosary. He is fully into this. /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #mermay #mermay 2023 #Wallace wwdits #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #laszlo cravensworth #nadja of antipaxos #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

[thepringlesofblood]

i am SCREAMING!!!!! YESSSSSYESSSSSSSSSSSSSS ACOC is one of my FAVORITE SERIES ALL TIIIIIME!!!!!!!!

okwearebreathingwearebreathing

I’m going in-depth on the names we have thus far. Calorum is the setting that has some of the cleverest wordplay ever, period, and I want to know EVERYTHING about our new guys!!!!!

let’s get this one out of the way

Colin Provlone (Zac Oyama) - Provolone is a kind of cheese. Colin is a name of Irish/Scottish origin. It’s nice to have one simple one.

Bishop Raphaniel Charlock (Brennan Lee Mulligan) - hmmmm are we going to get an actually Bulbian cleric/warlock this season????

Anyway, the scientific name for wild radish is Raphanus raphanistrum, so that’s probably where Raphaniel came from.

wild radish has two other names - “jointed charlock” and “white charlock”. So there we go.

Your typical red radish (as Brennan described his character to look like) is a subspecies of Raphanus raphanistrum called sativus.

but!!! even MORE interesting!!!! you know what order and family radishes are in? the order BRASSICALES in the family BRASSICACEAE!!!!! Like a certain pontifex we know of??

This could be 100% unintentional, there’s a Lot of vegetables in the family Brassicaceae, but I remain optimistic.

Lady Amangeaux Epiceé du Peche (Anjali Bhimani) - so, Fructera has always been French, natch.

She is a mango! French for mango = la mangue

Amangeaux = almonds (according to google translate, I couldn’t find this word anywhere else online, it’s extremely possible that it’s just the most French-sounding way of saying “a mango”)

Epiceé  = spicy (can be used as slang for y’know. spICY)

du Peche = of peach. maybe she is of house Peach?

Karna Solara (Aabria Iyengar) - this one has me kind of stumped.

there’s the obvious karn->carn->meat connection, but she’s a chili pepper. lmk if there’s some secret vegetable lore I’m missing with ‘karna’

there’s also solar -> sun, which makes sense since the crest of Brightgarden is a big sun, and we see the DM screen this season has a big sun on it.

pLUS when I looked up scientific name for chili pepper, they come from the order Solanales in the family Solanaceae.

Thane Delissandro Katzon (Lou Wilson) -

Katzon

immediately made me think of katsudon- an egg rice bowl w pork cutlet on top.

thank you @blueaerin for your post about how this is most likely a reference to Katz’s Delicatessan, a famous deli in NYC! I never would’ve know that.

Also “katson” = Finnish for “I look” - from the verb “katsoa” meaning “to look at” or “to watch over” - probably nothing.

Delissandro - deli - deli meat

Delicatessen - the double s inspired by this?

while I was looking at Finnish stuff i found out “delissa” means “at the deli” in Finnish

Thane - y’all who read Macbeth know this one.

In Anglo-Saxon culture, It’s a title of a landowner, specifically someone who was gifted land by a king.

In Scotland, it’s a feudal lord.

There’s a connotation of military use in all of the descriptions I’ve found, so judging by the armor he’s wearing, it might be being used as a term for “commander”

#d20 #dimension 20 #trw #the ravening war #acoc #original post #ref

[riveracheron]

eh. might as well post this now. a few of these are wish fulfillment rather than actual theorizing but explanations under the cut

i have an alchemy hyperfixation and all the alchemy stuff in tmagp makes me very excited so a lot of my theories are related to that

spoilers for the pilot btw

main character gets an eye injury - the image will not leave my head. in the magnus institute ruins statement there was this whole thing about redcanary having some kind of encounter with or experience with eye trauma and that feels like something thats just. gonna come up again

another mechanisms va - self explanatory, we need to complete the set. would love to hear kofi or rachel.

gwen has trauma related to something that happened with elias - this is going on the theory that she’s not elias’ counterpart, but a relative of some kind. something spooky happens to him and that pushes gwen to research the paranormal.

character referencing nicholas flamel - all the main characters have names that reference alchemists, and nicholas flamel is probably the most famous alchemist of all time. i doubt he’ll be given the smirke treatment because that kinda already happened with the transphobic wizard books, but someone could be sharing his name.

mag 114 statement is relevant - thats the. hill top road statement that deals with other realities, and anya (the statement giver) could be from the protocol verse. we could totally hear about the aftermath of her departure

alice/sam/gwen = three primes - the three main alchemical symbols on the OIAR crest, and a good sort of symbolic trio sorter. the three peimes are salt, sulphur and mercury, and are the basis for alchemy. the down to earth, reliable salt, the firey, unpredictable sulfur, and the adaptable, easygoing mercury. i think these could apply i just want to have it called out in universe

lena is a good person - i don’t think they’d pull the evil boss thing twice. i just think lena’s weird mannerisms are from her autistic swag

celia is related to or is agnes - (related to as in. her story involves agnes, not that shes like. a sister.) this comes from a theory by @/pinklotjeart, i think. basically: through the way her death was described (spark returned to the lightless flame) and some timeline discrepancies and general avatarness making it weird, agnes might not be Dead dead. and celia’s counterpart, lynne - well, she saw a fire ghost. also, both her and agnes are the only non one-off characters who have shakespeare names afaik. agnes MONTAGUE, celia from as you like it…

annabelle cane is related somehow - self explanatory, she was at hilltop road when everything went down. might have been pulled in.

a famous alchemist is robert smirke’d - self explaining, give me more canon historical figures jonny

another kitty cat - i want more kitty in podcast is that a crime

augustus is not jonah - we hear jonah’s voice as ben meredith in 193, so im skeptical that tim fearon’s character is jonah for that reason.

oiar group has a messy moment that devolves into actual physical violence - mmm angst i think they deserve to smack eachother around a bit

bonzo cult - yeah.

oiar found family - we got the group of coworkers that hate each other angst last time gimme the “hurting one to get to the others” and self sacrifice angst this time

colin dies early - mmmm i cant say much about this bc its based on one throwaway line at the MCM panel where jonny doesn’t mention colin in the main character group. so . death flags.

oiar is containing the entities scp style - this was a super early theory of mine, either this or theyre using them for power or energy in some way. even more heavy handed capitalism metaphors yay

someone gets ushanka’d - its computer horror: the podcast. that’s all

cookbook statement - a few clues in the ARG had to do with cookbooks, and alex and jonny have already said they’re getting weird with the statement formats (they mentioned an insurance report!) so. cookbook doesn’t seem too far-fetched

tiktoker/influencer character - archives was 2010s and they had a podcaster and youtuber, which were like. the big things. whats the hip trend now??? instagram and tiktok baybee

protocol editors va a small role a la mag 100 or the wtgfs cult - those characters were voiced by other rq team members (ie helen as laverne and martyn as robin) and the team has since expanded!! some editors dis stuff for cry havoc, so im guessing nico, annie, april and others will get a small role!

a villain’s goal is creating the philosopher’s stone or other alchemical thing - tmagp is heavily inspired by alchemy, and the philosopher’s stone was the main goal of alchemy!! it would grant you eternal knowledge snd the ability to turn lead into gold- which seems like a good. evil dude’s ambition

the desolation gets more focus - the institute burned down, the oiar crest has a lot of sulfur symbols (the fire element), alchemy as a whole having to do with fire, celia and her connection- it paints a very. lightless flame picture

trip to germany - a lot of the arg was set in and around berlin, and there was that exchange between sam and colin about german in the pilot! i could see a germany trip happening in the same way jon took a trip to china and america.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmagp spoilers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 17

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: I just get this urge!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

The best night of your life passes in a haze of vibrant afterglow, intermingled with spurts of fiery passion. For as much as you can’t get enough of Jonathan, he can’t get enough of you. You forget about the world; about fatigue and responsibilities. There is only each other, only that desperate need to touch, kiss, and moan.

When at last you surrender to exhaustion, your dreams are tinged with visions of reality. Hard muscle, soft lips, and tender whispers. You sway on a tide of pleasured delirium until finally, the wave crests. You sink back down the waking world, your eyes fluttering as morning light stains the wall yellow.

You could swoon. You can’t believe it’s real. After the weeks of tension, fear, and stress, last night feels like no less than a fantasy. You slowly roll onto your back and reach blindly, daintily touching the figure beside you. Nope, he’s very real.

You look at Jonathan, his tall finger stretched across the mattress. One leg bent, one arm tucked under the pillow. His chest rises and follows in a rhythmic breath. His bare chest. The chest you just couldn’t stop grabbing and clawing as he… did wonderful things.

His cheek dimples as he smirks without opening his eyes, “do I have bedhead?”

“What?” You squeak, caught in your admiration. “Uh, no.”

He gives a rocky chuckle and turns onto his side. He hooks his arm around you and wiggles closer before you can fall onto your back. You gasp and brace his arm, letting your thumb rub the bulging muscles of his bicep.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“N-nothing,” you sputter.

He searches you with his blue-green eyes and a furrow pinches between his brows, “are you certain?” His blond lashes flick, “you don’t regret… last night?”

“No, no! Never,” you plead with him, letting your hand trail up to your shoulder, cheeks blooming with heat as you swallow a giddy squeal, “promise, I don’t. I couldn’t.”

He grins even bigger, “oh, I know, I just wanted to hear you say it,” he leans in and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“You… know? How?” You murmur, suffocated by his proximity.

“The noise you made, darling,” he growls and tilts his head to kiss you, long and hungry, pulling away with a nibble of your lower lip, “like a symphony.”

“Oh,” you utter bashfully.

“Might I hear them again?” He brushes his fingers down your side.

“I…”

“You won’t have to do a thing, darling,” he eases you onto your back as he kisses your lips again. 

He makes a path along your cheek and jaw, down to your throat as you gasp again. You clutch the loose bedsheet as your spine arches. His doting progress traces along your chest and stomach as he gently parts your legs. He kneels between them, lifting his head to look at you as he kisses the inside of your thigh, inspiring a quiver.

“You only have to sing for me, fawn,” he breathes as he edges closer to your vee, “mmm, darling…”

His nuzzles your cunt and his tongue glides between your folds. You moan and dig your nails into the mattress. Your toes curl and your muscles coil. The knot of pleasure begins to tangle again, longing for him to untie it. You close your eyes and let your head loll, succumbing to his diligent tending.

🌼

After another romp, or several, you give in to the day and beg Jonathan to let you out of bed. He does, reluctantly, as the same reticence slows your steps. You rinse off in the bathroom, surpassing a shower for the time in favour of coffee. He whisks past you as you emerge, a lingering touching on your hips as he does.

You go to the kitchen and rinse out the carafe to start a pot. You pause as you place it on the burner. Would he rather tea? You should’ve asked.

He surprises you as he appears, dressed, his hair slightly damp as he combs his fingers through it. His shirt is slightly wrinkled and there’s an ugly crease in his slacks. He’s unbothered by his uncharacteristic disarray.

“Ah, you just relax,” he comes to you and takes the empty carafe, setting it in the machine. “I will go down to the cafe and fetch us breakfast,” he kisses your head before he pulls away, checking his watch, “they’ve a lavender latte I’ve heard rave reviews about. Would you like to try it?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do all that. I have eggs in the fridge–”

“Ah ah,” he waves his hand, “I won’t hear of it.”

“Really, I–”

“Darling, I must warn you, I don’t think you quite know what you’ve signed up for,” he winks, “I won’t let you trouble over me. I’m not that type. Let me take care of you. You deserve that after all that’s transpired.”

“Jonathan,” you say.

“Mmm, say it again,” he drawls as he cups your chin.

“Jonathan,” you repeat more firmly. “That cafe is expensive–”

“Don’t worry for it,” he shakes his head and lays another kiss on your head, “stay and relax. You had a long night.”

Your brows pop up at his insinuation. For someone who always came across so proper, he can be coy. You shrug and relent.

“Fine,” you agree, “thanks, and er, yeah, I suppose I could try the lavender.”

“Wonderful,” he grins before his demeanour greys and he brings a long finger up, “lock the door.”

“I will,” you avow, the stone plummeting back into the depths of your heart. Oh yeah.

“And call me should you need me,” he demands. You nod as you chew your lip.

You follow him to the door, in only a long tee with Tigger on the front, and find your keys. You hand them over and he steals another kiss before he goes. You are quick to turn the latch, watching through the peephole as he lingers for a moment, eyeing the door with distaste.

He leaves at last and you back away. Somehow you forgot about it all. The carving on your door, your suspension, and lunch with your mother. The afterglow evaporates entirely as you come back down to earth.

You grab your phone and check your notifications. There’s a missed call from your mother and another from your sister. You pace around the front room as you ponder what to do. You return to the bedroom and look at the twisted sheets and the blanket hanging half off the side.

You put your phone down and tidy up the bed. You pull the mattress sheet taut and shake out the pillows. You spread the top sheet and replace the duvet on top. You twiddle your fingers restless and spin to sit on the edge. Your phone lights up suddenly, buzzing on the night table.

You swipe it up and answer, your sister’s name glancing across the screen before you bring it to your ear.

“Hey,” you eke out.

“So,” Geri begins in her way, “I guess that means you want a plus one.”

“What?” You sputter.

“I figured you’d be coming alone so I didn’t factor in the extra plate. So, plus one?” She continues as if you hadn’t said a word.

“What do you–”

“Mom told me about your boyfriend,” she nearly scoffs, “she said he’s charming. Of all things. Just make sure he wears a tie, okay?”

“Ger, I– if it’s a big deal–”

“No, it’s not,” she dismisses, “besides, I don’t need you moping on my special day, the way you do. It’s about time you found someone.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“And your bridesmaid’s dress. Champagne is the colour scheme. Satin preferably. I’ll send a pic of what the other girls got,” she bowls you over again. She is, of your sisters, the most like your mother. “No flats, okay? This isn’t a ballet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t do that,” she sneers, “and you’ll be at the rehearsal dinner. You’ll need a dress for that too…”

She begins to rant. As you try to keep up, you frown. You hope you’re never a bride, it seems like a lot of work. If you did get married, you’d be just fine signing the paper at the courthouse. You chew your thumb and nod dumbly along.

“Are you listening?” She snaps curtly.

“Yeah, just making notes,” you lie.

“Mom was saying she never hears from you. None of us do…”

Again you drift away. Like the lunch with your mother, you’re just a punching bag for all their gripes. Somehow, even your younger sisters make their problems yours. You pick at the hem of your shirt and muddle through the shopping list of Geri’s complaints.

A thump makes you flinch. You can’t help but squeak as you glance over at the wall. You squint. What was that? It comes again. Your focus completely cracks.

“Geri,” you interrupt, “I’ll have to call you back.”

“What? I’ll be at work.”

“Then call me when you’re not. I gotta go.”

You hang up as the thumping continues. The tempo slowly builds and there’s a creaking interwoven with the heavy bumps. Then voices come, permeating the adjoined wall. The very one you share with Ally. You cover your mouth in shock.

Her shrill cries intermix with the banging, what you can only assume is the bed frame. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but much more intense. It’s usually subtle enough to drown out. And another voice, deeper. Both so loud it can only be deliberate.

You grip your phone tight and stumble out of the room. You shut the door, blocking out the cacophony. It can’t be an accident. You know that much.

You go back to the living room and tuck yourself into the corner of the couch. You stare at your phone but do nothing. You’re too shaken to even scroll through Insta.

You shouldn’t feel this way. Your chest shouldn’t hurt. Not because of him. You have Jonathan now so why does the idea of Colin being with her still feel so bad? You’re horrible.

You drop your phone on the cushion and turn your face down, hiding in your hands as you sniffle. Jonathan’s gone to get you breakfast and you’re here about to cry over another man. You are rotten and stupid and weak.

The lock grinds loudly and the door opens. You snap your head up and listen as Jonathan enters. The door closes and you hear him shuffling before he appears. You try to smile but your cheeks only twitch. You get up to take the tray of drinks from him.

“Here, let me help,” you say sheepishly.

You turn and set down the cardboard tray, the aroma of lavender wafting up to tickle your nose. You’re shaking. Jonathan comes up behind you and places the paper bag next to the cups, pressing himself to your back. He kisses your crown as he hugs.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you croak.

“You’re a very poor liar,” he girds, “and I’m not fond of dishonesty.”

“Sorry, I… my sister called,” you sniff, not quite a lie, “she wants me to get a dress. Two, actually, and…” You carefully detach from him and cross your arms, striding across the living room, “and there’s an engagement party and my mother told her about you–”

“Is that a bad thing?” He wonders as he opens the paper bag.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” you insist, “it’s only… a lot.”

“Surely, you planned on attending your sister’s wedding,” he intones, “and now you won’t have to do so alone. Are you not happy?”

“Of course, I guess… I’m nervous,” you try to shake off the grayness. You near him again as he holds out a cardboard container.

“It’s what they call a breakfast bowl. I wasn’t sure if you liked avocado so I had them put it on the side.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s very… thoughtful,” you make yourself smile, even though it hurts.

You go to the small table set against the wall between two chairs and place your breakfast there. You sit as he follows, setting down a tall cup beside the container. You thank him again. You peel off the lid and look at the foam, the pattern in it not the typical brown but a shade of lilac.

“Looks so good,” you murmur.

“It does,” he puts his own food on the other end of the table but doesn’t sit. “Eat, eat.�� He commands with a flick of his fingers.

“Uh, okay, aren’t you gonna–”

“In a moment,” he steps past you, his eyes set on the living room. 

You tense as you hear buzzing but you don’t dare turn back. He strides away as you peer down at the latte. He returns and sits across from you with your phone. He narrows his eyes at the screen as he reads the last notification as it vibes.

“What are you doing?” You reach for your phone but he keeps it out of your grasp.

“‘Hope you enjoyed the show’,” he reads out. “What show is this?”

“I don’t– who–”

“Ally, so the message says, but I do wonder if it truly is her,” his eyes meet yours sharply. “What does she mean?”

You drop your chin and take a breath. You slump down and talk to the table, “they were… being loud. When you were gone.”

“Ah,” he accepts, “and you listened?”

“N-no, I heard but I came out here so I couldn’t.”

He taps his thumb on the screen as he looks at it again. He huffs and turns it towards you but keeps a tight grip, “unlock it.”

“Huh?” You bat your lashes.

“Unlock the phone.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making certain you are safe, as I have done,” his tone turns rigid, “haven’t I?”

“Yes, but–”

“And you trust me, yes?”

“I do, but Jonathan–”

“Unlock it, now.”

You struck by the edge in his voice. You’ve only ever heard that when he had Colin by the scruff. Never towards you. Your lip trembles as you have no argument. He’s been so kind; he brought you breakfast and he said such sweet things and what he did…

“Sorry,” you reach across and press your fingertip to the censor to unlock it, “there.”

“Thanks,” he says tritely as he flips the phone back to face him.

You’re quiet as you focus on the container, carefully popping open the lid. The egg, avocado, an array of colourful veggies tease your hunger. It’s only then that your stomach clenches in desperation. You unwrap the bamboo fork and twirl it nervously as you peek up at Jonathan. He glares at your phone.

“Why didn’t you show me all this?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“These vile messages from that man?”

“I… I told you he was—”

“You didn’t tell me everything. Fawn, how can I protect you when I don’t know?” His harsh gaze makes you wince.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“We both know that man is deranged. I am only trying to help. And the thought of him ever laying a finger on you,” he stops and shudders, “we’ve committed to each other, yes? So we must start from honesty.”

You gulp and nod, “you’re right. I’m sorry, but that was before and I didn’t know how to tell you…”

“Now you know.” He lays your phone down beside your cup, “that you can and should tell me everything.”

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #colin shea x reader #jonathan pine x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #crushed #series #the night manager #what's your number?

[na-bird-of-the-day]

BOTD: Double-crested Cormorant

Photo: Colin Durfee

"This dark, long-bodied diving bird floats low in the water with its thin neck and bill raised; perches upright near water with wings half-spread to dry. The Double-crested (which rarely looks noticeably crested in the field) is the most generally distributed cormorant in North America, and the only one likely to be seen inland in most areas."

- Audubon Field Guide

#birds #double crested cormorant #birds of north america #north american birds #cormorants #diving birds #seabirds #birds of the us #birds of canada #birds of mexico #birds of the caribbean #birding #bird watching #birdblr #birblr #bird of the day #Nannopterum auritum

[rubysunnday]

Would I run off the world someday?

summary: the urge to run away sometimes becomes utterly unavoidable

It was a quiet, cloudy afternoon in the Kent countryside. The wisteria clinging to the outside walls of Aubrey Hall occasionally danced as the wind swept over it. After the chaotic first few weeks of the season, a sense of calm had finally arrived as the endless invites slowed down. There was always an inevitable lull a few weeks into the season - the ton tended to forget how exhausting attending ball after ball was. 

And, for the first time in a while, there was harmony in the drawing room of Aubrey Hall. Benedict and Colin sat on a sofa, both drawing into their sketchbooks. Colin was finishing up a sketch he’d started out in Greece, one that depicted the ruins of the former temples, whilst Benedict swept the page with his charcoal, trying to draw Y/N as she sat on the sofa opposite, embroidering a bunch of honeysuckle. Daphne sat next to her, quietly embroidering the Basset family crest.

Anthony was sitting at his table, completely engrossed in that morning’s newspaper. Gregory sat opposite him, concentrating on his latin, carefully writing down each word with his quill. Eloise and Hyacinth sat at the other table, both quietly munching on the tray of cakes the cook had sent up whilst reading the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Francesca was sitting at the piano, scribbling away at her sheet music with a pencil.

A comfortable silence had settled over the siblings as they all went about their own business. 

“Now, Y/N, darling, I’ve invited the Earl of Shaftesbury to dine with us on Friday when we return to London,” Violet announced, walking into the drawing room. She was holding several letters, all with different crests stamped into their wax seals. 

Y/N looked up, holding her needle between two fingers. “Who?”

Violet paused and looked down at her. “The Earl of Shaftesbury,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “You danced with him just last week at the Cowper Ball.”

Y/N turned her head and looked at Daphne. “I did?” She whispered, leaning over to her sister.

Daphne leant in. “Third dance of the night. He was wearing a dark blue coat and introduced himself as Francis.”

“Oh, the earl,” Y/N said, sitting up right and nodding. “Did you invite anyone else? Perhaps Elisabeth Jordan might like to join us as well - she’s been to Greece too, Colin.”

“No, just the earl,” Violet replied, smiling. She was clearly up to something, Y/N knew that. “I thought it might be good for the two of you to get to know one another better.”

There it was.

Y/N said nothing, turning back to her embroidery with a sigh. It was her mother’s mission to see each one of her children happily married and expecting a child of their own within a year of that marriage. She struggled to accept the fact that some people just weren’t meant to be married. Or that some people may not want children. It was perfectly reasonable - there would be rumours swirling around about why but they would fade soon enough.

“Oh, Y/N, dear, don’t give me that look,” Violet said, turning to face her daughter. “I’m doing this for you!”

“I danced with him once, mama.”

“He’s an excellent match! He’s intelligent, kind and would be advantageous for you!” Violet folded the letters back up again. “I expect you to be there and I expect you to sit next to him and make polite conversation.”

“Mama -”

“No, Y/N. I’ve given you plenty of time to make the first move yourself. We’re four weeks into the season and you have had endless callers but you have not followed up with a single one.”

Y/N set aside her embroidery hoop and turned to face her mother. She wasn’t in the mood to be berated. “Has it ever occurred to you, mother, that perhaps I don’t want to get married yet? That, maybe, I don’t want to have children either?”

Everyone in the room froze. No one dared to raise their heads or even make eye contact with one another. Anthony risked a glance up and over at his sister, silently proud of her for making a stand, whilst also knowing the conversation was inevitably about to get nasty. 

Violet blinked. She blinked again. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Y/N sat up, sitting on the edge of the sofa, “what if I am quite content to simply… entertain myself for the foreseeable future? I do not understand why my future has to depend on my making an advantageous match. I am perfectly happy as I am right now.”

“That may be so, dear, but you cannot expect to be that way forever!” Violet laughed but there was no humour in it.. “Eventually, like all of us, you will move out to live with your husband.”

“But what if I do not want to get married?”

“You do not have a choice, Y/N,” Violet grounded out. “It is what is expected of you.”

“Yet, it isn’t expected of the men,” Eloise chimed in, keeping her eyes focused on Whistledown.

“There are rules for men and rules for women and whilst I agree that it is unfair, that is the hand we have been dealt,” Violet continued, barely sparing Eloise a glance. 

Y/N looked at her mother. “I understand that. But why do I have to get married this season?” She sighed. “I just want a year to adjust to everything because, despite the preparation, there is a lot I was not prepared for.”

“The longer you wait, the harder it becomes,” Violet continued, refusing to back down. “Besides, if you get married this year, next year you can enjoy the season with your children.”

“And if I don’t want children?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N, of course you want children.”

“I don’t want children,” Eloise called.

“Eloise,” Violet warned, glaring at her. She looked back at Y/N. “Children are a part of life, dearest. The joy of building your own family is second to none.”

“But what if I don’t want to,” Y/N tried again. “I have no interest in having any of my own, mama. I have no need to!”

“Your husband would disagree,” Violet said firmly, clearly indicating that the conversation was over. “I will hear no more of this. The earl is coming next week and you will try your hardest to win him over.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows and huffed a sigh out. She stood up and brushed past her mother, pulling open the drawing room door and disappearing out of it without a word.

Anthony sighed, folding his newspaper shut. “I’ll go,” he grumbled, following after his sister.

Y/N almost ran down the stairs, as desperate to get away as she was. She took a corner sharply and bumped into a maid, nearly knocking her into a nearby table. 

As she stormed into the stables, the stable hand looked a little alarmed but said nothing, hurrying out of her way. Y/N’s horse was already saddled up. Before her mother had ruined her afternoon, she had been planning on going out for a ride with her brothers.

She was still going to do that - just a little faster and with less care about how she looked afterwards. 

Y/N swung up onto her horse and gathered the reins into her hands, squeezing with her knees to urge her horse onwards. She tightened the reins and as they emerged out of the stables and past the back door, they were almost at a canter.

Anthony stepped out the back door as Y/N rode past, her horse clearly responding to its riders' need to run away and fast. He swore softly and ran down to the stables, snatching his horse's reins from the stablehand and swinging his leg up and over.

He urged his horse on and soon he too was cantering out the stables and down the path that led into the woods. Y/N was just too far ahead of him which made it difficult to catch up, especially when she was clearly encouraging her horse to ride flat out.

Y/N was oblivious to her frantic older brother chasing after her. The adrenaline rushing through her veins drowned at any and all thoughts she had of her future - the uncertainty around her life and who she would end up with. It drowned out the all consuming feeling of knowing you had no control over anything and instead, all she could hear was the wind rushing through her ears and her horses grunts as he pulled at the reins, wanting to go even faster. 

She obliged, letting the reins go a little bit more. It was too fast, Y/N knew that. But her desperation to run and keep on running was overwhelming - it was blinding her, rendering her numb. 

Her horse gradually began to slow down as he ran out of energy. Y/N didn’t fight it. Anthony managed to catch up with them, reaching over and snatching the reins from Y/N’s hands and bringing them both to a controlled stop, just metres away from the edge of the lake. 

Y/N looked ahead, panting hard, sweat beading on her brow. The wind had torn her hair from its pins and tendrils stuck to her face, knotted together. Mud splattered up the hem of her pale blue dress and her arms were speckled with goosebumps. 

Anthony looked at her. He raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

Y/N swallowed, her mouth dry. “Do you ever feel like you're suffocating?”

Anthony turned his horse to face Y/N. He sat up, straightening his back and sighed. “Every day.”

“I never used to.” Y/N breathed heavily, brushing her hair back from her face with a shaking hand. “Not until this year. Now it’s all balls and suitors and marriage - and I have no control over any of it. It’s like my life is no longer my own.”

“That’s exactly how I felt after father died. I was suddenly thrust into a role I hadn’t been properly prepared for and no one asked me how I felt. I went from Anthony to Viscount in a matter of moments and I had no control over any of it.”

Anthony rarely opened up like this - was rarely vulnerable like this. He shielded himself from his family and never let them see more than he wanted them to. Whether it was out of fear of judgement of lack of understanding, Y/N didn’t know. Anthony was the one thing that held the Bridgerton’s together and perhaps he thought that if he broke, then so would everyone else. 

Y/N didn’t remember much of her father’s death and the days that followed. Benedict had told her how Anthony had shoved his own grief to the side and had taken control - had become the viscount. It helped her mind to know that Anthony too felt like he was suffocating. 

“I feel like I’m running down a hill and I can’t stop,” Y/N said, her words still a little spaced out as she caught her breath. “There’s a giant rock chasing me and if I stop, even for a second, I’ll be hit.” Anthony kept quiet, letting his sister run through her thoughts. “I have only been out in society for a month and yet, I am expected to have fallen in love already - to have decided on marriage and who the father of my children will be. I barely know what my favourite colour is, Anthony. How am I meant to make such a significant decision at barely eight and ten years of age?”

Anthony shrugged. His horse snorted, tossing his head back. “Society seems to think you are old enough.”

“Fuck society.”

Anthony snorted. He couldn’t help it. His sister rarely swore - it wasn’t proper - but when she did, it always made him laugh. His snort elicited a smile from Y/N and Anthony matched it. 

“I can talk to mother,” Anthony said, “and tell her to take a step back.”

Y/N closed her eyes, the wind blowing around them. “Do you think it would help?”

Anthony paused. “I don’t know. It would give you time to get your head straight.”

“But all the eligible men might be gone.”

Anthony nodded. “There is that element to it.”

“Then I appear to have no choice.” Y/N sighed, looking defeated. 

“Meet with the Earl of Shaftesbury next week,” Anthony said. “See how the dinner goes, how he is around you and take it from there. If he is not the right person then we will try again. You may not be able to avoid marriage and children for as long as you’d like, but we can take our time with finding the right husband for you.”

Y/N nodded, pressing her lips together. “That would help. But if I don’t find a match this season -”

“Then we try again next season,” Anthony replied simply. “Besides, do you honestly think Eloise will be getting married this season?”

“I don’t think Eloise will be getting married full stop, Anthony,” Y/N muttered, guiding her horse to turn around. She urged it forward and Anthony followed, the two siblings slowly walking back to the house. “It’s a miracle she’s agreed to attend any balls at all.”

“Bribery works miracles,” Anthony said, smiling to himself. “I just really hope Francesca is more compliant - I only have so much money spare each month.”

Y/N laughed. She looked over at her brother and smiled at him. “Thank you for listening. It helps to know I’m not alone.”

Anthony tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “I will always listen, Y/N and I will always have your back.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton!sis #bridgerton sister #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #fic #fanfic #platonic

[jellycatstuffies]

Jellycat Amphibians And Reptiles

(from left to right, top to bottom: Syd Salamander, Gunner Gecko, Frankie Frilled-Neck Lizard, Colin Chameleon, Cruz Crested Newt, Mack Mudskipper, Andie Axolotl, Alice Axolotl, Stevie Snake and Finnegan Frog)

Ko-fi / Instagram

#stuffed animals #stuffies #stuffed animal #jellycat #jellycats #jellycatstuffies #jellycatplush #amphibians #amphibian #reptiles #reptile #lizards #cute #plush #plushies #plushblr #plushie #plushcore #plushiecore #stuffiecore #allplush #plush toy #plush toys #soft toy #soft toys #toycore #kidcore #salamander #frog #axolotl

[sea-owl]

How about an au where alphas have to show off to their potential mates during courting like the peacocks they are.

During balls and calls for courting, the alphas are decked out in jewelry to show off their wealth and ability to provide for their mate. Underneath their cravats, they wear a special necklace that they only ever taken off to gift to their mates. It's given to them when they become of age.

The start of a courtship happens during a dance when an alpha gives a small piece of his jewelry to the person they intend to court. Usually, like a bracelet, something they can slip on easily and has the least amount of skin contact so they can keep it appropriate if in public.

As the courtship goes further a long the more of their jewelry the omega will give their intended mate until it eventually leads to the necklace that joins and eventually replaces the choker their intended mate wears to protect their mating glands.

Alphas will also bring other gifts during courtship such a treats, potential nesting materials, and other things to prove to their potential mate that they can provide for them.

Anthony, as the viscount, does have the most jewelry among his brothers, but the others also do have plenty of their own. Not that anyone would guess. He went for so long without wearing it that his whole family had to do a double take in 1814 when Anthony appeared ready for a ball one day just bejeweled. His jewelry is very traditional, most pieces have been passed down through the family. His necklace carried the family crest of the bee. He only ever gotten as far as giving Edwina the bracelet in his attempt to court her. The whole time as well Edwina made remarks how the bracelet suited Kate much more. She was right of course. After the bee incident and Anthony's courting jewelry went to Kate, and at least the necklace covered where he left a hickey on her chest.

Colin's jewelry was probably the most mismatched among his brothers, and then you learned that the majority of it was acquired through his travels. His jewelry also tended to be in silver. His necklace was a chain of stars that connected to the main pendant of a star sapphire. So Colin wasn't quite traditional about offering his jewelry to Penelope. During their first kiss, something clicked in his brain, and oh, he liked kissing Penelope. It was during that kiss that Colin slipped his bracelet on her wrist. She didn't notice at first and then had the nerve to thank him after their kiss?! She tried to return her new bracelet too when they next saw each other but Colin refused to let her. It was in the carriage after discovering her secret, with her underneath him and his alpha screaming at him to claim his mate that Colin placed the rest of his courting jewelry on her. The only one he didn't get on her was his necklace, but that's OK he'll do that after talking with her mother.

#bridgerton #kathony #polin #omegaverse #peacock alphas #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #penelope featherington

[abridgerton]

My Duty, My Honor {Reader x Anthony}

Part 1/?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Triggers: Kissing, suggestive talk, forced marriage

Summary: Lily Wickham was caught with Anthony in a secret rondevouz in the garden, leaving her and the rakinsh Viscount no choice but to get married - even if she detests him.

A/N: Hello! I adore writing for Anthony, and I particularly like where this story is going - so please, if you enjoy reading this, please let me know that it would be worth writing a part two!

~ Sometimes, when I close my eyes I can imagine myself in a world where I am free; someplace where I am not bound to my duty or my family. To love freely with whom I choose - to find happiness in my other half. Oh, I long for the day I find romance and acceptance; for the first time in my life I shall know joy ~

My hopeful dreams of a love match have disappeared entirely as of last night. The Viscount Bridgerton asked for my hand in marriage two twilights ago, and upon the insistence of my mother, I accepted.

When I was a young girl I entertained myself with fantasies of my prince charming - a gallant man who would sweep me off my feet and carry me into the sunset; a man who was decorated with manners and grace, a man who I would be proud to father my children. Viscount Bridgerton is far from what I had in mind. Perhaps my disdain for him stems from the wild cowlick hair that stands up off the back of his head, or that annoying purr in his voice when he speaks.

"Lydia," he panted in agony, "we should not be here..." His shimmering green eyes momentarially connected with mine, as he ran his devilishly dark irises along the length of my body - up and down before landing on my lips, and planting a soft kiss. I have never known such bliss, or such rebellion. Something about the impertinence made him so .. exciting. Anthony was the forbidden fruit, and I could not help but take a bite.

"Something about his arrogant countenance displeases me," I thought as I sat near the foot of my bed, staring at the gold trimmed white wall in front of me. To my right, on the nearby wall sat my families tapistry, woven from the finest gold, green, and red threads my ancient family could source. It displayed my families crest - an ornate display of leopards and snakes intertwining a large shield engraved with the family name, Wickham.

This tapestry was purposefully placed in my chambers as a permanent reminder of my duty to the family. No matter the circumstance, it is my duty to populate my family line - and I must do so by marrying well. As far as Viscount Bridgerton goes, he is head of the wealthiest estate in the county. Though I disapprove of him, I cannot deny the advantages of giving him my hand - a sizeable dowry for my future daughters, a place in society, an esate to own; oh, this life would be any womans dream.

Sometimes , late at night when I'm alone , I envision myself as Viscountess and head woman of the Bridgerton house; I will not jest, the idea of such prestige is a pleasant one. The union would bring me a new wardrobe, fine carriages, and luxury beyond anything I have ever known.

Marriage to this rakish man is my one chance of living in such splendor. Why must it he him that I marry? Why could Colin have not been first born? Or Benedict? Why Anthony?

I would rather resign my life away to an artist or a nomad than a man of such disgusting hubris. Nonetheless, I am the first born daughter of my family, and thus I must secure my position. After all, I will be the one responsible for paying their dowries and assimilating them into society.

What a terrible burden.

"Madam?" My ladies maid loudly called out from behind my chamber room door, "it is time to be dressed."

"Already?" panic resounded through my head, "I'm not ready..."

Despite my internal doubts, I beckoned my ladies maid to join me. As she entered the room, I noticed an emerald green silk gown with silver embellishments sprawled across her arms. I had never seen this gown before, a genuine suprise to me.

"Where did you get this?" I asked the ladies maid in an accusatory tone.

She waited to respond, continuing to lay the wrinkles out on the dress - but after a few beats she met my eyes for a moment, "It was picked up today from the modiste," she answered in a flat tone, "I'm told it was a rush order."

This response was shocking at first, for I did not know my mother was already arranging my marriage wardrobe. It is true - the Viscount and I had a whirlwind romance; it had not even been two weeks after we met that we were declared to be married. It had all happened so quickly that night in the garden ...

I remember the way his fair skin shone in the ambient starlight - his radience illuminating the vines around the garden wall - and the way the flowers around us smelled after the fresh rain that evening. He bewitched me with just one flash of that charming smile, just one glance with him was enough to break down my walls and give myself to him. "You are utterly breathtaking," he whispered into my ear, the heat of his breath warming the full of my lips, "I cannot control myself ..." Even the memory was intoxicating - ruining my head all over again.

It was only a kiss. Just one.

Thats all it took.

Now I will be Viscountess Bridgerton - what a terrifying thought.

I wish so terribly that Mrs. Featherington had not been out for a promenade that night. I wish we would have chosen the library, or the closet, or anywhere more discreet ... but the garden? What were we, animals?

My daydreaming was swiftly interrupted once again by a hughty womans voice, "Ma'am" my maid beckoned, "we really must begin.."

I loudly huffed, forced to remember that my time is never truly my own. "Right," I replied, "we must be going soon." She nodded with me in agreement.

With a heavy sigh, I positioned myself in front of my bed post, and grabbed hold-

"Breathe out!" my maid shouted, "Suck in!" she barked, and I did as I was told. She pulled the laces tighter, and tighter around my chest until I was sure my ribs would snap. What would society say then? Would they say I was unfit to marry due to injury? Perhaps I could befall some tradgedy, so I may spare Anthony and I the impending disaster of this match ...

-she began to work on my hair. I watched as she pinned my long stands of platinum blonde hair into an updo upon the crown of my head. She separated thin locks of my hair into tight spirals, exposing the back of my neck and freeing my shoulders from the weight of my hair. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the uncertainty written across my features as plain as day. What if he changed his mind and left me jilted? What if we truly were miserable together? Would I be able to love him?

Ouch! I gasped as my maid mistakingly nicked my scalp with a starp hairpin. She immediately recoiled and appologized, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to be so careless-"

I met her eyes in the mirror and cut her off, "It's fine, Mary," I let out a small exhale and looked down at the wooden floor below by vanity, "just continue, please." Mary nodded and swifty began pinning my hair again.

I hate the fuss and the frills and the dancing that is expected of a lady. Its all so ... dramatic! Why should I be forced to ready myself for hours to be considered presentable to society? Why should I not be given the privilege of skipping out on events of the ton like my brothers?

As much as these questions bothered me, I could not focus on them for too long. Mary had finished my hair and powder, which meant I was officially ready to be transported. Mary placed her hand gently on my right shoulder - just next to the lace trimming of my dress, and spoke, "M'lady, its time." I rose from my chair with a grim expression and began straigntening out the front of my dress.

I could not let the Viscount see me in such a distressed state.

"One. Two. Three," I counted slowly, "inhale, exhale .."

"Okay," I said to Mary, "I think I'm ready."

She turned to me and smiled with her dark lips curled into a delicate smirk and her eyebrows tightly drawn. Perhaps she saw the desprate look on my face, or the small bead of sweat forming on my brow, because she felt the need to remind me of my duty.

"You know what you must do," Mary whispered as she grabbed my hands, "you know what must be done."

Her words awoke something in me - something dutiful and ancient. Like my mother, and her mother, and back and back and back, I would marry well and secure my position for my future children.

Though these things were true, I might as well have been walking to the gallows. This was the end of my feedom; my secret horseback rides at dawn, lonesome walks into town, silent nights - these would all be stolen from me within the confines of marriage. My life would never be my own.

One stolen moment in the garden left me bound to a man I could not detest more. The heavens must be frowning upon be in this moment.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #edwina sharma #king george #violet bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #period drama rp #period drama #regency era

[thekatebridgerton]

Today on another episode of stories I wish someone would write: Bridgerton flowershop vs tattoo parlour au

I don't know i just thought of an au where Benedict runs a tattoo parlor with Gen Delacroix as a passion project and has overseen the designs for the ink of all his siblings. But with some drama added

Anthony: the most serious of business men, everyone thinks he doesn't have tattoos, because hes so straight laced, but in reality he's got his whole back inked. The tattoo on his back is a very detailed clockwork machinery inside a beehive which he got when Edmund died. The only person outside of his family who's ever seen the tattoo up close outside is Kate Sharma, a woman Anthony has a complicated past with. Kate used to be one of Anthony's business competitors, but after having a falling out with her sister where Anthony was heavily involved, Kate retired from the corporate world and decided to open a Dog Groomer Salon to get her life back on track. 'Sir Newton's Pet Pampering' happens to be right across Bridgerton's Ink and in between Sophie's flower shop and Peneloise bookstore. Anthony finds every excuse he can to visit Benedict and watch Kate from afar, trying to work up the courage to approach her and fix things. Even tho she's under the impression that Anthony ruined her relationship with Edwina on purpose and absolutely hates his guts.

Benedict: with the exception of his siblings he's the artist and Gen is more of the one with the needle, he doesn't ink customers. He's got a very nice tattoo of art supplies intertwined with the Bridgerton family crest all across his chest (a tribute to his family and his lifelong dream), he likes to wear shirts that are slightly open in the front, to give people a peek but also leave them wondering about the full thing. The only person aside from his family that he's ever inked is 'flower shop' Sophie from across the street. He may or may not be totally smitten with her ever since she first came into his business, but she doesn't take him seriously because he's been acting like a wishy washy playboy since meeting her. She's a single mom, who is very secretive about why the father of her little Charlie isn't in the picture and thinks that Benedict is bad news in an ink covered package, but he wants to show her that she's wrong, so wrong, he can help her, now if only she would let him show her that he's not such a bad guy. Then maybe that masquerade tattoo he inked in her shoulder could be joined by a glass slipper

Colin: the consummate travel writer, he's got both arms tatted up with quotes in different languages and artwork of the places he's traveled, and he loves to push up his shirtsleeves to show them off, especially around Penelope. His long time friend who runs the bookstore cafe across the street with his sister. but lately he's been (mooching off) staying with Benedict for a while longer ever since Genevieve let it slip that Penelope might have seen all Colin's tattoos but she's obviously never shown him hers. Now Colin is paranoid about Penelope's secret tattoos, why didn't she tell him? Where did she get inked? Does she have more secrets?. Penelope on the other hand is struggling to hide her secret life as erotic romance writer Lady Whistledown, while she dodges Colin's pursuit and manages the bookstore, as much as she's always wished for his undivided attention, she's not going to show him her tattoos just to satisfy his curiosity. ( Especially not the Quill tattoo she got right below her breast or the matching parchment tattoo she got in the inside of her upper thigh). This, predictably is driving Colin crazy

Eloise: Eloise was never a fan of tattoos like her brothers, sure shes got a small violet in her ankle and a 'Girlboss' and 'Smash the patriarchy' inked in small print around her right wrist. But she's never seen the appeal of huge tattoos... Until Philip the plant guy. Truthfully he's just of one of her bookstore's regulars, who works with Sophie from down the street. And drinks his coffee in El's book cafe, El makes small talk with him on slow mornings but it's not like they're friends ( sometimes he leaves Eloise flowers instead of a tip, but that's a conversation for another day). The thing is that with that nerdy, Frazzled, soccer dad look, Eloise would have never thought that Philip the plant guy was inked all over. Not until she accidentally saw him shirtless when she was over at Ben's. And boy not only is the man ripped, he's got the entire upper part of his body tattooed in plants and flowers, back, front, arms, all the way to his wrists. Now everytime Eloise sees him all she can think about is what he's hiding under all that flannel and her brain blanks out, so much she can't handle a normal conversation with him, not only that, she babbled nervously so much that she somehow ended up volunteering to help him teach his kids how to swim. Now all Eloise can think about is that she just volunteered to be somewhere public, with Phillip in his swimming trunks and children present. Why did things have to get so complicated?? He's Philip the plant guy! She's not supposed to like him ( but she does)

An: and yeah that's the tea

#bridgerton #polin #kanthony #philoise #Benophie #coffee shop tattoo shop au

[quillsthrills]

Drabble in which Colin tells his brothers about the carriage

“You did what?”

Anthony’s eyebrows are threatening to disappear under his fringe, which has escaped its normally well-groomed shape and is hanging in disarray across his forehead. In his agitation the viscount has been running his hands repeatedly through his hair, a motion which intensified in force and frequency as Colin spoke. Now, Lord Bridgerton looks slightly deranged, as though a savage has replaced the nobleman.

“Let me get this straight Colin. You started your day with the gentlemanly intention of ensuring a young lady’s safety – a young lady who, I might add, is very dear to more than one member of this family. You then proceeded to avert the danger – the details of which you refuse to divulge – and made an honourable retreat into our carriage. The one with our family crest on it.”

“Right you are,” says Colin, nervously watching as his brother gathers steam.

“However, despite being older and wiser than when you spent some ill-advised time alone with Ms Thompson, you decided that this time you would not suppress your urges and proceed in a gentlemanly manner?”

“I don’t recall making an actual decision,” mumbles Colin, “it was more like being compelled by a superior force.”

Anthony’s eyes are flashing dangerously as Benedict, who thus far has remained quiet, snorts loudly.

“So you went ahead, even though you were a mere half hour from the residence where you could ask for the girl’s hand first, and used our carriage for fornication, defiling the young lady’s honour in a manner which could hardly have escaped the driver’s notice. And even if he was somehow oblivious to it all, the servants at the Featherington household saw you exit the carriage with shirt buttons missing, her dress crooked and torn, and your hair rearranged beyond recognition?”

“A fair summary,” mutters Colin. Then, unable to stop himself, he breaks into a smile. “Don’t worry, brother. We will refrain from using the carriage once we are married. Your carriage, that is.”

“There,” says Benedict, “what more can you ask for? Our sinful brother has repented – let us once more welcome him into the family fold.”

After a long pause, Anthony looks up, his lips twitching.

“Never force me to order a deep clean of the carriage again,” he says, before raising his glass.

“To Colin and Penelope, may their sins be forever confined to the privacy of their own home and property.”

#polin #Colin and Penelope #colin x penelope #penelope and colin #Penelope Featherington #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton brothers #bridgerton

[peggyloraine]

I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I love Eloise. I think she is young, naive, sheltered, and currently self centered. She is very much a female Colin that is trying to create a space for herself in her world. She is Penelope’s platonic soul mate. But these are two very different tween girls. They are not women. S2 they were both 18. Cut them some slack.

That being said, you go on and on about how horrible Penelope is so let’s explore Eloise. Season 1 she collaborating with the Queen Charlotte. She did sound excited, but she also talked about how she would convince LW to change her paper and include the content she wanted. During both seasons. Season two she went running to the business district in her carriage with her family crest emblazoned on it and her aristocratic finery. She went to actually search for LW once or twice. The rest didn’t involve LW as much as Theo. Yes, that was Eloise’s choice but not her right to destroy her whole families reputation if she was caught. Remember that when Penelope outed Marina for her condition that it ruined the entire family. The Featheringtons were told by the Queen’s footman to leave. Because of Daphne’s mercy, they were able to re enter society. So if Eloise was caught unchaperoned with an unmarried man from the lower classes she would have been ruined and forced to marry him, if he agreed(if not, either he or the Viscount would die on the field of honor).

So when Eloise got caught(as she was not hiding what she was doing well) she would disgrace her family and that means that her sisters would be lucky to marry a clergy or lower gentry. Very lucky. The two people most likely to marry would be Benedict, (because Sophie Becket is a maid) and Colin marrying Penelope, she already loves him and she is overlooked.

Now. I do think that this season and separation from Penelope will be good for Eloise. I hope her friend opens her eyes to her exceptional privilege and I also hope she opens her eyes to Penelope lack thereof. I almost hope it is a he though. I hope it is a man who makes a deal with her to pretend to court her( a gay guy friend). It would shield both of them and would therefore be mutually beneficial. Maybe Sophie could be Sebastian.

I still want her to write Marina and out Penelope. But I want Marina to write back that she already knows and has the whole time. That she is not angry with Penelope, because Colin would not have made her happy because his stories drive her up the wall. She is grateful actually.

I think if Eloise has to face a few hard truths about herself and her charmed life, that she will be better for it. I also hope footman John tells her that he can’t be party to anymore of her shenanigans because his mother and younger siblings depend on him and he nearly lost his job.

#polin #nicola coughlan #romancing mister bridgerton #luke newton #violet bridgerton #bridgerton family #polin bridgerton #romancing mr bridgerton #bridgerton #lady whistledown

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Penelope's Callers 3/10

Summary: Colin calls on Penelope, but finds that Penelope already has callers.

Taglist: @josephine-waters

Masterlist

The morning after Lady Danbury's ball, Colin got up early and barely ate his breakfast as he thought over what he would say to Penelope when he called on her.

"Colin, what is the matter?" Violet asked over her cup of tea. Before Colin could Evernote spit a reply out, in rushed Eloise with the latest Lady Whistledown's Society Papers.

"She'll make up anything just to get our attention!" Eloise exclaimed. "Miss Penelope Featherington danced with three different men last night. Duke Harry Dankworth of Flintshire, Mr. Marcus Anderson and Lord Debling. Maybe it's time she hung up the shrine she holds for Mr. Colin Bridgerton." This made Eloise laugh. "Penelope having feelings for Colin, it's absurd!"

As Eloise continued to laugh, Violet looked over at her son, who seemed to have sunk further into his chair. Could other people see the crush Pen had on him, but somehow he couldn't? As he came to realise his feelings, Pen was pushing hers to the side.

"Eloise, why don't you go show the new Whistledown to Francesca and Hyacinth?" Violet asks her second eldest daughter, who shrugged her shoulders and walked away. Once Eloise was gone, Violet took a seat closer to Colin. "Colin, darling."

"She hasn't, hasn't she? She's had feelings for me this whole time?" He asks, looking over at his mother.

"Truthfully, darling. She's loved you for years..." Violet tells him, and Colin nearly slips further into his seat.

An upset noise left Colin when the words left Violet's mouth. "Mama, what do I do?" He nearly whines.

Violet reached over and fiddled with the hair on the top of his head. "Flowers. That's always a good place to start," Colin looked up at her. "Get her roses."

Colin had heard for years between his mother and younger sister Daphne that different flowers and colours mean different things. "Yellow roses? Yellow will-"

"No."

Colin looked over at Violet, surprised she cut him off so suddenly.

"Never give a woman you intend to court, yellow roses. Never. Do you hear me, Colin Bridgerton?" He nodded his head, almost scared of his mother. "Now, they can't be lavender roses, because she's not your first love," Colin looked at his mother confused. "You were engaged to her cousin during her first season."

Colin blinked, remembering the time when he was engaged to Marina. He wished he could wipe that experience off the face of the earth. "What I feel for Penelope, it's a lot stronger than anything I felt for Marina."

Violet looked at her son, he had the same look on his face as Edmund when she was doused in flour at eight years old. Of all of her children, Colin was the most like her late husband, and she could see so much of herself in Penelope as she was once a wallflower and clung to the safety net of the edge of the balls.

"Lavender roses will do nicely then, my darling."

After a visit to the florists, Colin arrived at the Featherington Home, there were already three carriages sitting on the road. Judging by the crests on the side, it was Dankworth, Anderson and Debling. The same three men were seen dancing with Penelope at last night's ball.

Colin muttered a curse and jogged up the steps. Standing by the door was Ludders, Featherington's loyal butler.

"Mr. Bridgerton," Ludders greets.

"I'm here to see Miss Penelope," he says, rolling the bouquet over in his arms.

Ludders blinks. "I will go see with Mrs. Featherington if you will be accepted," he says, allowing Colin in and then he waits at the end of the corridor in front of the door which leads to Featherington's green drawing room.

But the door opened, and he was allowed in, the first face he sought out was Pen's as she sat on the sofa next to her mother, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows and judging eyes. It was obvious it wasn't Pen who allowed him in.

"Mr. Bridgerton, we weren't expecting you," Portia Featherington says, sitting up straight as if she had a wooden ruler stuck down the back of her dress. "Would you like to take a seat next to Lord Debling?"

It should be noted that sat on the other side of his Pen was Prudence, the only other unmarried Featherington lady.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," said Lord Debling, who stared Colin down out of the corner of his eye. That's when Colin remembered Lord Debling, from the night of the Featherington ball, when he was so drunk out of his mind he couldn't tell his left from his right.

"It's my pleasure, Lord Debling," Portia smiled, not taking notice of Colin. It had been well-known that Portia wanted to marry one of her daughters off to one of the Bridgerton sons.

Colin didn't pay attention to anything Portia was saying, as he just kept looking at Penelope, wondering what was going through her head. The sun was shining off her hair, and sometimes in her eyes when it came out from behind a cloud, which would cause her to squint for a moment.

"Penelope, would you stop squinting!" Portia very nearly demanded of her daughter.

"The sun is in my eyes, mama," Penelope said, raising her hand to give her eyes some shade. The sun made the freckles appear like stars on her arms and cheeks.

"Who are your flowers for, Bridgerton?" Asked Anderson, who stared down the sofa at Colin.

For a second, Colin forgot he was holding the lavender roses. He could see Portia motion to Prudence for her to sit up straighter.

But, Colin handed the bouquet over to Penelope, who stares up at him, very surprised.

Lifting her hand to take them, she gave him a small smile which made his heart flutter. "Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," and his heart stopped fluttering.

He got used to her calling him both Colin, and Col on the rare occasion, but it wasn't often she called him Mr. Bridgerton. He didn't like it.

#polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction #penelope x colin #pen x colin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #portia featherington #prudence featherington #harry dankworth #Marcus Anderson #Lord debling

[shionshot]

Roddacember Day3:Animal

After reading Colin's story about the sulphur-crested cockatoo in His Name was Walter, I became quite fond of this unique parrot. I found a SNS account for zoos that have sulphur-crested cockatoo and have been liking it for over a year now whenever a sulphur-crested cockatoo is posted.

However, for Rodacember, when I reread her second book as an author, Pig's Might Fly, last month, I was surprised to notice that the book also features a sulphur-crested cockatoo. Sandy's delightful parrot, Pol, was also a sulphur-crested cockatoo. I hadn't paid any attention to them when I read the book before.

So I looked back at the cover of Teen Power volume 12 to see if it was possible, and here it was again, a bird with a yellow crest and a white body. I was surprised to see that Rodda has been talking about the sulphur-crested cockatoo for over 30 years.

This unique talking parrot only appears in her low fantasy or real-world stories.

But if I think about it, it is highly improbable that a bird could talk. That would be like a pig flying in the sky, wouldn't it?

So if this parrot has a role to play in her stories, isn't it an animal that links the real and imaginary worlds? I thought.

From here on out it's just a blurb from me...

Parrots can have simple conversations with people because they are intelligent. I have had cats and dogs, who, unlike parrots, could not talk, but were clearly happy, angry or sad. I could at least understand if they wanted to eat or go outside by listening to their cries.

So if birds can talk to humans, doesn't they also be able to talk to dogs and cats?

For example, if my cat's intelligence is as high as a parrot's and she can say words other than meow, could we have a conversation?

That's what I think Jasmine means when she says that being able to talk to animals isn't magic.

#roddacember #roddacember 2023 #emily rodda #teen power inc. #pis might fly #deltora quest #shion’s roddacember 2023

[lyrabythelake]

I love your Lost Prince AU so much!! Do you have any snippets to share? :)

Hi Anon! I'm so glad you like my Lost Prince AU!! I'm afraid I haven't had nearly enough time or motivation to write much over the past few months and that AU seems to be fading into the background. I might get back to it one day but I wouldn't get your hopes up. Instead have an extra long snippet from the next chapter of A Dark Horizon that's been sitting in my drafts for a million years. I hope it does a little to make up for it!

He ran his fingers over it curiously to find that it was, in fact, made of real animal fur, and on further inspection a pelt of some kind, not unlike those some Ordonians wore. Usually, they were made from rabbit fur, or, less commonly… from wolf fur. Twilight pulled his hand back suddenly as if struck by static. He recognised it now, could smell it in the air, a scent that should not have been as familiar as it was.  Did someone see him last night? Had they somehow connected the dots? His heart pounded as he ran through what that meant, how the people of his village would hunt down wolves and wear their skins like trophies. He had worked himself into quite a panic before he saw the letter, a small piece of parchment gilded with the royal crest and folded once over. It held merely two short sentences, a piteous number of words considering the embellishments surrounding it. A gift from your brother. Beware the Crystal - Time Twilight’s first thought was relief. The pelt was from King Time, ill-thought out as he believed it was–-was it a joke? It seemed a little insensitive given last night’s harrowing experiences–-it meant there wasn’t some unknown stranger somewhere who knew his secret. His second thought was that Time had called him his ‘brother.’ Realistically he knew it was a fact, a strange one that he still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around, but to have it written on paper, for the king to truly see him in that way to an extent to sign his name as such, a small village rancher who would otherwise had lived and died in Ordon, was still baffling to him. He had never had a big brother and had always taken on that role with Colin and the other children in the village, but the idea of having someone be that for him was not a bad one.  His third thought brought a dry sort of smirk to his face. What would it mean, truly, to wear this pelt in public? It would be a statement in many ways–a statement of fashion, for wolf pelts were most certainly not in line with Hyrule’s eclectic, but distinguished, style; a statement of personality, for to wear this would be truly embracing his agricultural roots and would set himself apart from his brothers in a way the aristocrats of Hyrule wouldn’t be able to deny. Lastly, of course, and it was this thought that brought the smile to his face, it would be blaring last night's events in plain view. To Twilight, and his rather unusual sense of humour, it was an entertaining idea. So it was that he adorned his usual green tunic, the clasps altered to suit his simpler acclimations, and fit the pelt over the top. It was thick and bulky, and there was no denying it would make him noticeable, a prospect he had tried his best to avoid up until this point. It was not often that Twilight look at himself in mirrors; he had never been one to care particularly about the way he looked (something that prompted Ilia to tell him begrudgingly once, “you don’t care because you don’t have to. You manage to look good with your face smeared with goat dung; some of us have to actually try,” to which he blushed fiercely and hastily changed the subject), but he looked at himself now in the large, ornately framed looking-glass on his wall. The pelt gained him a sort of barbarian-esque look, and as he turned to look over his shoulder, he found that he liked it. He had tried so hard thus far to fit in, to mirror Castle Town’s expectations of how a prince ought to look, that he quite fancied this new, powerful, and considerably un-princely, style. Besides, the hood would keep him warm this Winter.

#lost prince au #lyra writes #thanks anon!