Is anyone interested in seeing Pitt OCs/self inserts and stuff? I've been having insane writer's block and I can't draw digitally so I'm basically just making cute little outfits and collages and stuff for her. I haven't really seen anyone else doing it so idk if people want that...
santos saying that langdon could relapse and then picking up a scalpel and putting it in her pocket...the whole "santos and langdon lash out at each other because they see themselves reflected in the other" thing is not even subtext
Al-Hashimi's cry in the car was so fucking relatable to anyone who has a chronic illness that feels like they're being barred from doing what they want because of something that they had no choice or control over.
Summary: Isadora doesn't want to go camping alone, so you gladly agree to be a chaperone.
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Slight blood mention
Pairing: Isadora Capri x Reader
The sun was high in the sky as students milled around the campsite. They were too excited for their own good, already causing a large number of fires and breaking a tuition’s worth of property. It was moments like that where you were more than happy you weren’t a teacher anymore. It was no longer your responsibility to corral the children into behaving.
Well. It shouldn’t be your responsibility.
“Have I mentioned how thankful I am that you agreed to join our trip?”
You plastered a smile onto your face before turning around to greet Principle Dort. He was… kind, you supposed. A little too extreme on his “anti-Normie” stance, but you supposed it wasn’t unwarranted. Though you weren’t the biggest fan of his leading style. Perhaps you had no leg to stand on.
“Isadora relayed the message,” you said politely. Numerous times, you thought but kept to yourself.
“I know you’re retired,” he said with a shrug, “but we could always use more chaperons.”
An explosion sounded in the distance. Neither of you flinched.
“I’ll always answer Nevermore’s call,” you answered.
“Where is Isadora, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Howls echoed through the unsettled air.
“I believe she’s giving the pack a pep talk,” you hummed. “Since someone planned the trip during a full moon.”
You were being petty and you didn’t care. It wasn’t safe to be camping when immature wolves were present. The lupine cages would only do so much to the unbridled rage of a few hundred pounds of raw werewolf. And you knew Dort was the decision maker at Nevermore.
“With you and Miss Capri around, I’m sure they’ll be just fine,” he said with a smile before walking off without a backwards glance.
“Fine like a bull in a china shop,” you grumbled, your smile falling.
With Dort out of the way, you started making your rounds amongst the students. You gave a polite wave toward the Addamses; they were quite peculiar, but very sweet. Maybe you could convince Isadora to invite them over for dinner some time. Based off the cookies their butler had offered you, you would need to figure out a meal with bugs. Maybe worms? Okay, maybe you didn’t need to invite them for dinner, tea would work just fine.
Enid Sinclair ran up to you from across the camp. You liked that girl; she was kind and genuine. Isadora’s words nagged at the back of your mind, but you locked them back up. The girl was sweet, and you wouldn’t dare say anything to her until Isadora was ready.
“Have you seen Miss Capri?” Enid asked after giving a polite little wave and smile.
“I thought she had been with all of you,” you admitted. Clearly I was wrong. “Did you need her for something?”
“Oh, not really,” she said, her hands clasping behind her back. A common gesture, you realised. “Just wanted to see if she was going to the campfire tonight.”
She likes her, you thought to yourself. Not that it was difficult to believe. Everyone liked Isadora, even Miss Addams (though you heard she refused to admit such a thing. Adorable). It was in her voice, her mannerisms that kept the students calm and level-headed. She kept you calm, that was for sure. Her heart could win over the heartless.
You missed her.
“She wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said.
Enid’s shoulders fell with relief. You would need to remember to tell Isadora just how much of an impact she was already making. With any hope, she would believe you and keep her head high. The students needed her as badly as she needed them.
“Can you tell her I’ll save her a seat?” Enid asked.
You couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s words. “Of course I will.”
“Thank you!”
You laughed to yourself as Enid practically skipped away. Oh, Isadora would have a good laugh about her favourite student’s antics. Though, you weren’t the biggest fan of Enid’s words. You had wanted to sit next to Isadora. Well, at least you shared her tent. That would have to do for the weekend.
After the events of the morning, which of course had to involve trouble with non-Outcasts (you didn’t particularly enjoy calling them Normies; it felt wrong), you wanted nothing more than to go back to the tent and have some tea with Isadora. Nothing dramatic, no desire for anything more, just a quiet moment away from the commotion. You weren’t used to the noise anymore, opting instead for peace and silence.
None of which could be found in anyone associated with Nevermore.
Someone bumped into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you both mumbled before your ears perked up. “I was looking for you.”
Isadora smiled softly. “What a coincidence.”
“Walk me to the tent?” You asked.
Her arm slipped comfortably around your own. Almost instantly the heat enveloped your skin, leaving you feeling clammy. You never minded that she ran hot. In fact, you had called her your personal space heater on your first date. A silly nickname that stuck on those cold nights when you couldn’t help but stick your freezing feet on her warm legs.
“Miss Sinclair was looking for you,” you said as you both walked slowly toward your shared tent.
“Was it an emergency?” Isadora asked quickly.
“Oh yeah,” you said seriously. “She wanted to make sure you sat next to her at the campfire tonight.”
A warm slap left a tingle on your forearm. “That’s not funny.”
“That’s not what you constitute an emergency?”
“Not even close,” she chuckled. “Though I believe that means you’re no longer my date tonight.”
“A small sacrifice to pay for a child’s happiness,” you teased.
“I think Miss Sinclair can share,” she whispered.
There was no way to evade every student that had attended the trip. They were everywhere, infesting every inch of space like roaches. And Isadora ensured she said hello to every single one of them as you walked. Their eyes lit up as she approached, giving more enthusiasm in their replies than you thought teenagers capable of anymore. Certainly you had never gotten such a reaction when you taught. In another time, envy would’ve situated itself within your heart.
But you knew Isadora. You knew the lengths she went to give back, even when she felt the most selfish. Nothing about her was cruel. She was a lone wolf, sure, but not unkind. All she longed for, whether she admitted it or not, was a pack. You weren’t much of a pack, being only one person, but it was a start. She was finding herself the unknowing leader of the young wolves at Nevermore, even if she didn’t realise it.
“The children adore you,” you said only after entering the tent and securing the entrance. Not that it did much good; soundproof, the flimsy fabric was not.
“Some of them just need a little more guidance than others,” she said.
Her eyes sparkled every time she talked of her students. You wondered if she realised it.
“You’ve gone soft, Miss Capri,” you said.
You reached forward, grasping her forearms until you could pull her closer. Her laughter tickled your ears in the best way. You would kill to hear the sound whenever you wanted. Nothing was a better cure. Her warmth leaked through your clothes, causing the already unbearable heat to become utterly horrific. You didn’t care.
“Wolves aren’t soft.”
“You’re a wolf,” you said, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead and reveling in the heat. “And you’re plenty soft.”
“Only for the right person.” Her eyes glistened in the lamplight. She was beautiful.
“Would that be me?” You asked even though you already knew the answer.
Isadora was one for talking her feelings through. Whether they were good or bad, she wanted to talk about it, and you never stopped her. But when it came to this, to showing her love? She was speechless, opting instead to use her actions instead. You liked that.
She leaned forward and pressed the gentlest whisper of a kiss on your lips. Her nails extended, digging into the flesh of your forearms until droplets of blood pooled around the small wounds. She hummed softly against your skin; she tasted of sweet tea.
“It’s always you,” she whispered.
Not if Enid has any say in it, you kept to yourself. Enid was a sweet kid who needed a mother, and Isadora filled that hole. You would never bring it up to either of them. They both needed each other in more ways than they could accept. You knew Isadora was yours; she just needed to be a mentor.
The gentle twang of guitar strings echoed through the air of the camp. Muffled by the tent, you could imagine it was coming through a broken phone speaker, quiet but soulful. It would be time for the campfire soon, and you would have to relinquish your spot by Isadora’s side.
You pulled her closer until her chest pressed against yours. Instinct dictated her arms wrap around your neck and yours around her waist. Isadora was truly a wonderful dancer, but she did nothing more than sway back and forth with you. Nothing fancy, just an intimate moment before having to exit the safe confines of the tent and return to the real world.
“Thank you for being here,” she mumbled against your neck before leaving a soft kiss against the tender flesh.
You pulled her tighter and pressed a returning kiss to the top of her head.
₊˚⊹ Both of these ladies are doms, and mean ones too, just in different ways
₊˚⊹ Agatha is harsh, manhandling you and bossing you around with lots of heavy degradation
₊˚⊹ Rio’s more subtle with her meanness, she's patronizing, backhanded, calling you the sweetest pet names while she toys with your body until you're in tears
₊˚⊹ Both of them can also be brat-tamed but pretty much only by each other
₊˚⊹ So they appreciate having you there as a sub between them, you're like the glue holding them together
₊˚⊹ They love taking turns on you, wearing you out until you're a shaking, panting mess on the bed
₊˚⊹ Sometimes they get so competitive about it too, seeing who can fuck you harder, make you moan louder, make you cum quicker…
₊˚⊹ And god bless you when they bring magic into the bedroom
₊˚⊹ All the while they talk about you but not to you, like you're just their pretty little sex doll, to be seen not heard
₊˚⊹ Rio focuses wholly on you when she's in charge, whether it's edging or overstimulation, your body can't catch a break with her
₊˚⊹ Agatha is a more selfish lover, she wants you to make her cum more than the other way around and she won't think twice about denying you if you misbehave
₊˚⊹ Rio will make a show of vouching for you when Agatha's especially mean, but the smirk says it all, she likes to see you suffer even more than Agatha does
I’m trying to write a Eloise x reader one-shot in 3POV and I am struggling. So I’m either gonna have to make it Eloise x OC or 2POV. I’m gonna do the former for now but if anyone has a preference I’m all ears✌️
Penelope writing Whistledown is the regency Era equivalent of modern day teenage girls having Wattpad and Ao3 accounts and pretending to be adults while writing unhinged werwolf fanfiction
Summary: Fem!reader is staying with the Bridgertons for the social season and decides to confront Eloise about her feelings.
Word count: 0.8k
Warnings: None
<A/N> This is the first piece of fanfiction I have shared with anyone so it might be a bit rough, but if you have any feedback don’t be afraid to comment! Also, English isn’t my first language, sorry about any spelling errors :P
…
It was already past dark and most of the Bridgerton household had retired for the night. Only one person remained, curled up on a small sofa in the drawing room, her nose buried deep in a book. You could not help but stare. You were not sure you could ever get enough of it. Eloise’s hair, which had previously been pinned up, now hung loose around her face, and a burning candle cast a gentle light on her face.
You walked up to her, drawing her attention away from the yellowed parchment. “May I speak to you about something?” You said hesitantly, suddenly too nervous to meet her gaze.
She laughed “Of course you may. You can always come to me.” Her smile was as warm as always, and her eyes looked like deep blue waters in the flickering candlelight. You suddenly felt hot, as if you skin was burning, and you forced yourself to look away.
“If we are to remain friends-“
Eloise cut you off; “Of course we are, what makes you believe that we would not?” She tried to make it sound light hearted, but the words came out sharper than she had intended.
“If we are to remain friends” you started again “I can not keep secrets from you”
You looked down on your friend. Her face had settled in a worried expression. You suddenly regretted bringing up the topic but that was to no avail. You must finish what you started.
“I have these - feelings - that I would like to discuss. And I do not expect you to feel the same way…” at this point you had started pacing back and forth like a trapped animal.
“… but in these past few weeks I have come to know you as someone who is not quick to judge others, and I sincerely hope you will grant me that kindness…” Your steps slowed.
“For I hope I have not misjudged you, ms. Bridgerton.”
As you turned to look at her, your eyes meeting for the first time since you started you rambling, you knew you had to tell her. You could not keep a friendship build on lies.
Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted slightly as if she was wanting to say something. You stood in silence for a moment allowing her time to intervene. But she just tilted her head slightly, her eyebrows furrowing into an expression of worry and confusion.
You realised you had dragged this out for far too long. And you suspected your nervous fidgeting had not helped soothe your friend’s worries.
“Every time I look at you, Eloise, it’s as if my whole world disappears and I am left with nothing but blank space; I am left grasping to find my way back to reality because if I am alone with you my mind will wander to places it should not.” You could not afford to stop talking, for if you did you might not find you way back.
“I am willing to throw away whatever dignity I have if it means I get to hold you, and it scares me. Because I- I have never felt like this before.” That last sentence came out more as a whisper.
Eloise sat still as a statue, unchanged, and for a second you started to wonder if you had imagined the whole thing, but then she moved. She straightened her posture, looked down at the book laying on her lap and hesitated for a moment before fixing her gaze back onto you. You suddenly felt unable to breathe, as if a weight was put on you chest.
Eloise, without breaking eye contact, untangled her bare feet from her nightgown and slowly stood up, meeting you at eye level.
Her face was impossible to read as her expression seemed to change constantly.
“Eloise, I-“ You started to apologise, but all words left you as you felt her hand reach for yours. Her touch was warm, like a small spark that quickly grew into a burning fire. She held onto your hand, still with her eyes fixed on you. And without thinking you took a single step, almost closing the distance between your bodies.
She was close enough for you to feel her warm breaths against your skin and you could not pull your eyes from her face. You were desperate to memorise every freckle on her face, the way the flickering shadows from the candlelight softened her features and then there were her eyes. They were like a frozen lake; idle on the surface, but beneath it lies a deeper water, constantly moving with the current. They wandered across your face before settling on your lips.
“Tell me…“ She trailed of, her voice was low and husky. A shaky breath escaped your lips and she took that as an invitation to start slowly guiding your hand upward until your palm rested against the bare skin right below her collarbone. “…tell me if you want me to stop.”
And with that she fully closed the distance between you, and as your lips met hers you knew that you never wanted her to let go.
I’m hopping on the fanfiction train (long time reader, first time writer), I’ve got some Eloise Bridgerton stuff in the works but I am open to requests (I can’t promise I will do them)
my favorite thing about this post is that a handful of people have gone "oh wait! this is tangible proof that i don't need to be embarrassed about leaving a lot of comments!! i'll stop being so ashamed!" YES!! ao3 authors basically universally will die for people who comment spam. we love to see it and we do not find you weird or annoying At All.
think about it this way: we ourselves are weird enough to have spent several hours, days, or Months writing down this story. we are weird enough about the content to do that! why on Earth would we be mean and judgmental toward people who care enough to get excited about reading it?? we shared it Specifically For You To Get Excited About!
