#so im apologizing in advance about anything that i do that's annoying

[n1nicou]

Loves wound, loves cure

pairings: dallas winston x reader

summary: dallas winston is a stubborn man, causing a fight between the two of you. but when you come to him all beaten, it seems like the fight has long left his mind, his only concern being you.

a.n: sorry i haven’t posted in three months, i had mid years and school is really eating my ass right now!!! 😀😀🤩🤩 (math and science can go fuck themselves!!!) anyway eat this up yall cause lord knows when im posting a new fic 😭

"fine! don’t want me to talk?" you shouted at dallas with an angry tone before getting up from the couch and making your way to your front door.

"where ya goin'?!" dallas said as he immediately shot up from the couch, seeing you move to the front door.

"we’ll talk when i feel like talkin'!" you said as you looked back at dallas with your eyebrows furrowed together. your was blood boiling with anger, but you couldn't ignore the hint of sadness deep inside your chest.

fights between you and dallas weren’t uncommon. when you did fight, it would always be over something stupid that would end with the both of you making up. dallas never said sorry, not with his pride and ego he did, but he found other ways to apologize to you. more subtle, but obvious enough for you to pick up on. however, tonight was a different story. you and dallas had been going on and on about something he had done.

you and dallas had been at the dingo all night, which was fun for the first few hours until some broad thought it was a good idea to try and sweet talk dallas, which you obviously did not enjoy. dallas, in his end, didn’t seem to mind the lousy and annoying flirtatious comments the girl made. not that he condoned to the girl's advances or try to flirt back with her, but the occasional smirk would appear on his face which only encouraged the girl to continue.

you watched as the scene unfolded, your eyebrows furrowed together when you noticed that dallas wasn't rejecting her advances. you knew dallas liked to have his fun, tease and bother girls, but not initiating anything as you were his first real girlfriend, which was strange for him. so when you both came back to your place, after ignoring him the whole rest of the night and finally blowing up on him after he profusely kept asking you why you were acting like this, he didn’t really understand why you were so upset. to dallas, it was just harmless fun, he wouldn’t do anything with her.

so there you two were, arguing back and forth for a while before dallas’s anger got a hold of him and he yelled at you to shut up.

and this is exactly the way you found yourself in this situation, walking out of your house as you just weren't able to deal with dallas right now. as much as dallas protested, you ignored his words, your mind filled with anger and disappointment.

dallas laid down on the flimsy couch of the curtis home, a cigarette between his fingers. he tried his best to be mad at you, wondering what your damn problem was, but in the end, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit guilty.

the image of your angry but sad and upset face plaged dallas's mind, making him wonder if maybe he was too harsh with you. however, dallas's deep thinking was suddenly stopped when he heard the door of the curtis house slam open. dallas sat up from the couch and turned his head to the front door, expecting to see johnny coming to find refuge from his own house or a guy from the gang.

there you were, your lip busted open, your nose bleeding. open cuts and gashes trailed down from your forehead to your jaw. you were shaking violently as tears rolled down your cheeks, the saltiness burning your open wounds and broken sobs leaving your bleeding lips. with your blurry vision, you were able to see dallas, who you hadn’t expected to see at the curtis house.

dallas wasn’t sure who came up to whom first. whether you rushed to dallas first or he rushed to you first, it didn’t really matter, as dallas was now right in front of you, looking down at you with concern.

“jesus christ, the hell happened to you, y/n?!” dallas asked with an impatient and angry tone. despite his angry demeanor, dallas’s fingers reached to gently cup your chin.

you were in too much shock to even utter a single word. you looked up at dallas, eyes full of fear, as tears ran down you cheeks. you opened your mouth to try and speak, but all that came out were a few broken sobs and his name.

“d-dally…” you croaked out in a shaky voice. dallas felt his heart break at your pained voice. he soon understood that he wasn’t going to get anything out of you unless you calmed down first. dallas gently picked you up in his arms before placing you down on the flimsy leather couch. your hand tightly gripped his forearm, tears still running down your bruised and cut cheeks.

dallas thought that if he made one wrong move, you would shatter like glass. his rough and calloused hand gently cupped your cheek, looking right down at you.

"'s alright, dally's here... relax, sweet girl, i got you..." dallas whispered in a soft and gentle tone, such a gentle tone. the kind of tone he had never ever used on a single soul, not even on you before this. the kind of tone he wouldn't be caught dead using on anyone, anyone but you right now. he simply kept rubbing your cheek with his thumb, hoping that it would calm you down, as he didn't really know how to comfort someone in this situation. to be fair, dallas never really comforted many people in his life, so he tried to keep his approach gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you.

with the help of dallas's soft rubs on your cheek and gentle words, your adrenaline slowly started to dissipate. now, you could really feel all the pain from each and every bruise, gash and cut that was inflicted on you. your breaths slowed down and you slowly became more conscious of your surroundings.

"tell me what happened, sweet girl." dallas got straight to the point as soon as he noticed that you were more aware of everything now. he was itching to know who or what decided it was a good idea to hurt his girl like this.

it took you a few moments to collect your thoughts before you spoke up in a shaky tone. "i-i was walkin outside after our fight and-and this white mustang started tailing me..." dallas felt his stomach drop at your words. he didn’t need to hear the rest to get a clear thought in his head of what had happened, but he let you talk.

“i tried running or-or sum’ but they caught up to me… and i…” you tried to keep talking, but you felt as if a thorn bush was stuck in your throat, anything else other than sobs being unable to leave your mouth.

“shh, easy, y/n… ‘s alright… did they hurt you, sweet girl?” dallas asked. he already knew the answer, but he thought that maybe it would be easier if he helped you say it. you nodded your head yes before looking down at your lap, tears dripping down onto your jeans.

"fuckin' socs..." dallas felt his blood boil as you confirmed his suspicions. his fists clenched, knuckles turning white and nails digging into his palms as a strong feeling of rage took over his mind. he would kill whoever touched you, his girl, which he had made pretty clear to everyone.

but he held back, his only priority right now being you. he would deal with the unfortunate socs who thought it was a good idea to hurt you, later.

“i-im sorry, if i hadn’t been such a stubborn idiot, if i had just shut my trap like you said, none of this woulda happened…” you spoke up in your quiet and broken voice as you kept staring down at your lap. dallas immediately stopped you, tilting your head up so his eyes met yours. the guilt hit dallas like a truck. harder than ever now that were blaming yourself and excusing his behavior.

“that don’t matter anymore. it ain’t your fault, doll” the last thing on dallas’s mind was the fight you two had earlier and he didn’t want you thinking about it, nor did he want you blaming yourself for something someone else did to you. his rough fingers kept stroking your damp cheeks, feeling your whole body shake underneath his gentle touch.

"dal-dal, i'm so scared..." you croaked out as your grip on his forearm tightened. you were still in a lot of shock and pain, your body violently shaking.

dallas couldn't handle it anymore. he pulled you into his arms, bracing you with a gentle hug, afraid that if he held you any tighter, you would collapse. you tensed up in his arms, surprised at his actions, but you soon melted into his touch and buried your head into the side of his neck.

"shhh... you're safe, those fuckin' idiots are gone... s’alright sweet girl.." dallas tried to say in the most gentle tone possible, but you heard his anger slip through his comforting words.

nonetheless, you were shocked.

dallas winston, the dallas winston had you wrapped up in his arms, in a hold so so gentle as he shushed you softly. the words he said were comforting, sweet. something no single soul, not even yourself, had ever heard from this tuff, mean, violent greaser. the man who couldn't love anything, no one, was afraid to break you as he held you so delicately. slowly but surely, you felt your fear disappear. a sense of safety washed over you as he held you.

you knew you would be okay.

#the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders fanfiction #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston fanfic #dallas winston x reader #fanfic #dallas winston

[gettinshiggywithit]

Can you do a fukuzawa, ranpo, kunikida, dazai, chuuya, (you can add more if you want :) except the kids though) x stalker reader (I'd like it to be slightly suggestive)

!The BSD Boys X A Stalker!Reader!

Scenario:- how I think the bsd boys would react to having a stalker (reader is a bit yandere-y and creepy?)

Pairing(s):- dazai x gn!reader | chuuya x gn!reader | ranpo x gn!reader | kunikida x gn!reader

Genre:- im not really sure...

Type:- headcanons

A/N:-Hi there! SO I know you said u wanted it to be suggestive,but truth be told I don’t really see them taking it lightly enough for it to become suggestive… Now I know that not all writers on here will think that but I try to make my interpretations of how they would react in certain situations as accurate as possible.so I truly would like to apologize in advance for it not being what you expected/wanted🤕. @thesimpupthesky id love to hear ur feedback even if it isn’t necessarily positive 😓!

Disclaimer:- There’s nothing even remotely romantic about this.#prepare for blatant rejection and uncomfortable scenarios if you wanna go forward

->Dazai

Honestly he found it amusing,how you sent letters and little things and he found it even more amusing how you thought he wouldn’t know who you were.

Dazai was a man of many talents and finding out information he wanted and needed was one of them.

So he decided he’d give you the chance to talk to him,or rather for him to talk to you.

The next day dazai left the agency building for a little walk,knowing full well you’d follow him.

Once he was about to pass an alley,he turned into it instead of just going straight.

This confused you.

You’d been studying his routes and his schedules and the only thing he visited around here other than the café was the convenience store that always seemed to have a deal on bandages,and even that was a few blocks away.

Nevertheless,you followed him into the alley,maybe you could talk to him? Finally hear his voice speaking to you..

But when you turned the corner the alley was empty

You walked in and looked around,how could he have vanished??

Just as you were about to give up and leave you felt someone’s presence behind you.

you turned around you were met with the object of your admirations.

The man himself

Osamu dazai

And suddenly you were nervous…

No words came out of your mouth when you tried to speak,so he decided to fill the awkward silence himself.

“so you’re the one who’s been stalking me,” he said with a  laugh. “I was honestly hoping for a more challenging opponent”

This snapped you out of your trance.

“opponent? I-I don’t want to be your opponent…”

“what do you want to be then?”he asked,the look in his eyes showed he knew the answer.

“i…I wanna be your partner;as in,in a romantic sense”

“so you want to date me? Well im sorry to disappoint,but im not interested”

“but-”you began and were immediately cut off

“I’d like to be with someone who would be willing to commit double suicide with me,and im guessing that you aren’t hmm?”

“i-”

“mhmm,”he said turning around to leave the alley,  “that’s what I thought”

“but I love you!”

He turned back to look at you before leaving the alley, “how tragic”

And with that he was gone

->Chuuya

Honestly it really pissed him off.

Everyday,his mail was filled with letters and little knick knacks you’d sent him and it was getting really really annoying,because you’d had the brilliant idea of making your letters look like official ones he actually needed to open.

He’d gotten pretty good at telling when it was one of your bs ones or his actual mail now.but he’d always end up goin thru the ones he’d sorted out too.

He couldnt risk missing anything important.

And while it did make Chuuya’s life a living hell,he didn’t think you were worth engaging.so he suffered in silence.

That is,until he received a rather unsavoury package.

“Unsavoury how op?”You must be asking!

Well lets say he knew it was a bs letter when he saw the package alone.

Because it was wet.

He grabbed a paper towel and used it to toss the package aside,looking through his actual letter pile to make sure nothing important had been soiled as a result of your annoying-ass shite.

Thankfully nothing had been ruined but when he had finished work that day,his curiosity got the best of him and he put on a pair of disposable gloves to open the package (AINT NO WAY IN HELL HES TOUCHIN THAT SHIT WITH HIS ACTUAL GLOVES! NAH UH!)

When he opened the envelope a set of undergarments fell out,and they were...nope he wasn’t gonna finish that thought!

This was the final straw!

This had gone on long enough and he was fed up.

Chuuya used the mafia’s resources and was able to find someone who could find out who tf you were

Once he had his answer he looked at your address and thought he’d give you about as much of a surprise you had him.

He picked open your lock and stood by your window all the photos and pictures of him you had tacked around, making his skin crawl.

just as you were coming in through the door you noticed a figure by your window and squeaked out loud in shock,dropping your bags.

“You-you’re-”

“The person you’ve been fkin inconveniencing,yeah” he said,taking a purposeful step towards you.

You took a step back,this wasnt how you’d envisioned your meeting! He wasn’t supposed to be mad...why was he mad??

“Inconvenience? I never meant to inconvenience you!” You squeaked out.

Chuuya didn’t even try to hide his disdain at that.but he also wanted to get out of there asap!

He looked you directly in the eye and said in the most intimidating voice you’d ever heard, “either you leave me the fxck alone,or ill send my subordinates to take out the trash.”

You were so shook by this that you fell over backwards and he took that as his cue to leave.

He held onto his hat and ducked back through the window.

this snapped you out of your train wreck of thoughts.

You reached out to him and shouted,clear as day and loud enough to be heard, “BUT I LOVE YOU!”

He looked back at you and the disgust that came over his sharp features managed to distort them in a surprisingly unattractive way

“Not my fuxkin problem!”

And with that he disappeared and your entire reality came crashing down as the fog cleared and you realised just what had happened.

->Ranpo

“Ooh mail!” He said as he went through the pile kunikida had brought up for him.

But nope. None of the snacks he’d ordered had come yet. And he knew better than to eat mystery candy from strangers,his dad boss fukuzawa had taught him better.

This was the fourth day too...

Ack he was sick of this!

Ranpo quickly deduced your location and asked dazai to take care of it.

He knew dazai’s past from the mafia and he really wasn’t bothered to go himself.

But he also knew dazai wouldn’t do anything unnecessary,so he was the perfect choice!

When dazai came back ranpo asked him how it went

“Oh,nothing special,just some poor soul stuck in a delusion”

To which ranpo nodded,commenting that it was finally over.

“Yeah about that,they said they loved you...sounded pretty convinced you loved em too.”

Ranpo knew this,but he asked dazai what his response had been nevertheless.

“Ah,” said Dazai, falling into the chair next to ranpo’s.

“I just told them that you had better things to do and better people to spend your time with.”

“ a bit harsh?”

“Mhm,but you know there wasnt any other way.”

Ranpo nodded once again and went back to his snack and cartoon.

The next days came and went and ranpo finally had his regular mail on schedule.

Now his pile was of boxes of sweet drinks,snacks and even more delights!

->Kunikida

This entire ordeal irked kunikida to his core

It neither made sense according to his ideals,nor did it make sense in general

Furthermore your letters and packages were becoming a nuisance

He had to end it.

Kunikida asked katai to find your location and when it was handed to him he took it and left.

Thirty minutes was all he allocated for this entire situation ,and he aimed to end it within his pre-set time frame.

He knocked on your door and when you answered it,you were obviously taken aback!

You struggled to find words so he filled in the silence.time was ticking after all...

“Good day,y/n. Im sure you know who i am but im here to tell you that i am not interested in you.you fail to meet all the criteria to fit into my spousal plan project and you have shown a severe lack of honorable ideals.therefore i would like you to leave me alone and allocate your time more constructively.thank you and good day.”

He bowed and turned to leave but you gripped his arm and with determination dripping from your every word said, “but i love you! We’re meant to be!”

He sharply shook off your hand and barely even looked at you as he said, “i wholeheartedly disagree.take care and goodbye.”

And then he left without even sparing you a glance.

All rights reserved © 2023 gettinshiggywithit . Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

#📚jaya’s tales #🐶🐕jaya’s bungou stray dump🐕🐶 #📬jaya answers #Dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x y/n #bsd dazai #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya hcs #dazai hcs #dazai oneshot #ranpo headcanons #kunikida hcs #ranpo bungou stray dogs #edogawa ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x y/n #kunikida x you #kunikida x y/n #bsd kunikida #bsd ranpo

[gh0st-t0wn3]

How do you think the free noodles couple or mei and mk would react if they knew of this? Or if they noticed red son's MASSIVE eyebags (if he does have eyebags) im really sorry if I'm annoying u with an ask just after the one I made yesterday, you don't have to respond, it's just that I've been scrolling through your blog and I love your answers to asks! (Again, don't respond right away if you don't want to, or don't at all, no pressure!)

(This is long, I apologize in advance lol) 

I don't think Redson would leave his workshop much, if at all, during all his 'overworking himself to the point of exhaustion' scenarios, but if MK or Mei nagged him enough to convince him to come over and hang out it would definitely raise concern. 

Seeing him walk into the shop would raise questions relatively quick due to his dark eyebags and his need to occasionally hold onto the counter/wall so he doesn't lose his balance or his noticeably skinnier arms or grumbling stomach due to skipping meals.  He'd probably try to insist that he's fine when someone asks about it though, say that he just got carried away with a passion project and didn't have time to grab a snack before leaving the house, or he lost track of time and didn't realize he worked through the whole night, which isn't necessarily a lie, but it does downplay the severity of the situation, but he'd insist it's fine! 

They'd all have different ways of trying to deal with the situation; 

Mk would be the most worried, he'd probably try to ease Redson into sleeping by putting on some movies or music and just hope he'll doze off on his own, but if that doesn't work he'd try just telling Redson to his face that he needs to go to sleep and will offer to get him some sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet.  He'd also offer to get Redson some food and a drink from the shop while they wait for the pills to kick in and he'd likely sleep on the floor so Redson could have his bed for the night.

Mei would make him rest the second she saw him dozing off, I don't mean she'd try to convince him or anything, because she knows just how stubborn he is, she makes him rest.  She'd be the most aggressive with it as well, mad at Redson for not taking care of himself properly while working and would probably talk about threatening his parents to keep an eye on their son so he doesn't overwork himself again, but whether or not she'd actually go through with it or if it was just a joke of sorts is something Redson isn't entirely sure of just yet.

Pigsy isn't particularly close with Redson and probably wasn't thrilled about having him around at first given the fact that he's the son of DBK and PIF, but he's also a father, and seeing Redson so sleep deprived and skinny from skipping meals because of overworking himself would concern him. He knows he can't force Redson to do anything, he can't make him go home and rest, but what he can do is make him food and ensure he gets something in his stomach, he runs a noodle shop after all, he couldn't just NOT give him food when he's clearly not eaten in a while. Redson would insist it's not necessary when Pigsy offers to make something and would act annoyed when he makes food anyway, but would eat it regardless because it just smells so good and he didn't realize how hungry he'd actually been until food was in front of him. 

It's become somewhat of a routine now, whenever Redson is visiting, regardless of whether or not he'd eaten that day, Pigsy always makes sure to make him food, they don't actually talk to each other much, but the gesture is sweet nonetheless, Pigsy is happy knowing Redson had something to eat, and Redson is grateful for his concern, he'd probably pay it back to him by fixing any faulty/old kitchen equipment or the delivery cart (with or without Pigsy knowing).

I'm not entirely sure Tang would know how to deal with the situation, just like with Pigsy he knows he's not Redson's parent and can't really make him do anything, only unlike his husband, Tang isn't able to cook for or provide him with some other form of assistance. I think he'd be more of a concerned bystander who would subtly keep an eye on Redson to make sure he's okay and doesn't like, walk into a wall or trip or something, rather than actively trying to get him to sleep or eat like the others do.

I know you didn't ask about Sandy but just for fun since he's the last one in the group; I think he'd try not to pry into Redson's situation, but he'd let Redson know he was allowed to come to him if he needs and he'd probably give him some boxes of tea to take home, one that's known for its relaxing effects, and one that's sleep-inducing (season 2 episode 3, "Pig Pong Panic"), he'd be sure to warn Redson ahead of time and let him know the right amount to add so he doesn't do what MK did, of course!

Regardless of how the situation is handled, they all put in their fair share of work to make sure he's okay :)

(Please don't feel bad at all about asking me anything, I love answering questions like this, it gives me a chance to ramble about my headcanons for these characters and explore their dynamics with eachother, so ask away!)

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid red son #monkie kid red son #red son #hong hai'er #lego monkie kid mk #lego monkie kid mei #lego monkie kid pigsy #lego monkie kid tang #lego monkie kid sandy #Gh0st ask

[byebyelullabye]

fifteen ~ b.b (part 2)

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

During the summer of her fifteenth year, Y/n L/n realizes the nature of her affections for her best friend Benedict Bridgerton. All the while, the Bridgerton family continually grows exasperated with the pair’s stolen glances and longing stares. 

masterlist

~ seven (part 1)

a/n: here she is!! sorry if she's a bit late huhuuu i went in a different direction than originally planned bc i saw the potential in friends to lovers also i wanted more of that mutual respect and admiration. and im a sucker for idiots yearning for each other. once again i experimented with writing styles. pls feel free to spew feedback :) 

warnings: horrible ending (my apologies in advance, my English is not that great), annoyed family, agonizing amounts of mutual pining with no resolution (at least not yet), benedict bridgerton (his cuteness deserves its own warning, proceed with caution)

August 13, 1801

Dearest Benedict, 

Oh, how I wish you could be here. The word beautiful would be an insult to such magnificence as this. My mother continues to describe Venice as lovely but I fear the English language has yet to create a word to encapsulate the awe I am feeling for every breath I take here. There is so much scenery for the eyes to feast on, I fear I may be blinded. No doubt that you, the incredible painter that you are, could spend an entire lifetime here and never stop. When I am not reading or strolling about the gardens and statues, I think of you. I think of how you would love it here. I think of how you would see it, through those artistic eyes of yours. How you would wax poetic about every single blade of grass. How I would still be enraptured by your words.

I do hope you never get bored of my rambling. I am buzzing with anticipation of every letter from you and news of Mayfair. As much as I love home, excitement flows through the air in Venice so I have much to tell you in the coming days. I send your family all my love. Send me any of your poetry, how I treasure them so. 

With love, 

Y/n 

Every morning of the summer of his fifteenth year, Benedict Bridgerton awoke bright and early with one purpose in mind: to await the letters from his most cherished friend, Y/n L/n, whose family had decided to travel across Europe once more. And usually, everywhere Y/n went, Benedict followed like a lost puppy but as it was, his parents drew the line at following her all the way to Venice. Benedict had never been separated from her for such a long time before, and so, whenever he was not reading or awaiting her letters, he spent his time moping. 

And every morning of the past two months, the thunderous rumbling of Benedict's shoes dashing down the stairs had served as the alarm for the awakening of his family. Not because they wanted to, mind you, but rather because every morning, Benedict eagerly sprinted down the stairs with no regard for the other occupants of the house. Every step he took boomed like an earthquake throughout the staircase. When he awoke, everyone else followed suit.

Upon landing on the first floor, Benedict inquired with the maids and footmen and upon realizing that no letters had been delivered yet, he sulked his way to the drawing-room and flung himself on the sofa, waiting in sour suspense.

The family consensus was that the sooner Y/n returned, the better. In the meantime, Benedict was not to be reminded of anything related to her, which proved to be no small task since Benedict spent every waking moment hopelessly pining for his dear friend. And while he always referred to her as his ‘dearest friend’, almost all of Mayfair knew he meant ‘queen of his heart’. 

He brightened whenever she walked into a room but dimmed when she left. When Y/n spoke, Benedict listened with all his senses captivated by her. His eyes naturally gravitated toward her, finding her in every soiree and smiling when he did. He kept every little memento of their time together from flower pressings to books they read to each other. On top of all that, all of his sketchbooks were filled to the brim with drawings and sketches of Y/n’s features. Her eyes. Her smile. Her lips. Her hair. Her hands. Even more so now that she was gone since Benedict took irrational measures to ensure he would never forget her lovely face. 

While she was there, his pining was only tiresome. The staring. The gazing. The sketching. But with Y/n gone, it became unbearable. 

So when her latest letter arrived a few hours later during breakfast, the entire family breathed a humongous sigh of relief. For now, Benedict was satisfied. Lord and Lady Bridgerton share glances at each other, reminiscing their own lovestruck youth. Anthony and Colin sport matching looks of smug smirks, no doubt to tease their middle brother once they corner him after the meal. On the other hand, Daphne and Eloise search their older brother’s expression for a sign of what was on his mind. Would his pining grow worse? Would the sisters have to vacate the premises to escape him? 

But all of his family's reactions fade away as he tears through the soft, creamy envelope that bore subtle hints of Y/n’s distinct floral scent. His eyes rapidly devoured the contents of the paper. With every word lovingly written in her handwriting, Benedict could hear her melodious voice speaking in his ear. So far, her family was touring Venice at the moment. He reread the letter three times before letting out a breath, tracing the closing words at the edge of the page.

With love, Y/n 

Her salutations always changed like the weather depending on the events of her day, the urgency of her writing, or the ardor of her spirit, but her farewell remained the same: 

With love, Y/n

Benedict couldn’t help himself but let a giddy smile spread across his face. He brought his hand to cover up his face and looked down but with how wide he was grinning and how bright his eyes were shining, it was no use. Everyone around the table could see it. Who knows, Y/n could probably see it all the way in Venice (if she looked hard enough). 

Without another word, Benedict rushes out of the room. His stomping shoes disrupt the quiet of the otherwise peaceful meal. Everyone, sans Colin who eyed his brother's half-eaten breakfast, followed Benedict with their eyes as he sprinted his way to his room. No one had to ask. They all knew what he was doing. 

"Mother, what is that saying about love and how irrational one acts without it?", Daphne asks from the end of the table with a curious albeit teasing tone.

Eloise pipes up across her, "Oh, I know! I know! I am stupider without the other half of my brain" 

A booming laugh erupts from Lord Bridgerton, who always appreciated Eloise's snark (no matter how much her mother disapproved). 

"Eloise, we do not call other people stupid" Lady Bridgerton reprimands her daughter. After a second she adds as an afterthought, "No matter how irrational they may be acting" 

Snickers and chuckles ripple through the table. Not necessarily directed at Benedict only, though all of the family could agree that he was nonsensical nowadays. 

"But Mama, what is the saying?" Daphne asks once more. 

Lord Bridgerton reaches for his wife's hand and looks into her eyes before answering, "The saying, darling Daphne, is that absence makes the heart grow fonder" 

As he declared those words, upstairs, Benedict was rummaging for paper to pen his reply. The world fades out again as all he thinks of is seeing Y/n again. How will their reunion be? When will it be? Has she changed? Will their friendship change? Will they still be friends? 

He brushed those thoughts away. All that matters now was the letter at hand. He writes as if at any moment he is to be struck by lightning, quick and frenzied, all the words pouring like water as he scrambles to collect his most important thoughts. I miss you, he writes twice. No matter how forward that may seem, it does not make it any less true. He misses her, with his heart and soul. 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.  

Oh, indeed. 

Two days later and nearly a thousand miles away, Y/n L/n was pacing back and forth along one of the most breathtaking villas she’s ever seen. But her breathing came in shallow and ragged puffs of air. Her clip-clopping footsteps were short and hurried. Her eyesight was growing so blurry she could not even appreciate the view before her, too preoccupied with the scrambling thoughts buzzing in her head.

You see, five days earlier, Y/n had sent another letter to her friend Benedict Bridgerton and the consequences of her actions had finally caught up to her. Their correspondence may seem insignificant, perhaps mundane, but it is a given rule by the Ton that unmarried ladies cannot write to unmarried gentlemen. 

And though neither of them was considered out in society yet, their letters may still be considered quite scandalous, especially coming from respectable families. Especially if her words were taken out of context. 

Dearest Benedict, 

With love, Y/n

If the Ton, or heaven forbid her mother, ever got ahold of her letters, both their families would be shunned from society. It would break her family’s heart to see her undone, all before she could be presented before the queen. And Y/n could never forgive herself if she were the cause of the tarnishing of the Bridgerton name.  

But maybe she’s getting ahead of herself. 

She breathes in, sitting down on a bench while she collects her bearings. 

Benedict has proven time and time again that he can be trusted with her innermost thoughts and secrets. She’s sure that he would never let anyone read their private letters, seeing as they were written and read for their eyes only. He would never betray her like that. 

She breathes out, but then new questions sprout into her mind. 

What would the recipient himself think of the letters? 

Was she too irritating? Too conceited? Was she too forward? How would Benedict see her then? If he thought of the letter as romantic? Would he be disgusted? Would he turn her away? Would he disregard their friendship? 

But among all the loud booming voices of her anxieties, a little one in the back of her mind asked, what does it matter what he thinks? 

Well, Y/n tried to reason to herself, Benedict was her friend. It is normal to seek approval from a friend. To know what they think of you, if they think of you with as high a regard as you do for them. It is also normal to miss your dear friend. To look at the stars outside your window and wonder if they are looking at the same ones. To recall the sound of their laughter, playing it in a loop in your head every night before you sleep. To yearn for a simple touch. To ponder their thoughts and to lament the distance between you. To ache for their words, so much so that you wake every dawn to await every letter. Like she had every day since her travel started. 

That was normal, right? 

She could miss her friends in Mayfair. She misses Eloise and her poorly concealed snorts of laughter. She misses Penelope and her shrewd eye. She misses Daphne and her devoted sensibility.  But Benedict… 

Her yearning for Benedict is different. Different in a way that she cannot describe yet. She set her eyes on the view before her, pondering how she could paint her feelings in words. 

All she knows is that… her longing(?) for his companionship runs deeper. Sadder. Lonelier. More than any longing she feels for anyone else at home. 

Home 

Benedict is home.

Now, where did that thought come from? 

It is true though, the little voice in her head insists. When she thinks of home, she thinks of the green, green grass of the Bridgerton estate. The hustle and bustle of their home. How quiet her house is compared to theirs. How her eyes search for Benedict in every room only to find him staring and smiling back at her. She thinks of Benedict. Everything reminding her of home reminds her of him. His smile. His laugh. His eyes. 

Now that kind of thinking… that is not so normal. 

But that doesn’t have to mean anything, does it? 

Unless… 

Unless what? The little voice in her head will not quiet down. 

Unless…

Oh. 

Oh 

Nearly two months later, Benedict found himself the past three days sitting in front of the windowsill as his eyes scanned every passing carriage, trying to discern every passenger. His razor-sharp focus distracted him from his repeatedly bouncing leg. A tic that was slowly driving everyone in the room insane. More insane than all of his hopeless pining. 

Now, why has Benedict been situating himself to the window? 

The answer to that lies folded in his hands. Three mornings ago, Y/n wrote to him with only seven words. 

Dear Benedict, 

I'm coming home. 

Love, Y/n 

Whump! 

The sound made when Y/n ran into Benedict’s arms. He spun her around a few times with a smile on his face and his nose buried in her neck. 

Thump! 

The sound made when they tumbled to the ground. 

In Y/n’s defense, what else do you expect her to do when she sees the object of her affections for the first time after a whole summer? And what else was Benedict supposed to do? Not welcome the girl- nay, woman- he loves with literal open arms? 

Y/n laughs at the sudden fall. At least before she realizes that she is on top of Benedict. And before she realizes that he has been silently staring at her the whole time. Have his eyes always been this blue? Like the sea after the storm? 

She looks into his eyes, lost in them, unable to say a word. Her tongue is tied because everything she wants to say cannot be said yet. It would not only be awkward but improper as well to say them at a time like this. 

I miss you. 

I miss you. 

I miss you.

I’m sorry it took me eight years to realize I am in love with you. 

Before the impromptu staring contest can continue, Benedict clears his throat and remembers where they are, breaking Y/n’s trance. She stands up and extends her hand to him and he takes it. When he finally stands up, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he brings it to his lips and plants a lingering kiss on her hand. All while looking at her with his piercing gaze. 

Y/n grows warm with a mixture of giddiness and surprise. Benedict had never kissed her in any way before and her heart soared at the new show of affection. She wouldn’t have minded if he did it again at some point. She smiles dopily before directing her eyes to the ground, thankful that they weren’t in public but standing before the grand entryway of the Bridgerton House. 

“I take it that you missed me, then?” Benedict asks coyly. 

Did he read my mind? I- 

“What gave me away?” Y/n answers much too quickly. 

“Nothing really. I just guessed from the look on your face before you tackled me to the ground” He has the audacity to smirk. Oh, Lord. 

"Wha- Tackle? I di- I-I did not tackle you to the ground." Y/n retorts, trying to maintain at least some of her dignity. 

“Oh, really? What would you call it then?” He really is smug today, adorable bastard.

Y/n doesn’t resist utilizing some of her newfound knowledge, “Well, the Italians would call it a cadere or a tumble.”

Benedict slowly crosses his arms, “My, my, my. Are you showing off, dear Y/n? Didn’t know you had it in you. Your travels have changed you.” 

She straightens her spine a little more and raises her chin, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze. 

“Summer has changed me." She continues, "Though I will admit that the travels were a great contributing factor. Do you know how incredible it is to witness such beauty?” She asked sincerely, her eyes softening. 

Looking at Y/n, with her hair illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the window, creating a halo around her head. With her small smile playing on her lips whenever she spoke to him, with her flushed cheeks from all the excitement, looking more like an angel every day. He smiled. I do know. 

Just then, Lady Bridgerton came in. 

“Ah, I thought I heard your voice! And I see that Benedict is already stealing all of your company away.” 

“Mother, please do not spread lies like that. Daphne or Colin might hear you” 

“But I did hear Y/n’s voice. And here she is. That is no lie, Benedict”, Lady Bridgerton is nothing but accustomed to any of her son’s shenanigans. 

“What I meant was, I didn’t steal Y/n. I am the one she came to see anyway.” He smugly regains his composure while Y/n darts her eyes between mother and son frantically. 

She exclaims a bit louder than she intended, “Good morning, Lady Bridgerton! Forgive me for not greeting you sooner!” She curtsies a little too hurriedly that she stumbles but Benedict is there to hold her arms to steady her before she falls down again. 

“Good morning to you too, Miss L/n. Will you join us for tea? Maybe regale us with tales of your travels? Benedict might benefit from it since he is yet to go on his Tour…” Lady Bridgerton is also nothing if not clever. 

Y/n looked at Benedict standing beside her, a playful quirk emerging on the corner of her lips. “I would be honored to”, she answered, never taking her eyes off him.

“Now, was this before or after you fell into a lake?” Benedict asks before taking a sip of tea. 

Y/n’s eyes widen as she turns her head, checking to see if anyone within the vicinity heard Benedict’s words. She slowly turns to look at him to find him hiding his smirk with a cup of tea. Somewhat infuriated, she grabs the side of his shirt to pull him close enough so she could whisper into his ear, “I wrote that to you in confidence.” 

He continues sipping his tea with a smirk, “Y/n, there is no one here beside us. Thankfully, my mother took the hint that two friends should be allowed to catch up with supervision.” 

Y/n shrugs and blinks at her teacup, tilting her head, then taking a sip. “I suppose that is fair.” 

Benedict claps his hands twice to direct her attention to him again. “Well then, now that is out of the way. Continue with tales of your travels, dear Miss L/n. How does it feel to be a lady of culture?” 

“Correction: a woman of culture”, she corrects him. 

“Now that you are a woman of culture, do you still hold a love for Mayfair? For England?”, Benedict pouts. 

Y/n looks at him affronted and starts passionately, “Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do. My family passed by the Lake District just about North of here and oh Benedict, it’s just-” 

She sighs and closes her eyes, then snaps out of her trance and- 

Gasp

Slightly mortified, Y/n continues, “Well, now that I think about it, maybe you should not go there”

She quickly becomes unusually quiet. Sipping her tea and taking dainty bites off the plate of biscuits, refusing to look Benedict in the eye.

“And why ever not? What could possibly taint your perspective? After all your praise in your letters?", Benedict asks. 

Y/n sighs before continuing, “If you must know, it is because upon exploring, I found the lakes where all the poets went to die. And no scenery, no matter how exquisite, is worth you dying”

Benedict is stunned silent, his jaw hanging open. He closes and opens his mouth repeatedly to form words but nothing comes out until-

“You overestimate my abilities, dear Y/n. I am not nearly as great an artist as you think I am”, he says, trying to mask his insecure words with a small smile.

Y/n is having none of that. She faces him, finding his eyes and unabashedly staring into them to prove her point. 

“And I think you do not believe in yourself, not nearly half as much as I do. Benedict, you have more creative talent in a single eyelash than I do in my entire body. Why can't you see tha-" 

Benedict drops his cup down and takes her face into his warm hands so she cannot look away from his gaze. She represses a shiver, not that he notices.  

“Now see, that is where I draw the line. Do not diminish yourself, Y/n. Not for anybody. Not for your mother, your father, and most certainly not for me” 

She meets his gaze head-on with a steady stare of her own and holds onto his wrists. Both of them are stubborn and unwilling to concede. They remain that way for a while. With his hands on her face. Her hands around his wrists. Gazing into each other's eyes. Trying to harden their stare, instead finding the other's eyes softening. After God knows how long, it is Benedict who breaks the silence. 

"Sit for me."

Whatever words Y/n was expecting, it was certainly not that. 

"I beg your pardon?", she asks. 

"If you truly, truly believe in my artistry-"

"I do" 

"Then sit for a painting. My painting If you don't mind", he pleads. 

"...But why me?"

"Why ever not you, Y/n, have you ever seen your face in a mirror?" 

Y/n grows more and more flustered, but she refuses to let it show. 

"Why me? Why not your sisters? Or your mother? Or any other beauty of Mayfair?", she rambles. 

"You're the only beauty of Mayfair"

"Don't let Daphne hear you say that"

Benedict whines exasperated that she is not taking this seriously. 

"I want to paint you. Just you, Y/n. Just you." 

She stills and mulls it over, taken aback by his solemnity.

There's no harm to it really. All I have to do is sit still and look pretty. Maybe talk to him a bit. Talking to Benedict is always easy. Maybe watch him paint. See the cute little scrunch of his nose when he concentrates- Y/n, focus! 

"I would be honored", she finally rewards him with a large grin. 

He breathes out, a smile gracing his lips. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this" 

“What on Earth do I do with my hands?”, Y/n asked as she fidgeted into her seat in front of the window. 

Just moments ago, she walked around the room in frantic steps with all her hair flying about. Her eyes were wild with panic and slight anxiousness. Her hands trembled as she adjusted her dress, minute to minute. To anyone looking at her and only her, she might have appeared as somewhat of a mad woman. But to Benedict, he saw the love of his life his best friend being herself. 

“Well, I would suggest folding them in your lap but I know that you cannot sit still for a single minute without moving”, Benedict really shouldn’t be looking that pleasing pleased while wearing a smirk. 

“Would you rather I wring your neck with my hands around it?!”  

Then, he starts laughing. 

Laughing. 

This bastard-

“Benedict!” 

He chuckles, wheezing, before answering, “Am I wrong though?” 

“Christ, Benedict, do you want your painting or not?”, she asks, trying to hide a smile. 

“Well, I do, but I still want my muse to be comfortable”

Y/n’s cheeks grow warm at the words muse.  

“What do you suggest I do then? About my hands?”, for emphasis she flails her arms a little too madly, nearly causing Benedict to burst into fits of laughter again. She smiles widely at the little amused shake of his head. 

“Do whatever feels natural, Y/n”, he sits less formally. “Even if it means you look like a confused flamingo” 

She gasps, affronted. “Aren’t your subjects supposed to stay still for you to= I don’t know- capture their features clearly?” 

“Oh please, Y/n, you need not worry about that. I know your features quite well, I’ve been staring at them for the past eight years” 

How on Earth is he saying these things so casually? He’s been staring at me? 

Wait, that’s normal for friends. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you goose.

“.....Y/n?”, Benedict asks after she’s been too quiet for long. 

“Hmm?”, she shakes her head out of her trance. 

“As I said, what would feel comfortable for you?”, he leans back on his chair and grabs his paintbrush. 

“Benedict, you need me to sit still and I want your painting to be good and quite frankly it is taking everything in me right now not to pace back and forth but how can you paint me if I move about?” 

“...Would you like to take a walk?” 

Y/n smiles, “I love to walk”

“I know you do” 

“Mother, we have to do something. This is agonizing”, said Colin, as the rest of the Bridgerton clan watched Benedict paint Y/n after their equally nauseating walk.    

“Agonizing? My, my, Colin, how you exaggerate”, replied Lady Bridgerton to her third son as she exchanged glances with her husband. 

“Oh no, Mother, for once I agree with my brother on this one. You should have seen them when they first saw each other this morning. It was pure agony”, Eloise piped in, standing next to Colin. 

“You were watching them, El?”, asked Anthony with a teasing tone. 

“No, I was not! I just caught Ben staring at Y/n with hearts in his eyes. It makes me want to vomit just looking at them, my god!”

Daphne quips from the piano, “At least Y/n is discreet about her affection.” 

“Y/n? Discreet? HA! Look at them right now!”, Anthony exclaims. 

All of their heads turned to the scene before them: Benedict carefully painting Y/n’s hands as she scribbled at her notebook and Y/n sneaking little glances at the little scrunch of Benedict’s nose and smiling to herself. 

“Does Benedict truly not notice?”, Colin asks. 

Eloise answers, “He is too caught up in his painting of her and I quote, ‘pretty hands’”

“He really said that?”, Daphne asks. 

Anthony sighs and rolls his eyes, “We’ve all seen his sketchbook. If he didn’t say it, we know he’s thinking it.” 

Colin questions, “Does Y/n know about the sketchbook?”

“If she did, they would be engaged by now”, Daphne replies. 

“I beg your pardon, Daph, but I don’t think so. Y/n would never interpret the sketchbook as ‘affection’”,  Anthony quips. 

“Well, what would she interpret as his affection?” 

Anthony answers, “Nothing unless he drops to his knee and proposes” 

Colin rolls his eyes, “God, she’s oblivious”

“I’m starting to wonder if she’s blind. I mean, no woman is this dense”, Eloise exclaims. 

“And I’m wondering what dramatics have taken over my children this fine morning!” Lord Bridgerton asks the room, causing his family to turn to him. 

Anthony starts, “Father, do not tell me that you can stomach more of this hopeless pining from both of them-”

“When we could end it right now!”, continues Eloise. 

“I’m sorry, children, but this is a moment that the pair must realize on their own”, Lord Bridgerton calmly replies. 

“But this is torture!”, exclaims Colin. 

Lady Bridgerton speaks up, “One day, we will laugh at all this. Maybe at their wedding even, but until then, you are not to say a word about either party’s feelings for each other, understood?” 

…

Reluctantly, all siblings reply, “Yes, Mother.”

“Thank you, and who knows? Maybe Y/n and Benedict will experience this torture when one of you starts their season” 

Collective groans ensue. 

TAGLIST (everyone who requested a part 2):

@severewobblerlightdragon @samkysnks @crimesolvin @stopimtryingtoreid @ivettt @liahaslosthermind @idli-dosa-reblogs @canpillowscry

#benny bridgerton my beloved <3 #queue me up scotty #yeng speaks #yeng's folklore #yeng's alcove #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton #luke thompson #bridgerton siblings #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton one shot #benedict bridgerton dialogue #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #violet bridgerton

[golbrocklovely]

you know, I thought i might of been annoying with the amount of asks i send you, and that still might be true but people apparently love me… so im sticking around 😂 gotta build this aussie anon fandom… buy the merch (its just a tshirt with koala ears on the anon icon and ‘xplr me daddy’ across the shoulder blades)

also absolute fkn ditto to your post abt snc needing a villain era. especially colby. I learnt just the other day that apparently he goes thru this m drama every time he’s snapped with a girl. like every time, for years. that’s gotta be so horrible. like imagine being the constant reason your friends or dates get harassed online just for being around you. you’d feel like poison. i truly hope he finds someone who couldnt give two flying quacks abt that stuff. heck, if it were me (lemme dream, alright) and i knew this wasn’t just a once off thing… i was going to say my acct would be private and i’d have ‘message from strangers’ turned off… but i already have all that… Colby, I’m ready!!! lmao i jk i jk (or do I 👀)

anyway, back to colby fighting in the clubs. you said he’s possessive… im curious about that. like in a protective way over the people he cares about, or actually like “this is my person, back off” type? either way, hella shmexxyy

- aussie anon

omg this is such a long response so i'm sorry in advance lol

haha no you're totally okay to keep sending in asks. no one has a problem with it, especially me :)

and omg an "xplr me daddy" shirt would be hysterical and i'm surprised they haven't done one (even jokingly) before lol

and yes, it's not just girls colby is interested in either. it's EVERY girl - date, friend, stranger - it doesn't matter. if fans can find out who she is, they will send her hate. or at the very least bombard her with questions as to how she knows colby, what's he like, ect. it's honestly very embarrassing to be in this fandom sometimes strictly bc of that type of shit.

i've talked about how i've felt on colby's love life ad nauseum on here, but i don't mind speaking on it more. i genuinely believe this fandom needs a HUGE reality check. bc there are too many ppl in this fandom that believe they have a say in what he does with said love life. and now it's bled over into sam's.

the golden child apparently can do wrong now lol

like on xplrclub, they literally APOLOGIZED (half-heartedly, but still said sorry) for the pics of them with the girls leaking over new years. and that's just fucking bonkers to me. there is no reason two 27 year old men should be saying sorry to a bunch of random girls they have never met before and don't even know exist bc they are going out and having fun and dating. and what makes it worse is snc felt the need to do this. they don't need to explain anything to us, especially about their private lives.

and the amount of fucking fans i saw saying "well if you wanted to have a private life, keep it private. don't post things." and it's like…… idk how many times i have to say this, but SNC ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS. them not telling you about a girl they are fucking with is not a betrayal. they don't know you. they couldn't even pick you out of a line up of two ppl. stop thinking your opinion is neccessary, especially when it comes to their personal lives. you aren't owed an explanation. idc if you've been in this fandom for years, given them tons of money, have a fan account dedicated to them on every site, repost their content all the time - NONE of that matters. you are a random person, you are a statistic. a view count. and while yes, snc care about us, that doesn't mean they KNOW you or that your opinion is VALID.

you wouldn't like a random person coming onto your account and bitching at you about your life choices, right? so why do you think snc deserve that? bc they're public figures? NOPE, not a good enough reason. you want to bitch at them about content and the choices they make on that? that's fine. but private, personal shit they do is none of your concern or business.

and i know there are plenty of fucking ppl that will call me a hypocrite bc god forbid i talk about snc's love lives - but reality is i know my opinion isn't worth shit. i'm not coming up into their comments, @ ing them every chance i get, just to give them my two cents. i do my best to keep it light hearted and silly. none of what i talk about is serious or direly needed info. which is also why i do it on a site they aren't privy to. they're not on here. me complaining into the void doesn't effect them. and i'm also extremely aware of the fact that i don't know everything. i don't know the full story, never will, and i'm not OWED it either.

sorry, that was a really long rant. but i'm just…. so done with the fandom rn lol i've been reading ppl complaining for too long about shit they don't deserve to complain about and it's just annoying at this point.

but to bring it back to your ask - i hope colby, and sam too, find a girl that fucking PARADES that she's dating him. of course, with colby or sam's consent. if i was dating one of them, i would rub in these fans' faces, and i mean that wholeheartedly. aww, you're upset i'm fucking your man? TOO BAD WOMP WOMP lmao

and as for colby being possessive, he's said it in some tweets in years' past. he's tweeted out before "Im such a protective, jealous person wow" and "I'm overly protective" followed by someone asking him "so that means if you had a girlfriend you'd protect her a lot" and he replied with "protect her with my life". so, i see him as being a very loyal person, who is protective of the ppl he deems as "his", so to speak.

in a relationship, my guess is that while he's not obsessive or demanding, he is very much like "you are my girlfriend". i don't see him to be the type to say you can't talk to this guy or be friends with these ppl, nothing like that. but he reads to me like the type to keep his arm around you while at the club, that way any guy that sees you know you're taken by him.

also side note, i know as a woman i should be like i'm my own person, i'm no one's but my own, blah blah blah. but a guy that's just a twinge bit possessive is hot. i'm sorry, it's my red flag and i know it is sksksks

#ask #personal #colby brock #sg ll #cb ll

[peachjuiceretriever]

♡ hiii this is my secret sideblog for all my detrans/misgen kink stuff! 💫 steph/stephie (real birth name)! / she+they+it pronouns! / im 25 i guess! / likes and follows from s**r**re*****er

i'll also talk about my own personal life and experience with gender expression and identity! its not JUST a sex blog sorry guys

i like sweets and video games and science and nature and being a bimbo ✨ ive been on T for 6+ years and had a double mastectomy back in 2019, but that doesn't mean im any less of a girl! i don't tag anything except for detrans kink stuff so don't expect me to!

dec. 2023 update: yea im probably gonna detransition lol <3 it'll be a slow process but i genuinely want to!!

[ will include noncon / rape / other problematic fantasies, you've been warned! ]

little bit more about me under the cut:

hi thanks for wanting to know more! 🩷 so this kink is very new to me. im still dipping my toes into it so please be patient with me when interacting! im also autistic so sometimes it might be hard to talk to me and i apologize in advance! but i do love making friends and interacting with people, and im a very joy/happiness-focused person so be warned i might be an annoying ray of sunshine towards you-

i hope you have a fun time on my blog! thank you again for checking it out! remember friends: your gender is valid. do not let anyone ANYONE take that away from you. express yourself however you choose. if you need to step away from a kink or a scene, do it. take care of yourself, please.

#detrans kink #i had an old one of these but guess what! #im fking addicted! #ftmtf kink #fakeboy

[asks-n-trolls]

Also!!

I want to apologize in advance if i've been flaky with anyone or in general!

Work all day and then i get annoyed so to cool down i play baldurs gate 3 and then before i know it its 2am andi have to go to bed to repeat the cycle!

if u ever wana do anything with characters we are shipped/involved with and feel like im not present enough and want to break em up please do not worry about upsetting me cus i wont be! just let me know <3

I will let eveyone else know ummm I love youuuu

#ooc post #also slowly chipping away at the raffle prizes dont think i forgot

[myunghology]

Hi, I'm just wondering because you do headcanons could you please maybe do Diluc, Xiao and Thoma with an s/o who has a fear of commitment? I think that'd be really interesting and I'd love to see what you'd do with it if you want.

Your writing is amazing, & have a good rest of your day/night !! Thanks in advance if you do it !!

diluc, xiao and thoma with a s/o that has a fear of commitment!

a/n : I'M GONNA CRY UR SO NICE do not play w me alr.. my class is starting soon so i apologize if this is short, i had to google what commitment is for this.. gn! reader.

requests : opened!

now diluc is a person im sure you could trust, and would never want to hurt you, he understands that you have trouble especially if it's something from the past that you can't get your mind out of.

very protective of you! not to the point where he's possessive though, he just wants you to trust him with your life, as your boyfriend.

would listen to every word you say as he's doing something, no matter what it is im sure he'd listen to you.

he feels guilty for you because of your past relationships, friendships or even family problems, he's willing to give his full attention.

he's just a really nice person in general and wants you to feel safe, you could ask him if you wanted to talk about problems while hugging him and he'd gladly accept your offer.

even if he's working, he'll always find a way to make time for you. rubbing circles on your back now and then everytime you remember something toxic.

"it's fine, i surely do not mind, i want you to feel comfortable around me always, i may be busy, but i'll always listen to you whenever you need me."

now thoma, he's slightly confused about it but is actually understanding, you may feel like he doesn't have time for you because of serving for ayato, but the truth is, he's doing his best so he can see you sooner.

he is worried about you, but always asks for advice from ayato or ayaka, they just told him that he needed to give you more space to open up to him with a smile.

he cooks for you as well, takes care of you amazingly, he sometimes wonders if he's doing too much. but it's worth it he says, to see a nice smile on your face and to see if he's got your trust already.

you two go on walks in inazuma to relieve anything negative that's on your mind, sitting below a tree with cats around you both, thoma knitting sweaters for the cats while you feed them while smiling.

the sound of knitting filled your ears as you looked at your boyfriend, "are you alright now? i hope you are. you could always talk to me about anything." he said with a smile, you nodded your head. you swore you could see the kamisato siblings behind a tree.

now xiao.. he doesn't understand in the nicest way possible im sorry LMFAO, but he tries his best as well.

going to his trusty old morax for advice just like how thoma did, zhongli asked him to sit down and enjoy some tea with him while he explains.

xiao asked a lot of questions about it, which made zhongli happy. he wasn't usually like this, well, for a mere mortal,

also very busy, probably the bussiest out of all of them, he usually comes back late, but makes it up with ordering your favorite food.

everytime you ask to talk about your problems, he looks like he's annoyed but he actually doesn't mind, he's actually quite happy.

listens to every single bit of it, staring at you maybe too hard. also very protective of you, everywhere you go your hands are always locked together.

"well, i don't really get this mortal thing, but i'd like to help you somehow. for everything you'd for me." he murmured under his breath.

#diluc x reader #thoma x reader #xiao x reader #genshin diluc #genshin impact thoma #genshin xiao #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact

[the-sinners-paradise]

if it's possible i want to request nazuna, ritsu and souma with an idol s/o that used to be someone they look up to, thank you in advance!

» im wondering... does the "used to" play any in part in this? fufu, guess we'll see!! enjoy, anon! ☆

prompt: w/ an idol s/o that used to be someone they looked up to

character(s): nazuna nito, ritsu sakuma, souma kanzaki

pairing(s): all of the above ↑ x gn! reader

warnings: N/A, fluff

☆ — NAZUNA NiTO !!

even after ending up with you, nazuna was still concerned about the fact his feelings for you might be "fake" due to him being a fan of you. it's why he tried his hardest to be the best boyfriend he could be.

it takes him awhile to finally realize that there was nothing more he wanted than to be with you, and not because of some silly fan obsession.

realizing all your flaws and weakness, dealing with them and helping you through them, was what made it click. idol or not, you were a regular person just like him and he shouldn't treat you any different.

ever since he came to terms with that, he's been a lot more easy going. he's accepted your love for him more willingly and was happy to show you how much he cared as well.

even then, he still replays some of your songs and music videos whenever he's feeling lonely.

nazuna has made subtle implications of you into his songs as well. you were more than happy to respond with the same subtlety, too. no one ever really found out, because you two were from different units.

he still sees you as an impressive person, the light to his life, but he doesn't prioritize you over himself anymore. you two were equals.

☆ — RiTSU SAKUMA !!

ritsu never lost that weird sort of fan attitude, although it wasn't particularly noticeable in the first place. he liked your music and went to your concerts, but stayed pretty quiet about it.

despite all of the fan attitude, you felt as if he treated you like a normal person due to his overall casual attitude. he would joke, mess around and overall act as if he was with any of those close to him.

ritsu fell out of your music after growing closer to you, though it wasn't because anything turned him away from it, but more so because now he had the actual you with him.

he continued to support you with all that he could, but he preferred to spend the chilly nights with you in bed than have to go to a packed concert hall and listen to everyone scream for a couple of hours.

he's volunteered as one of your backup dancers multiple times. you've refused most of the offers, but are slowly warming up to the idea.

ritsu likes to annoy others about being your boyfriend, but he only does it in a playful way. if you told him to quit it, he immediately would.

he keeps bugging you about making a duet together.

☆ — SOUMA KANZAKi !!

the entire reason souma even got involved with you was because of the lyrics to your songs. no kidding, there were things that bugged him and he went to you and said them outright.

although a little hurt by it, you valued his honesty and you two grew way closer than you actually expected.

souma remained a casual listener to your music, though at one point started offering help with writing the lyrics as well. he was incredibly skilled at it, so he found it hard not to. still, he did assure you that he adored everything about your music.

in fact, a lot of his favorite songs were some of the ones you put your heart and soul into without him butting in. he made sure to tell you that plenty of times.

he has apologized profusely any time you bring it up. he never means any harm by it, he's just used to a completely different genre of music than you are.

souma's incredibly proud of you. he's not an avid listener, but he likes to show off how well you're doing, especially to his friends. he's really happy with you.

you never changed your style, but started doing the same thing he did as well, ending up in a big inside joke between the two of you.

#sin thinks that... #ensemble stars #enstars #enstars x reader #enstars x y/n #enstars x you #nazuna nito #ritsu sakuma #souma kanzaki #nazuna nito x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader #souma kanzaki x reader

[schizopositivity]

Hey there! Apologies if you don't have a good answer to this, but you seem trustworthy enough. I'm not schizophrenic but I am an author attempting to write a schizophrenic character. I'm looking for good resources to learn about the disorder that aren't drenched in sanism, but I'd like an actual schizophrenic person's opinion on the matter since I don't know enough to determine good sources on my own.

Mostly I need info on writing from this character's perspective, and generally the kinds of things to not include in the story. Thanks in advance,

-H

this is my copy and pasted answer ive given mulitple times, please dont take other peoples experiences to feul your story either, please read this whole thing and actually consider it.

respectfully, no. i have made posts on this blog in the past about how i hate people calling my posts "writing inspo", and a post on how i wish all nonschizophrenics/nonpsychotics would stop writing stories or creating media based on our actual experiences for a few reasons. 1. no amount of research or listening to other peoples experience will be equal to you having lived experience with schizophrenia/psychosis. 2. if you dont have experience with this highly stigmatized disorder you are likely to perpetuate harmful stereotypes even with good intentions (tropes i hate like "the schizophrenic is evil" "the schizophrenic is some kind of savant" "it seems like magic but it was just psychosis the whole time" or "it seems psychosis but it was magic the whole time"). 3. if you are writing about something you have no experience in it will likely be very shallow or untrue to the actual experience. 4. why should i take time to help you so that you can benefit from my experience while i get nothing in return? i think of it like a straight person asking a queer person for free advice for their queer main character, or a rich person asking for free advice from a poor person on their experiences. i have seen time and time again nonschizophrenic/nonpsychotic people telling the stories of my experience and getting it wrong and profiting from it and im tired and will not help anyone do this ever it goes agaisnt my personal beliefs. us schizophrenics do write our own stories but you can never find it because it hidden underneath countlesd stories of people who have no idea what they are talking about. i dont want to be mean but i get this question a lot and it annoys me. write about anything else.

why do you feel the need to write this story? why do you think you have the power to portray schizophrenia in a way that isnt harmful to actual schizophrenics? how is it mutually beneficial for the schizophrenics youre taking the descriptions of experiences from? how can you see this as true for gender or sexuality but not for schizophrenia (a dinenfranchised minotrity)? why wont you make room for actual schizophrenics when most of our stories are written by people with no experience? i know i cant stop you but i wonder why you would even feel the desire to do this in the first place? i get this kind of ask a lot and to me, people obsessing about my disorder so much so they feel the need to write about and to me personally it gives off a vibe of fetishizing or savoir complex to think you have the power or duty to write our stories for us.

most people get upset, try to argue or ignore me after i say these things. so if youre going to do that id like to once again ask: who would this story be for? why would you still write it after an actual schizophrenic person tells you its not okay to do? and isnt there enough (sooo many) stories about schizophrenics created by nonschizophrenics? what could you, a nonschizophrenic, add that would be of any value to anyone?

#answered #please stop asking me i get this so often especially in dms #like no ive made myself clear #i dont even owe you an explanation #its wild to me how people never do this about me being butch lesbian or enby or dyslexic or literally anything else #nonschizophrenics either hate or are weirdly obsessed with us and idk whats worse

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 The Miracle of Living Pt.2 - Lita

In this world we're just beginning To understand the miracle of living

Lmao I had you in the first half, this is not just a cutesy slice of life family AU and actually gets fucking awful and tragic from here on out, you have been warned. This was originally meant to be a single story but I decided to chunk it into two halves just so it's not unreadably long, which means ALL the suffering gets to be consigned into whatever this is. Anyway, see other part for author notes and shit, apologies in advance xo

Summary: Adore is an adult now, and life is simpler for Bianca. Until an unexpected tragedy shatters her world, and her relationship with her daughter. 

TW: Major character deaths, parental loss, accidental overdose, suicidal thoughts

[1] NEW MESSAGE Ben Putnam ✨🏳️‍🌈 12/9/46 19:08  jinkx is about to call you freaking tf out - don’t listen to them, im basically fine. got into an accident driving home, i look kinda banged up and i think my shoulders dislocated but nothing serious. pls call adore and tell her - if she says shes gonna ditch her concert or anything like that dont let her, she doesnt need to worry. if ur not busy and feel like coming to see me id like that (and i think jinkx could use some moral support lol, theyre taking this harder than i am) but don’t let j convince u that im on my deathbed. love ya, bitch! b xoxo

*****

November 12th, 2046

“Bea…”

Jinkx stands up as Bianca enters the waiting room. Their voice is cloying - too sickly. Too sympathetic.  

Of all of Ben’s various partners since the divorce, Jinkx was definitely Bianca’s favorite. Bianca had been Ben’s maid of honor (or ‘cunt of dishonor’ as he’d affectionately christened her) at their wedding last spring. Jinkx is kind, sensitive - their eccentricities line up perfectly with Ben’s, they’re a good step-parent to Adore, as resistant as she’d been to having a step-parent. However, Jinkx under pressure is prone to amateur dramatics - Ben’s text prediction regarding the nature of their impending phone call had been totally spot-on. 

So Bianca is surprised to see that they look drained - not sad. Not scared. Just tired - their shock of red hair disheveled, eyes puffy and face moist with half-dried tears. Bianca grips the strap of her purse a little tighter. She hadn’t expected this. They had been all catastrophe and hysterics on the phone - sobbing like their life depended on it. Why are they so calm? 

Per Ben’s instructions, Bianca hadn’t dropped everything to go to him. She’d been working late, supervising a bunch of bored, annoyed teenagers doing stocktake - she hadn’t exactly bided her time, heading straight for the hospital as soon as she’d clocked out, but she also hadn’t exactly rushed. 

Two lanes of the freeway were closed because of a car wreck. She figured it wouldn’t be the same one - it couldn’t have been that bad if Ben was awake, coherent, and texting her. As the backed-up traffic crawled past the remains of the scene at five miles an hour, she’d tried not to look. She knew she shouldn’t have looked. But she looked anyway - she’d caught sight of the remnants of Ben’s car at the front of a pile-up, crushed from behind by a smoldering pickup truck, and felt the sting of vomit rising up at the back of her throat. The driver’s side door looked intact. That was something. Ben was fine. Ben had told her himself that he was fine. So Ben was fucking fine. 

On the drive to the ER, Bianca called Adore - anxiety twisting below her ribcage, visions of shattering glass and crumpling metal scorching into her eyelids every time she blinked, desperate for a distraction. The phone had been picked up by her weirdo manager, Winona or Wilma or whatever her name was, who’d decided that a call from her mom, regardless of the matter at hand, wasn’t important enough to bother Adore with before a gig, and had hung up. 

And now she’s been taken into a side room that feels like a fucking morgue, and Jinkx is acting so calm and kind that it’s nauseating. This feels weird. There’s a bible on the table in the middle of the room. What the fuck is happening? 

Jinkx reaches out, and pulls Bianca into an oppressively tight hug. Bianca squirms, determined to extricate herself from the stifling embrace and start asking questions. She’s never known Jinkx to act anything but weird, but this was bizarre even by their standards. When they break away, Jinkx takes Bianca’s hand. It sets her teeth on edge. 

“Jinkx, what’s going on?” Bianca’s voice comes out sterner than she would have liked. 

“Did you call Adore?”

What kind of fucking response is that?

“I tried. Her manager picked up - she’s at a gig, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” 

“I really think you should try and talk to her now.” 

Bianca really doesn’t like Jinkx’s tone. She also doesn’t know what to do with herself. She figured she was here as emotional support for Jinkx, who seems fine if a bit off-kilter and cryptic - or as a proxy for Adore, who was performing and/or wasted in Austin, enjoying the sudden and somewhat random success of her previously struggling music career. 

“Jinkx, where’s Ben? What happened?”

Jinkx grimaces. They try to convince her to sit down - urging her towards a ugly upholstered chair with their lips pursed. Bianca doesn’t move. 

“Jinkx.” Bianca repeats herself more insistently, folding her arms. Jinkx sits down, clenching their jaw and breathing shakily. “Where the fuck is Ben? I need to see him." 

“…he died, Bea.”

Bianca’s blood turns to ice in her veins. She takes a sharp breath in. 

“What do you mean he died?” Bianca’s voice is thin. Jinkx doesn’t say anything. “He texted me - he was fine like, an hour ago.” Jinkx stays silent. Bianca feels like she’s going to throw up. Why won’t they say anything?  “He’s- Jinkx, what do you mean he fucking died?”

“They thought he was fine,” Jinkx sniffs. “There were other people from the wreck who were hurt worse than he was - he kept saying he was okay so the doctors would focus on them, and then he coded out of nowhere. I think they said he was bleeding in his abdomen or something - nobody realized until it was too late. He was sitting up and talking to me, then he…” Jinkx stops, swallowing hard. Their eyes have welled up. 

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have tried to get here faster.” Bianca’s knees are shaking. She can’t move - can’t admit to the failure of her emotions. Frightening and all-consuming as they are. She’s still wearing her work lanyard, and it feels utterly stupid. Why hadn’t she just fucking left? Why had locking up a goddamn store she could burn to the ground without losing sleep been more important than this? Than Ben? 

“I didn’t know how to.” Jinkx won't make eye contact with her. “I couldn’t tell you over the phone - it didn’t feel right.” 

Bianca sits down before she collapses. Her hands are shaking. Her throat hurts like she needs to cry, but there are no tears. She isn’t crying, and she won’t - not until it’s essential. 

“But you were- you shouldn’t have waited all this time on your own. I would have been here sooner.” Bianca is barely able to talk. “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t even know what she’s talking for - trying to fill the awful, empty air with some sort of noise, even if it is wilted platitudes. She’s horribly aware of her own breathing; how hard it is, how much effort it’s taking, how it feels like she’s choking. It’s like she’s drowning in the air and the silence - like a goldfish dropped out of the bowl. 

Jinkx puts an arm around her shoulders. There are tears rolling down their cheeks. 

“I really think you should call Adore again.” 

Adore. Adore didn’t get to say goodbye - Adore didn’t fucking know. That was her fucking dad, and she loved him, and she’d never-

Bianca stops. Something in her brain ticks. A somber conversation at the kitchen table. 

“His, uh- his advanced directive. San Juni-whatever -  Cookie heaven-“ Bianca blurts out, ejecting the words as soon as they appear in her head. The comfort feels cold, but it’s comfort nevertheless. 

She looks at Jinkx. Their face has crumpled. They’re shaking their head. No. 

“They tried - it all happened too quickly, it didn’t work. He was gone before they could…” Jinkx bites their lip. “I’m sorry - I know how much it means- meant to him, I know he wanted…”  

Bianca shakes her head, trying to get Jinkx to stop talking. It isn’t fair - they’ve just lost their husband, and yet it’s them trying to comfort her?  

“It’s okay.” 

It’s not. But Jinkx rests their head on Bianca’s shoulder anyway, and Bianca takes their hand, even though she feels like she’s only making everything worse. What warmth is she capable of? Her presence isn’t doing anything besides forcing Jinkx to stir up their own raw emotions, and reminding them both of the cavernous space between them that Ben’s daughter should be filling. 

Bianca fumbles her phone out of her purse with her shaking hands as Jinkx cries a wet patch into her collar. She needs to call Adore.  

*****

November 24th, 2046

The silence in the kitchen is uncomfortable. Neither Adore nor Bianca knows how to fill it. Ben’s funeral was yesterday morning. Bianca doesn’t know if Adore is okay, but she doesn’t know what to say to her either. She hasn’t seen her cry yet. 

She’s exhausted. The last couple of weeks have been a terrible, sleepless headfuck. All of the funeral planning and formality had fallen into Bianca’s lap - Jinkx had been too distraught to try and think about it, and she couldn’t ask Adore. It was the only real help she’d been able to offer; if there’s one thing that Bianca knows for a fucking fact, it’s that she’s awful at providing comfort. But as usual, she’d taken too much on, and she hadn’t had time to process what had happened - time to grieve, or even just to fucking take a breath and figure out where her own head was at. 

Bianca feels hollow. And Adore won’t speak to her. She’s sitting at the dinner table, with her bright blue hair piled on top of her head in a sloppy ponytail, wearing some tattered band shirt that doesn’t really fit her, and she seems…fine. She’s been home since Ben died, but they’ve been floating around the empty house on two completely different planets; barely making eye contact with each other, let alone talking. There’s a mug of coffee turning cold in Bianca’s hand, and her daughter won’t meet her gaze. 

Adore fidgets with the hair-tie around her wrist. She looks nervous. 

“Listen, Mom-”

“Are you okay?” Bianca blurts out, and then cringes - Adore looks at her with frustration in her glazed-over eyes. 

“I need to tell you something.”

“What’s up?” Bianca tries to inject some warmth into her voice. 

“I know I said I’d stay for a little longer, but I’m…”

Oh god. Bianca already doesn’t like where this is going. She clenches her teeth, trying to contain the stupid, defeated little whimper she can feel rising into the back of her throat.

“I got a call from my manager this morning. My new single drops in a week, and there’s- this big-deal band wants me to open for them on their tour. It’s two months on the road, and I know that I shouldn’t- I mean, it’s a huge opportunity, and the money is really fucking good, and I’m…” Adore’s words are stilted and awkward. 

Bianca takes a second to compose herself. 

“When would you be leaving?” Bianca eventually says. It’s the most neutral question she can think of, and her words come out flat and unbothered. She can’t say what she really wants to - can’t beg her to stay, can’t argue back. Can’t take this from her. 

“Day after tomorrow,” Adore says to the floor, still wringing her hands awkwardly. 

“And why do you sound like you’re asking for permission to go?" 

“Because- I don’t know.” Adore says, equally lacking in emotion. It’s felt for the last couple of weeks like she and Bianca have just been going through the motions of their relationship without any feeling. “I mean- fuck, you’re my mom. And everything is just- I can’t leave you right now. If you said no, then I can’t...” 

“Why do I have to say no?” Bianca tilts her head. Her neck is stiff from the sleepless nights. 

“Because I don’t want to.”

That answer frustrates Bianca, and she can tell from Adore’s body language that she knows it. Adore picks at a loose thread on her shirt - she’s never been able to sit still. Bianca pinches the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not gonna be the bad guy, Dorey - even if you want me to. We’re talking about your career here - not doing it would be fucking stupid,” Bianca says, toneless and insincere again. She pauses. “Do they know that your dad just died?” 

“…No,” Adore grimaces. The first small twinge of emotion flashes across her face for a second, and then it’s gone. “They might give it to someone else. They’ll think I’m gonna be unstable or unreliable or something.”  

“Are you?”

“Maybe,” Adore purses her lips. “It’s kinda still not real. Maybe it’ll stay like that if I’m distracted.”

“And maybe it’ll get real when you’re on the road - you need to think about yourself.”

Adore murmurs something unintelligible by way of response, shakily trying to affirm that she can do it. Bianca stares into her coffee cup. They seem to have reached some level of nonverbal understanding that they’re not gonna talk about this any more. Adore is leaving tomorrow, and Bianca better make peace with that. 

“You’re not mad about me leaving you by yourself, are you?” Adore’s meek voice cuts through the icy reticence. 

“What? No - I’m a big girl, I’ll survive,” Bianca shrugs her shoulders. Why does Adore default to the assumption that she’s always mad? Why does she have to be the villain all the goddamn time? Can’t she just be upset? 

“But like…do you have friends?" 

“Yes, I have fucking friends, Adore.”

And then she thinks about it. Her family doesn’t give a shit, and Raja had broken things off with her a couple of weeks before Ben dropped dead out of fucking nowhere - and yeah, maybe she’s close enough with a couple of people from work that she’d be able to talk to them, but the thought makes her squirm.

She’d not so much asked Adore to stick around for a couple of weeks after the funeral as she had begged her to. The loneliness is choking her, and her daughter is the only person she can face - because they never really talked about their feelings, and even this wasn’t enough to make them start. She just needed someone to be quietly sad alongside. The more that she thinks about it, the more she realizes that the only person she wants to talk to about the pain inflicted by Ben’s death is Ben himself. 

Which she should be able to do. She’s grown more attached to the San Junipero concept than she ever wanted to be. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she’d gotten comfortable with the two of them never having to live without each other. Except that didn't work, and now he’s gone. Forever. 

Bianca had friends. A friend. She’d never needed anyone else, and so she’d never bothered trying to find them. She hadn’t planned for an eventuality in which he’d be dead by forty-six. 

Bianca is crying. Horrible, huge, ugly floods of tears. Adore looks nervous - like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. This isn’t fair. She can’t make Adore deal with her like this. But she can’t stop. Twelve days of awful emotional blockage are clearing themselves all at once, and Bianca’s face is soaking wet and there’s snot running down her chin, and she feels about as disgusting as she probably looks. Adore’s chair scrapes the tiled floor, and she’s standing behind Bianca - wrapping her arms around her, resting her sharp chin on Bianca’s shoulder. 

Adore’s body is starting to heave against hers, and as Bianca tries to blink through some of the blur to her vision and catch her trembling breath, she realizes Adore is crying too. Is this progress? 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, baby.” Bianca takes one of Adore’s hands in hers, running a thumb across her tattooed knuckles. “It’s okay - it’s okay to be sad.”

“I’m not sad.” Adore’s voice is thin. “And I have to go. I don’t want to be here. I can’t be here without him.”

Adore mutters the admission like it’s blasphemy, and Bianca doesn’t like it, but she knows. Ben’s ghost lingers in every brick and board and fiber of this house. It hurts - that she isn’t capable of being what Adore needs right now. But she understands. 

*****

June 7th, 2047

“Don’t fucking put that on me - don’t screw up my childhood and then keep making me miserable as a fucking adult, it’s not fair-" 

“Ob, cry me a fucking river - you had a great childhood!”

“Did I? Getting dragged up by some fucking idiot who didn’t know what she was doing-" 

“I was a fucking kid, Adore - I was trying my fucking best-” 

It’s dark outside. Bianca feels like shit. She wishes Adore hadn’t left. 

She hasn’t been able to sleep without sedatives since Ben died, and she hates it. She also doesn’t know why - she wasn’t there. It didn’t happen to her. It’s not her tragedy. She fishes the blister pack of xanax out of her purse and swallows one with the tail end of her glass of wine. Sleep. She needs sleep. She needs this shitty, awful, horrible day to be over. Maybe when she wakes up, Adore will be over her tantrum. 

She drops the pills on the kitchen counter. The last dregs of the wine are eyeing her up through the bottle. Bianca hesitates for a moment, refills her glass, and swiftly empties it down her throat. 

She walks through the empty living room, put off by the silence. It’s too quiet in this house. She wishes she hadn’t kept it. Ben deserved it more - he had a partner, and a good life, and hope for the future. Not the pathetic remains of half a dozen short-lived, shitty relationships, and a dead-end job. Adore loved him - she clearly can’t fucking stand Bianca. There would still be life in these walls if he’d taken it, and Bianca had hiked all her stupid clothes and coffee table books and vanity and venom to a crappy bachelor apartment.

It was Ben’s fucking house - it was his career that had paid for it. Bianca felt sick enough with guilt and frustration that he’d insisted she stayed and he left, and then kept ‘forgetting’ to cancel the mortgage auto-payments when he was still alive - just like he kept ‘forgetting’ to stop making her car payments, or kept sending her cheques from some ‘investment account’ they’d apparently set up years ago that she had no memory of. She’d stolen a better quality of life than she was owed from a guy that she was tethered to based on one night of bad decisions when they were in their twenties. It would have been easier on her conscience if Ben had resented her for it. But he didn’t. He’d looked out for her and loved her right up until the ugly end and she didn’t deserve any of it. 

If Ben had stayed here, he would have had to drive a different route to work. That’s why they bought the house - it was close to his job. Maybe he’d still be alive. Maybe it would have been her that died after a rush hour car wreck, of an internal hemorrhage that every medical professional in the vicinity was too busy and too stupid to notice. Maybe things would be better that way. 

The house is too quiet, and there’s too much space - Bianca traipses up the stairs, her fingers brushing over the lingering texture of Adore’s childhood crayon-on-wall scribbles, long since painted over. 

The wine is making her feel worse. She’s angry - hurt, frustrated, upset. But not with Adore. With herself for making her this way. 

Ben was warm, Ben was supportive. Ben could never see a single fault in her - not like Bianca. Bianca was the Bad Cop; the enforcer, the prison warden. Bianca nagged Adore about her homework and her curfew and her room being a mess - Bianca questioned her judgment, Bianca shat on her fashion choices. Bianca tried her best to make sure the kid didn’t turn out like she had. And she’d done it - Adore was successful, she was living a life she could look back on and be proud of. So, no fucking wonder Adore’s ideal future was one that didn’t have Bianca in it.  

“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t a kid, you were in your twenties-“ 

“I was two years younger than you are, you think you’d be great at raising a child now? Forget about finding out you’re pregnant when you were twenty-one and having to give up everything you’ve ever wanted in life for-“

“Nobody asked you to do that.”  

“No, they didn’t - but I had to do what was fucking best for you. Fuck my dreams, fuck what I wanted. You think anybody is working in a goddamn Urban Outfitters age forty-fucking-seven because they want to be?”

“I’ve been out of your house for five years, you’ve had time. Go live your dreams, since I’m not a fucking burden on you any more-“

“You’re not fucking getting it - the ‘living my dreams’ ship has sailed, since I had to drop out of fucking college for you. I had to put my life on hold indefinitely for you, and so did your father, so stop being such an ungrateful little shit-“

Bianca keeps replaying the fight in her head. Tonight had started well. Adore was back in town between tour dates and album sessions - not for Bianca. To see friends, and to meet with some record execs that Bianca was too uncool to know the names of. But when Bianca had asked if she had a free night, Adore had humored her. They’d ordered pizza, bought a couple bottles of wine, and for a moment, things felt the way they used to. Bianca was happy, for a fleeting second. 

Adore had been her best friend until she was thirteen. Then some awful melting pot of Adore’s pubescent bitch tendencies and Bianca’s stubbornness and short fuse had kicked off a bizarre ongoing war between the two of them that only seemed to mellow out once Adore left home and they weren’t constantly in each other’s way. It was normal teenager shit - Bianca remembered things being the same way between herself and her mother when she was in junior high. Her mother that she doesn’t fucking speak to any more. 

Bianca loves Adore so much that it’s physically painful, and she felt like a monster the entire time they were at odds. But she didn’t know how to stop it - she didn’t know how to be whatever Adore seemed to need from her. 

Not that there hadn’t been good moments. Adore’s first concert. The family vacation to Cancun. The weekend shopping sprees. Every so often, Bianca caught a glimpse of the fully-formed human being that Adore was starting to become, and she…well, adored her. But sooner or later, the shit would start again; Bianca could feel herself failing her daughter in real time. 

Just like when Adore was a teenager, things had fallen apart tonight just as Bianca was starting to enjoy the good.  

It was her fault. Like usual. Bianca had too much to drink too quickly, and she got emotional. She’d phrased some stuff poorly. She’d upset Adore. It was always her fault - it was always her that made the first wrong step. Adore just reacted to her shitty parenting.  

She’d made an off-handed comment about Adore ‘abandoning’ her. Which, in her crappier moments, she often felt but resolved never to say to her. Adore was an adult with her own life and her own burgeoning fame to deal with, and she’d lost her dad less than a year ago. Bianca’s feelings didn’t matter; she should be seeking her emotional support from someone her own age. So fucking what if Adore had better things to deal with than her mom’s grief and loneliness? 

But she’d said it anyway, and then she’d doubled down. Just like she always did. Adore started crying. Bianca got frustrated. God, she misses Ben. He wouldn’t have let this happen. 

“Leave Daddy the fuck out of this, he’s the only person I never doubted cared about me and I-" 

“Yeah, he did. He really, really fucking cared about you - enough to spend nearly his entire adult life closeted because he wanted to give you some semblance of a normal childhood, enough that the night he fucking died he didn’t want me to call you because he didn’t want to worry you-“

“That’s not a good thing! I wish I’d been there! I wish I knew, instead of coming offstage to find out that my dad had fucking died and my stupid, selfish, uptight bitch of a mother didn’t think it was worth her time to tell me that he was in that accident-“ 

“I told Willam - she said it wasn’t important enough to get you on the goddamn phone! Blame her!”

“You should have tried harder!”

“I didn’t think I had to. Your dad didn’t know how bad it was, he didn’t know what was going to happen - none of us knew, obviously if we did I would have put you on a flight as soon as I-“

Bianca has been trying to write that stupid fucking San Junipero bullshit out of her will for months now. If Ben wanted it and didn’t get it, she’s sure as shit not doing it now. However, the process is a fucking nightmare - eight hundred stupid phone calls to eight hundred useless morons who need to refer her to the next person, to try and sell her on an upgrade or ask her if this is because she wants the payout for the unused credit on her plan. It’s demoralizing and exhausting - the evil spiritual stepsister of canceling fucking cable, but a hundred times harder and with constant reminders of her fucking dead ex-husband and the last request he never got. 

Everything is depressing and shit, and she’s tired. She wants it to end - she wants to return to a normal that she can never get back. 

Bianca lingers at the open door of Adore’s teenage bedroom. It’s a shitshow. She hadn’t tidied up after herself when she left after Ben’s funeral - if anything she’d made more mess, rummaging around in her things and packing and unpacking for that fucking tour she had to go on. Which had done good things for her. In the last six months, her opening spots had turned into festival headliners and talk show appearances; she had an album in the works, and was watching her teenage dream blossom in real time to heights she’d never imagined it would reach. Bianca is glad that she went. Even if she hates her for it a little bit.

Bianca doesn’t want to touch anything. She treads carefully across the messy floor, trying not to disrupt anything; trying to preserve her daughter’s chaos, learn to live in it and love it as she did. Adore’s bed is unmade. The sheets smell like her. 

There’s a framed picture by her bed - a print of a blurry selfie taken at Ben’s niece’s bat mitzvah. She remembers that night. Adore had just turned twenty-one and her hair was purple. They’d gotten irresponsibly drunk on kosher wine, and Adore had climbed into Bianca’s lap to take the picture, pressing her gloss-sticky lips to Bianca’s cheek and telling her she loved her. They’re both smiling like maniacs. 

Adore had just turned twenty-one. That picture hadn’t been there when Adore last occupied that room - she’d moved into her college dorm a few days before her nineteenth birthday. She’d brought that here. And left it here. Bianca feels queasy. She picks it up gently, like it’s a precious artifact. The frame is bright red hard plastic, shaped like a heart - painted on one side, in Adore’s endearingly shitty handwriting: LOVE YOU MOMMY XO

Bianca’s eyes well up. It was a fucking gift that Adore never gave to her. Probably because she’d ruined Adore’s last visit home. Just like she ruined tonight. Just like she ruined her. Bianca drops the frame like it burns to touch, and she hears the glass shatter against the hardwood floor.  

She closes the door as she leaves, hearing it slam and her own breath becoming frantic. She feels that familiar ache, a sob building up in the depths of her chest.  

She’s pressed against Adore’s wall and staring directly into Ben’s old room. She’d transformed it into a pitiful sewing workspace that she’d barely used when he moved out - a weird attempt to kick some sense of purpose back into her life when Adore had flown the nest and Ben was out living his own life, picking up an old hobby that had dominated her teens and fuelled her plans for the future. Plans that had died a death in the bathroom of her old apartment downtown. The mannequin torso sits gathering dust, half-finished sketches litter the table. A waste - like everything else. 

She can’t do this. She doesn’t want to be here. She wants Adore back. Wants to hold her in her arms, breathe in her scent and her warmth, and tell her she forgives her for every horrible thing that had come out of her mouth tonight. 

No, she wants to tell her that she’s sorry. For everything. 

Sleep. She needs to sleep. 

“You just don’t want to admit that you screwed me out of a chance to say goodbye! You feel like I’ve abandoned you? Fuck you! You didn’t love him!” 

“I did-" 

“He was your friend - he was my fucking dad. Don’t try and pretend that what you’re feeling right now is anything like what I’m feeling, because it’s not.”

“It doesn’t have to be - Dorey, we can deal with this together. I want to be there for you. I want to help you. And I miss you, is that such a fucking crime?”

“You miss being a bitch to me - you miss telling me that I’ve wasted my life. You miss having someone else to boss around, because that’s all you wanna do.”

“Adore, I tried my fucking best for you. I didn’t have it in me to be a perfect mother - I didn’t have one, I wasn’t set up to be good at this. I tried my best, and if you feel like I’ve failed then I’m really fucking sorry. But I love you, and-“

Why the fuck are her pills on the kitchen counter? Bianca pops one out and swallows it dry, desperate for her mind to shut the fuck up. She’s drunk and confused and alone and fucking sad, and she wants to sleep.

Should she call Adore? No, that feels desperate. She needs to leave her alone; let her get over this at her own pace, let her come back on her own. If she wants to come back. She’ll come back. 

Bianca didn’t come back. Bianca didn’t forgive her mom for the sin of setting her expectations too high, so why the hell would Adore do the same? Maybe her mom feels the same way about her - maybe she feels deprived of a presence in the life she created, and maybe she loses sleep and paces around the house at night like a madwoman and cries over her too. That feels vindicating - so why does it hurt so much that Adore is probably gonna commit her to the same fate? 

Bianca collapses into the couch. Her body feels heavy. The clock on the wall says it’s just after midnight. There’s an empty pizza box on the coffee table. Adore’s lipstick is stained onto the rim of her glass. 

“God, can you not go five minutes without trying to make me feel like shit? I know. I know you tried, I’m sorry I didn’t turn out the way you wanted me to-“

“Do you think this is what your dad would have fucking wanted?”

“Don’t talk about what he would have wanted - what he would have wanted doesn’t matter. He’s dead, mom. He’s fucking gone. He’s gone, and I’m never gonna get him back, and now I’m stuck with you.”  

“The fuck do you mean ‘stuck with’ me?”

“You know exactly what I fucking mean.”

“What, you wish it was me? You wish I was the one that had fucking died? If that’s what you mean, say it.” 

“If I have to choose one of you then yeah. Yeah, I wish it was him that was still here.”

The couch is soft and warm and Bianca is falling asleep. She’s comfortable - but she feels wrong. Her head is swimming. 

It’s getting dark outside. Bianca watches for headlights in the driveway. Maybe Adore will come home and forgive her. Bianca is tired, and her head is heavy, and she wants to go to sleep. Sleep and forget. Maybe Adore will love her again when she wakes up. 

*****

[1] MISSED CALL  Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 00:21

[3] NEW MESSAGES  Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 00:23 mom im rlly sorry. i love you. can we talk <33 mom are you okay? talk to me 

[3] MISSED CALLS Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 00:29

[4] NEW MESSAGES Adore DR  00:34 mom PLEASE answer ur phone  im sorry  talk to me please im coming over

[5] MISSED CALLS Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 00:58

[3] NEW MESSAGES Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 01:01 im outside answer the door  mommy i know ur mad at me but i want to talk to u, im rlly sorry i love u so much pls answer the door mom MOM

[8] MISSED CALLS Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 01:07

[2] NEW MESSAGES Adore DR 💕😻👩‍👧 01:11 mommy please  im sorry. i love you. 

****

Pride Challenge Points: 6662

#rpdr fanfiction #the miracle of living #lita #bianca del rio #adore delano #adore & bianca #mother/daughter au #bendelacreme #jinkx monsoon #san junipero au #black mirror au #fic challenge #dystopia #angst #tissue warning #parenting au #dead dove do not eat #tw major character deaths #tw grieving and depression #tw parental loss #tw suicidal thoughts #tw accidental overdose

[husbandhoshi]

A fic I haven't read yet from you, but I want to

Definitely Eat, Play, Love. Once I find the capacity and time to read fics over 10k, just know I will be very annoying about it. Sorry in advance. It's your comeback fic, it's Cheol AND it's enemies to lovers????? This is peak RJ content tbh.

What made me the most emotional after reading

I know I am a very hyperbolic and dramatic person but, the way your headcanon about moving in with Dino specifically has not left my mind since I read it. I was also embarrassing close to tears when I finished it. Still haven't forgiven you for making me feel my feelings and for Dino of all people no less smh /lh.

What I like the most about your writing

I think I said this in the tags of the Josh drabble I recently read from you but, you have such a great balance between softness, filth (complimentary) and humour in your writing. It doesn't feel jarring reading about how these people know each other and how much they each other vs the smut (tm) vs injections of humour whatever you choose to place them. It all blends together so incredibly well.

RJJJJJJJJJJJJJ.... u are literally THE SWEETEST alive. dont even apologize for anything -- it is sooooo flattering to me that u take the time to read my fics and then find some crazy unique combo of reaction pics and THEN write such thoughtful FUNNY tags?????? like u have made me happy enough to last several lifetimes. do NOT worry.

and the DINO WORMS... THEY GOT U.. THEY GOT U SO BAD. i wish there were like 10 of me bc then the dino fic ive been wanting to write would be done and u could suffer :)

n the feedback abt the writing not being jarring 🥹🥹🥹🥹 there are def SOME fics floating around the masterlist that suffer from that but im glad that the ones you've read you've enjoyed <3333

#stopp... huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu #also i just saw ur rb of that lil drabble...insanity. INSANITY #if only u were around a year ago when the joshushus were rampant and this blog wsa posting like every hour of every day HAHA #ask #mutuals #rj #<33333 mwah mwah mwah

[butchbarbieagainstterfs]

i have a very serious request for advice cos i just dont know why this is happening and i trust your judgement

so im (as far as im aware) a nonbinary lesbian. love women, love queer people, the community,all that jazz... however .... (and i apologize and beg your forgiveness in advance)

whemever i see anything, whether its art or a movie or tv show or book or some rando gushint about gay men or gay male love i just... i know this is bad but i genuinely feel so fucking disgusted and irritated. its infuriating and i just am literally disgusted.

anytime i go into a bookstore and see a book about gay guys or see a tv show about teen boys falling in love for the nth time or hear some celebrity is gay now or see some artist drawing two guys in love or fucking or whatever, my immediate thought is "for fuck sake just shut the fuck up. we get it. youre gay. can you shut the fuck up now? what do you want, a medal? for what? wanting to shove your dick in an asshole? fuck off and go fuxk yourselves literally. we fucking get it ok?! wow so gay so brave. whatever. go stick your dick in a blender"

I KNOW ITS BAD I KNOW but this doesnt happen with any other queer people. lesbians, bisexuals, pans, aces, trans people... anyone. only gay men and boys ..... even thinking about it to write this is annoying me.

.... im sorry. this is disgusting and wrong and all that i know. ive been trying to figure out why thia is happening and i just dont know. if you can get through this dumpsterfire to respond, tho i completely understand if you dont, ....can you possibly think of anything that might be causing this deterrance? its crazy im literally gay but also homophobic towards gay men?! its bizarre and i apologize immensely for subjecting you to this.

im so sorry

That’s something for you to think on.

What specifically about gay men and boys makes you feel this way? Has someone taught you to feel like this about them specifically?

The second part definitely sounds plausible because society does tend to oversexualise gay men especially.

#homophobia tw

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

Hey lovely,

I know I've just sent you one of these, but I am a little grumpy today (for reasons unknown), so your answer will cheer me up!

Imagine having a case of the grumps like I do now. Pick an AEW Talent and make them try to cheer you up. What would they do? Would it help or make things worse?

(But wait, there's more)

Now imagine the situation being switched. Now they are grumpy, and you qant to help them feel better. What do you think might work? Does it in the end?

Love ya!

Uh being grumpy is the worst and honestly I’m never just grumpy. I go to 0 to 200 in a half a second. I pity those who have to be around me when I’m mad, unless I’m in a bad mood because of them…than f those fools.

I’m going to have to pick Santana for this one, I have not been focusing on him as much as he deserves. 😂 And look at him he is adorable and he needs all my love

Okay So here is the thing about me, things that should make me angry don’t actually make me angry. Instead I let all the little things build up into I explode. Santana was luckily able to notice this pretty early in our relationship.

Today was just one of those days, the night before I ran the dryer and for some reason it didn’t actually dry my work clothes. So in the morning Im late to work waiting for my clothes to dry. I have to work through lunch, and a couple other things just keep adding on to my day. My blood pressure tips over when I get home and trip over Santanas bag he left in the hallway.

If this was in our first 6 months of dating, he would have laughed and told me it wasn’t that a big of deal. But now he sees that my light brown are darker. And they are tearing up. Because when I’m at my breaking point I start to cry, which only makes me angrier.

“I’m sorry baby girl,” Santana apologizes and moves his bag. Than immediately wraps me in a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Go get change and let me take care of you.” I use the breathing techniques my therapist taught me, while I’m pressed against him, inhaling his scent.

When I’m changing he orders way too much delivery and makes sure they have coke and dessert. Those two are the most important part of my angry binge eating meal.

While we wait for our food, Santana listens to me complain about my day while he cracks my knuckles and toes. (Because I am a dumpster on fire disguised as a human being and I love it). He also just listens and let’s me vent. He doesn’t try to fix my problems either. He just listens.

After the food gets here and I eat all my problems away. While I make Santana cheat on his diet and work out plans. We spend the rest of the evening talking, watching a movie or one of our shows. If it’s been a lot building up he sets up Mario party or plays one of my 100 different versions of Monopoly I own.

By the end of the night I am feeling a lot of better but still have a lot of left over adrenaline. And if this is too much Information sorry I’m advance, but when I get angry I also get horny. So when Santana and I go upstairs for the night, he knows exactly what it I need. To be dominated and put back in my place.

Santana doesn’t let the little things bother him or let them build up. It honestly depends on the day, one day someone could come up to him and punch him in the face and he would laugh about it. Other days I could be bailing him out of jail.

It’s pretty obvious when Santana is pissed off or just having a bad day, because he gets so quiet. Santana is pretty quiet on a normal basic, but this is different. An uncomfortable silence, where he is just zoning out.

And you know how I am with uncomfortable silences, my skin practically burns to say something…anything. So when we first got together it was BAD. My go to was to try and make him laugh. Be obnoxious, loud, say silly things; this however only made him more annoyed and withdrawn.

We were dating for 4 months when he picked me up for a date and as soon as I got in his car I could just tell something happened. So I tried my usual technique and kept trying and trying, until he exploded at me. We than had the most uncomfortable dinner at the Olive Garden. We all seen the couple at a restaurant that just look like they hate each other, but they invested too much time until the relationship to break up. Yeah that’s what we look like and we didn’t talk when he dropped me off. The next day I called him crying telling him I’m sorry and what should I should do next time, because I still want to be with him bad days and all.

“I just need you to be there with me, even if its just sitting there being quiet.” It started to get a lot better after that. And now when Santana is pissed off I know exactly what to do.

So when he came home one day from the gym, we had breakfast together and he was completely in his head, I asked him to go on a walk with me. He held my hand and I rested my head on his shoulder while we walked around Brooklyn in silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked when we were on the way home.

“Not yet baby girl,” and he squeezed my hand. A little sign that he didn’t want to talk, but he also didn’t want to be in his own head anymore. So I spent the rest of the walk telling him about my morning and about a book I was reading.

By the time we get home he is telling me what happened. I listen and give my opinion and advice. Sometimes he takes it and sometimes he doesn’t. Santana is his own man with his own morals and experiences so I know he will do what he thinks is best.

Together we go upstairs and make slow passionate love. It’s his way of showing me that just because he is moody, that it has nothing to do with me.

I know you sent me this awhile ago, so if your still in a grumpy mood I’m just going to have to fly to Germany and put my foot up whoever/whatever is bothering you.

#aew #aew fanfiction #aew santana #santana and ortiz #proud and powerful #the grumps

[transmascore]

hi, its the same anon who asked about if its possible for sexuality to change. just wanted to thank you firstly for your answer. it really got my gears turning about who i am so thank you

if i could ask another question ....(sorry if its a bother)

is it possible to experience a kind of internalised homophobia but because youre an unrealised transmasc/trans man who is attracted to men?

like, and i know this will sound really weird so i apologize in advance but, whenever i see any mlm content, whether its art or books or movies or pictures or anything that shows two young men being happy and in love, i just feel so.... like.... annoyed? by it??

idk if its an internal sense of denial making me push away thte thought of being masc presenting/transmasc/a trans man and in a happy relationship with another man who sees me as another man but... it happens all the time. and i dont feel this deterance from another other kind of queer media. just mlm.

i have a suspicion that its because im transmasc and have an unacknowledged growing attraction to and desire for men that i just subconsciously refuse to accept because im clinging to lesbianism for dear life and then theres internalised transphobia going "i cant actually be a gay if im transmasc/a trans man" but....

is this an actual thing other people deal with? or am i just strange and need help with that?

thank you (again) (and sorry)

I'm glad that I could help!

And to answer your question: once again, yep! It's extremely common. Internalized transphobia and internalized homophobia are something a LOT of us experience and have to work through bit by bit. It can manifest in different forms. For some it's seeing any representation at all, for others it's situational.

Something I always recommend when it comes to internalized transphobia (and I'd recommend the same for internalized homophobia) is to really immerse yourself in art, writing, poems. To recognize that discomfort and face it head on. But also, take care of yourself? Don't try to speedrun it or overwhelm yourself. Just do a little bit of exposure therapy at a time. And think of it less as "I'm learning to tolerate this" and more of "I want to understand more about myself and who I am as a person."

It also helps, too, to talk about things with other people. It's funny to admit, but I became a lot more comfortable with myself as a trans man after friends and I talked about trans headcanons we had about fictional characters, and we would explore scenarios about these characters and how they would interact with one another. And it wouldn't surprise me if the same process, of talking about fictional characters you like and exploring a relationship between them, might help you to feel more at ease.

Also I think you might benefit from reading these articles about Transmasc Comphet, even if you are also attracted to women, because it goes into more detail about how gender and sexuality can be intertwined and how the way we understand ourselves can change with time.

I wish you luck on your journey of figuring stuff out and I hope that you get to a place where seeing mlm stuff doesn't make you uncomfortable. If I can make a personal recommendation? Our Flag Means Death helped me a lot. It's a pirate comedy show and it also features two MLM romances and one NBLM romance, all of which I feel are handled quite well. And I will say, this show helped me recognize and feel more comfortable in my identity as a gay man.

#asks #anonymous

[hurlockomega]

alistair for the ask game 😌

BLESS YOU. Also I apologize for the rant in advance.

first impression: honestly i thought he was a little annoying at first? i thought this was just some strange, funny frat boy assigned to me by handsome beard man, but then all of a sudden halfway through lothering im heart eyes in a wheat field?? i was like how tf did we get here i thought i didn't care about you?? so then i talk to him some more in camp and i find out he has Childhood Trauma™ and he's a little awkward and then i was in deep so fast. 13 years later i'm still here. mentally i'm still in that wheat field in lothering talking to this man about griffons.

impression now: first of all i would go to war for this man, my socially inept disaster boy. he's only grown on me more over the years and it's not stopping i love him so much. he's kind, he has a good heart, he's patient, he's petty, he's hilarious, he's childish (he's 19 he's forgiven) he's smart, he's insecure, i love him, i love him, i love him. i romance this dude once a year. i am beyond help.

favorite moments: god where to start. Uhhhhhh. paraphrased bc idr exactly: - when he mimicks morrigan's voice in the swamp. "First it's [I like you], then zap, frog time." - Put on a dress and dance the Remigold scene at Duncan's campfire - "Now that the warm, fuzzy part of the day is over with we can get back to the ritual dismemberments. Oh, wait, it's not Tuesday, is it?" - When he goes "Yeeeeees???" when you click on him at like 80 approval and he's romanced - "The reason I said I was lucky." line before u enter Redcliffe (after he tells u about his father) - "Why do they call it a 'brothel?' There's no broth, is there?" - When u enter the Denerim market and he goes "You can get almost anything here. I once got pickpocketed." - His banter with Dog. - Any of his nervous rambling.

idea for a story: Listen. I have So Many. I write him every day. It's Zevistair/surana hours all day every day in this house. He's one of the mains in my 200k+ words personal fic I use for creative therapy writing. I also want to write warden Alistair meeting Anders in Awakening together with a Surana or Amell that knows Anders. I'm also working on a modern AU dog walking fic. I want to write dialogue for him visiting the kennels when you sneak into Redcliffe castle. What if he had the warden's Sloth dream in the Tower, with Duncan. I want to write his first weeks as king. Stuff like that. unpopular opinion: Idk if it's still unpopular to think this but Alistair is biracial and brown. That is not a white man and Bioware whitewashed him to hell and back. Also he is bisexual. One Hundred percent. He gets so jealous when a male warden doesn't romance him (it's the most obvious when u romance Morrigan, but when u romance Zev he basically admits it when u ask him directly.) Again, idk if these opinions are still unpopular bc i exist in a carefully constructed echo chamber.

favorite relationship: romantic: Tabristair, Zevistair, Suranastair. non romantic: Sten, Duncan, Leliana.

favorite headcanon: This man is ND. Sometimes I write him more autistic leaning, sometimes adhd. Either way this man is ND. Also he is bi, but I consider that canon.

#alistair #cheese man #loml etc #ask meme