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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 26, 2021 18:54:59 GMT
Bridgerton ◈ Art HI Everyone!! SO I have a side business where I create quote art and chibis of characters from different shows/movies (i.e. The 100, Spartacus, Wynonna Earp, Marvel/DC, Merlin, etc), and print it on merchandise (keychains, mugs, prints, stickers, tote bags, etc) which I sell! I donate the profits to various charities to spread some fandom positivity! I have officially started my Bridgerton line of designs and of course, had to start with one of my faves! I wanted to share it here and will continue to post my designs as I make them!! If you have any fave quotes, feel free to let me know and I will be sure to include it in the design!!! If anyone is interested in checking out my website, click HERE or HERE for my Etsy page!
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 26, 2021 3:06:08 GMT
Siena Rosso Benedict Bridgerton |
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 26, 2021 2:55:23 GMT
I'm not bound by How rare it was, to be able to shift from teasing, to softness, to pleasure . . . and yet, somehow manage to combine all these things together as well. It was not common that Benedict had encountered such a woman; the company of someone who made it just, so easy to be with. He was not one to frequently court a woman, because it was all the same. And he had no intention of marrying just anyone. So to find this ease with someone else was so . . . foreign to the second son.
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And he would take every moment of it for what it was: seemingly perfect. Her soft sounds of pleasure from his actions spurred him on, his hands sliding up her bare thighs, enjoying the softness of her skin. The sensation of her fingers in his air fueling him on as he moaned into her, sending a vibration. He skillfully used his tongue and teeth to caress and tease her inner core, applying pressure to that singular spot within her.
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Taking in her taste and how good it felt to pleasure the woman before him who gave him more than he perhaps even realized. Wanting to spoil her, wanting to give all that he could . . . not quite realizing the depth and extent that this went to. For now, he merely focused on his actions. His intentions were as before, to push her to that euphoric state as many times as her body would allow.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 26, 2021 1:07:07 GMT
I'm not bound by Anthony's remark about Aubrey Hall could only mean one thing . . . that their mother was planning one of her events. The ones where she conveniently invited several families, all with young women and a few families of men so that it maintained -- or attempted to maintain -- some semblance of balance. It was often one of her many attempts to have her sons find a wife.
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Benedict was already thinking of how to get out of that one, for there was no escape from it. Families remained there for the night and the couple days spent was exhausted with dinners, events . . . constant socializing. But, Lewis focused on having grown up there and those memories were indeed bittersweet. His eldest brother did not go to Aubrey Hall as often now and as a family, neither did they. Not as much as they had when their father was alive. "Indeed," he confirmed. "Called Aubrey Hall. It is in Kent," he elaborated.
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"It holds several fond childhood memories, but as we grew older, there was a greater need for us to be in the city." It wasn't entirely untruthful. With his sisters coming of age, and the need for the Bridgerton family to be in the public eye -- unfortunately -- it was best to be in the city around others. His younger siblings had needed that. "But how I do miss hiking," Benedict said with a smile. It had been one of his favourite activities to do -- especially with his father and brother. "And what of yourself, where in the countryside do you enjoy visiting?" He asked, wondering if he had lodgings there or whether he rented to escape the city for a while.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 25, 2021 16:10:19 GMT
I'm not bound by It seemed that despite Benedict's efforts to escape the presence of the two people he was making a conscious attempt to avoid . . . one of them was suddenly there before him. Perhaps he should have left the estate rather than hoped to find a place within it where he would not have make eye contact with them; compromising images too fresh in his mind. But, he did not consider himself a . . . rude person. So nor could he just walk away from the woman.
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He looked at her -- barley -- his eyes unable to meet hers out of the embarrassment of what he had seen . . . and how much he had seen of her. "Miss. Sharma," he returned the greeting, his eyes darting around as if unsure where to look. Anywhere, but at her, or any part of her really. His greeting to her more formal because . . . it felt necessary keep to formality right now. Whatever comfort he felt in her presence stifled by what had just happened.
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And where Benedict was often easy going and quite relaxed -- perhaps to a fault according to some of his family -- right now, he had no idea what to take the conversation as there did not seem to a path to ease in any direction. Which, just resulted in a rather awkward silent of him facing her, but not looking at her, and continuing to wish he had done a better job of avoiding either of them. Had a guest not come to the home, he would have expected Anthony to join them too.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 25, 2021 15:48:22 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict had just arrived home not too long ago to discover that the house was fairly empty for the most part. This was a rarity indeed and something which Benedict took advantage of as he sat in the drawing room, his legs hanging over one of the arm rests of the chair he was seated on and his body positioned to the side. He had his sketchbook in hand and a piece of charcoal, attempting to practice various facial structures. The eyes were an incredibly important part of any portrait but he knew before he could perfect that, he needed to ensure that everything else was well proportioned and placed. Though, he was getting a bit frustrated at his failings in doing so. Noticing from the corner of his eye that the butler had come to the entry of the room, he informed Benedict that Lord Goodwin was here to visit and that if he had seen Lord Bridgerton.
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Benedict closed his book and rose to his feet, having noticed that the door to his study was closed so presumed he was in there, offering to get him. That -- unknowingly to Benedict -- had been his first mistake. Putting his items to the side, Benedict made his way to Anthony's study, giving a light knock in warning that he was entering, assuming he was busy with work. Hardly waiting a moment, Benedict pushed open the door and what he saw . . . was perhaps the last thing he had ever expected to. There was his brother indeed and . . . Kate?! It wasn't seeing the two of them together that shocked him but how they were together.
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Anthony had her pressed against the bookshelf and she was, exposed. And . . . the shock seemed to have put Benedict in the state of a status for he just stared for a moment. His eyes widened not even attempting to hide the surprise, lips parted in further indication of it. He didn't even know what to say or do or . . . "Pardon me," he quickly stated before spinning around and closing the door. He stood on the other side of it for a moment, blinking a few times and trying to get the mental image out of his head. For, many reasons.
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He couldn't be here right now. He couldn't look at either of them right now. His face felt warm from embarrassment over seeing her in such a state -- and his brother for that was certainly something Benedict never wanted to see -- and embarrassment, for the entire situation. Needing to get fresh air or just, out of either of their paths, Benedict rushed to the back door and into the garden, not having stopped walking until he was on the other end of it, deep within it, trying to collect his thoughts were both racing and still at the same time.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 25, 2021 3:46:53 GMT
I'm not bound by She may have told him that he had nothing to be sorry for, and yet . . . he felt as if he did. Any way he contributed to her pain, would prompt apology. And yet, he wanted to also grant her what she asked of him. These two feelings oddly familiar in a far deeper context than merely making her laugh. All he could do was offer a small smile in response, wanting to assure her otherwise, and yet, knew that trying to start a futile debate was the last thing she needed right now. Perhaps under different circumstances, it could lead to the playful and flirtatious teasing they had so easily engaged in. But now . . . things were different. Everything was different.
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Seeing her smile warmed his heart and made this all the harder. The beautiful sight of it reminding him that it was not his to cherish. Perhaps, it never had been. They had no claim on each other yet there had been some level of . . . understanding. A natural progression to their first night and before he even realized it, he had found himself wanting no one other than her. Feeling her touch, her body pressed close to him, her frame fitting so perfectly in his arms . . . why couldn't it just be this easy. To just, be together. It felt right and comfortable and so many other things that Benedict had not often found in another. But the reasons of why they could not -- as Genevieve had pointed out -- had to remain in his mind. Despite how much he wanted to assure her, or convince her otherwise.
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Feeling her nestle against his skin drew a slow breath from him as he remained in position, arm still around her, wrapped around her to keep her close. Hand still holding hers, as he let it rest upon his chest over where his heart beat. And then she thanked him, wanting to tell her that she had nothing to thank him for and yet . . . he wanted her to fall asleep. Not have her mind thinking of reasons that she need thank him based on his protest that she needn't. "You are safe now," he promised. Physically. Emotionally. She was safe in his arms. And that -- he knew -- was all he could assure her of now.
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"You're safe," he repeated in a whisper, wanting to continue to offer these reassurances. Wanting to continue to give her a sense of ease should they be the last words she hear before she falls into a slumber. Should the medicine go into effect, or exhaustion from the entire ordeal. He would wait, to see what she needed of him. He knew that telling stories sometimes helped distract ones mind when they were suffering or unable to find sleep and should she be in that state, he would offer it. But right now . . . he gave soft assurances that no further harm would come to her. That he would let no further harm come to her.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 22, 2021 23:56:56 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict was rather frustrated in his futile attempts to find this . . . mysterious woman from the ball. It had not been long, but surely, it should not be this difficult to find someone. The only clue he had had also not proved to be the slightest bit helpful. His attendance in social gatherings -- or rather, his eagerness to go -- was solely for the fact, the hope, of uncovering the identity of her. But, it had been to no avail. He was starting to feel less and less hopeful . . . each event proving to be a disappointment and there was only so much disappointment he could bare before he was certain he would crumble. His mother was even trying for him -- subtle as she was -- for it had been the first time he'd expressed any interest, in any woman.
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It was in part -- perhaps largely so -- his willingness to come to a daytime picnic. The weather was quite agreeable and so many from the ton were in attendance. Benedict wanted to start his rounds right away; wanting to search for her, if she would even be here. Would he even recognized her? The fear had crossed his mind but he had to trust his heart. Surely, he would. As he rose from where his family had set up, he told his mother that he would be taking a walk. She seemed to understand so did not overly question it. Nodding, he proceeded to move along the path . . . another family not far and one that caused Benedict to pause. Mostly, out of guilt. After recent realization of her affections -- love -- that she held for his brother, and the fact that he had perhaps embarrassed her at the masquerade, Benedict's conscience tugged at him to properly apologize to her.
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Mostly for the latter rather than the former. The former, he was still trying to understand. Trying to determine what -- if anything -- he could do with this revelation. One that remained silent for he had not brought anyone's attention to it. Not even Colin's. It hardly seemed fair to Penelope. Fair. That was something that Benedict knew he too had not been. So it was perhaps the one thing -- the only thing -- that could cause him to digress from his determination and stubbornness to find the masked woman. Penelope Featherington deserved better than how he had treated her. Approaching the Featherington family, Benedict smiled in greeting before walking towards Penelope, making it clear who he was talking to.
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"Miss. Featherington, I was wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for a stroll?" Yes. He indeed had to apologize for it. His mother surely raised him better than that. Besides, with news now of the woman he was searching for, it seemed to open Benedict up to eager mothers attentions as well as their daughters with the apparent understanding that he was ready for marriage. That he had somehow declared his intentions. Nothing, could be further from the truth. So spending this time with Penelope, would be far better time spent than avoiding their advances and futile conversations, though of course . . . it was not his primary reason for going to her.
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the rules of society.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 21, 2021 21:18:20 GMT
 LADY Whistledown LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS: 5 June; 1815 The COSTUME PREDICTIONS!
-----This Author waits with bated breath to see what costumes the ton will choose for the Bridgerton masquerade. It is rumored that Eloise Bridgerton plans to dress as Joan of Art; an Penelope Featherington, out for her third season and recently returned from a visit with Irish cousins, will don the costume of a leprechaun. Miss Posy Reiling, stepdaughter to the late Earl of Penwood, plans a costume of mermaid, which This Author personally cannot wait to behold, but her elder sister, Miss Rosamund Reiling, has been very close-lipped about her own attire.
-----As for the men, if previous masquerade balls are any indication, the portly will dress as Henry VIII, the more fit as Alexander the Great or perhaps the devil, and the bored (the eligible Bridgerton brothers sure to be among these ranks) as themselves -- basic black evening kit, with only a demi-mask as a nod to the occasion.
AN OFFER FROM A GENTLEMAN; Julia Quinn
Chapter 3, Page 47 [googlefont=Anton][googlefont="Playfair Display:700i";][googlefont=Roboto] |
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 21, 2021 21:07:53 GMT
I'm not bound by Oh her laughter was maddening. It only further agitated the second son, seeing her there so amusement as she burst into laughter, while he remained, attacked and . . . unsatisfied. One day -- he hadn't the slightest idea how -- but one day, he would get back at her for this. Somehow. In some way. Clearly unamused, his eyes narrowed on her as she continued to laugh and laugh and part of him just wanted to grab her arm and push her out of his room. The other part of him -- the more dominating one -- knew that he could not.
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"Are you quite finished?" He asked sarcastically, knowing that his . . . state was starting to calm. At least physical indication of it. Emotionally, she had him riled up in an entirely different way. Irritated and lacking any sort of amusement . . . unlike her. Clearly. "If it is sense to barge into one's room without legitimate cause--" For his did not constitute a mysterious sound to count as such. "--Then I question your definition of sense." As if it could not get any worse . . . she had taken notice of his trousers, now directly asking him what he was doing. This, was not so easily answered. He knew he was not the best liar and his behaviour upon her entry prevented him from being able to offer a rather simplistic response.
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On the other hand . . . there was no way in hell he was about to corrupt his sister by explaining the desires of men. That, was never topic he would ever wish to broach with any of his sisters. Eloise asking about the creation of babies was bad enough. Realizing he had just fallen silent for a few moments, his mind tried to come up with a suitable explanation . . . or attempt to divert the subject completely.
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"Nothing that you need know about." Perhaps, the most juvenile and ambiguous statement he could have come up with . . . but alas, it was what came out. "Even in all your sense." The last word dripping with sarcasm as he launched the pillow he'd been holding straight at Daphne, his arousal having seemed to subsided. "Why are you even up this late?" Surely, he could change the subject around, though he did not even attempt concern. "Is something troubling you? Other than your apparent concern for my well being," he said, a bit of taunting in his voice and . . . perhaps more sarcasm.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 21, 2021 20:54:32 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict's smile remained when she suggested coming in here more often. "You will find no objections from me," he assured her. He knew that it may not be the most . . . entertaining time for her, watching him paint. Yet, her presence was a constant comfort. And further inspired him throughout his artistic endeavours. Having her near was always better than being apart. Speaking of comfort . . . he basked in her attentions, her fingers running through his hear in the most soothing manner, her hand upon his back, her soft lips on his skin. He was almost of a mind to abandon the portrait completely and just focus on her and only her. Which . . . he knew it would not take much longer to do. The newlywed bliss would never seem to diminish between them, and Benedict truly wouldn't have it any other way.
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He felt a strong sense of pride seeing the colour touch her cheeks, knowing that he could still flatter her to such an extent. That he could still cause her to blush -- not only from his actions, but his words too. And that pride and honor only caused his heart to further swell as she referred to him as being the best artist. "You flatter beyond truth," he told her teasingly, his lips lightly kissing the corner of her mouth. Silent appreciation for her kind words. Ones he would never take for granted indeed. His eyes moved to hers, watching her look over the painting, analyze it and when she finally spoke . . . Benedict felt a wave of relief wash over him. He knew Sophie was truthful; that she had never withhold the truth from him to spare his feelings.
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She was upfront; it was one of the many -- many -- things he loved about her. His arms wrapped her a little tighter to keep her close, feeling the burden of uncertainty ease as she further spoke praising words of the portrait. "They do say the eyes are the window to one's soul," he commented, so glad that he had achieved the depth of the gaze. Depth was often something he had struggled with in his early years of artistry. And that, was where the essence of the person was to be most captured. "I do hope you are right," he continued to speak, referring to her certainty that Lady Colborne would like it. "For we have been invited to the event." It added an extra level of pressure to know that he would be there firsthand to see her reaction.
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"We will be able to witness firsthand whether she shares your views on this piece." With Sophie standing at his side, he knew he would be able to handle any, unfavorable reaction from the Lady or Lord. Pulling his gaze from the picture and onto something far more desirable -- her -- his eyes gleamed with continued pride and flattery. "Second favourite," he both repeated and questioned. "And what would be your first?" He asked, unable to contain the question as he leaned forward, placing a light kiss on her cheek, moving down to her jawline, and then another right under it.
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the rules of society.
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Please do not tell mother."
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 20, 2021 0:53:14 GMT
LADY Whistledown LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS: 2 June; 1815 The Bridgerton Alphabet!
BEST THEY STOPPED AT EIGHT
-----The Bridgertons are truly a unique family. Surely there cannot be anyone in London who does not know that they all look remarkably alike, or that they are famously named in alphabetical order: Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth.
-----It does make one wonder what the late viscount and (still very-much alive) dowager viscountess would have named their next child had their offspring numbered nine. Imogen? Inigo?
-----Perhaps it is best they stopped at eight.
AN OFFER FROM A GENTLEMAN; Julia Quinn
Chapter 2, Page 30 [googlefont=Anton][googlefont="Playfair Display:700i";][googlefont=Roboto] |
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 19, 2021 20:42:34 GMT
I'm not bound by Taking another sip of his drink, he listened as Lewis explained his reasons for remaining in town. It seems that the man did not have family -- blood or otherwise -- that kept him here. Or, if he did, he was not comfortable in saying. Benedict however could certainly understand the appeals that the countryside held. It was a wonderful place to escape from all the ton and just be in ones own thoughts. Their visits to Aubrey Hall had decreased significantly since the passing of their father, so Benedict had purchased his own cottage to allow him the chance to visit when desired.
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Time spent there however, was drastically deceased during the London season as his presence with family was required. Not that he minded of course. There was only so much solitude one could take after being around seven other siblings their entire life. "I too am partial to the countryside," he revealed. "But yes, I imagine it does not serve as fruitful where your work is concerned compared to the city." Work, family . . . marriage prospects, whatever brought one to the city, often kept them here for however long required.
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 19, 2021 20:29:22 GMT
LADY Whistledown LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS: 31 May; 1815 THE MASQUERADE BALL!
TWO ELIGIBLE BRIDGERTON BACHELORS
-----This year's most sought-after invitation must surely be that of the Bridgerton masquerade ball, to be held Monday next. Indeed, one cannot take two steps without being forced to listen to some society mama speculating on who will attend, and perhaps more importantly, who will wear what.
-----Neither of the aforementioned topics, however, are nearly as interesting as that of the two unmarried Bridgerton brothers, Benedict and Colin. (Before anyone points out that there is a third unmarried Bridgerton brother, let This Author assure you that she is fully aware of the existence of Gregory Bridgerton. He is, however, fourteen years of age, and therefore not pertinent to this particular column, which concerns, as This Author's columns often do, that most sacred of sports: husband-hunting).
-----Although the Misters Bridgertons are, just that -- merely Misters -- they are still considered two of the prime catches of the season. It is a well-known fact that both are possessed of respectable fortunes, and it does not require perfect sight to know that they also possess, as do all eight of the Bridgerton offspring, the Bridgerton good looks.
-----Will some fortunate young lady use the mystery of a masquerade night to snare one of the eligible bachelors?
-----This Author isn't even going to attempt to speculate.
AN OFFER FROM A GENTLEMAN; Julia Quinn
Chapter 1, Page 15 [googlefont=Anton][googlefont="Playfair Display:700i";][googlefont=Roboto] |
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 18, 2021 2:44:12 GMT
I'm not bound by She asked him why he was thanking her and it only made his heart swell with more emotion, and reinforce his gratitude. His faith in her, that she would understand. And where the others would perhaps need some convincing . . . he and Eloise held a similar mindset. She was happy for him. Truly happy for him, and he knew he would use this moment, her reaction to keep his faith that there was hope for the rest of his family to feel the same. If not immediately, then eventually.
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"Because . . . I do not know what I would do without you." The words were true, and held more magnitude than a response to thanking him. He might tease his dear sister mercilessly but at the end of the day, she was one of the most important people in his life . . . and even if she was indeed younger, her approval meant everything to him. For he knew, that if Eloise did not approve of this match, then he would have lost hope that anyone else would. As Eloise spoke of the Ton, and their thoughts about this union, Benedict slowly nodded. "I imagine it will not be without judgement." Which was why he was hoping he could escape it and live with Sophie in his country home . . . away from all the madness that would ensue. His smile remained though, hearing Eloise speak of how she had excitement for it, the kind of match it was . . . for her favourite brother, for love.
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"Would that everyone thought like you, El," he told her sincerely. He usually teased her for the way she was, but he adored her. And would not change a single thing about her: she was truly perfect the way she was. "But I care little for the Ton's approval. Yours is far more important to me." He knew others may say it was selfish, for he had a certain standard to maintain for the sake of his sisters . . . but he knew that if he did not marry Sophie, then he would marry no other. For he would love no one else the way he loved her. Hearing his sister continue to reassure him, meant the world to him. Giving him the confidence that this, his marriage to Sophie and their family's approval was not an impossibility. For he knew that Eloise would not give him false hope. "You are truly amazing, Eloise," he told her, unable to contain the compliments for his sister today.
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"It is all I long for. That our family welcome her, and that she is happy." Benedict never wanted to choose between the two, and even if it was too idealistic to believe that he could have both . . . it was certainly worth fighting for. Benedict smiled with amusement when she spoke of wanting to meet Sophie, and that she required her blessing. "I should hope to introduce you soon. But, as I have not announced this to anyone else, I would ask it remain between us. I told Sophie you would be the first I would tell . . . and that should all go well, you be the first she would meet." It was best Sophie meet someone that Benedict knew -- especially now -- would be happy for them.
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"We want to marry as soon as possible." There was no sense in dragging it out. His desire to be with her -- in every sense of the word -- leaving him impatient. "But it depends on how long it will take to acquire our family's blessing. I do not wish to marry without it." He did not want to cause a rift nor bring Sophie into a family where she was not welcome nor accepting. She had already had to endure that in her past, and he would not subject her to it within his own. "You may ask all you desire when you meet her." He paused in thought for a moment, knowing that Eloise often had many questions. "Well, perhaps not all you desire," he added on teasingly.
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the rules of society.
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