#eloise x theo fanfiction

[thetypingsiren]

Chapters: 2/10 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Theo Sharpe, Edmund Bridgerton/Violet Bridgerton Characters: Eloise Bridgerton, Theo Sharpe, Violet Bridgerton, Edmund Bridgerton II, Philip Crane Additional Tags: mermaid au, Alternate Universe - Victorian, victorian au, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Edmund Bridgerton Lives, Mermaid Theo Sharpe, Eloise just wants freedom!, and Theo can give her that!, i’m having a mermaid hyperfixation and came up with this, Each chapter is a song title!! Chapter Summary:

Eloise can’t help but continue to think about the strange man she saw at the beach, and comes up short when attempting to research him. Just when she gives up hope, a conversation with a certain brother, and a dinner party next to a potential suitor changes things.

[captainsophiestark]

Bad Timing

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 25 Prompt: "Do I look like I knew that?"

Summary: When Eloise needs help with a problem, she knows she can count on her brother and his new wife for help.

Word Count: 1,047

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You know, lazy days like this are by far my favorite," I mused, curling into my husband's side as we laid in bed together. "No galas, no gossip from the Ton. Just the two of us."

"I certainly have to agree," said Benedict, my husband, as he traced patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Although, I do enjoy watching Colin wade through the swarm of Mamas every time we go out, now that he is the only unwed Bridgerton son. At least until Gregory gets a bit older."

"I'd say you were being mean, but he did ditch you and Anthony for quite a while in his travels."

"Yes, he did. So he deserves this."

I laughed, shaking my head a bit at my husband's antics. A moment later, he pulled me tighter to his side, rolling us so I laid completely on top of his chest. I rose up on my elbows to meet his eyes and found him looking at me with a mischevious smile.

"You know, it's just occurred to me," he started. "There are quite a few ways I can think of that our time would be better spent than talking about my brother."

"Oh really?" I asked, grinning and leaning down closer to Benedict. "And what might those ideas be?"

"Well for starters..."

With that, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me into a searing kiss. I rested all my weight on him, kissing right back, until a knock at the door jarred us both out of the moment.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, and Benedict let me. We shared a look.

"Maybe whoever it is will go away if we ignore them," he whispered in suggestion. As if he'd willed it into happening, a voice from the other side of the door called out.

"Y/N! If you're in there, please, I need to talk to you."

Eloise. Benedict's little sister, who I'd become close with throughout the course of Benedict courting me. I gave Benedict an apologetic look.

"No," he whined as I rolled off of him, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and heading for the door.

"I have to," I replied. "I can't ignore her. Make yourself decent."

With that, I turned from my husband and went to open the door just wide enough to see Eloise on the other side, and for her to see me.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she cried, moving to push past me and into the room. I let her, just hoping that Benedict had done as I'd said. Eloise and I had done this a few times as we'd gotten closer, and whenever it happened, I knew she really, truly needed me.

I turned around to follow Eloise back into the room after shutting the door behind me, only to find her frozen just a few steps from where she'd come in. Benedict stood next to the bed, looking tired but resigned to our new morning activity as he laced up his shirt.

"Good morning, Eloise," he said, a little edge of teasing in his tone. "You know, I was trying to enjoy the morning with my wife-"

"Do I look like I knew that?" she cried. I fought back a laugh as I walked forward to wrap my arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Eloise," I said. "Benedict and I were about to get up for the morning, anyway."

Benedict shot me a look with his eyebrows almost into his hairline, and I glared right back, imploring him to go along with me. He cleared his throat.

"Right. That we were. What did you need help with, sister?"

She hesitated, so I walked around to face her, putting both of my hands on her shoulders and blocking her eyeline to Benedict. I gave her a small smile, so she'd know everything was alright, then spoke in a low voice that I knew Benedict wouldn't be able to hear.

"If this is a ladies' problem, or one you don't want your brother to know about, El, I'll throw him out of here right now and we can talk, alright? But if you're embarrassed about knocking when you did, then you truly don't need to be. We love you, and we'd both drop far more important things to help you whenever you need it."

Eloise sighed, nodding a little as she did. The bright red blush that had risen to her cheeks started to fade, and she at last met my eyes again.

"Thank you. I... suppose it wouldn't hurt to have Benedict's input as well," she said. I nodded, giving her a bright smile before turning around to face my husband.

"Put your problem-solving hat on, Benedict," I said. I started drifting for the couches by Benedict's turret window, one of my favorite features of his room. "We've got a family matter to deal with."

They both beamed at me as they started following me over to the couch. I'd considered a few of Benedict's siblings as good as family for a long time now, but it felt amazing to be able to say that and have it be completely true.

Benedict and Eloise settled into the couch on either side of me, Benedict resting his arm across my shoulders. Those kinds of casual touches would've been scandalous before we were married, but now we could do them whenever we wanted to, which also made my heart sing.

Eloise gave us both one last look with a raised eyebrow, then launched into her explanation of the problem that had brought her to our doorstep, which had something to do with a boy of virtually no social status who'd caught her attention. Benedict and I spent the rest of the morning, helping her as best we could, in the way only we could.

Although I hated that Eloise had to deal with the problems she dealt with, a small part of me sang the entire morning as Benedict and I worked together, the perfect team, to help his little sister. This was going to be the rest of our lives, with Eloise and maybe someday with children of our own, and I couldn't be happier thinking about that future with Benedict. We made the perfect team.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[allthornsnopetals]

Fire on Fire E.Bridgerton

With this much desire, together we're winners They say were out of control, and some say we're sinners But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms

A/n: This was requested from an anon, long ago. Sorry for the wait.

Warning: Lady Violet x OC mother of reader (their gay, for each other), not proof-read

This is wrong, all of this is wrong!

Y/n's thoughts roar, her eyes glued to the ceiling, bare in the sheets of the woman she loves most: Eloise Bridgerton. Another day, another night. Her heart ached for her, her air being her, whom she should not have.

This is wrong!

Eloise had her heart long before she even knew it, before her first kiss with a noblemen's son, out of curiosity. It were as if, it were made for her, made for a woman and not a man. Y/n stiffs a sob, clasping a hand over her lips, as to not wake Eloise. This was wrong and she knew it. If she were to live like this, she would bring great shame to her family. But if she did not, her heart would be in great pain.

But she had made up her mind. She would wed and bring great pride to her dynasty.

"I am so sorry, Ellie." Said Y/n, trailing from her sheets, dressing herself and departing without a final goodbye or kiss to her beloved's head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Mama, did Y/n decide to have breakfast with her own family, this morning?" Eloise asks, entering the drawing room.

Violet draws her attention to her daughter, thinking and forgetting her tea. "No, my dear. She had left during the night. She seemed rather upset... Eloise, did you do something to upset miss Y/n?" Her eyes hardens with her lips drawn into a thin line, interrogating her daughter.

Eloise huffs exasperatedly, slumping on the couch opposite her. "No, mama, I have done nothing to upset her." She says, opening her book and beginning the first page with her mind occupied with her love, hoping she had not done anything to upset her.

Her mother, cocks a brow, skeptical like always, but letting her curiosity lay to rest. "It is to be calling hour in just a few moments, eat and do try. I want you to try." Violet ignores Eloise's groan of annoyance, returning to her tea and breakfast.

"If Y/n can stand calling hour, than so can you."

I already have someone to call on to, and it is not a Lord or noble.

Eloise thinks, allowing herself to smile, missing the scent of her better half. Once calling hour is over, she is to pay her a visit and perhaps visit the library and enjoy a picnic in the park. Her love is never bored of food or books, she is rather the eater and could never stop herself from indulging in what she fancies. Eloise had learned the hard way, many times.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Miss Eloise, what brings you here at such a time?" Said Maria, Y/n's mother: Lady Clearwater.

Usually a footman answers the door or even Y/n, but something important must be taking place for the lady of the house to be answering her own door. Eloise tilts her head, her brows drawn in confusion. "Lady Clearwater, I am here to spend my afternoon with Miss Y/n. Is she in?" She asks, trying to peek through the rather small opening.

Maria cages the door to her body, closing any opportunity for her to peek. "I am afraid to inform you that, Y/n cannot join you at the moment. She is sitting with a Suitor, something that you are unfamiliar with." Her tone was bitter and sour, like always. But it was always sweet for her daughter, and not for Elosie, someone she loathes.

Eloise knew it but she did not care much, after all her daughter loves her and she loves her daughter. "But calling hour is but over, Lady Clearwater." Said Eloise, sounding confused and lost.

Why, would Y/n be sitting with Suitors. She never sits with them, never.

"Well, she had many calls today. Y/n is simply unable to join you, perhaps your plump friend, Miss Penelope can accompany you today. And not my daughter, whom I have informed you to stay clear from, many times before. Now, never darken my door step with your stubborn presence again." She slams the door in her face, leaving Eloise stunned and confused. Had she done something to upset her beloved, Y/n?

No, matter. She will unmask the true intentions, regardless of the events in front and ahead. She will make things right.

Or, so she thought.

Eloise has sent letter, after letter. In each letter, she wrote of apologies, love and the longing her heart yearns for with the absence of her Y/n. At this point she is breaking, missing the girl who smelt of raspberries and limes. Who saturated her days and nights. Her dreams, stained with her face, with her love.

What did I do wrong? Did I finally say something, I should have kept to myself?

Does she not love me?

Eloise wept into her hands, hunched over her desk, staining her gloves with tears.

"Eloise are you read-." Violet pauses at the door, gasping and gliding to her daughter's side. "My darling, girl, what is the matter?" She embraces her, guiding her out of her chair and to her bed.

Eloise shook her head, seeking comfort in her mother's chest. "It seems I have upset Y/n. She hasn't spoken to me since late last week." She hiccups, rendering her voice weak and frail. "I went to visit her during and after calling hour, but her mama, a terrible woman, refuses to let me see her." Violet's nose screws up at the thought of Y/n's mother, who was in fact a nasty woman and close friends with Lady Cowper—both nasty and cruel.

She rubs comforting circles on her back, trying to sooth her. "I miss her, mama. I want her near, not far. I want her as one needs air... I want her back." Eloise sniffles, suffocating in her mother's bosom.

"She will come back to you and do not worry about her horrid mother, I will settle her dismay." Violet reassures her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n danced with yet another Suitor, feeling rather sick of this and the stench of his man stink. He smelt unpleasant and musky, something she was not used to. She was used to the scent of lavender and tulips, which reminded her of Eloise, who watched on the side lines, itching for an opportunity to speak with her. Y/n noticed, so she dragged out the dance, making a show of false intentions, waiting for someone to steal Eloise away or waddle off in search of Penelope.

She did not want to see or speak to her. She wanted her to be less stubborn, leave her be and see what she is clearly doing.

"Lady Clearwater." Said Violet, watching Y/n dance while her daughter stood watching, clearly yearning for a moment with her. "Oh, Lady Bridgertion, how are you on this fine evening?" She returns her greetings with a ruse of a smile, offering her a slight bow.

"Good, but it seems my Eloise is having a rather poor time at the moment." She watches Lady Clearwater and her smirk, clearly caring very little. "Well, that is to be expected without a Suitor or company. Is she to be called on soon or-."

"Don't disrespect my daughter. You and your nasty comments can be kept to yourself and your nasty crony friends. You have no right to speak about my daughter behind her back or make her feel less then. She has every right to see her friend, for they have been glued to the hip before Edmund's passing." Violet takes a breather, pointing her finger in her face, making sure her voice is low enough for only them to hear.

"Your daughter has saved my Eloise. Saved her from herself, from her anger, from her distaste for society and especially her bad luck with her debut. And as for your daughter, you do not deserve her. You don't deserve her kindness or her intellect. She is my girl's sun and she is her moon. They will not part, simply because you do not-."

Maria grabs Violet, dragging her to an empty room, making sure they were not spotted or followed. She pushes her in, shutting the door behind her. "How dare you, pull me along without my con-."

"Be quiet, Violet!" Said Maria, hushing the other woman.

Maria breathes through her nose, calming herself. "Your daughter and my daughter are... They are..." She stutters, finding it difficult to manage the right words.

"They are what?" Violet says, clearly impatient, growing tired of her used to be a friend's antics.

"They are going through what we went through." Violet's brows knit together, trying to understand what Maria is implying. Maria huffs in annoyance, irritated by her slow brain. "Our daughters are seeing each other behind our backs, as we did before our husbands." Maria finally explains, waiting for Violet to finally understand.

Violet's mouth falls open with her eyes blown in understanding and shock. "They are romantically involved with each other?" Said Violet, pacing the room, consumed in thought and worry.

Maria taps her foot, impatient and irradiated. "You did not see it?" Maria cocks a brow, still so arrogant and short-tempered as she was when she were but a young lady without title. Violet glares at her, stocking towards her with hell in her eyes. "You did not inform me!" She points her finger accusingly to her.

Maria scoffs. "You did not speak to me after my marriage to Lord Clearwater. Please enlighten me with an explanation of how I was to inform you."

Violet deflates, recalling her past and her decision to ignore and vow to never speak to Maria again. "Right." Said Violet, backing away and fiddling with her fingers, embarrassed and feeling rather foolish.

"They gaze, only at each other... As if it were only them. My Y/n, seeks your Eloise, as if she were the moon and the stars." Maria chuckles faintly, staring at her feet with a small smile. "I am beginning to think, that queer traits are genetics." The ladies make eye-contact, acknowledging the other for the first time in many years.

Silence fell, like sheets cascading over a mattress. They both wet their lips, a shared trait of awkwardness and loss of words. It was as it should be for the ladies of separate dynasties. One found a love match after the shatter of her lover's heart, while the other found a political match, that had its romance in its own way.

They were both aware of the cracks, scars and bruises their love had left. The rumors, the dent their families received and the long lasting yearning for the company- the love, that only they found with each other.

"It was, rather painful, Mia. Having you marry another, while I watched... It left a mark, that not even Edmund could wipe away." Violet muttered, her lip beginning to quiver. "I had wished it were a bad dream or a mistake when I heard you were with child. I wanted to believe that you'll come back. Come back to me and tell me it were all but a cruel joke, a prank, perhaps a misunderstanding." Violet croaked, straying her gaze to the floor.

Maria cups her cheeks, wiping away her tears with the pads of her thumbs, shushing her. "I am truly sorry for the hell I dragged you through, but Vi you knew the cost, th-"

Violet silenced her with a kiss, dragging her close by the waist, wanting her to shut up and fill the void Maria had left. Maria pulls back enough for air. "Vi, what on earth are-." Violet backs them both into the wall, finding her lips again, and only parting to speak.

"We can't do this to our girls. What we had, left a wound on my heart. I don't have the strength to put my daughter through the exact pain I went through, and I am sure you can't do such a thing to your darling daughter, can you Mia?" Violet pants, gazing at her lips, silently begging her to reconsider her thoughts.

At the sight of her old love, her heart wallowed. How could she have let her slip through her fingers? How could her heart move so quickly and swiftly? Has it always been for her? She shook her head, pecking Violet on the lips, testing the waters, and feeling the sparks she had assumed belonged to another, calling for a show of fireworks and dazzling colors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Maria took her daughter's arm, dragging her to the nearest exit. "Rest, stroll, take this time to breathe and enjoy the cool of the evening." She lures, ushering her to walk the gardens. "But mama, I am to fill my dance card, sir phi-."

Maria raised her head, hushing Y/n as she spots Violet prompting her daughter to do the same. "Nonsense, this night has been quite filling. Now go, enjoy some peace alone." She grinned, swatting at her to leave.

Y/n allowed her shoulders to relax, weakening her posture with a thankful smile. "Thank you mama, I will return before the night is to end." She props a kiss to her cheek before waddling off.

She strolls mindlessly, before coming to a stop at the lake side, observing it and its endless solitude. Her mind has been in shambles and glass, since her departure from the Bridgerton house. She missed her lady of lavender and tulips. She misses the way her skin felt against her own, the sound of her laugh, and the intricate works of her mind. She wanted her girl back. She wanted to be near her, that is, if it so weren't wrong.

She needed to clear her mind. Needed her heart to stop pulling, stop squeezing the life from her being when Eloise polluted her mind. She wanted everything to stop, to pause and give her peace.

Y/n coughed, using the pebble path as a place of rest, sitting and cradling her legs to her chest. She released a tired sob with her head deep in her knees.

Go, away Eloise! Leave my mind and let me rest!

But Eloise did not want to. Her steps quicken at the sight of Y/n, running to her, wanting to be near her. "Y/n, what is the matter?" She slid beside her, and without thought, pulled her into her arms.

Once she realized who it was, Y/n was pulling away, shoving Eloise away. "You are what is the matter. You cannot leave me be!" Said Y/n scooting away, and finding her feet.

Hurt crossed Eloise's face, feeling as if she was stabbed or shot by the one she loves. "I do not know of what you speak? Am I the matter? I do not understand... Have I done something to offend you, or hurt you?" Her usual confidence and stature has gone, stripped from her within just a moment.

At the sight of light losing its life in her sapphire eyes, Y/n's heart winched, with her throat running dry. She wanted to avoid this. Avoid the pain of ripping off the band aid, the prick of thread and needle, stitching a wound or the pour of alcohol on an open gash. It felt like lava, washing over her, like rain, drenching her and even drowning her. It gave something in her, something rather sore, perhaps raw.

"Do not speak to me Eloise. You are the problem." Y/n swallows dryly, walking backwards. "If we are seen here alone, we are to be dragged through the mud, the dirt, the very gutters of lower London!" She inhaled harshly, glaring pained daggers at the woman she loves, and pausing in her steps.

"They speak and you ignore their whispers... Their nasty comments. Do you know of the tons thoughts. How they believe us as sinners. Women bedding the devil!" She exclaims, fiddling with her gloves.

Eloise rolls her eyes, amusing herself with an empty laugh. "I do not care for what the ton has to say. These men and women are just-."

"But I do! I care!" She drives forward, pointing her finger at Eloise. "But you do not! You skip around with your skirts above your ankles, living a life of sparkles and ponies." She spat, shoving her finger into Eloise's chest, accusingly. "You care very little about others, and that is what the problem is." She scoffed, backing away, shocked and irritated.

"I care very little? You left my letters unread and unanswered. You left me alone, hurt and you hurt me more, now! You stabbed me! Marked me!" Said Eloise, grabbing hold of Y/n's hand and holding it against her chest.

"You branded my heart. You, Y/n Clearwater strangle my heart and make it bleed. You feed it blood cells and provide it with chambers to feed the body. You have something, that I cannot afford to give away, simply because of silly gossip. And I will not let you walk away with it." She pleaded with her, begged her with nothing but desperation in her words and eyes.

"Do not let me bleed."

But Y/n was not her mother. She will not be so easily swayed, not like this. "Lord Philips has asked for my hand and I have accepted." Said Y/n, drawing back her hand, walking back to the ball.

"But do you love him!" Eloise yells, following Y/n and yanking her back. Y/n frees herself with Eloise quickly snatching her by her forearms, forcing her in place.

"Do you love him. Say it and I'll leave you alone."

"And what if I said, I did not? What would you do then? Cage me? Keep me hostage?"

Eloise, now grinned. "Perhaps I should cage you, like a song bird. Keeping you from society, forcing you to stay with me." She jokes, drawing her closer until her arms were encased around her shoulders, trapping her in, keeping her from running away, basically hugging her. Y/n laughs, finding her lips curling into a smile of her own.

Eloise always had a way to make her laugh or feel anything but anger or sadness in heated situations like this. They could argue for five to ten minutes until Eloise said something witty, clever or comical. Eloise would never end an argument with tears or brewing anger. She is too hopelessly in love for that to happen.

"I do not sing." She perched herself on Eloise's shoulder, gazing at her with an easier tone and lacy smile. She laughed, cupping Y/n's cheek, rolling her thumb over the smooth skin. "Perhaps not very well. But that can be fixed with the candles turned down and an empty house." Eloise winks suggestively, rewarding her with a pinch to the side. "Dirty Bridgerton." Y/n pokes, soothing the spot with the pad of thumb.

The pair relish in the solace of the arms of their lovers, relieved to have the other back in their respective positions. "My love, don't let the whispers of the ton ruin us. They know nothing, of our love. Nothing about what it means to yearn for someone, quite like we do." Eloise pressed her forehead against hers, content on keeping her near.

She drew her voice to a whisper. "Do you love me, miss Clearwater?" She finally asked, waiting with steeled breath.

"Yes, stubborn Bridgerton, I do love you. How can I not when you make me a fool for thinking to wed another."

[theregencywriter]

Lost in Silence 1 - Theo Sharpe x Reader

A/n - Okay so I'm obviously rewatching Bridgerton (are we surprised???) and I realised there's really no fics of Theo???? I mean of course there are but not many and I feel like he's underrated so I needed to put this out there! Still not completely sure which direction to take this in so pls message or comment if you have literally any ideas but uh, yeah! Hope you enjoy <3

The air was thick with tension. Y/n’s mother paced back and forth whilst her daughter Y/n, only ten, sat watching. The cobbled streets of London were cold and unforgiving but with no more room available in the room they were forced to wait outside. Hours passed before the doctor came out, his already stained robes marred with a fresh tint of crimson blood. He romoved a glove and placed his hand onto her Mothers arm as he spoke. “The bleeding was too much. There was nothing we could do and yet we still exhausted all options. I’m sorry.”

And then began a shriek from her mouth that young Y/n could swear rattled the nearby windows, as she shrank to the floor. It was odd, Y/n would recall years later, she never believed her mother to be truly extraordinary, and yet seeing her reduced to a blubbering mess on the floor was an unbearable sight. Y/n took off, her feet taking her as if by their own volition, running down twisted streets until she was pounding on a door.

“Y/n?” Theo asked, puzzled and tired as he opened his front door. He looked at his friend, and before she replied he was holding her in a deep embrace. Though he was only two years older than her he was naturally protective of her like no one ever had been. “He’s, he’s, oh my god!” It was as if by saying out loud for the first time it would become real, concrete and solid. “He’s what? Who’s what? Y/n please” Theo begged, his already panicked face deepening with worry. “Father!Oh Father, he was stabbed by a highwayman on his way back from the countryside! He’s gone!” Theo pulled her in closer. He had known that Y/n’s father, a coworker of his own at the butchers, was going out of London to look for work elsewhere. He also knew how worried Y/n was, and heard from his father that she was seen pleading with her own for him not to go, out of fear of a robbery.

Theo held her for a while until her mother came looking, and when he looked at her though mere hours had passed the once vibrant face of Y/n’s mother was sunken and worn. Before Y/n left with her, Theo gave her a vibrant blue notebook. “For company, when I myself am not there.” He smiled, only faintly as she left.

—

Y/n fidgeted with her bow. “Is it not too garish? I thought so all night” She asked. “Nonsense Miss Y/n, it is beautiful” Her maid replied as she helped fix it into her updo. In the years that passed since her fathers death her mother had remarried to a Lord Reginald Harrington, his wealth only matched by his cruelty. They had one child together other than Y/n, an Arrabella Harrington, now nearing twelve. Her birth was scandalously close to their wedding, yet she seemed to finally snap her mother out of the haze she had been in. To say having Arrabella had saved her would be a stretch, Y/n often lay awake at night worrying what could’ve happened had her mother not fallen pregnant and found a new purpose in life.

It was no surprise to anyone then that Y/n would be treated lesser than her sister by both parents. Y/n’s mother, now Lady Isadora Harrington, saw Arrabella as a second chance, whilst Lord Harrington naturally leaned towards the child that was his through blood. Despite this, Y/n was still sent through the marriage mart each season, attending balls and accepting callers. It wasn’t that she tired of it, per se, as she did find comfort standing on the sidelines with her two friends. It was moreso the matter of feeling like an imposter, knowing if it werent for a terrible accident that she wouldnt be here. That was something Penelope and Eloise simply couldnt grasp seeing as they were born into the lavish life they lead.

Whilst Y/n wasn’t closed off to the idea of marriage and preparing for life as a dutiful spinster, any man who attempted to court her never made it past the first two weeks. There were too many differences, she supposed, in their upbringing. After the first five men came calling it was clear they wanted a wife, not a companion. Seeing how regular people saw love most definitely shaped how Y/n saw the marriage mart. In the lower classes marrying for love was more common, as there were no titles to be exchanged. The marriage mart seemed to be just that in comparison- a business exchange. 

It was after one of these balls where Y/n found herself, being undressed by her lady’s maid. It was a remarkably unremarkable one, where she was once again stood by the edge like a wallflower. “I just don’t understand miss,” Her maid, Rosalind spoke. “Is it not a great honour to attend?” “I suppose,” Y/n replied as wrangled out of the embellished dress “Yet at the same time it feels so futile. There is no use in pretending, it is simple. I am an imposter.” Rosalind looked up, puzzled as Y/n continued. “I do not feel love, or anything. It feels like business there. No emotions to be had.”

Rosalind stopped pulling down Y/n’s stockings and paused. “Miss, I have been attending to you almost since you first day at this house. You have always been so closed off to everyone, were you like that before the?” She quit her sentence but they both knew she meant the accident. “No, not really” Y/n confessed. “I used to be open and vibrant before it all. It wasn’t even the accident in truth it was the whole combined affair. Not only losing my father but just mere weeks after losing all of the people I had ever known by moving to Mayfair. Even now I feel as though I am playing a role, that one day I might return back to the old house.” Y/n was smiling as she reminisced, unaware Rosalind was done.

“Miss, excuse me for speaking out of term if I do, but you cannot return. You have no reason to. Goodnight” Rosalind shut the door behind her as she left. Y/n sat on the edge of her bed and looked up at the vast array of books on the wall to her right. Tucked away, hidden in the very top corner, was a notebook. A vibrant blue with gold embossing on the spine it seemed to shine in the candlelight. Rolling her bookshelf ladder across to retrieve it she ran her fingers across it, taking in the delicate imprints where the gold pigment lay. After Theo had given her the book, she had never written in it. She had never even seen him after he had given it, seeing as they took no callers for their mourning period and soon moved to Mayfair to be with her new Stepfather. Y/n clinched the book in her hand and contemplated.

—

As she snuck out of her family home’s side door and caressed the dim streets of London it dawned on her the severity of what she was doing. She was unsure what would be worse, to encounter a madman alone of fall victim to the quill of Whistledown writing about an unchaperoned outing. She found her way towards Bloomsbury after several wrong turns, and while some landmarks were vaugley familiar, the majority were not. As she entered the only place on a street that had its lights on, a pub, she asked one of the patrons where to find Corral Street. The patron in return said a couple of slurred words, before turning to the stage and cheering some half hearted gibberish as a woman took to the stage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, If I may steal you from your drinks for just a moment, I find myself compelled to speak on a matter of great importance - the rights of women.” Y/n drew closer, as if entranced, and sat on the second row of benches. “In this new age of enlightenment, where minds are expanding and horizons are broadening, it is imperative that we do not neglect the rights and freedoms of one half of humanity simply based on their gender. For too long, women have been relegated to the sidelines, their voices silenced, their aspirations thwarted by societal norms and expectations. Let us not forget the brave women who have come before us, who fought tirelessly for the rights that we now take for granted. Let us honour their legacy by continuing their struggle, by raising our voices in solidarity until every woman, regardless of class or station, is granted the respect and dignity that is her due!”

The place erupted into cheers, and Y/n joined them, though restrained due to her latter years of education. As she rose up and looked around, confused on where to or how to find directions, her eyes fixed onto a man. Though taller and more rugged than the sensitive boy she once knew, it was undeniable. 

It was Theo.

[knight-of-flowerss]

SOMEONE RIGHT FREAKIN NOW NEEDS TO MAKE OR SEND ME A FULL ON STORY OF ELOISE AND THEO!! LIKE IDGAF IF IN THE BOOKS ELOISE AND PHILIP ARE ENDGAME, IN MY EYES IT IS ELOISE AND THEO! THEY WERE MADE FOR EACHOTHER!

SO I SAY AGAIN. IF ANYONE PUT THERE CAN FEED ME ELOISE AND THEO STUFF SEND IT MY WAY! IDC IF ITS TUMBLR, WATTPAD, AO3, ETC I NEED A STORY ABT THEM. LONG OR SHORT (BUT PREFERABLY LONG) IDGAF. I JS NEED THEM. IT CAN BE SET AFTER SEASON 3 OR IN SEASON 3 OR IN SEASON 2, IDC I JS NEED TO SEE THEM AS ENDGAME. OR EVEN READ SUMMIN SO ANGSTY ABT THEM. PLEASE HELP ME!!! 🙏🙏🙏

@thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[weiliepew]

Bridgerton Season 3 is out!!

Just watched the first 4 episodes OMG!!! I just love penelope and collins together!

Here's my fanart of them in different products!

You can find them here:

[omikki]

Mary Sharma knows what falling for a working boy will cost Lady Bridgerton

[burning-daylight]

chapter three of i’d be smart to walk away (but you’re quicksand) is posted here!

[kylo-renperor]

People writing Theo x Eloise fix-it fics on ao3, thank you.

[thetypingsiren]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Theo Sharpe Characters: Eloise Bridgerton, Theo Sharpe, Violet Bridgerton Additional Tags: Chaotic Eloise Bridgerton, Awkwardness, Awkward Conversations, Fluff without Plot, I really enjoyed writing this ngl, Violet Bridgerton Knows Everything, Matchmaker Violet Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton knows all, Violet the Meddler Bridgerton, I love Violet, what a legend, eloise and theo just kind of stare for this whole fic and i’m okay with that, very awkward, very cute, we love them, hoping this will post because ao3 was down!!, crazy times! Summary:

Violet Bridgerton has been having trouble receiving her papers, and decides to go to Chancery Lane herself to sort it out, opting to take her daughter Eloise with her.

What Violet doesn’t know is that her second eldest daughter and the printer’s apprentice have already met. And not only have they already met, but they are well-acquainted, and have recently fallen out.

Seems like Violet has some work to do.

[shroomonabroom]

promenade by the printer’s shop

archiveofourown

word count: 3,793

summary: It’s been three years since the last time Theo Sharpe spoke to Eloise Bridgerton - three years of remorse for how their relationship ended. Now he lives in a little lakeside cottage where he runs his own printing business that caters to all - including the high society that reminds him constantly of his lost potential love, who he’s relieved to find still thinks of him, too.

Theo Sharpe does not like the rain.

Such weather is not by any means a terrible thing, but it is rather annoying, especially when it comes out of nowhere to beat diagonally across the windows and distract him from his work. He would like nothing more than to curl up and read by the fireplace, but there is much to be done in the little printing and publishing shop by the lake.

Printing is still his main source of revenue (and what he completed his apprenticeship in), but tacking on the secondary title made his business much more successful, and editing and ensuring it makes its way into the hands of a few hundred people is easy enough. Having both jobs keeps him busy, which is the most important thing. The last thing he needs is to get bored and allow his mind to wander out of the shop and into Mayfair, where a girl - and the future he once saw for them - still resides during the season.

His cat jumps up onto the windowsill on top of some of the papers he had left there earlier. She’s one of the many examples of a thing he got just for the purpose of distracting his over-imaginative mind from thoughts of her. She winks at him (she’s a smart cat, who always seems to know precisely when he’s thinking of the girl), and he responds with a “quiet, Mary,” to which she answers with a long yawn before curling into a sleepy ball of long, ginger fur.

He was planning on finishing his edits on those papers, but they aren’t yet due for another week, so he supposes that Mary can stay if she wants. She’s not doing any harm, though Theo does suspect she might be leaving paw prints on top of them. She’s a cat, though. She can do whatever she wants, and Theo would still look at her as if she hung the stars above.

The bell on the door rings, interrupting his inner monologue and signaling someone’s arrival. Theo straightens his back and nods to the man entering his shop, side-eying his cat all the while. It wouldn’t do for her to run out the door and into the rain - she’s done it plenty of times before.

“Good day,” he says when he thinks Mary looks uninterested enough for him to stop monitoring her.

The man greets him back and flashes a broad smile, looking around the shop and letting his blue eyes linger on Mary for a moment. There’s something familiar about him - something that makes Theo pay more attention to his actions than he might otherwise.

“I didn’t know there was a print shop here. I suppose the location works well enough for Lady Whistledown’s liking? Hidden in the center of where high society frequents.” His tone is joking, but Theo hardly notices through the frustration he feels at her mention.

He tries his best to breathe through it. After all, the man might want to purchase or request work from him. The man is standing in the doorway still, his clothes soaking wet. After his initial stare, he seems to purposefully ignore Mary’s presence, which she doesn’t look particularly pleased by.

Then again, she’s not satisfied by much of anything at all. She’s rather difficult in that way.

Much like Lady Whistledown, whose mere mention causes Theo to grip the counter below him. It’s not the first time he’s been suspected of working with her; he did once, but he never would again. Too much had gone wrong - so much had gone right, too, before ending in disaster - the last time he did.

“No. I’m not fond of gossip,” is all Theo says, his voice sharp enough that the man nods in acknowledgment.

“Is there something particular you’re looking for?”

Theo would like to get back to work rather than chatter about it, but he’s trying his best not to appear too hurried to end the conversation. It’s not like the man would be looking for anything other than a place to escape the sudden downpour, and his presence isn’t particularly offensive, even if the thoughts he’s brought forth in Theo’s mind are.

“No. Or, well, I wasn’t before the rain, but, well, my sister,” the man says, capturing Theo’s attention. “She’s finished her manuscript, after years of working on it, mind you, and is looking now for a printer. It’s a wonder you’re based here, where we’ve walked near for years and yet haven’t come across you. We’d be willing to pay just about anything for her happiness, though I’d have to ask the Viscount for approval before we agree on a price.”

Interesting, Theo thinks. But as interesting as the man is, his words make him feel unexpectedly cautious more than anything.

“I only recently set up shop here, so I suppose our paths would not have crossed before now,” he says. “As for your sister, I would prefer to read some of her work before I agree to print it. What is it she writes of?”

“Ah, mostly fiction, but with feminist theories interspersed throughout.”

“Oh? I’ll admit I’m rather partial to that.”

“I am, too, though I wasn’t always. The fictional approach makes the more radical ideas appeal to a wider audience, and if you’re smart enough to read between the lines, there’s quite a lot of social commentary. Much like a good painting - something that matches my own artistic pursuits.”

“You’re an artist?”

“I am. If you ever need artwork, for any reason,” he offers, smiling at the idea. Theo is smiling too, glad to have made acquaintance with the man, but his smile drops as the man finds his way back to describing his sister’s work.

“It’s rather brilliant, the way she’s done it. The one she’s looking to publish now is a romance about two people from differing classes, so you can imagine it’s a bit difficult to get published, even with her methods.”

Theo’s smile has dropped, his mouth gone dry. He knows now why he feels so cautious in the man’s presence. His sister and her story sounds awfully familiar. She sounds exactly like a girl he once knew - if she was able to meet her incredible goals and learn about things separate from the society she so desperately wanted to be rid of.

Like what he wanted to help her with but barely got the chance to before they were torn apart.

And the book she’s written, the one that might be printed and published by him - it’s exactly what he had wanted their relationship to be, what he once thought it might have one day become.

“Oh,” he says ineloquently. And then, “might I ask, is your family not afraid of what scandal might emerge if her work is published?”

“We certainly are. But, well. We are the Bridgertons, you know.” Theo’s heart stops at the confirmation, and his ears ring as the man continues speaking, entirely unaware that he’s just stupefied the printer standing before him. “We have just enough notoriety that our family will survive just about any scandal. We have, before. And now we have the favor of the Queen, for the most part. Times are changing enough that my sister-”

Theo cuts him off, no longer able to listen to the man, too caught up in his past and his many, many regrets.

“Bridgerton, you say? Would your sister - would she happen to be named Eloise?”

The man stills, his gaze suddenly suspicious. “Are you - are you Theo Sharpe? You look familiar, though the details….”

Theo can’t think about how strange the last part is; he’s far too stunned by the first. He knows his name. Eloise Bridgerton’s brother - one of four, he remembers, and the artistic one that Eloise prefers most - knows his name.

His breath catches in his throat, his words escaping in a rasp. “You know about me?”

“Do I - do I know about you?” The man - Benedict, he thinks he remembers - laughs, and Theo feels as if he might be ill. He’s afraid; of the consequences of his relationship with the wealthy girl, but also the things she’s said and the ideas she might have about him.

He still hasn’t had the chance to apologize for everything he said to her at the very end, something he’s thought of doing daily in the three years that have passed. What if she despises him for what he said? He wouldn’t blame her for that - he was cruel in his insecurity - but it’s an awful thought, one he wishes would disappear as quick as it came.

“You - my sister was heartbroken over you. She told our family everything and was determined to find you again, only you had finished your apprenticeship, and your former master refused to tell her anything. She was desolate.”

What? She was the one who left, the one who decided he was no longer worth the risk.

Mr. Harris - and nearly all of Bloomsbury, really - was fully aware of that as he had caught Theo on more than one occasion staring off into space and muttering under his breath how miserable he was over it.

Her being heartbroken and desolate to be unable to find him… Theo feels an equal amount of relief and guilt for feeling such relief. It’s a wonder to know she’s felt similarly after such an awful way of parting, and Theo finds himself feeling a glimmer of hope brewing inside his chest.

But, he reminds himself, that doesn’t mean -  

“And - is she still? Would she want to speak to me?” He needs to know, and is suddenly desperate to get an answer from the man before him, hating that his mind has jumped from hope to despair.

It’s been so long, there’s no guarantee she’d still feel much of anything at all for him, let alone be interested in his company.

“I’ll try and bring her here. She was with me before the rain started. We went in opposite directions, but I‘ll go find her.” The man says in a rush before spinning around and going back out in the rain, leaving the shop and Theo’s head spinning wildly.

So Theo waits there, heart racing and hands fidgeting at his sides, entirely incapable of focusing on his work when there’s a chance he can see her again.

Eloise Bridgerton. “The one who got away,” his friends would call her when he had drunk enough to have stars in his eyes and a loosened tongue.

Several minutes go by, so many that Theo thinks the man might have forgotten.

Wouldn’t that be ironic, for him to forget such a momentous thing and to leave Theo standing there waiting for Eloise’s return all over again? Perhaps the man would remember in three years and would swoop in once again to turn Theo’s world upside down.

Perhaps it would be like that for forever, until he dies of old age or some other cruel thing - every three years like clockwork, reminding him of what could have been and what never will be; though he so desperately wants whatever Eloise is willing to give even if that’s just one more moment in her presence.

He remembers that being around her felt like being in the sunlight, though all their meetings took place in the cool early morning hours before the sun rose. She always made him feel warm, though.

Warm and sunny and bright and shy and awkward, too; clumsy in his attraction to her, in his wanting to do nothing more than to please her.

It was no good to dwell on the past, though, not when it’s been so long, not when it seems unlikely that her brother would return to the little shop with her in tow if he even remembered the way.

But then - “come on, Eloise. I mean it - you’ll want to see for yourself,” Theo hears from within his little print shop, and he thinks he might just drop to the ground below him.

“Really, Benedict! Can’t we just go home already?” It’s her voice, and he can’t hear her brother’s response because it’s her voice, and she’s here, and she’s about to enter his shop, and three years haven’t gone by.

Well, they have. But not the additional ones, not those that would come and go and come and go for forever until his death.

The rain has stopped, though. The rain has stopped, and the sunlight has returned, and so has Eloise after three years of not being in his life.

Theo closes his eyes tightly, steeling himself from all the possibilities that might emerge from his and Eloise’s reunion. He opens them as Benedict enters the shop again, setting off the bell above the door and startling Theo’s cat from the windowsill where she lay, scattering the papers she was sat upon all over the floor.

None of that matters, though, not when the woman who has captured both his heart and mind enters, too.

Eloise is dressed in the same pale purple color she wore when she broke his heart in pieces and took it with her to Mayfair so that she could return to her life among the ton - so that she could keep him safe, she had claimed, and he had lashed out in response saying everything between them was some cruel game to her.

But he didn’t mean that, and he knows now that she regretted her part in it, too. Her brother had implied as such. And Theo knows that she was miserable in that privileged life. All the things they had spoken about so long ago had alluded to it if she hadn’t stated it explicitly.

Her life as a Bridgerton was set within a cage. It was one gilded with gold and ivory and silk, yes, but a cage nonetheless. One that trapped her within its walls and kept her there, telling her how to act and feel and be.

And now she’s standing before him in the tiny cottage he has for a shop and a home, staring at him like she’s seen a ghost.

Their eyes meet. And Theo’s world comes to a still and catches on fire, burning away at everything he told himself to try and forget her in the last three years until it’s nothing more than the dust beneath his feet.

*

“I’ll leave you to it,” Benedict says from the doorway of the shop, and Eloise can hardly hear him or pay any attention to the interior of the shop he’s led her to.

She’s much too busy staring at Theo Sharpe, the man who introduced her to some of her favorite literature and to feelings she hadn’t known she was capable of experiencing for herself.

“Hello, Eloise.”

“Hello.” She’s breathless, utterly spellbound by his warm, burning gaze.

Eloise described it to Benedict once, for him to paint a miniature for her. It was extraordinary, a comfort in times when she missed him most - but her memory and Benedict’s talent couldn’t do those hazel brown eyes justice.

She still has that painting on her nightstand, right next to the last set of books he gave her. She’s wanted to return those, to exchange words and more books with him, for three long years.

She has so much she wants to say, yet she finds herself unable to think of much of anything at all, and the sentence “I didn’t know you had a shop of your own” is the first thing that falls out of her mouth.

Eloise cringes, frustrated and embarrassed that she can’t just say something graceful and eloquent and - and perfect enough to fit the importance of this moment. It’s the first time she’s seen him in years! And she’s been looking for him - she went to all the shops and assemblies in Bloomsbury that she thought he might go to, and asked all sorts of people for help finding him. Nothing worked, and now here she is finding him by chance in a shop by the lake she and high society have promenaded at for forever, and she’s utterly incapable of proper conversation.

She’s relieved to find that Theo doesn’t seem to mind, though, and he responds just as witty as he was before. “There’s a sign with my name on it, in the front.”

“Sharpe Printing?” She guesses, smiling shyly.

“And Publishing,” he corrects her, smirking all the while.

“Ah, I suppose I was too busy complaining about the weather to notice.”

“Yes, and you must have spent some time complaining if you hadn’t noticed the rain has cleared up, too.”

Eloise notices that despite the easy banter, Theo is breathless, too.

He almost seems like he wants to touch her, to make sure she’s real - but he’s holding back, Eloise knows. The last time - when they almost kissed. It was the last time he touched her, the last time they spoke before her fears decided to rally against them and led to their disastrous end.

Those fears almost won - and for some time, they did. But Eloise will not let that separate them again. She would not let their story end when it’s just resumed.

So she smiles widely at him and opens her arms, stepping forward to embrace him. Theo’s chest heaves inwards and his arms close tightly around her. Benedict must have left, though Eloise didn’t hear the bell above the door signal it.

Eloise forgot just how incredible it was to be close to him. He smells like ink and paper and herbal soap, and she has to fight back tears for a moment at how much she’s missed this.

“I missed you,” she whispers it aloud into his chest.

His arms remain tight around her like he’s scared to let her go - like she might disappear all over again if he does.

She would never, but he does not know this.

So she simply tells him, words pouring out like wine; voice sweet like honey.

“Theo,” she says, pulling back just enough from his grasp to look him in the eye. “I’ve spent more time missing you and wishing to be in your arms than I have spent doing anything else.”

“Really?”

“Do you doubt me?” Do you not feel the same? Am I misreading everything?

She’s scared - terrified - to find out, but three long years have passed, and Eloise has thought of nearly all the ways a reunion between the two of them could go.

“No. Never. I’m pleased, is all. It’s what I’ve been afraid to hope for, Eloise. That you would feel even half the way I do for you.”

His voice is low and rich, and Eloise feels as though she’s melting away into the hardwood floors below. This is better than all those hypothetical ways: it’s more than she could have ever dreamed of.

“I always suspected it was the opposite,” she whispers, barely audible above her too-fast heartbeat racing in her ears. Theo smiles, shaking his head.

She’s staring at him now, arms still wrapped around his waist. She’s just staring up at him and wondering how she’s gotten so incredibly lucky to be able to see him again.

His smile is pleasant - it always has been - and crooked and there are dimples on his cheeks and his eyelashes are so, so long and dark around his hazel brown eyes.

She thought it was just his eyes that she and Benedict failed to capture, but no. It’s everything. He’s beautiful, and, not for the first time, Eloise wonders what it might be like to kiss him.

“Theo,” she says, trying to think of how to ask.

She doesn’t need to, though.

Because Theo and her seem perfectly in sync and he must have had the same curiosity because he’s tilting his head down towards hers and waiting there, only inches away.

He’s asking permission, refusing to make the next move until she’s decided what she wants.

She does not pull back, this time. Instead, Eloise leans into it and presses her lips firmly against his.

It’s magic.

His hand creeps up to cup her jaw, tilting her even closer and causing her to gasp into his mouth as they move carefully against each other.

It’s magic, but it’s awkward too. The angle is slightly off, and their noses bump more than once, and his mouth might be a bit too dry against hers. Eloise feels just as perplexed as she does amazed by his gentle touch.

It’s Eloise’s first kiss, after all, and she suspects it might be his, too. Even still, with all their combined inexperience, it’s perfect.

The kiss, her presence in his arms and in his life, the likelihood for even more of it all in the future - it’s what she’s wanted for three years now, and it exceeds all of her wildest dreams.

“Oh!” Eloise says suddenly, interrupting their kiss. She pulls back, and he looks as though he thinks he might have done something wrong, but before he can speak, Eloise is lifting the bottom of her skirts and looking below them.

Theo seems shocked for a moment, and he must be thinking of how bizarre it is to do such a thing before he realizes why, something Eloise has started to giggle quietly at.

His cat has somehow crept underneath Eloise’s skirt and wrapped itself around her lower leg, purring loudly against her skin. “Mary,” Theo says sharply and hears an answering meow. He looks helplessly at Eloise, finding her engulfed in laughter.

“You named your cat after Wollstonecraft?”

“Of course I did,” he says adamantly, as if it would be absurd to name her anything else.

She’s laughing still, so hard that there are tears in her eyes. The entire situation - her brother running into a print shop of all places to get away from the rain, finding Theo after three years of looking for him and discovering he still has feelings for her, kissing him and being interrupted by a cat who’s name just happens to match that of an author Eloise loves - it’s all so perfect.

Theo starts to laugh, too, and they’re smiling at each other and the sun is shining again and everything is so, so good and wonderful and perfect.

The rain has stopped and the sun has come out, and it’s sunny and likely dry enough already that if Eloise were to leave now, she’d be able to return home in less than half an hour. But Eloise thinks she’d prefer instead to stay here and remain in the warmth of Theo’s gaze forever.

(She does stay, and their life together by the lake is just as wonderful as she hoped it might be)

[bonniebirddoesgifs]

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[theregencywriter]

Lost in Silence 2 - Theo Sharpe x Reader

A/n - okay so this is embarrassingly short! I had such a chaotic day but I still wanted to put something out so I hope it's still okay! <3

Theo Sharpe was always attractive, Y/n couldn’t lie. Though most of her days were spent alongside her mother doing daily household tasks, on the odd chance she went to her father's place of work and Theo was there the two would play. Running between the printers, throwing discarded paper at each other, the two would enjoy each other's company into the long hours that the printers required. Though by the end of most days the two would be lightly stained with cheap ink, Y/n couldn't help as they both grew older they exchanged stolen glances, and though Y/n had to move away before it could bloom, she always wondered if he thought her as beautiful as she thought him, despite the ink.

Now, presently stood Theo, taller and with a more defined jaw and ears that stretched outwards slightly more than they used to, one thing was the same - his kind eyes. Y/n watched as the woman that was speaking walked off of the stage and hugged Theo. Though her heart sank momentarily, after he handed her a pamphlet she walked off, as if friends.

Was she jealous? No no, she couldn't be. Right? She was unsure of what to do. She had meant to find him and give him back his notebook, a plan she was beginning to realise was riddled with idiocracy. As she turned to leave a man came to her side. “Excuse me miss, I- '' Theo looked at her and paused. He gulped, and Y/n couldn't help but look at his Adam apple as it pulsated in doing so. “Y/n?” He questioned. It was as if seeing him again had reduced her to that same love stricken child she was all those years ago, though now she found herself in quite the predicament. In the heat of the moment she could only think of doing one thing.

“.....Theo? Is it Theo? You seem familiar” She smiled politely as she spoke, pretending to vaguely recognise his face. He stumbled over his words, clearly either shocked it was her or that she apparently didn’t remember him in the same capacity that he remembered her. “Yes, its Theo, Theo Sharpe?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, pausing momentarily as if allowing her to try and remember him. “Oh yes! The son of my late fathers coworker.” Y/n had never realised how posh her voice had become, but hearing his again made her sink into her old accent, though more falsified and sounding like a parody. He looked at her and jerked his head slightly back in offence.

“Yes, the son of your later fathers-” He trailed off. “I’m sorry? Is that all I was to you?” “How do you suppose?” She questioned. “We were friends, were we not? Or am I misremembering?” His words were tipped with a harsh edge that made her shrivel up slightly. She took in a sigh, “No, no of course not. If I may be honest, seeing you again made me panic.” She chuckled as she said it. It had been the first time in quite some time that she had spoken so freely, unafraid of enunciating or tiptoeing around a subject. “Panicked? What for?” He joined her in a laugh, further easing her state. “I do not know truly. It has been a while hasn’t it?” SHe reached out and placed a hand on his elbow like she had done a thousand times as a young girl, though when her hand was met by a firmer and larger arm by that of man than she remembered she took it off again almost suddenly. “I’m sorry, I forget myself.” She grinned an awkward smile, placing her hand on her forehead as the heat stifled her and took in her surroundings to avert his gaze. “Do not worry, miss Y/n,” He leaned in cheekily “You are not in Mayfair. We may converse freely away from the gaze of that Whistledown.” She looked back at him in confusion. “You know Whistledown? How?” He grinned as if the owner of his own secret. “I print it.” He spoke, confidence beaming from his face. “Well, I say! You must show me where one day, if I am not being too forward.”

“Not at all, why not now?” He asked. For a moment she grinned as she contemplated it, but a sad look soon took over her expression. “I cannot, I’m sorry. I need to be getting back home.” He nodded his head and they hugged, him stroking her back in a manner that she could not help but reminisce about later on that night in bed. As she walked out and entered into the nearest available carriage, she ran her fingers up and down the blue book, still in her possession. Another reason to go back, she thought as she rode off.

[alicewhitethp]

Pansy Parkinson was having a really bad summer, and now she's sixteen so things aren't looking up.

Features terrible Death Eater parenting, eating disorders, bisexual Slytherins, non graphic references self harm, slightly graphic references to torture, the Golden Trio looking a bit bad, consensual but underage sexual activity (they're both 16), creepy dudes, implied/past sexual harassment, and self inflicted dramatic haircuts. I'll add more tags if anything else comes up. Some of the tags are only briefly touched on, some are very important. Mind the tags and tread wisely.

This is my first full length fic and it was my NaNoWriMo 2018. I wanted to try a new perspective. Hope you like it.

[weiliepew]

Bridgerton Season 3 is out!!

Here's my fanart of the characters in different products!

You can find them here: