#polinween2024w3

[bunnykaye]

Polinween Week 3 - "Things That Go Bump In The Night" ~Besties~ breaking rules of propriety by wandering in the streets at night.. whatever will they find? (Honestly, I'm not sure either lol)

[gleefullypolin]

Ghost Tour of London’s Mayfair

by: GleefullyPolin

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

Oct 13 – Oct 19 Things That Go Bump in the Night

The Bridgerton’s go on the Ghost Tour of London’s Mayfair with Pen as their guide. Colin can’t take his eyes off her when he notices her costume accentuates a certain aspect of her body! And now he can’t stop thinking about it.

[ancoraimparosblog]

Penelope stared at her phone, her vision blurring as she reread Marina’s message for the third time.

Can you plan our wedding, Pen? I can’t imagine anyone else making it more perfect.

The words felt like needles, sharp and digging under her skin, each one a reminder of what she would never have.

"Love is dead," she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely more than a breath. "At least real love is..." She trailed off, the weight of the message sinking into her chest like a stone.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice boomed directly into her ears, making her jump.

"No, Miss Featherington, love isn't dead. It's just haunting you until you say yes!"

Penelope scrambled up from the sofa, her heart hammering in her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, landing on the walls, the bookshelf, even the potted plant in the corner. She inspected every inch, looking for a hidden speaker, a camera—anything that could explain the voice.

"Looks like I’m losing my mind now..." she muttered to herself, sinking back into the cushions, her fingers trembling. "How deep can I fall into depression over Colin?"

Before she could even finish her sentence, the voice quipped again, this time with a teasing edge.

"Deeper than you think, darling."

Penelope jumped to her feet, genuine fear clawing up her throat now. "Who...who is it?" she called out, her voice shaky.

The room was still for a moment, eerily quiet, until a shimmer of light appeared in front of her. Slowly, it grew brighter, the air around it crackling with energy. And then, from the shimmer, a figure emerged—a bride in full wedding attire. Her dress was old-fashioned, but pristine, layers of white fabric cascading down her statuesque figure. Her skin was a deep, rich brown, her curly dark hair framing her face in loose, ethereal waves. And her eyes—huge, dark, and expressive—glimmered with a kind of mischievous beauty that seemed almost too alive for a ghost.

Read more to know what Agatha Danbury's ghost is upto on AO3:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[gleefullypolin]

Maybe this, then, was the definition of love. When you wanted someone, needed her, adored her still, even when you were utterly furious and quite ready to tie her to the bed just to keep her from going out and making more trouble.

~ Romancing Mister Bridgerton