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#I have more to say but I hope this will suffice
bosbas · 3 days
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Chapter 9: I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, colin being incredibly down bad it's insane, Penelope DOES NOT have feelings for colin in this, the bridgertons being tapped in as fuck
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
A/N: this one wrote itself basically. so enjoy! happy weekend and a big smooch
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June 6 – It seems that one Mr. Nigel Berbrooke has returned after an extended unexplained absence. He was spotted at the gentleman's club last night, though only for a very short time. This author heard that Mr. Berbrooke was asked to leave only an hour into his appearance due to a particularly aggressive threat he made toward Simon Basset. It’s safe to say that he has been uninvited from the Duke’s ball this evening, and perhaps from the rest of the social season’s events as well, depending on how lenient the Duke and Duchess of Hastings decide to be. 
However, information regarding his whereabouts for the past month is scarce, and this author lacks any reputable sources about what the man has been up to while away from London. But rest assured, dear readers, that any information I receive will be relayed through this very column.
Colin looked nervously at his reflection for what seemed like the hundredth time, adjusting his cravat ever so slightly. He sighed in frustration, accepting the fact that his appearance wouldn’t look quite right no matter what he did. 
Tonight was Daphne’s ball, and he knew for a fact that you would be in attendance. As much as he was trying to convince himself that this ball was no different, he knew it wasn’t going to be the same. Not after his talk with Anthony. There were some concerningly similar aspects between Kate and Anthony and his friendship– could he even call it a friendship? –with you, and Colin was not too hard-headed to be able to admit that. 
But he didn’t want to scare you off. As much as he liked you, he knew you were skittish after everything that happened with Lord Barlow. Besides, Colin didn’t even know if you liked him, too, or if you considered all of this as just an attempt to make you look desirable to other candidates. 
Frankly, Colin wasn’t even sure he could convince you to ever marry him. Maybe just being friends, or whatever it was the two of you had now, would suffice. Truthfully, he would take anything. 
Tonight, he just wanted a dance. And perhaps a chat, too. 
Based on the past few times Colin had spoken with you, he had concluded that you might be his favorite person in the ton to talk to. The mere thought of speaking with you tonight stirred excitement in his stomach. Every time you engaged in conversation, he found himself utterly captivated, forgetting everything else around him. What's more, you seemed genuinely interested in his what he had to say, a rarity among the ton. For the first time, he felt truly understood, and he hoped desperately that you reciprocated his sentiment. 
“You look fine,” assured Eloise. “Now can we please go? We’ll never hear the end of it from Daphne if we’re late!” 
Colin grumbled in annoyance but begrudgingly made his way to the carriage. In truth, he'd do just about anything to be near you. Even if he didn’t immediately dance with you– knowing full well you would be flocked by hordes of gentlemen wanting your hand in marriage– he still liked to simply… observe you. How your eyes crinkled shut when you laughed, the way you nervously bit your lip when someone you didn’t particularly like asked you to dance, the way you fiddled with your gloves when you were itching to get out of a conversation.
Bloody hell, Colin thought, maybe he did have feelings for you. Well, not love, that would be absurd. But certainly something more than the petty rivalry that had consumed your interactions for weeks on end. It was a sobering realization, especially after relentlessly antagonizing you for the better part of seven weeks.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about you that Colin barely noticed once the carriage had arrived at Daphne and Simon’s residence.
“Colin, darling, is anything the matter?” his mother inquired, tapping him on the arm and gently leading him toward his sister’s home.
“No, no, sorry. Everything’s alright, just got a bit distracted there,” he smiled back. 
Christ, he had to get a grip. You’d be put off immediately if you saw how he was acting now. He smoothed his coat down as he entered the ballroom, eyes immediately searching for you in the crowd.
He quickly spotted you speaking to a man he’d never seen before with Isabelle and Carlos by your side. Damn, thought. He’d have to wait to ask you to dance. 
But it was no bother. In the meantime, he attended to his duties as the most beloved Bridgerton. He sought out his sister and Simon to thank them for hosting the ball, of course, and danced with Penelope Featherington. 
Yet his focus stayed on you. He found himself glancing over to where you were every few minutes, just needing reassurance that you were still there. And also because he quite liked looking at you in general.  
Colin shook his head, bringing his attention back to Penelope. He had to remind himself to pull himself together. Even though Colin had spoken to Anthony, you had no reason to believe anything was different between you two. And it wasn’t. Everything was the same. It was only Colin who had changed. Who wanted something different, something more. 
“What’s on your mind?” asked Penelope after she noticed Colin’s drifting attention.
“Ah, nothing,” he responded dismissively. “Does Lady Montclair look particularly… subdued tonight, do you think?”
“Y/N?” Penelope clarified, looking over at where you were standing next to Louis. 
“Oh heavens, don’t look now!” Colin whispered, panicked. “She’ll see us both looking and know we were talking about her.”
Penelope laughed in disbelief. “Could it be? That my dear friend Colin Bridgerton is finally falling for someone? Have you truly found roots in England? Is that why you’ve stayed for so long this season?”
Colin could only smile bashfully. She had never seen him quite like this. And though it was unusual, it was fairly endearing to see him so flustered over a girl.
“Well, go talk to her, then. What are you doing dancing with me?”
“Penelope, I dance with you at every ball. I can go speak with her after. And don’t tell anyone! I’m not even sure if she likes me.”
“Very well then,” relented Penelope, but Colin did not miss the knowing smile she sent him.
After the dance concluded, Colin chatted with his brothers for a few minutes before making his way over to you and Louis, wanting to avoid seeming overly eager. But once he started walking toward you, your head shot up, as if you could tell that he was getting nearer. 
Your eyes met for a split second, but you immediately turned your head away, choosing instead to look at your gloved hands, which were fidgeting nervously. Colin frowned in confusion at your reaction, but continued walking, thinking that perhaps you had seen someone else behind him. 
As he reached your side, he saw you chewing anxiously on your lip and his frown deepened. But he pushed through. This was what he wanted, after all. You were what he wanted. 
“Lady Montclair,” he bowed. “Would you care for a dance tonight?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his lips as he reached for the dance card on your wrist.
But you pulled your hand away abruptly, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” was your curt response. 
Colin’s confusion morphed into frustration. What was the matter with you?
“That’s alright, I understand if you want to save space on your dance card for more…serious suitors,” he cringed as he heard himself speak. But at the end of the day, he was well aware that you were looking for a titled gentleman to be your husband. “We could take a turn about the ballroom and chat for a bit,” he offered, looking at you hopefully once again.
You finally met his eyes, and he could tell you were searching for something as you looked at him, a pained look on your face.
“No, thank you,” you repeated firmly, an edge to your voice. 
Colin rolled his eyes. This was so typical of you. You let him in for about three seconds and then went back to keeping him at arm’s length for whatever unknown reason.
“Are we really back to doing this?” asked Colin, exasperated. “I thought we were friends, at the very least.”
Your spine was suddenly rigid, and a fury ignited in your eyes. “We were never friends, Mr. Bridgerton,” you ground out. “You were simply doing Eloise a favor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone else I must dance with.”
Your voice was cold and uncaring, and Colin was slapped with a reminder of how things used to be as you sidestepped him to go toward the other side of the ballroom. 
Three steps into your journey, it was clear that there wasn’t actually anyone waiting to dance with you, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you were so desperate to get away. Even at the peak of your hatred toward him, you were always open to verbally sparring. 
Colin turned around to Louis, shooting him a questioning look. But your brother could only shrug. Who knew what went on in the depths of your brain? Louis had noticed you had been slightly on edge ever since you returned from Hyde Park with your sisters yesterday afternoon, but he wasn’t expecting you to be this hostile, especially after getting along so well with Colin.
Feeling his desire to speak with you outweigh his pride, Colin turned back and grabbed your hand, turning you to face him. “If what you want is to go back to arguing, I’m happy to do that,” he said, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of going back to how things were.
He sounded positively pathetic. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping this fragile dynamic alive, keeping you near him. If Anthony and Kate could do it, couldn’t the two of you?
You seemed on the brink of tears, but your voice held an unspeakable fury. “What I want is for you to leave. Me. Alone,” you emphasized each word with a pointed jab at his chest. “Please,” you whispered, your voice faltering. “I do not wish to dance with you, or to chat with you, or even to be near you at all. Good night.”
With that, you pivoted away, heading towards the refreshment table, tears welling in your eyes. And Colin was left standing there, hand lingering over the spot on his chest you had prodded.
He felt a familiar anger rising through him. It didn’t matter that you were the only person in the world who understood him. It didn’t matter that you were completely beautiful and incredibly smart, either. And it certainly didn’t matter that he’d fallen for you. Because you still hated him. And he was a fool to ever think things could be different.
Colin was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched you smile and greet some gentleman or other. He flinched as he saw the man kiss the back of your hand, and watched, seething, as he led you to the dance floor. 
Deciding he needed something stronger than lemonade, Colin turned around and grabbed a glass of champagne, downing it in one go. He couldn’t believe you didn’t think he was your friend. What the hell else could you call it?
He spotted Eloise and Penelope chatting close by and stomped over to them. He was sure he looked like Gregory after a fight with Hyacinth, pouting with his arms crossed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
“I thought you were going to talk to Y/N,” said Penelope, confused to see him back so soon. 
Colin shot her a murderous look. “She wants nothing to do with me, apparently. She said the only reason I talked to her was out of a favor to Eloise.”
Eloise coughed awkwardly. “Well, didn’t you?”
“No!” shot back Colin defensively. “Not entirely, at least. I don’t know. I need to leave.” 
You were still dancing with the unnamed man, and Colin was very much still seething as he watched the pair of you twirl around and smile at one another. 
Usually, it was frustrating to watch you dance with other people because you were never like that with him. But this well and truly hurt. It hurt to see you like this when he knew, now for a fact, that he could never have that with you again. 
“I need to leave,” he repeated. He couldn’t bear to watch you do this all night.
Snatching another glass of champagne and downing that one, too, he bid his goodbyes to Penelope and Eloise and made his way across the ballroom to the exit.
“Are you leaving already, darling? You’ve barely been here an hour,” Colin heard next to him as a hand reached out for his elbow. 
Turning around, he faced his mother, who looked like she was in the middle of a conversation with Anthony and Benedict. 
Colin nodded. “I’m sorry, mother. I just can’t. I can’t stay,” he responded, voice breaking as he glanced back toward you again. 
Seeing you lean to whisper something in your suitor’s ear, he slumped forward, practically feeling physical pain at the sight. 
“I must go,” Colin said firmly, giving his mother a quick squeeze and rushing to the door. 
Violet nodded, bewildered, and followed where Colin’s gaze had been. Finding you dancing with Lord Norcliffe, Violet sent a knowing look to Benedict and Anthony. 
“I suppose Hyacinth was right,” she said sympathetically.
“And don’t you dare tell her! It’ll get to her head,” responded Benedict. 
---
“The Bridgertons will be in attendance tonight,” your mother informed you carefully as you sat in the carriage on the way to yet another ball. 
“And by the Bridgertons you mean…”
“She means Colin, yes,” answered Jacques, earning a stifled laugh from his wife, Chiara. 
Ever since they’d been back and learned of your intense hatred for Colin, Jacques had not been able to stop making a mockery of it. Usually, you were quite agreeable, and it was rare that you found yourself at odds with someone who wasn’t your sibling, so this seemingly unprompted hatred was quite amusing to your brother. 
You groaned and glared at him. “No one asked you to come tonight, you know. In fact, no one asked you to come to England at all! You could have stayed in Tuscany, and I would have been much happier.”
“Ah, but then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to tease you about this,” answered Jacques, completely unbothered by your biting tone. 
“Whatever,” you grumbled in response, only slightly comforted by Chiara’s apologetic smile as she softly scolded her husband.
It had been four days since your run-in with Nigel, and three since you saw Colin at Daphne’s ball, and the thought of seeing him again made you feel sick. It was already bad enough that he was disgusting and had no respect for you, but it was made infinitely worse by the fact that you had let yourself grow to care for him. In a friendly way, of course. You could never have married him, anyway. But it was still embarrassing that you fell into his charming trap and thought that you could become something more than a conquest for him.
“Be nice,” your mother whispered in warning as you approached the Bridgertons. 
You shrugged her off, not needing a reminder. You had been brought up to be the perfect lady. You weren’t about to forget yourself now. You refused to give Colin that power. 
You greeted the family warmly until you got to Colin. “Mr. Bridgerton,” you said, giving him a curt nod.
Not waiting for a response, you moved to stand away from him as you looked out at the crowd. Perhaps you would find a gentleman who was actually enjoyable to talk to, though your chances seemed slim. 
Colin shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching you intently. It seemed that your behavior at Daphne’s ball hadn’t been a fluke, after all. He ground his teeth in annoyance, growing increasingly irritated by the fact that you were just standing there.
Why weren’t you doing anything? It was infuriating. Perhaps it would have been less infuriating if it were anyone else, but it seemed like anything you did was particularly vexing to him.
Making his way over to you, he stopped beside you. Wanting to slip back into the comfort of your tumultuous dynamic, Colin took a shot at your attire. “I see the modiste-”
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking, barely above a whisper, and your gaze locked ahead of you. 
Colin was taken aback. You had never, in all the time that he had known you, backed down from an argument. It seemed that you just… didn’t want him around at all. You hated him enough that you didn’t want to be near him. And in any way that mattered, it was worse than when you were antagonizing him.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said desperately. “I didn’t mean- Look, can we please talk? Just quickly, I just want-”
But you didn’t even let him finish. “There’s nothing to say.”
Colin scoffed, a futile attempt to hide how hurt he was really feeling. “What do you mean there isn’t anything to say? I have things to say, at least. Just talk to me.”
You finally turned to face him, feeling your stomach drop as you looked at his desperate eyes searching yours for an answer. 
“Let me rephrase. I do not wish to speak with you, in any capacity, now or any time in the future. I do not care to hear what you have to say, Mr. Bridgerton, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that, though I know that’s not usually in your nature.”
Colin could only sputter, staring at you in disbelief as you walked away. He felt his stomach turn uncomfortably as you reached a man he didn’t know, but whom you’d danced with at Daphne’s Ball. 
He had to have done something wrong. Colin hadn’t the slightest clue what, but you obviously had something against him, and it clearly wasn’t just you being silly. 
He swore under his breath. You were impossible. Not even Eloise knew why you hated him! How on earth was he supposed to know how to fix this when you refused to speak with him? It was almost easier when all you did was hurl insults at him and step on his feet as he poured lemonade down your dress.
Over on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Colin, mentally scolding yourself every time you did. This was not how you were supposed to be acting toward the man who had jumped at the first opportunity to compromise you.
The only reason you were dancing with Lord Norcliffe now was because he had not arrived in London until after your whole debacle with Lord Barlow. You supposed he could have heard what happened from someone else, but he was safer than the rest of the men of the ton, you thought grimly. It would’ve helped if he was interesting to talk to, or even nice to look at, but you supposed you couldn’t be very selective.
Curtsying and thanking Lord Norcliffe for the dance, you made a beeline toward Carlos and Philippe across the room. 
“You look like you don’t want to be here,” commented your brother, amused. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “Astute observation, Philippe.”
Carlos laughed and gave you a comforting pat on the head. “But what happened to your season in England? I thought you were excited to be here?”
“My mother and father were certainly excited,” you mused, taking Philippe’s lemonade and drinking from it. 
Seeing their confused looks, you briefly explained your encounter with Nigel Berbrooke, and they suddenly became very concerned. 
“Ce connard! Il est où? Je vai le tuer,” growled Philippe under his breath, not wanting the rest of the ton to hear his threat (That asshole! Where is he? I’m going to kill him).
“Philippe, it’s alright,” you assured him, glancing over at Carlos and seeing that he, too, had understood your brother’s words despite not speaking French. “I believe Simon Basset took care of him at White’s a few days ago.”
“That’s just as well, or I’d have done it myself,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You can just come to Spain next year, cariño,” Carlos said warmly.
You smiled up at your brother-in-law, silently thanking him for the offer even though you knew your parents would never allow it. 
Colin watched enviously as you had a conversation with your older brother and your older sister’s husband. He wished he could talk to you again. Even if nothing got resolved between you, he liked to hear your voice. He loved how stubborn you were and how frustrated you got when you forgot the English word for something. He just missed you, he supposed. 
Which is why, as Colin watched yet another man approach you and write their name on your dance card, he decided he couldn’t do this anymore. The watching, the waiting, the wanting. He couldn’t do any of it anymore. 
“I need to leave,” he said firmly.
Daphne, who had been standing beside him, turned to face him, startled. “Leave where?”
“India, Egypt, Morocco, back to Greece. I don’t care. I just need to get out of here.”
“What? Why?” asked Daphne, still confused. 
“You know why,” Colin responded flatly, giving her an unimpressed look. 
Daphne instinctively turned to look at you, laughing as the man you were dancing with whispered something to you. She turned to look back at her brother with a disappointed look.
“I can’t imagine leaving would be the best option.” 
“Why not?” Colin shot back. “What good can my presence possibly do?”
Daphne put a hand on her brother’s elbow, giving him a sympathetic look. However, her voice was firm. “You always leave when it gets hard, you know? You’re always the first out the door and onto a different continent. Why are you so scared of staying?”
Colin was stunned. He didn’t know his motives were that obvious. But he supposed it made sense for Daphne to know since she knew him better than most people.  
“I’m not scared of staying,” Colin insisted defensively. “I just think it’ll be better for everyone if I go.”
Daphne furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “And do what? What could you possibly be doing that is so important that you would abandon the woman you love?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Colin argued, his voice growing strained as he felt his chest getting tighter. “None of it matters. She doesn’t love me back. I could be down the street or in Brazil and she wouldn’t even notice. She clearly hates me and wants nothing to do with me, so why should I stay?”
Daphne crossed her arms, looking more than a little disappointed. “Well, I won’t be the one to stop you if you decide to go. But really think about whether you want to be the person who leaves time and again. Things could change. It's only been a few days since she's been like this.”
She had a point, but Colin was too upset to admit it. Daphne was right. He couldn’t just leave now. If anything, it would hurt him more than being near you with you not speaking to him. It was the strangest feeling, knowing you loved someone but feeling powerless to do anything about it. 
Colin knew he couldn’t continue like this. Perhaps he couldn’t leave, but he could certainly stay as far away as possible. 
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meemoop · 3 days
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hiiiii it’s been a while since I’ve left an ask but since u reopened them I thought I’d pop in and say hi 👋
I’ve finally been able to catch up on all ur comics (apologies for the spam of notifications u may have gotten from this 😭) after a while so suffice to say my days have been very much entertained by your Draco’s shenanigans 🤭
Anywho how are you doing as of late? I hope everything is well! Just remember you are very much appreciated and loved and I can’t wait to see more of what you’d like to share of your art 💗💗💗
Much love 🥰
PS: YOU WRITE FICS TOO OMGGGG U BET IM READING THEM ALL
Hi, Rey! I’m so glad you’re back, and thank you for giving my work some love! I’ve been doing alright despite everything—drawing comics for you guys is really helping! Thank you for your kind words 🥹🫶💕 stay in the meemoop corner for as long as you wish, friend!
🚨AMBER ALERT- ALL BAD THINGS COMING YOUR WAY HAVE BEEN ABDUCTED! 🚨
Much love to you too 💕🏃‍♀️
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cosmic-whorror · 2 months
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Hey, there! I really, really love your art… It’s got such an oniric vibe to it that makes it unique. As a beginner artist, I was wondering, if you don’t mind answering, if you could share some tips about how to find your own style? By now, I can only “copy” other artists’ works, in their own art styles, but when I try to get into my own style, it’s just… Blank, empty. I hope you can answer me on this, I’ve been walking in circles on this subject, with no progress whatsoever. I also hope you’re doing okay, and that you are having a good time there where you are ^^
Hello!! Thank you so much!! I’ve been inspired by Ukiyo-E and manga styles forever so this hits me in the soft squishy center of my heart. I’ll try not to ramble too much in my answer because this kind of journey is so personal and yet totally universal to all kinds of artists lol
First, a personal story:
When I was a kid, I was always drawing. When I saw something I loved, I drew it! I copied Pokémon cards, drawing dewgong over and over and over again just to get that majestic tail swoosh. When I was about 9, I got one of those cheesy howling wolf shirts from Orlando Studios and became obsessed with copying the image on it (but with pencil on notebook paper) probably a hundred times just to try and get a little closer to drawing badass wolves. I tore pages out of magazines and copied the clothes and faces I liked, making my little OC characters. I had this incredible Dralion Cirque du Solieil poster that was just fucking INSANELY COOL and I would draw it and stare at it for hours just trying to pick apart what about it was so fucking cool.
Everything I’ve drawn up until this very moment has pieces of all those things. Every dragon I draw has that poster, every wolf face has that tshirt. Even in years of formal art classes, students are tasked with copying the masters! Its a well-traveled path for every lifelong artist. You try on different styles, maybe some fit and others don’t. Regardless - YOUR hand is the one making the drawing; you can’t hide it and that is your personal “style”. Just like an author’s voice, humor, and values in things they write.
So, my point…
There is no true originality, cliche but TRUE! If your drawing feels soulless, what art to you looks full of life? Really observe the details about it - what about it makes it alive? Be as specific and granular as you possibly can. Take that thing, and copy it. Copy it and spend time with it, apply it to all kinds of things until it feels like it’s doing its job. Eventually it becomes an automatic part of your process and becomes your own. All art and style is like a big ol scrapbook of what gives you those feelings!
TLDR: style is a culmination of allllll the tiny moments in other things that you’re drawn to. Art development has no endpoint, KEEP GOING!!! Find what you love and USE IT!!!
I believe in you, and everyone else out there struggling with this! Everyone does at some point!! Just keep drawing and never stop! Even if you feel like you aren’t making progress - you are. Constantly.
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vero-niche · 1 year
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can i just say how much i adore how Nao-chan's gender is treated so casually in skip to loafer
like, as a white cis woman who is also quite tall and havent read the manga i didnt even realize she was trans until this scene in ep2:
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and i didnt even have the time to get nervous how they would handle this as they already moved on, ignoring the comments (just like queer people learn to do so) except for Mitsumi's comforting touch (implying she also heard the comments):
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and there were no sad words or anything about this either, it was just handled so.... normally. which should not be something worth highlighting, but, well, you know. also on that note, special shoutout to P.A. Works for casting a woman as her voice actor as well.
she's shown being the supportive and lively aunt and like seconds later in this scene she's back to being her usual self again:
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in conclusion
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twipsai · 1 month
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just a couple of fly-types beating traffic early in the morning <3
(reblogs are much appreciated! this one took a few days to finish,,,)
[image id: a digital drawing of a handful of sonic characters flying through the sky, backlit by the sun. the characters are Rouge, Silver, Jewel, Wave, Tails, Charmy, and Whisper, who is holding the end of Tangle's tail. theyre all flying in the same direction, facing left. /end id.]
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hello helloo! i just read through your modern au and I'm in love (shocker), i wanted to ask if you'd give some more info on poppy? apologies if there's already a dedicated post to her, looking is not my specialty
there is not! i will gladly ramble!
~
in this au, Poppy is slightly less fearful than canon. this is for several reasons! 1) years of therapy. 2) anxiety meds. 3) teenage years of her friends dragging her out for Shenanigans & hyping her tf up! but she's still a worrywart! she's very cautious! she can and Will see the bad/dengerous side to every situation. but! now she has the tools to not only cope with but combat her intrusive thoughts & fears <3
i think i mentioned it before but she Did Not Realize she was trans until highschool! specifically, when she met Sally! Poppy had to stop by the theater department after school for some reason or another, and Sally noticed her looking longingly at the costume dresses (Poppy thought she was alone lol)
and while Poppy was mortified at being caught, Sally was delighted. they only knew each other in passing and from reputation but Sally started holding up dresses to Poppy and complimenting how well they suited her. (i could joke about how Sally could sniff out the lesbian in her before Poppy even knew she was a girl!) Poppy, flustered by the sudden attention and apparent acceptance, didn't know how to handle it and fled. then started avoiding Sally in the halls. but! eventually she had to go back for Insert Reason Here, and ofc Sally was there. this time around Sally is a little gentler and less assertive, but manages to coax Poppy into checking out the more ~feminine~ costumes again. thus begins their little meetings where Poppy tries on costumes and Sally is her biggest hypeman
it takes a while for things to Click in Poppy's mind! it isn't until she tries on a dress that Sally custom-made for her, wearing some makeup and a wig, that Poppy has her oh moment. unfortunately, some of their ~mutual friends~ (Wally, Barnaby, Howdy) walk in on them. there's a short, terrifying moment where Wally is all "who's your friend, Sally?" and Barnaby has to lean over to let him know "that's Poppy, bud". before Poppy can fully freak out, Wally immediately goes OH! and starts complimenting how pretty she looks. Barnaby chimes in next to ask if the dress is home-made bc it fits Poppy beautifully, Howdy nabs a necklace from the nearby gathered accessories and put it on her to "tie the outfit together". in short! Poppy finds nothing but support from her buddies & they're more than happy to help her figure out this new internal crisis / revelation
then of course eventually she's found out by her family, which goes very well (im using sarcasm! it goes terribly!). Poppy isn't outright disowned or kicked out or in immediate danger, but her relationship with her family is ruined by their transphobic bigotry. her friends have her back throughout this, and the guest room at the Beagle farm is always open to her! Sally continues to make custom clothes for Poppy (something that becomes a love language for the two of them <3).
honestly, this period in Poppy's life is part of what like... idk... strengthens her, in a way? her continuing to be herself and actively rebelling against her family, i mean. Poppy becomes a pretty stellar liar lol (lying to her parents about where she's going, who she's hanging out with, what she does after school, etc). she's very cautious about all of it, but she does it! she's determined to pursue and discover and Realize the woman inside her! i have this sweet scene in my mind of the Group at the Beagle farm chilling on the floor with notebooks, brainstorming on possible names. (Sally enthusiastically says a variation of 'exquisite' to each one, and then when Poppy says 'im not sure about that one' Sally - still enthusiastically - says a variation of 'horrible terrible how could you suggest such an ill-fitting name'). despite everyone's efforts, i like to think that Poppy finds her name entirely on accident! maybe during the Gap Year Road Trip! maybe they stop by a SoCal poppy reserve in superbloom and the flowers Resonate with her! who's to say!
but Poppy begins her (medical) transition in college! she, of course, gets shit for it, but she also begins to find community and enjoyment in the local queer community. and of course, she has her buddies <3
but anyway! i like to think that Poppy participates in local farmer's markets with her crochet work & baked goods, the latter of which is a complete hit! that, plus her first experience with going to a tearoom inspires her to strive towards owning her own! tearooms are right up her alley, i'd say - calm, quiet, and Poppy can make peoples' days a little brighter with a tranquil atmosphere & delicious treats! i swear i have a reason between 'Poppy british = she goes into tea business'. honestly! tearooms are more about the tiny sammies & tasty cones w/ cream! and feeling Fancy while chatting!
i think it takes a while for her to actually be able to start up a tearoom. I'd imagine she starts by holding a small, single-table reservation-based one in her own place once the Group decides on what town to move to. it's successful, slowly (but steadily) grows, until she can get an actual House and transform the ground floor into a full tearoom. lil shop by the checkout counter, several different rooms, a sizeable kitchen. staff! the tearoom is a humble one, but it's a killer holiday & tourist destination! the high ratings even bring in people from out of town!
and when it comes to Poppy & Sally, bc yall know i'm a sucker for Popstar - i like to think that they start dating after (mostly) all of them move into their new town. & after they both have been in prior relationships! and then they never stop dating. well, they do, but that's so that they can upgrade to Wife Status. and then they never stop being wives so there <3
but Poppy is successful and happy! she had a rough go of it but she Makes It! and she continues to make it!
#i hope this Suffices!#ofc the ~lore~ in my mind is a lil more complex#but its Too Much to fully write out yk yk#giving her a tearoom was uhhhhh a bit of Personal Indulgence i will admit!#i used to have a tradition with my mother/grandma/sister where we'd all go to a tearoom once a year#but then grammie bit the dust (or rather - got turned into it) and that tradition uh. kinda stopped#i have very fond memories! i'd like to go to one again someday! perhaps with friends!#so when i was thinking 'what modern day profession would suit poppy' i do think owning a high english tearoom would fit#theres also just a level of personal influence to that ahaha#also if i went to a nice tearoom and the owner was a gorgeous 6'8 woman. ough. thats all im gonna say about it. ough <3#rambles from the bog#wh modern human au#sally likes to waltz into the tearoom while poppy is working to buy One (one) little box of tea and also flirt over the counter for an hour#and there's an upstairs room reserved for Poppy & her friends!!#it's free for them to use at any time!#though they still always pay. they have a lil game with poppy where she tries her best to refuse#but they manage to sneak the payment past her anyway#or they so happen to 'leave a tip that just so happens to be the exact payment' on their chair#on top of the tearoom she also supplies some baked goods for Howdy's shop#it was something they started when she was first getting her lil business off the ground#it evolves into just 'poppy bakes a batch of muffins as her morning ritual and sends them to howdys'#she supplies more when she can! or when she stress bakes! or when she and frank stress bake together! the entire group gets fresh tasties!
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jessiesjaded · 29 days
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random picture dump :)
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starheirxero · 3 months
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what are some major events that happened in your lord eclipse au? and do ones similar to canon like old moon sending him a wither storm go differently?
is there special events that eclipse, Sun, or that one of the followers made around him? does he have activities he likes to do in general?
OH MAN. I'm gunna be honest, I'm actually not entirely sure about the first question?? The timeline/canon I have is very loose and changes from scenario to scenario, but I suppose a few events that are pretty consistent are "The Centipede-ening", Eclipse's fall from grace (isolation from his followers due to boredom) with unwavering loyalty happening somewhere around that time period, Moon n Lunar show up... and then i Guess they release the wither storm?? Though, I do like to replace the wither storm with something that isn't. The Minecraft Story Mode Wither Storm LMAOSJWLDK
After that, though, I usually divide into two different outcomes from there and either go "Sunvant dies and slowly heals in the afterlife with his Moon, Lunar, and Bloodmoon" or "Moon and Lunar takes Sunvant back home with them and he slowly heals in the main tsams universe." Both are varying levels of angsty and bittersweet so he has to endure Healing Horrors no matter what LMAO
ALSO YES ‼️ I actually started making a small list of events/important days for Lord Eclipse's world (before getting distracted so there's only one date on it LMAO 😭) but I imagine that some days were sort of... pre-installed?? by Eclipse, like his primary day of worship (which is June 1st bc that's when he first started existing!), but some events may be entirely made by the rest of the followers! I just. dunno what those events would be yet LOL. I could also absolutely see Sun making his own personal special days that revolve around Lord Eclipse just so he feels like he's especially faithful tbh!
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loumauve · 10 months
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what's your favorite ship and why? Not limited to any particular fandom
hi! thank you for the ask :)
at any given point in time I usually have a few different favourite ships at once, so I'll give you the most relevant ones from right now:
Beta/Milu: because they're baby and cute and deserve happiness, and Milu seems like the best match for Beta. and I really want Beta to be happy and enjoy life after everything she's been through. plus Beta could definitely help Milu with some science related to helping the Utaru, I'm sure.
Ikrie/Yarra: because I thought about it for two seconds once, and mentioned it to @tjerra14 and was met with nothing but support, so now there's two story ideas floating around.
with this one I'll explain more thoroughly (bc I talked about Beta/Milu a little more recently). thing is.. there's no way in hell Ikrie would have stayed in The Cut considering even Aratak made the journey. so I hc her being at the final battle in HZD and then moving West with Talanah and Milu, and possibly making her way across the mountain bc she's Ikrie and mountains are where she grew up, so the invisible plot barrier would not keep her out of Tenakth territory if she thought Aloy might have come through.
tjerra and I hc her then making her journey towards Scalding Spear and stumbling upon Meat in the clasps of a certain group of Rebel Bandits and saving Meat, but not getting away unscathed, and Yarra then being alerted to her presence. ANYWAY all that to give the setup. (the other story idea involved a lot more birds and puns)
the reason I think they would be well matched is that Yarra is just as dedicated to her people's ways as Mailen was, which is sth Ikrie could certainly understand, but we see later on that she is also willing to change and admit when her ways may cause more harm than good, so: matched in ferocity, bonding over Yarra's pet companion and just overall a fun dynamic imho. I JUST THINK THEY'RE NEAT
Nanno/Yuri: would be my third fave atm, mostly bc the whole enemies to lovers dynamic can be fun, especially where the supernatural is involved. and I love a good you kill me I kill you back dynamic every now and then. so there's that
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itadore-you · 4 months
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every day I think abt this one fic I used to follow like the gospel from 2020 WRITERMILK WHO WROTE FUCKTOY ON WATTPAD U MADE ME WHO I AM U GOT ME INTO FANFICTION I LOVE YOU
#no idea what scandal happened that made them delete all their fics but GODDDDD I MOURN THAT FIC EVERY DAY#context it was a nanami x reader x gojo fic#gojo was a fuckboy who played with readers feelings while she didnt notice that nanami was pining after her the whole time#it was so sad bc she was ADDICTED to how gojo made her feel and she spent almost every night getting black out drunk at the club#wishing that hed want her the same way she wanted him#almost every time this happened nanami would be there to comfort her but eventually it ruined him too#seeing the woman he loved continue to keep ruining her life for him and always just hope hed fix everything#so the one time he tells her he cant be picking up her broken pieces anymore she reaches her breaking point and uhhhh#suffice to say bad things happen at the club that night she ends up in hospital#during her recovery though nanami comes back to her bc yeh he cant leave her like that cmon#gojo also starts to visit too realising that he should have cared a lot more#suffice to say yn eventually starts to return the same feelings for nanami but its a difficult thing bc#he obv doesnt want to suddenly overwhelm her with his feelings bc she went through traumatic stuff#eventually he takes her on a date when shes better and things just CLICK SO PERFECTLY#then gojo decides to confess 😭😭😭 what a mess#but omg yn finally has broken free of her previous feelings for him and she knows that being with nanami is the right choice for her
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orcelito · 11 months
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And here I am awake again
Life goes on
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skimblyshanks · 1 year
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listen luke evans has the pipes of an angel and the character design is dilftastic but the latest adaptation is committing the greivous sin of making scrooge's problem that he's grouchy and doesn't like the holiday so it's an automatic L
#realized i might sound like im being tongue in cheek but im not#it's a story about wealth distribution and class stratification#also it has enough antisemitic undertones as is#dont make it worse by maki g his crime not liking christmas#the only thing that makes me like the story is generally the turning point at the end of the 2nd ghost's visit#when scrooge gets his own cruelty spat back at him#like i have many feelings abt the whole thing#and the villanization of ppl who dont want anything to do with christmas has made me :/ since i was a kid#but suffice it all to say#i genuinely consider the new movie an L by the fact that Scrooge's problem is that he hates christmas#more than it is that he. idk. abuses his clerk while openly acknowledging he underpays him as well.#advocates workhouses and a bootstrap mentality#and is a malthusian social darwinist#so obsessed with the accumulation of capital that he *doesn't care* that he's causing harm to others#like yeah the character has sad aspects to his backstory but like. fndjfjdkfjek#part of the whole point is that he was making actively harmful selfish choices for years leading up to the present#and the only way to even hope to make up for them was to radically change everything about his relationship to capital#its not *just* abt being nice to the cratchitts. its great that he does become nicer to bob#but the point is also that he needs to stop valuing money above quality of life for *everyone*#and idk man idk it bugs me when it gets simplified down#anyway. -sits down with my Jim Carrey mocap version-
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blkkizzat · 7 months
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⋆༺𓆩𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𓆪༻⋆
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18+ Only - Minors DNI Kinks: Boob job, Riding, Edging, Sadism/Darcryphilla, Overstimulation, Double Penetration/Cockwarming A/N: So I am a flop and I went out this weekend and now I have homework to do so I couldn't finish my first Kinktober fic on time but hopefully by this Weds! I did want to post SOMETHING for the 1st day of Kinktober so I hope this suffices! This isn't officially apart of my Kinktober Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals but will add this to the bottom of the list as a bonus! WK: 2.1k Song Inspo: Monster - Lady Gaga (slightly) Slightly black fem coded but no descriptors
Edit - 11/1: The Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK men is now up as a part 2!
Enjoy!
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Gojo: Tittyfucking
He might be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and fight curses more terrifying than anything a Hollywood writer can imagine but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t going to scream like a bitch at the tinniest jump scare.  
You watch horror movies with your boyfriend Gojo so he can comfort you but you end up being the one holding on to him.
You suspect at times though he plays it up a bit, just so he can lay his head on your soft tits and rub his face in between them when a “scary part” comes on.
Your suspicions are confirmed when his hands slip up your shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your tits.
“Aw come, on babe let me just play with them a little– they’re like stress balls.” This always results in him somehow convincing you to let him straddle you. Gojo is placing his already-dripping-and-hard cock between your tits even before half the movie is over. “Aw, come on pretty girl, I’m so close! Open up that tight little mouth for me wide like you scream when a scary part comes on.” He groans out as he fucks himself between your soft tiddies. “You mean the way you scream Satoru!?” you retort rolling your eyes.  Clearly you haven't learned much Gojo thinks. Your slick mouth gets you into trouble frequently with him and you are quickly silenced when he reaches back and shoves 3 long fingers in your dripping cunt. Your pussy tightens as his fingers continue to bully themselves deeper thrusting in time with his hips into your breasts. AHHH! SHIIIIIIIT TORU, F-FUCK! “No sweet girl, I mean the way you screamed just now.” Gojo says smugly taking advantage of your scream to bust ropes of his hot seed on your tongue.
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Nanami: Riding
Nanami loves to do things you like to do to make you happy. He even will sit through one of your trashy horror movies without complaint.  
Although he might end up reading a novel or the paper after 15-20 minutes, he will never miss a chance to give you reassuring kisses to the temple or a rub on your lower back whenever you get scared. 
However you can’t watch horror movies with him because you are actually the one always distracted by him.
The way his handsome face looks utterly uninterested in the movie other than an arched brow on occasion but still is still sitting here for you and even makes sure to take care of you is too sexy to you.
So sexy you slowly become less interested in whatever the hell you were watching and more needy for him to pay attention to you. 
This always results with you bouncing in his lap midway through. “What about your monster movie Y/N?” Nanami questions you amused. His voice has an air teasing concern. Your mouth goes slack as drool and moans spill from your lips, you can’t form a reply. You just lean to bury your head into his neck wrapping your arms around him holding on. When you tire yourself like this, Nanami assists in you riding him as his hands grip your soft waist. He brings you up to his tip almost pulling out of you completely before he forcibly drives you further back down onto his dick. You bottom out on him every time your hips come down on his lap, you’re practically screaming at this point. “Nothing more monstrous than Daddy’s cock stretching this tight cunt full, isn't that right doll?” Nanami coos in your ear.
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Toji: Edging 
Yeah you’ve just gotten to the point where you don’t even put on a movie to watch when Toji is over. 
His attention span for it is zero as nothing scares his ass ever so the opening credits aren’t even over before he already has his hand down your pants.
Toji lazily plays with your clit and teases your pussy with his fingers while you try and fail miserably to ignore him enough to watch your movie. 
You pouted at him as you really wanted to watch your favorite horror movie tonight!
However by the 20 minute mark you are now begging him to let you come.  
“Nah, baby see this is the good part.” Toji says, smirking into the back of your neck. Toji has not a single fucking clue what’s happening in the movie he just wants to teach you a lesson.  He sucks on the back of your neck hard enough to leave a mark, making you moan. However, you are still left unsatisfied. Just when you think the burning between your legs will consume you he resumes digging his thick fingers into your guts. Toji knows your insides so well he knows how your pussy feels the moment before your body will release sweet toe-curling-bliss and his hands come to a complete stop again. “Daddy, Puh-leaseee!” You beg with tears in your eyes as you lean your head back to pout at him. You grab the hand in your cunt to try to force him to move again to no avail. “Not a chance, brat. You wanted to watch this shitty ass movie so bad. So we are going to watch the entire fucking thing before I let you come Y/N.” "What are we even watching– " Toji grabs the remote and the overlay pops up. "Oh Alien? Yeah, you picked a long one this time slut, buckle up."
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Choso: Overstimulation
Choso’s edgy emo ass is more than happy to watch horror movies with you. 
However due to his curse abilities, Choso is constantly pointing out the technical feasibility of the movie so much it ruins it for you. 
Don't let it be a slasher movie as Choso is non-stop critiquing “That blood spray pattern isn’t realistic” and “Did you know you could lose up to 40% of your blood?” 
You end up being so annoyed with your forensic encyclopedia boyfriend you grab his face to kiss him in order to stop his ranting.
Choso ends up repentant as the death painter comes to the realization he forgot himself again and ends up spoiling yet another scary movie for you.
Choso hates upsetting his princess so he always ends up trying to make it up to you. Truly, just shutting the hell up and watching the movie would be enough for you. Yet that wasn’t good enough repentance for Choso and as a result you ended up face down on the sofa while he ate you out from the back.  A true munch to the core this man was a messy eater. Tongue, lips, nose all up in your cunt. Slurping, lapping, nibbling– Choso kept his face in your pussy gobbling up your juices like he hadn’t consumed any liquid in days. He once remarked your pussy tasted more refreshing than water. You would wonder when the man even took time for a breath if he didn’t have you squirting to the point of mind numbing overstimulation, your legs shaking and chest heaving. “Keep those hips up Y/N baby, I’m not done apologizing.”   He slaps your ass and is so transfixed by how your pussy dribbles out a lil more squirt he does it again, returning his mouth to your cunt to suck out more fluids.  “FuckFuck I- F-uck… I f-forgive you C-Choso damnit -OH!,” you babbled and came on his tongue again for the umpteenth time that night.  "That's it baby, keep being messy on my face yeah? Let me show that nasty lil slit how sorry I am, 'kay?" Completely pussy drunk Choso sounded deranged. This man was going to completely dehydrate you before the night was over. 
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Geto: Sadism/Darcryphilla 
Geto is probably the easiest one to watch horror movies with by far. He actually is amused by them and how bad they all are.
He will let you lay reclined on him and run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly giving you a scalp massage.
The big problem here though is that your squeals and yelps of fear make his dick throb.
Even better if you get so scared there's tears that start falling. He wont be able to stop his hard dick from straining against the fabric of his pants.
Geto loves to hear you cry out so much that if the movie isn’t scary enough he had been so inclined on occasion to release a relatively harmless, yet gruesome looking, curse to pop up behind the TV. He would wait for a suspenseful part to really give you a fright and start the waterworks.
Although as much as he loves the sound of your cries there’s a sound he loves even more.
“F-Fuck, you hear her princess?” Geto is ruthless when he is pussydrunk and he makes you hold your legs wider for better access as he roughly splits open your cunt in a mating press.  Your pussy is a gooey mess as you cream around him from what has to be the 5th time that night. In your own cockdrunk stupor you wonder how long he has been pumping into you and filling you up now.  Is the movie over?  But you can’t see anything as his long hair and dark robes dangle open around you. You also can’t hear anything except for the obscene squelch of fluids gushing out of your cunt. All you can do is hold your legs and take Geto’s assault on your body until he had his fill of you. “Sugu–” you sobbed in protest but he cut you off. “Shhh, Y/N quiet while she’s talking to me–” He reaches down grabbing your soaked and discarded panties before balling them up. Geto pushed them into your mouth, muffling your cries as thick tears seeped down your face.  “Awe, baby I love you… but I only want to hear from her right now. Shit, this filthy pussy is a real scream queen.”
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Sukuna: Double Penetration/Cockwarming
Yeah he is straight up the worst to watch with. 
He will most definitely ridicule you and make you feel like an idiot when you ask him to watch a scary movie of all things with you. 
“Oh my ditzy lil’ slut wants to see something scary?” No, you remind him you do NOT want to find some random sorcerers just to see just how quickly and in how many different ways his Malevolent Shrine domain could kill someone.
If you pout enough though he eventually relent. On his terms.
Sukuna lets you know if you get what you want, he gets what he wants too.
What does Sukuna want? He wants you double stuffed and dumb on his cocks, of course. Your cunt and your ass are both stretched to their limits from his huge twin cocks in his True Form. Sukuna tells you mockingly long as you kept sitting nice ‘n pretty for him, he would watch the movie with you. “Hmmmrghhhh”, you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles. It’s hard to even breathe when you are this full of him. You feel as if his dicks are reaching up into your throat as you choke for air. Winded from just sitting on him, the gravity alone had you cockdrunk on him almost instantly as you felt his four hands everywhere along your body. You gasp out loud when you hear him laugh and the hardy vibrations from his chest travel straight into your pussy. You clench and cream around his cocks. Not even his huge cocks could plug you up enough to keep from dripping a big giant wet spot onto your sofa that he definitely wont be helping you clean up later. “HA! Brat, you see that fucking loser who cried ‘I’ll never leave you’ then his head flew off two seconds later? What a dumbfuck.”  Scary movies were like comedies to The King of Curses.  He slaps your thigh for emphasis. Sukuna is both equally entertained by how stupid the movies humans called 'horror' are as well as you trying to keep from blacking out on his cocks. An hour in, you were doing so well he smirked. “Brat!” Sukuna growled when you didn’t answer him. You were supposed to be watching the fucking movie.  “Come on slut, pay attention" he taps your cheek (lighter than you expect) as you gurgle back in response, completely gone. "Don't cry so hard for me to watch next time brat if y'er gonna tap out like this just from sitting on some cocks.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: Reblog or comment and tell me which JJK man you'd watch with. Likes are appreciated as well!
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iceunhie · 8 months
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voicelines about you: as their lover !
featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)
notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!
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Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)
About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.
About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.
About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.
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Gepard Landau
About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?
About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.
About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.
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Jing Yuan
About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…
About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.
(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.
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Jingliu
About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.
About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.
(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.
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Kafka
About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?
About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~
About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.
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© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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inkskinned · 5 months
Text
you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!
you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.
but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.
so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.
part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.
any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.
(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)
good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.
so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)
you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.
okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.
oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.
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reiding-writing · 4 months
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Omg imagine Reid being incredibly touch starved and literally having this very primal craving for affection to the point it's all he can think about but he cannot for the life of him get over his fear of germs and it's just all this angst and ahh
deprivation [ s.r ]
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Summary:
Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.
WARNINGS: germophobia, self deprecation, touch deprivation, emotional breakdown
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort
wc: 2.8k
masterlist!!
a/n: great minds must think alike because i was actually already working on this when the request came in😭
i made this less angsty than originally planned, but i hope it suffices nonetheless the less, thanks for the request! <33
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Spencer Reid was exhausted in every sense of the word.
His muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was so burnt out he didn’t even have any thing to say when JJ had incorrectly mentioned a ‘fact’ about a certain sub-species of butterfly that was supposedly native to Oregon.
His exhaustion only proved to get worse as the jet took off for Virginia, but the unfortunate rampaging of his own mind proved any chance of him sleeping on the flight home impossible.
“Hey… Are you okay?” Your voice seems to echo across the silence of the cabin despite you practically whispering to avoid waking your teammates, and Spencer’s eyes flicker up towards you, clearly not having expected you to be awake.
You stand up from your seat, walking down the aisle to take a seat on the sofa next to Spencer, his head resting in his hands as his eyes followed you. “You’ve been really quiet since the case ended,”
“I’m fine…” He said the words, but it wasn’t reflective of his tone of voice. There was something there. Something more, something beneath the words.
A sadness.
An uncertainty.
And if you listened to his voice, not just to his words, you’d hear a hint of pain, a deep seeded sense of misery that he was concealing beneath the usual layers of stoicism.
“Spencer you’re talking to a professional profiler, which I don’t even need to be to know that you’re not okay.” You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your mouth, turning to sit sideways to face him properly.
"I'm fine," He said the words again, and this time they held a touch of force. But the words did not match his tone, still pained, wounded, and silently pleading with him to just be honest with you.
And as the words came out of his mouth, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if hoping that what he was feeling would be gone by the time he opened them again.
But when they fluttered open through his eyelashes he was still on the sofa of the jet and you were still sitting there and he still felt miserable.
“If you don’t want to talk about it then I won’t pressure you,” You dejectedly resign yourself at Spencer’s insistence, leaning your left side against the back of the sofa. “But just know i’m here for you if you ever want to get something off your chest okay?”
"It's just...It's just-" He paused, biting his lip as if unsure about what he was about to say. He knew it may be dangerous to let himself slip. So he considered his words carefully before he spoke again. "...it's just been hard...I’m so stressed and...I'm...feeling vulnerable. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."
“Everyone’s gonna feel like that at some point Spence, especially in our line of work,” You tilt your head slightly at him, a soft expression painting your features that matches your tone.
"I know..." He said, " But...I don't like feeling like...like i can't cope. Like I'm scared. That's not who I am. I'm supposed to be the rational one. The smart one." Spencer dragged his palms up his face and back over his hair, leaning back against the sofa with his head leaned back against the wall.
“I don’t like being scared,”
And there, again, in that simple sentence was another hint of the hurt that his apprehension hadn’t managed to fully hide. “I’m meant to be better than that.”
“Spencer just because you are a functioning genius does not mean that you’re not allowed to be scared, that’s a part of what makes you human,” Your face furrows as you become increasingly concerned for Spencer and his mindset.
"I-...I know..." He said the words, but the underlying message was clear. He might know that he was supposed to have emotions and he might know that expressing them is healthy, but there was a part of him that was screaming at him to suppress them.
To bury his feelings and pretend to be the robot that his childhood (or lack thereof) had forced him to be.
He wasn't trying to be resistant, he was just...afraid.
“When was the last time you cried Spencer?” The question blurted it’s way out of your mouth as your concern for Spencer only continued to grow.
"Why would you ask me that?" His tone of voice was almost affronted by the question as if he were a little wounded that you had brought up something so sensitive.
He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and you swear that you could see his eyes glass over even in the dim lighting of the cabin. “Because i want to know exactly how much pent up emotion you’re dealing with right now,”
You make a conscious effort to relax your features as you look at him, sighing softly. “Please answer the question…”
Spencer took a second as he deliberated whether or not to answer your question, staring blankly across the cabin so he wouldn’t have to look at you.
"958 days ago."
He said the words coldly, but you could hear the emotion in the way he spoke them. This is the moment when he finally cracked. When he finally realised that hiding the way he felt wasn't a sustainable solution.
And its was also the point when he started to break down. The tears finally started to flow, and he couldn't stop them as much as he tried.
“Spence…” You reach out a hand towards him, but you barely get it up out of your lap before he firmly stops you.
"Don't..."
The words come out of him sharply, but there's something in his tone that saying the opposite. There’s a note of desperation in them. A plea. A cry for help. Because he wants you to touch him, he needs you to. But he's resistant to the idea, he keeps resisting it. “80% of communicable diseases are passed by physical contact. I don’t want to get sick.”
You curl up your hand into a ball as you let it fall back into your lap, pursing your lips as Spencer uses his statistical knowledge to stop you from touching him.
You knew he had an aversion to touch. That he was hyper aware of practically any illness that could possibly be transferred through human contact. You knew that he kept himself at a physical distance from everyone for a reason.
But you also knew that despite all of that he needed physical comfort. Words just weren’t going to cut it.
“It’s okay to need to be comforted…”
"I can get through this myself." He cuts you off harshly, and if you didn’t know that he was obviously mentally struggling his tone would’ve cut you deep.
He's in pain.
He's miserable.
And he's been alone for too long.
He needs emotional intimacy. He needs the affection and comfort of his friends.
He just can't bring himself to actually say that.
“Spencer, let me comfort you. please.” You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes follow a tear that falls down his face, leaving a water streak in its wake.
“It’s not healthy for you to ball yourself up like this,” You plead desperately with him to let down his emotional barriers and just let you help him.
"There's nothing wrong with me." His words are still cold, but he's wavering now. His shoulders are lowering, his hands loosening from fists to lying flat on either side of him.
He wants you to touch him. He wants the affection that he's been deprived of for so long. But there's still that part in him that's resisting. The voice in his head telling him he can't.
“There doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you for you to need comfort Spencer,” You attempt again to hesitantly reach out a hand towards you, but your advances are again immediately shot down.
"Please.. Don't touch me." His words come out weakly. He's desperately resisting, but the tears are still flowing down his cheeks and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down.
“…Are you sure?” You hand retreats back to your side the second he denies you, but you both know he’s not entirely convinced of his own boundaries.
"I'm sure."
He's lying.
The tears were still streaming down his cheeks, and even one quick look at his eyes could tell you that he was desperate to be touched.
He was craving human interaction. But the words were still coming out of his mouth. He wasn't ready yet, not quite yet.
Your hand falls to the gap between the two of you on the sofa, a few inches left between his hand and yours as you suppress a sigh at the clear desperation coating his face despite his denial of your touch.
But you don’t want to overstep the boundary, even if he’s not 100% sure of it himself.
He stares back at you, still resisting the urge to reach out for your hand, even though he's not sure why. He knows that he would feel better if he could grab you and put his head on your shoulder, letting the weight of all of his problems wash away.
But there was still the little voice in his head shouting "Don't. Don't touch them. Don't." And he was struggling. Fighting with every inch of his being for self-control.
As the two of you fall into a slightly tense silence, you make a small movement to breaking Spencer’s self made barrier as you edge your pinky finger towards his own, just barely brushing his skin as you keep your eyes plastered on the opposite wall.
His eyes follow your fingers as they inch their way closer and closer to his. And when - at long last - you make contact, Spencer freezes. Time seems to just stand still as his eyes are transfixed on the single point of contact between your fingers and his.
He doesn't move, he doesn't speak. He just watches.
Over 200 breeds of bacteria are passed through people’s hands for every second they’re in contact.
But he can’t seem to pull himself away.
Because this is the connection he seeks. This is the release he needs. And finally, finally he gets it.
You continue to gently bridge the gap as your pinky finger links itself with Spencer’s, squeezing it with a gentle pressure as you try desperately to stop your eyes from averting back to him.
The second your finger links with his, a dam of emotions breaks. The tears flow faster and he lets out a whimper in the back of his throat.
As soon as you touch him, he leans into the feeling and turns his hand over, pressing his palm and his other fingers against your own, wanting more, needing more of this sensation that he's been starved of for so long.
You respond enthusiastically at his acceptance of the contact, interlacing your fingers together and giving his hand a soft squeeze as you finally bring your gaze back towards his face.
“You’re going to be alright Spencer…”
The moment your hand falls into his is a moment of sweet release. The flood gates have opened, the dam has broken, and there are no barriers between him and the overwhelming emotions he's been forced to bottle up.
And as the dam breaks so too does that small, insistent voice telling him to reject contact. That small voice that tells him he can't have physical affection.
Because that small voice is wrong.
And when you squeeze his hand he brings no hesitation into melting into you completely and burying his face into the crook of your neck.
You immediately shift to accommodate Spencer’s weight against your body, breaking the contact of your hands to pull him into a firm but comforting embrace, rubbing soft lines up and down his back as the other held his head against your shoulder.
With tears still flowing down his cheeks and his head buried in your neck, he lets out a soft, contented whimper.
His body relaxes in your embrace, and just lies there in your arms.
He's safe. He's finally safe, and it feels good. He no longer needs to hold himself together. And for the first time in years, he feels loved.
“I’ve got you…” You whisper the affirmation softly into Spencer’s hair as you rest your nose against the crown of his head.
He lets out more soft whimpers, his body relaxing as he leans into the comfort of your embrace, finally allowing himself to just let go.
He takes in big breaths, drinking in your scent as he tries to slow his breathing. He's still crying, but the tears aren't so severe anymore. He's finally started to calm down.
You lean backwards against the seat to support both of your weights comfortably as you focus on soothing Spencer through his emotions, running your fingers gently through his hair and massaging softly at his scalp.
The soft strokes against his head bring a wave of shivers, but they aren't like the shivers that he had felt when he'd been shaking so much.
These are better, these are warm and comforting, and it was like the tension was leaving his body from his head all the way down to his toes.
It feels good, it feels right.
Your touch was healing, and his whole body is relaxing in the gentle massage of your fingers.
“when was the last time you got a full night’s rest Spence..?” The question is soft against his ear as you continue to gently scratch and massage Spencer’s scalp, pulling him slightly towards you with your other arm to secure him safely in your lap.
“I… A while ago…” His words were hushed and sleepy, the exhaustion evident in the slight rasp that was present in his voice. He's been so caught up in the case and the work that he hasn't given a moment's thought to taking care of himself.
He's running on caffeine and willpower. He’s exhausted.
“You should get some sleep…” You carefully adjust the way yo two are sat until you are lying flat on your back with Spencer splayed out on top of you, burying himself in your presence at every point possible.
“I will…”
He's lying.
And based on the fact that his eyes are still squeezed tight against you and the way he's practically buried his body into yours it's clear that even he knows that he's lying.
There's no way that he can sleep right now. Not when he's finally feeling safe. When he's finally found comfort. He plans to bask in it for as long as possible.
“I’ll still be here when you wake up Spencer,” You know that he knows that you know he’s lying. “Get some rest,”
"But-"
He wants to hold this moment, to cling to this moment, trying to delay the passing of time just a little longer.
"I-“
He falters, realising that he's fighting against losing an argument that has already ended. He forces himself to breathe in and out in a slow and deliberate way as he resigns himself to the inevitability of falling asleep.
“…promise?”
He sounds less like a genius and more like a scared child when he says those words. A child who wants to be reassured. Who wants to be told that everything will be okay. That he'll be taken care of when he wakes up from his slumber.
“I promise.”
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