#trans/enby reader

[kamurawaffles5684]

Nick Valentine comfort bc why not. It’s been a while since I was writing something.

Tw for family issues, Dysphoria, transphobia/homiphobia/etc, past/depictions of SH, mental health issues, and overall just a lot of things that go on in one’s head when they are suffering from mental health issues.

[ Family is not by blood, it is by love ]

It had been a long night of work at The Dugout Inn. It was your main job outside of being an intern for Nick Valentine, especially since he desperately needed an extra set of hands and eyes on his cases now that Ellie had been helping the fated Sole Survivor get back on their feet.

You tiredly walked home in the rain, knowing what would likely ensue the moment you stepped in the door of your parents’ home. One you grew to hate being in. Despite being an adult, caps were hard to come by nowadays. After Diamond City entered a recession, everyone was working overtime. Even your own damned parents. The parents that only saw you as your birth gender. Ones that never validated you. Your mother had tried, oh she had tried to make you feel more validated. She kept saying that she wouldn’t understand but she would never not love you. But she never used your preferred pronouns or name. She didn’t even bother trying. And your father…he hated you. He hated everything about you the moment you came out to him. The moment you saw the world in your own eyes instead of his. Your father was a wretched, bigoted man. And yet you still stayed in that house. With your bigoted parents. Because you couldn’t afford to leave. No matter how many times your father had yelled hurtful words at you despite your mother’s peace-bringing words. No matter how many screaming matches you had with him, yelling at him about his own actions. His own hypocritical behavior and bigoted, narcissistic attitude. It brought you to angry tears knowing they were never going to listen, and yet no matter what, you still tried to make them at least try and accept you. Try and realize you weren’t going to change. No matter how much they hated the idea of you changing.

You were just about in the doorway when your father came yelling about you identifying yourself differently. He yelled at you that you were never going to be the gender you wanted to be. That it was whatever demon he believed in and you didn’t. You were able to tune him out most nights…but tonight you snapped. You screamed obscenities back at him, calling him out for being so…so heartless. So hateful. Towards his own child, no less. One that he had the obligation to protect and love, but instead chose to fret over them not being a perfect carbon copy of himself. To get angry at you for just trying to be yourself. You left in a hurry, your old school bag that you used for work on your back, grateful for having a binder on your body. The sight of your body made you sick. You couldn’t even shower without wanting to scratch and pick at whatever skin you saw as imperfect, as a disgusting mass of tissue and muscle. It would render you looking like an addict, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be perceived as the gender you were. Not as the gender you were born as. It had gotten bad enough that you had began to relapse again…you only somewhat stopped because of Nick. And now, as you rushed out the door, sobbing in anger, frustration and out of pure despair, you were at Nick’s doorstep.

The lights were on. That was a good sign. That meant that Nick or Ellie was still up. You stepped inside, frustrated that the door handle was sticking from the wasteland being so cruel to the architecture of Diamond City.

“Kid…?” Nick looked up. He saw just how ruined you were. How you were going to relapse at any moment if it wasn’t for you running off to the agency to begin with.

“Kid what’s going on? Are you okay?” Nick’s voice went cold with worry. He had never seen you like this. He had seen you cry, he had seen you struggle, but he had never seen you absolutely wrecked like you were now.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face, trying desperately not to sob. Nick didn’t hesitate to get up and attempt to comfort you, putting his mechanical hands on your shoulders, urging you to sit down before you collapsed on him. You nearly choked on your own words as you explained what had happened. “My dad…my dad found out…he found out.” You broke down as you recalled just what happened. You fought with him, and you ran off, knowing he would kick you out sooner or later.

“Oh no…kiddo…” Nick’s voice softened. He knew that it was going to happen. You both knew. You just didn’t know it would happen now.

“Easy, kiddo. You’ll be ok. Just let it out. We both got ya. You’re safe, kid. You’re safe.” Nick was almost uncharacteristically soft spoken and gentle as he let you cry into his arms, his grip somewhat tightening as you shook with disbelief and frustration, your sobs muffled by the fabric of his

It took a while to get yourself to calm down. Your eyes stung as the tears came to a halt, exhausted.

Nick held you close to his body, stroking your head like a parent would when they were calming down their child. And in a way, Nick was your parent. He wasn’t just your boss. He was the only person who really accepted you for your own self. He was your only support system.

“Just breathe. I got you.” Nick reassured, letting you lean on his metal body, keeping you safe from your own head. After a long moment of silence, you spoke, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Nick…why is it so hard for them to accept me…I don’t get it…”

“Well, kid. Some people don’t understand how things work…and it scares them. It scares them so much they turn angry. They feel like only their way should be the right way. And don’t even stop to consider how others might feel…I know, it’s rough kid…” Nick absentmindedly brushed a stray hair from your forehead.

“Yeah…yeah I know…” you sighed, knowing that he was right.

“Family isn’t defined by blood…it’s about who cares about ‘ya. I want you to know that, alright? So no matter what happens to you, you always got a spot here with Ellie and I, Got it, kiddo? We won’t ever turn ya away.” Nick hugged you again, standing up.

“Yeah. Thank you, Nick…that…that means a lot to me.” You gave a weak smile, steadily getting up, legs still shaking from sprinting down to the agency.

“Why dont’cha room with me and Ellie tonight? It’d be better if I knew you wouldn’t be hurt. And don’t worry about taking up space, kiddo. We already got a couch set up back when that Vault Dweller worked with us full time.” Nick placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the back of the office where Ellie and Nick slept.

“Yeah…yeah I’d like that…”

[Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall.]

You and Nick had been dating for a while. And he knew full well about your identity…how your parents weren’t accepting, how you hated looking in mirrors…even how you relapsed out of pure disgust over yourself.

And tonight was no different. You had been laying in bed, tending to your newest relapse, pain shooting through your body, it’s sickly, bittersweet feeling lulling you into a world of bleak thoughts and bad memories. You stared down at your body…your mouth went dry just looking at the silhouette of your chest. The silhouette of your hips. You squeezed your eyes shut, sighing deeply, as Nick came home.

“Hon’ I’m home.” He called, setting his coat on the coatrack and his fedora on the table.

“Don’t tell me you ain’t here, now…” He said to himself, starting to look for you, calling for you. You only spoke up when he started to get a little bit nervous, not being able to find you.

“I’m in here, nick..” you tiredly called, curling up away from the door out of habit.

“Ah..,there you are. Are…are you doin’ ok, hon? You seem down tonight. Somethin’ happen?” Nick enters the room, coming up beside you to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“I’m,..I’m fine Nick, just tired, is all..”

“You sure? You don’t sound fine…” Nick could tell something was off…and it was better to not lie about it than try to lie, knowing he’d find out either way.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Another one of those days, huh?” Nick’s voice became gentle, knowing what had happened.

“Oh, hon’…I’m sorry…you should’ve called me. I would’a came home sooner.” Nick slowly slipped into bed next to you, holding you in his arms.

“I know…but I didn’t wanna bother you while you were out on that case…I thought I could handle it on my own.”

Nick sighed, running his hands over your shoulders reassuringly. “You know I’m here for you. You don’t have to keep these things secret…you shouldn’t have to “handle things yourself” either, sweetheart. That isn’t how things get better. You’ll just get yourself killed if ya keep trying to trudge along like this…and that ain’t right. Not at all.”

You gave a tired sigh, almost collapsing into his chest as he held you from behind, his mechanical body gently whirring underneath his synthetic skin as the closeness of the two of you soothed both of your anxious thoughts. “I know…I just…I don’t know, Nick. I couldn’t stop myself…”

“And that’s alright…I’m not mad at you. I’m just worried, is all. Concerned for ya.” Nick felt the razor against his chest as his hands brushed against your sides, reaching for the front pocket of your sweatshirt and setting it off to his side of the bed. “…You wanna tell me what happened?”

You nodded slowly, explaining to him how bad your dysphoria got, somewhat crying as you felt the frustration of the situation. Nick listened attentively, idly running his hands through your hair as you explained, feeling you hug his body somewhat tighter than before out of comfort.

“Oh…oh sweetheart…” Nick held you against his chest, as if he didn’t want to let you go. If he was human, he would have been sobbing by now, just hearing how much it hurt you to see yourself like that…hear how others thought of you. “I’m so sorry…”

As you explained yourself to Nick, you started crying, hating how such little things could set you back and make you feel sick.

“Hey…hey look at me” Nick noticed you crying, gently cupping your face and making you look up at him, noticing how you looked away in frustration and embarrassment. You didn’t like crying. And Nick knew that all too well. “Hon…listen now, alright? You are perfect as you are. You got it? Those people out there…they’re wrong…you’re just as much of a person as anyone else in this wasteland. And I won’t let you think anything different, you hear? You’re the best thing I could’a asked for…and you’re more human than anyone else in this damn world…no matter what you look like…no matter if you pass or not…you’re valid. You are loved. Both me an’ Ellie won’t ever leave you like that. And more people need to see you for who you really are…and not what they think of you…”

You felt your head hit Nick’s shoulder lightly as your exhaustion got to you, small tears being wiped away from your face by Nick’s gentle hands, his embrace keeping you safe. “I love you…” you croak out, your voice weak from crying so much. You feel better with him, even if the pain was still lingering. You felt safe in his arms, despite the brutality of Diamond City…and you needed to keep it that way. Not just for you. But because you knew it would crush Nick if he knew something happened…

“I love you too, hon.”

[yunnimilk]

could u do a fyodor with sub, gn reader with dumbification, overstim, biting and choking too with a red and white theme? (( something non canon, like him being a secret vampire priest or something of the like and reader is a devoted worshipper of his Church mayhaps..)) .. drabble, or full fic for me is fine eitherway!!

「 ✦ AMAB! DOMTOP! Fyodor Dostoevsky x AMAB! GN! SUBBOT! Reader

{ sorry it was a drabble, I started my second year of college so I had a lot of work to do }

DRABBLE !!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine being a membef at a church, you've decided to devote your life to god. Collecting donations and volunteering around the chapel isn’t anything new. Sometimes it was boring, but, this was the price to pay if you wanted to show your dedication to the lord , (^ε^)♪

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | The head pastor introduces a devilishly handsome man to you, asking you to tour him around the church buldings. The stranger had fairly pale skin with reflective dark hair that contrasted with it. Deep purple eyes that suck you in, you couldn't help but blush, which was embarrassingly evident on your face ! ◟꒰◍´Д‵◍꒱◞

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | His soft smiles take your breath away, your heart being pulled out of your chest. You take every opportunity to lovingly stare at his face, and you also got caught several times, but it seemed like he enjoyed your company !

ﾍ(≧▽≦ﾍ) ♪

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | he seemed off though, sometimes his skin would turn grayer and he would avoid mirrors. It's such a coincidence, vampires aren't real, you're being silly !

('A｀*)

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | But,,, one day, you found the man kneeling over, trying to hold his composure. Fyodor was sweating profusely as his fangs sharpened when you got closer to him, letting out a meekly, “f.. father ?”. He stayed still for a moment, his back was turned so you couldn’t see his expression . ( •́ㅿ•̀ )

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Suddenly, he lunges at you! You barely had time to react, instead, you felt a sharp pain in your neck and a wet sensation going down your collarbone. Your eyes found Fyodor's head, him draining all the fluid out your neck. It was really painful at first, then it turned so electrifying, sending shivers righr down your cock . (•ө•)♡

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine Fyodor licking your neck and taking off your clothes, his moist tongue on your skin and you felt yourself getting harder and harder. Your soft moans encourage him to continue . ( ¯ ρ¯ )

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Some time later and your head is buried in your pillows while Fyodor was plunging into you, sloppy and firm. Grinding inside your guts to make sure your prostate gets bullied by his cock, your body was so sore, from the bites and especially from Fyodor's relentless thrusts . o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Your mind was far gone, everything was getting fuzzy and your cheeks were soaked from your tears, your tight, puffy hole making a squelching sound everytime he dug his cock into you. Your body stained from your cum and your blood, what a pretty painting ! ୧(-᷅ ہ-᷄)୨

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | He reaches down your neck as you let out a melodious whimper. Fyodor loves your pretty sounds, to him, it's the same as the church choir, so he's going to make sure you sing for him some more ! ��﹏•

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Your cock was so tired just trying to pump out semen, it was throbbing so badly. You begged Fyodor to have mercy on you, "P...plEASE! I- I don't.. I CAN'T.. c-c...come anymore! ~", he tugged your hair back, so you could look at him, "then release yourself for me, one last time, my dear", he went quicker to feel your walls tightening up ! ⚆_⚆

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine your eyes rolling back as you felt euphoria coursing through your body as you stiffen up. Your hole squeezing Fyodor's dick, him grunting as his cum intrudes inside your guts ,

"I changed my mind, actually, let's go for another hour hm?"

[enbyscript]

6 or 8 from the prompt lists with dr robby !! whichever you like more!

oooooOOOOO ok ok ok heres what im workin with. let me know if you prefer these getting straight to the point or if the background/scene setting is important

sorry it took so long, saturdays r my napping days so i spend most of it unconscious lmao

you weren’t that inebriated, pleasantly tipsy after a night out with colleagues at the bar by the hospital. the alcohol warmed your belly and made your fingers tingle. but that heat started to pool lower than you expected, having spent a good 30 minutes squirming in your seat as santos and ellis talked loudly, everyone else more amused by the spectacle than whatever was going on with you.

from across the bar your eyes were trained on robby, leaning against the bar top with abbot talking his ear off. he looked so fucking good out of his scrubs, a dark green buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forearms thick with dark hair just out for anyone to ogle. the more you stared the worse your squirming got, discharge seeping into your boxers as you imagines those forearms littered with bite marks and wrapped around your throat.

robby’s eyes finally met yours, warm dark brown that made your blood feel like molasses in your veins. he was too aware, recognition on his face as he took in what could only look like discomfort. he raised his eyebrows, then his eyes flit to the back of the bar where you knew the gender neutral restroom was. a single restroom with a lock on the door. thank whatever higher being there was that robby was able to read you like a book, and had an empathetic streak.

you gave one swift nod, everyone at your booth still paying you no real mind. you excused yourself to the restroom and tried to walk slowly, despite the anticipation roaring blood in your ears. didn’t want to make it too obvious. after you shut the door behind you and leaned your back against the adjacent wall you waited, tapping your foot impatiently against the sticky floor.

thirty seconds passed by before a single knock hit the door and robby’s imposing figure slipped into the restroom, nimble fingers locking the door behind him.

his cheeks were pink, so you knew he wasn’t past the point of no return. his eyes were dark as he crowded you against the wall, hands heavy on your waist.

“what’s the matter, bub? lookin’ a lil antsy there,” his fingers began to trail under the fabric of your shirt, rubbing soothing circles into your heated flesh.

“s’too warm, robby,” you mumbled, nosing at the underside of his jaw. “can i have you now? please?” you let your tongue trail along his neck, a shudder running down the older man’s spine as you reacquainted yourself with his taste. the salty flavor of his skin making your core clench down on nothing, eager to feel him properly.

robby groaned, grinding his hardening cock into your hip. he let you mouth at his throat, wet open mouthed kisses trailing their way towards his lips. your lips met like a wave meeting the beach, an inevitable meeting of two forces of nature. robby’s fingers made work to undo your pants, bringing the fabric and your boxers halfway down your hips for easy access.

he gasped into your mouth a upon feeling how wet you were between your legs, your hips grinding down at the light pressure his fingers provided you, rubbing circles around your aching clit.

“oh my poor baby, i gotchu. gonna make it right, okay?”

robby guided you to the sink, bracing your hands on the edge and bending you over gently at the waist, one hand rubbing against your spine soothingly as his other released his member from his jeans. he’d been leaking pre since he recognized the pained arousal on your face in the busy bar, aching for something to touch you. for him to touch you.

he jerked himself languidly, wetting his member with the discharge from his tip and rubbing against your lips to collect your wetness. you whined, grinding back against his cock impatiently. “y’feel so good, robby.”

robby notched himself at your hole, hips pulling back and forth as he gently eased himself in. fuck you were so warm, his hands trembled as he wrapped one forearm around your shoulders, rubbing his furred cheek against the side of your head. “just a quick one baby, then we’ll get outta here. i’ll get you home,” he growled into your ear as he finally bottomed out, other hand coming up quickly to cover your mouth as a wail nearly ripped out of you at finally being full.

“gotta be quiet, can’t let everyone know how good ‘m treatin’ you,” your thighs trembled at the brutal pace robby set, his jeans rubbing the backs of your thighs raw from the material. you held onto his forearm, keeping you close with his front heavy against your back. he shifted his stance and rammed into you, the new angle making you cry into his palm as you leaned against the sink.

“there’s my guy, you’re almost there, bub. i’ve got you,” robby nestled his cheek against your own. he fucked into you harder, slamming into your sopping center. by the way you clenched and fluttered around him it was evident you were at the precipice. he kept his pace, holding tight and whispering how good you were for him and how great you were doing. the praise sent pulses into your belly as you finally hurdled over the cliff of your impending finish.

robby followed suit, moaning against your ear as his hips stuttered, keeping his hips flush with yours so every single drop stayed inside. his hand dropped from your mouth, giving you perfect opportunity to press your lips against the forearm still holding you.

the two of you stayed like that for a moment, basking in the after glow momentarily before untangling yourselves. robby helped pull your boxers and pants back up, turning you around so he could fasten the buttoning and kiss your forehead affectionately.

“now, you’re not feelin’ too good, so i’m gonna take you home and make sure you rest. that’s the story, bub, try not too look to pleased with yourself,” you grinned, staring up at robby with as much affection as you could muster in a single look.

[moth-murdock]

A Good Day? [Frank Castle x Gn!reader]

A/n: written for @mattmurdocksscars 2.5K celebration! I honestly misread the thing at first and thought we were submitting requests for the prompts but NGL I had fun with this so fuck it we ball

Genre: uhhhh irdk it's not particularly fluffy or angst but def not smut... Just BAMF frank castle protecting his boo

Summary: frank castle thinks he can just have a good day? Lol. Lmao.

Warnings: gun mention

Other tags: Gn!reader, no pronouns used, no body description, clothes described, low cut pants and high cut shirt, sorry if that's not your aesthetic but I made an executive decision

Word count: 839 (sorry it's so short😭)

Today was supposed to be a good day. You had been bratty all morning, sending teasing texts and pictures to Frank. This means that he now got to had to go home and fuck some sense into you. But he should have known better. It was too good to be true. He's clocked 2 snipers on the walk home, and seen the same car drive past three times.

He knows how to play it off, act oblivious. It's the best move, considering he was dumb enough to not carry today. He needed to make it home to you. Make sure you're safe before anything. So, as much as it kills him, he continues his leisurely pace home, still teasing you over text and telling you which street corner he's at.

"Be home in a few. You better be ready."

"And if I'm not?"

"You will be."

You were horny off the charts. You'd been wanting some tough love from Frank lately, and today was the perfect day to brat. Neither of you had any plans, and both of you were off early. The stars had aligned. So you wait at home, wearing the low cut pants and high cut shirt combo that you know drives Frank crazy, especially when you wear that one pair of underwear that is the perfect fit for the elastic band to peek out from under the pants.

You felt good enough to eat, as Frank would lovingly put it, and you were completely oblivious to the 3 or more men who were currently taking Frank home. Luckily, they didn't know where he was going, otherwise you would have at least 1 bullet in your body by now. You get goosebumps when you hear footsteps coming down the hallway of the apartment building, no doubt Frank's heavy steps.

Frank puts his keys into the doorknob, trying to continue playing it cool. He knows he won't have much time when he gets into the apartment, so he'll need to act quickly. He takes a deep breath to buy time, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. He'll go in fast, and tell you to get down before the bullet even goes through the glass of the window. It was a solid plan considering he only had two seconds to come up with it, and he'd figure out the rest as he went.

You are practically shaking as you hear the door finally squeak open, and your out of had the intended reaction. Frank pauses when he sees you, his plan having gone out the window momentarily. He opens his mouth to tell you to get down, but his dick had other plans.

"Bend over." He utters, though it sounds like he's choking on his words.

"Or what?" You tease, unaware of the danger.

It's by some miracle that the first bullet misses you, just barely grazing your arm. Frank snaps out of it then, tackling you to the floor just before a whole barrage of shots is unloaded into your apartment. Frank shields your body with his, covering as much of you as he can while you let out a string of curses from the bullet that grazed you. Because despite not getting actually shot, it still hurt like a bitch.

He waits until the bullets have stopped, indicating that your attackers are reloading. At that point, he lifts his head and looks around to be sure. Lots of things were damaged in the onslaught, and the worst one of all was a stuffed animal you had laying on the couch. You had ordered it online because it reminded you of Frank with its grumpy expression. He always pretended to hate it, but you both knew he loved it. And now there was a gaping hole in it's chest, polyester stuffing coming out like some pg-rated Gore.

He gets off of you and crawls over to get one of many guns hidden around the apartment. He checks to make sure that it's loaded before standing up, and firing a few shots out of the now broken window. You hear two heavy thuds, but he's still tracking something out there. Before you can ask, he's pulling you up and checking your arm.

"You okay?" He asks quietly

"Better than the alternative..." You wince as you put pressure on the wound

"Nicked you, huh?"

"It's not that deep, I think... I'll be fine." You assure him.

"I'll be back. Okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"They hurt you while tryin to get to me. No way in hell am I gonna let that slide." He mutters before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss that seems to steal your breath away, making you momentarily forget your arm is hurt.

"Uh... Yeah... Okay..." You nod when he pulls away.

He lets out a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head before leaving. You know he's going to come back covered in blood that's not his own, but honestly... You can't find it in you to be upset.

My Masterlist | celebration masterlist

[hwatermelons]

unconventional gender neutral terms of endearment ^^

(mostly made this cause my drafts always have "baby" a million times and then i replace them lol)

- pretty (as in pretty girl/boy, but without the gender word attached) - starlight/my star, sunshine - honestly if you put "my" before anything it could probably work as an endearment - animals: firefly (got the idea from sufjan stevens), bunny, dove, mouse, hamster, hummingbird, penguin, monkey 😭, kitten (this one's kinda popular) - flowers: tulip, rose, sunflower, a flower that's special between your characters - fruits/vegetables: pumpkin, bean, mango, lychee, kiwi, peach, nectarine, apricot, berry(!!), blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, cherry, etc - sweets! a special weakness of mine is sweets from the person saying the endearment's culture. like if someone who was also indian called me their kaju katli i'd melt (but probably not laddu unless it's clear they're teasing and i get back at them 💀). maybe runs the risk of being cringey tho? honestly as long as it's from the sayer's culture and suits their personality it's fine - examples of sweets that don't belong to a certain culture: cookie, brownie - nature: snowflake, raindrop?? (i guess it works if your character has something to do with water), sprout, sapling

and here's some classic gn terms of endearment if your character's more into that: - darling (i see this as a perfect alternative to princess/prince) - love/my love - lovely/beautiful - baby/babe (can be used in both cute and teasing/suggestive moods) - angel (personal favorite of mine!) - dear (it's so "grown old together" vibes, i'm in love with this one for this purpose) - honey, honey pie, sugar, sweet(ie). honestly if they're used for s/os, it feels kinda old-fashioned. but for parent figures saying it to someone much younger that they care about, children or otherwise? (i'm imagining a southern (from america) beekeeper with no children or spouse of her own who sells her famous honey to buy food for the small army of orphaned children that shows up on her front porch every morning for breakfast. and these are the kinds of things she'd call them. perfection.)

[x-x-nyctophilia-writes-x-x]

This is a hastily made vent fic

Simon Riley x Reader

(Gender neutral reader, reader does not have gendered pronouns, but does mention having a period)

Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of hospitalization and surgery, mentions of strained familial relationships, mentions of periods

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke slightly startled by the sound of the front door to your apartment opening. Quickly checking your phone you noted the time; 4:37 pm. Simon was finally home from another deployment. You moved to meet him in the living room, but before you could even make it out of bed he was already standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at you with a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

You stared back for a couple moments before offering a weak smile and a quiet welcome home. He let out a sigh like he'd been holding his breath and said “There you are, love. I'd been trying to get ahold of you on my way over here, but you didn't answer. Had me worried.” 

You checked your phone again and this time noticed that he had called and texted you, several times in the last hour. You turned back to him, “I'm so sorry, I was… taking a nap.” 

Simon continued watching you from the doorway, staring like he was analyzing you. You had the blinds closed and curtains drawn shut, leaving your room dim despite the sun still shining bright outside. Simon turned on the ceiling light to get a better look at you, and you flinched. He sighed again as he took you in, this time less relieved. Your hair was a mess, you had dark circles around your eyes, your lips were chapped, and you'd been asleep in your day clothes. He moved toward you and sat at the edge of your bed.

“Lovie, what happened,” he asked, placing the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature, “are you sick?”

“No, no! I'm fine! I'm just… Tired.” you said, adding under your breath, “haven't been sleeping well.” You were avoiding looking him in the eye. Simon gently grabbed your hand with one of his, and turned your face toward his with the other. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

It was firm, but not a demand. Suddenly you felt tears prickling at the corners of you eyes. You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around you, instinctively, protectively, as you started to fall apart. 

“My dad… He's in the hospital! While you were gone he was diagnosed with cancer. He got rushed into surgery to remove the tumor. In a few weeks he starts chemotherapy. My mom and grandmother have been at each other's throats, arguing about what's best for him, who should take care of him during his recovery. Grandma's even been picking fights with the hospital staff! Even before all that, I got laid off! Something's gone wrong with my insurance, and I haven't had the time to sort it out, so I'm off my meds because now I can't afford them! My period started a week early last month, and I bled through my clothes, and this month it's a week late! I really haven't been sleeping well, my stomach is in knots, so I can hardly eat! And I missed you! I missed you so, so much!”

Simon just sat there with you, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while you let it all out. Once you had, he kissed your forehead and said a soft “I missed you too.”

Then he pulled away slightly to look you in the eye, concern evident on his face, but layered with what seemed like a little hurt. “Sweetheart,” he said more firmly again, “why didn't you tell me any of this was going on sooner? I know we didn't have a lot of chances to talk, but everytime I called you said everything was fine. Why'd you lie to me?”

You looked away, shame creeping its way into your chest while you found the words to answer him.

“I just… I didn't want you to worry. Your job is so dangerous, I didn't want you to be distracted by my problems while you were out there fighting.” 

“Your problems? Love, no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, your problems are my problems. I'm your partner, and I'm here for you, even when I'm not with you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a bit of a smirk before he said, “And I'm no amateur. I'm more than good enough to do my job and care about you at the same time.” 

You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up out of you at his cocky attitude, and he smiled seeing the shell you'd crawled into start to crack a little.

You sighed as you gazed up at him. “I'm sorry, for not being honest with you,” you said. He pulled you into his chest again and kissed your temple. 

“It's alright, I know. And I'm sorry you've had to deal with so much by yourself.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, finally able to enjoy each other's company again after being separated for so long, until Simon began to lift you off of his lap and make his way toward the door again. 

“Where're you going?” 

“Getting my phone, gonna order that dumpling soup you like. While we're waiting for it we're gonna take a bath, and you're gonna tell me everything else I missed out on while I was away. Good, bad. Everything. Get out that scented bubble mixture.”

And with that, he disappeared into the living room, leaving you with a smile on your face as you made your way to the bathroom to run the bath and find the bubble soap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been going through... a lot lately, so I wrote this to cope. Cheers.

[gonzo-rella]

Not-A-Woman | Arnold Rimmer

MASTERLIST | AO3

Note: In this fic, the reader is AFAB and nonbinary. This fic positions the notion of being perceived as a woman as being the worst thing in the world for the reader. But, hopefully it is clear that this is because the reader is trans and they have a lot of dysphoria around how they're perceived, and not because there's something wrong with being a woman. I felt that making this clarification in-story would only read as clunky, so I decided to include it here.

Relationship(s): Arnold Rimmer x AFAB!nonbinary!reader (implied romantic); Dave Lister x AFAB!nonbinary!reader (platonic; mentioned)

Summary: Who would have known that Arnold Judas Rimmer wasn't so bad at the whole 'counselling' thing after all?

Warnings: Gender dysphoria, references to periods (reader is implied to have periods), references to misogyny (Rimmer makes a very Rimmer comment that reflects his character and not the views of this author), canon-typical humour (or a Gen Z's attempt at that), jokes about suicide (again, nothing more extreme than you'd get in canon). (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 3k

(A/N: This is incredibly self-indulgent, written solely with my own personal enjoyment in mind. This is my first fic I started writing for Red Dwarf, about a week after I'd started watching the show. It's weird to think I've only had this show for a month and it's already so dear to me. I've finished writing a different Red Dwarf one-shot since then, which you can find here. Red Dwarf, and Rimmer specifically, has gotten me back into writing reader-insert fanfic and it's been a lot of fun to rediscover my love for it, and to have two fics that I'm so proud of. I have a couple of other Rimmer fics in the works, one of which is a sequel to my Terrorform fic, but feel free to send in requests. I want to write a Lister fic at some point but I'm stumped for ideas, so feel free to send in suggestions for him as well.)

It had been something innocuous that had set this whole thing off. Lister had saved you from the latest thing that meant you harm- it felt like a weekly occurrence at this point. Had he not intervened, you would have died, or at least gotten a nasty wound. Normally, you would have been suitably grateful that your friend hadn’t let you die, but something about this time bugged you. It really bugged you. It wriggled under your skin like a familiar parasite, feasting at your innards and your patience. Lister had saved you, like he had all those other times, and yet you could hardly look at him without wanting to tear off your own skin, or his skin for that matter. It was a strange kind of resentment. You were consumed by this restless annoyance, but you felt guilty enough about it to hole yourself up in your room to avoid saying something you would regret, as well as to be perceived as minimally as possible. You hid your body beneath a rotation of objects: a blanket you wrapped tightly around you (just not tight enough to fit the shape of your body), a cushion you hugged to your chest, and the most oversized top you owned.

No one thought much of it when you decided not to join them for a well-earned dinner and drinks. After all, you were tired- that’s what you told them, anyway. They didn’t have to know that you stayed up about as long as them, drinking alone in your room. But, they took notice when there was no sign of you the next day.

The first of them to check in with you was Kryten, who had gone through the trouble of making you lunch. He asked you if you were okay, an understandable question, and you assured him you were fine. He picked up that something wasn’t right, so he asked if you were sick. You decided to lie and told him that you were on your period. You hoped it would be enough of an excuse to explain away your absence without causing any alarm, and that your crewmates, all men or man-adjacent (besides Holly), would be too overwhelmed by the concept of a period to even think of bothering you.

Unfortunately, Lister wasn’t bothered by your fictitious period like you had hoped. Later that day, he turned up at your door. He invited you to do something- you weren’t paying attention so you had no idea what exactly it was, but you guessed it probably involved alcohol, curry and/or poker, seeing as that’s all you guys seemed to do. You declined, a little bluntly, using the excuse that you weren’t feeling up to it, whatever it was. ‘You know how periods can be,’ you had said. He wasn’t convinced that everything was fine- as fine as it could be while you were on your period- but it had only been one day. He could give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you really were this wiped out. So, he left you to it. You’d be back to normal soon enough, you assured him. Anything to get him to go away. And, really, you had thought you’d be fine within the next couple of days.

But, you didn’t leave your room the next day, either. Kryten delivered you some food. And, Lister tried to coax you out again with some activity or another. You declined. So, he asked you if you were alright. You told him you were fine. But, he really didn’t believe it this time. He asked again. No luck. So, he told you to come talk to him when you were ready. That made you feel worse.

Another day went by and you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. If he wasn’t worried before, he certainly was now.

Nothing could have prepared you for Rimmer throwing his hat in the ring. Your best guess was that he had put himself forward. You could imagine Lister scoffing at the idea and Rimmer going ahead with it anyway. Thinking about Lister further soured your already displeased expression, which also came with an inevitable wave of guilt. Your lack of enthusiasm did nothing to deter Rimmer, who invited himself in without hesitation. You watched him from your bed.

“I thought it might be worth checking in. You haven’t left this room in days and it’s safe to say we’re all growing a bit concerned.”

You might have been touched and more receptive to his presence if he wasn’t speaking with the tone of a teacher.

“All of you? Even Cat?”

“Well, no. Perhaps not Cat. In fact, the next time you see him, you might very well have to re-introduce yourself.”

You rolled your eyes as he paced around the room, making a failed attempt at pretending as though he wasn’t closely examining it for any sign of whatever he was looking for.

“I think you’d better leave, Arnie. I know about the Lemming Sunday incident and with how I’m feeling right now I’m worried there’ll be a repeat of it if you keep talking to me.”

He was clearly caught off-guard by the comment. He thought for a moment, then let out a deep exhale.

“I suppose I can call a meeting and arrange a rota for suicide watch.”

Given he was discussing the topic of suicide watch, his tone was perhaps inappropriately casual.

You shot him a glare, already sick of him. Normally, you were the first to defend him, but this conversation was giving you a glimpse into how Lister, Cat and Kryten must have seen him.

“I was joking. Mostly. But, I wasn’t joking about wanting you to go away.”

“You know, whatever’s bothering you-”

“Nothing’s bothering me. I told Kryten, I’m on my period. So, I don’t want to be disturbed-”

He raised his finger to interject.

“Ah, about that.”

You squoze your eyes shut and rolled your head back. You were sure whatever he was about to say was going to annoy you. The last thing you needed was Rimmer’s input on the subject of menstruation.

“Holly says you’re not due a visit from Auntie Flo for another two weeks and three days. So, I’m afraid that’s the end of that excuse.”

You straightened up, eyes wide as you stared at him in bewilderment. 

“Holly tracks my cycle?”

“I’m sure she’ll start giving you a few day’s warning if you ask her to.”

“That’s not-”

“Now, I suggest you start talking.”

“For God’s sake, Rimmer, I’m depressed, not a prisoner of war.”

“Aha! So, you admit it. You’re depressed.”

He seemed far too gleeful about that revelation. You looked at him blankly.

“I thought you’d figured that out already.”

“It’s one thing to reach a conclusion based on pure intuition, but it’s another kettle of fish wrenching out a confession- so masterfully, might I say.”

“Okay, well, you’ve got your ‘confession’. Can you smeg off now?”

“I’m afraid not. This is what we call a ‘safeguarding issue’.”

“If you weren’t a hologram, I’d give you a ‘safeguarding issue’.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get hostile,” Rimmer tried. He thought for a moment; you assumed he was trying to recall some advice he had read in a book about negotiation or interrogation. “Alright, would you rather speak to Lister about whatever this is?”

The glare you directed at him sent a chill down his spine, or the hologram equivalent of that sensation.

“No.”

Realisation settled on his features, and what followed was a wave of smugness. Amidst his pride, he smirked and folded his arms. He paced victoriously.

“Ah. So, you’ve fallen out with old Listy, eh? What is it, then? A playground squabble? A lover’s tiff?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He wavered.

“Hang on a minute. Are the pair of you-”

“We’re just mates, Rimmer. I don’t fancy Lister and Lister doesn’t fancy me. Believe it or not, I can be friends with a bloke. Men and women can be friends. And, I’m not even a woman, so that doesn’t even apply here anyway.”

Rimmer, thankfully, was clueless as to what to say. Before he could attempt to string together a sentence that would most likely compel you lob a chair through him, you continued, softening your tone a tad.

“Look, Arnie, I’ll be fine in a few days. Give me some time and it’ll be like this never happened.”

“And, until then?”

“I don’t know. I’ll manage. I always do.”

Rimmer’s gaze landed on your wastebasket, which could best be described as a growing mountain of empty cans. His eyes widened in alarm. He hadn’t been observant enough to notice them before.

“Christ, are those from the past three days?”

You shrugged.

“That’s how I’ll manage.”

He sighed.

“Trust me, I can understand loathing Lister with the burning passion of a billion suns-”

“I don’t-”

“But, I’ve never withdrawn like a maladjusted hermit and stumbled down the slippery slope of alcoholism because of it.”

He seemed genuinely concerned, so much so that you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him. You were hyper-aware of the fact that he was looking at you- watching you with a softness you scarcely saw from him. It was kind of nice, but also mortifying. As tender as it was, you weren’t exactly in a mindset where you wanted to be perceived. You shifted uncomfortably and shook your head.

“You wouldn’t get it, Arn.”

“Go on. Try me.”

Maybe Rimmer would understand. He knew a thing or two about self-hatred and insecurity, after all. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“Lister always saves me from being killed or hurt or anything.”

Rimmer’s brows knitted in confusion.

“The bastard?”

You paused and shut your eyes for a moment.

“I know we’re mates and that’s why he bothers to not let me die, and I appreciate it. I really do. But, I dunno. Sometimes it feels like him and all the rest of you lot see me as a girl because I’m not a full-on bloke. And, I guess, whenever he saves me from things it’s like I’m just some damsel in distress to you guys- like no matter what, I’ll always be at least woman-adjacent.”

Rimmer exhaled from his nose.

“Trust me, if Lister saw you as a woman, he’d be on you like the foul odour on his… everything,” Rimmer insisted. “What does it matter what he thinks of you, anyway?”

“He’s my mate. And, the thought of him- or anyone- seeing me as a woman makes me feel a bit sick because that’s really not who I am.” You paused. “Do you see me as a woman, Arnie?”

“I thought this was about Lister.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“No. Were it a yes, I would have said, well, yes.”

“But, you didn’t say no. Not right away. You dodged the question. So now it feels like you do see me as a woman.”

There was an undertone of panic in your voice.

“I don’t see you as a woman.”

“Then, why didn’t you just say that straight away?”

“Because, no one ever cares to hear my opinion on anything. I was taken by surprise.”

You glanced at him, half-pitying, half-apologetic.

“Oh.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

“Well, why does it matter if Lister sees you as a woman or if I see you as a woman?”

“When you phrase it like that, it seems like you do see me as a woman.”

He tipped his head back in frustration.

“Neither of us see you as a woman! But, I have to tell you, this hysteria really isn’t helping your case.”

Your growing fondness for Rimmer came crashing down. Of course it was too good to be true. And, oh, he had been doing so well.

“Misogyny. Nice. Can you actually smeg off now, you total-”

“It’ll take more than accusations about my character and childish insults to get rid of me.”

You could have throttled him. Well, technically speaking, you couldn’t.

“Are you really that stubborn that you won’t leave me alone?”

“This isn’t about me. You’re having some sort of crisis and I don’t think hiding in your room like a recluse and drinking enough to kill a horse is doing you any good.”

He had you there.

“Right, well, what do you want me to do, Arnie? Because, that’s all I feel like doing right now. I don’t want to be looked at. Not when people look at me and see me as something I’m not. And, not when he’s there to remind me of what a failure I am as… not-a-woman.”

Rimmer cleared his throat.

“Well, then, perhaps I’d better leave. I wouldn’t want my masculinity to make you feel inadequate.”

Well, you certainly hadn’t expected that. Your eyes widened with shock. You stifled a laugh. The corners of your lips stretched into a smile, one you hid behind your fist. You chewed on your finger and turned your head away from him. He sent you a look of confusion and mild indignation.

“What’s so amusing?”

You shook your head. 

“Nothing. Nothing.”

Rimmer placed his hands on his hips. Your body shook with laughter that you tried to keep as quiet as possible. You felt so mean but you couldn’t help it.

“You don’t think I’m masculine?”

You managed to compose yourself a bit to answer him, taking in several deep breaths.

“It’s not that! I’m so sorry, Arnie. You’re a perfectly acceptable man.”

“Then, why are you laughing?”

“It took me by surprise.”

Rimmer shook his head.

“I see how it is. Tell me, then, what is it that makes David Lister a veritable paragon of machismo?”

You chewed your nail, thinking for a moment. You paused. You sighed.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, Arn. Will you please let me explain?”

After a moment of hesitation, he let out a huff.

“Very well. Go on.”

“Dave’s a proper laddy lad, you know? He’s confident in his own bloke-ish-ness. He’s, like, the quintessential bloke. He drinks beer, he tends to be handy to have around, he’ll shamelessly wear curry-stained clothes that haven’t been washed in a year,” you explained. “I mean, you’re far from laddy- and, no offence, you can be a bit pathetic sometimes- but you’re still a man. Cat’s a bit metrosexual but he’s taken seriously as a man. And, Kryten: he’s not even technically a man but that’s how we treat him and it’s probably right for him. You’re all men and you all do it so differently but it doesn’t change how people see that part of you.”

You folded your arms tightly over your chest.

“But, then there’s me. I’m not a woman. I’m not a man. But, it feels like because I’m not a man and all of you are, other than Holly, I’m a woman by default because I’m ‘closer to being a woman’ than the rest of you or something because that’s how I was born. So, I get it in my head that everyone sees me as a woman, because I’m driving myself mad with the ‘woman things’ I have. And, it really gets to me how you can all just be men so differently and effortlessly and I can’t have that for myself.”

You rolled your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“It’s no one’s fault how I was born or how I am- not even mine. But, I know it’s all down to me, to deal with how I’m feeling. So sorry for being a bitter, miserable prick. That’s why I was trying to avoid all of you until it stopped.”

You had been going on for so long about your abject misery that you had forgotten you were talking to Arnold Judas Rimmer, who Lister had once described as having all the gentleness of a prostate exam from Freddy Krueger. But, when you finally dared to look at him again, you were met with that same soft expression from earlier. Your shoulders sank, a sense of relief washing over you.

“You know, if you feel you must try to emulate Lister, his drinking habits certainly aren’t what I would attempt to mimic,” he finally said. “It makes him an idiot, not any more of a man.”

You laughed weakly. “I suppose you’re right.”

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a perfectly acceptable… not-a-woman.”

“Thanks, Arn.”

He carried on looking at you, thoughtful. You stole another glance at him. When your eyes met, your heart skipped a beat and warmth flooded your stomach.

“You’re not actually going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“Probably not.”

He appeared dissatisfied by your answer.

“No. I’m not actually going to do anything stupid, Arn.”

“Good.”

You smirked.

“‘Good’ because me killing myself would somehow inconvenience you or ‘good’ because you care about me?”

He hesitated.

“A bit of both.”

You grinned.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I’ll take that.”

“So, are you feeling better, then?”

“A bit. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. And, I’d say you’ve earned the right to tell them they were wrong about you being able to help me.”

He knitted his brows.

“How did you know about that?”

“Intuition.”

– – –

“Hang on a minute, are you seriously saying that Rimmer made you feel better?”

Lister leaned back in his chair, eyeing you incredulously and with clear unease. 

You nodded. 

“Yeah. He did.”

After Rimmer had helped you feel better, you didn’t mind that he was eager to parade you in front of the crew to tell them that he’d done a good job despite their misgivings.

“Arnold Rimmer?”

“Yep.”

“Arnold Judas Rimmer?”

“Yes.” 

Lister got up and pointed directly at an indignant Rimmer.

“That git?”

“He might be a git-”

Rimmer folded his arms.

“Excuse me!”

“But I appreciated his help anyway.”

Lister huffed and sat back down.

“Well, I suppose all that matters is that you’re feeling better.”

Still, he seemed unsettled, while Rimmer was able to return to being smug. You thought it was kind of sweet, but it was obvious that Lister didn’t share that sentiment, judging by the way he was massaging his temple.

“And, to think,” Rimmer said with a self-satisfied smile. “You were so vehemently against me offering my counselling services.”

Cat casually strolled into the room, carefree as usual. When he passed you, he did a double-take, then he looked between Rimmer and Lister with confusion.

“Who’s that?”

[remiratboi]

Desperate doms who fulfill every fantasy you have because they just want to be sooo good for you 🥵

[up-in-flames-writing]

In lieu of Stuff Your Kindle day, can we talk about the issue of how the m/m genre of books, romance or not, is almost entirely dominated by women? Can we talk about how the most recognisable gay couples in media are written by women? Can we talk about how queer men can't even write about ourselves, how we are only allowed to exist when it's from the point of view of a straight woman sexualising us?

Can we talk about that? Or am I going to get called misogynistic for pointing out the disparity between who gets the writing deals, & who gets their books turned into movies, & whose shit gets popular versus whose doesn't? Can we talk about how m/m fiction is only allowed when it appeals to a cishet gaze, or is that too much for tumblr to take?

Can we also talk about how trans queer men are even more hated by publishing? Can we talk about how we get shit from both sides? Can we talk about how books about the experiences of being a queer man, written by queer men, never get the same recognition as books written by women on this subject (barring academia which has its own problems)?

Can we talk about that? Can we?

[dumbdomb]

"i know you wanted me to breed you now, but if you're really good i'll make sure to cum buckets inside you next time! ok, sweetie?"

[allowing them to watch me put a condom on so they know, with complete certainty, they're being denied. positioning their body in a display pose to receive my small, lubed, pretty cock.]

"i want to hear your cute moans for me. i want you to say 'thank you' whenever i slap your face, tits, dick/pussy... i want you to be a good little fuck toy, alright?"

[breathing steadily as i begin thrusting at an even pace, holding and grabbing parts of their body... caressing them, enjoying their flesh on display beneath me.]

"you really love being used like a doll, don't you?"

[slapping their face as soon as they begin to speak, no matter what answer they had to offer. quietly grunting as i grip their limbs and fuck harder, faster...]

"you don't get to cum until i say. you're nothing more than a reusable hole to get me off. ... you really like being treated this way...? like you're nothing? ... answer me."

[grabs at different places on their body as a reward, changing up the pace of my thrusts. balancing myself on their hips as i fuck deeper, pounding my body against theirs, just stimming. breathing heavier to the sound of their moans, my cheeks flushing in desire for them and every part all over their body.]

"you want to cum...? ask nicely. keep asking..."

[meeting each request with a slap or grunt from a really hard fuck... until i can hear and see their genuine desperation to climax.]

"beg for me to cum in you, beg for it."

[railing them as they beg and get closer to the edge. no more pain, just breathing hard and fucking my good toy.]

"fuck...!! cum now, slut."

[pressing myself deep inside and cumming through the condom i'd secretly cut the tip off of. filling their surprised hole with a big load of my cum, breeding them like they've wanted.]

"good, My good fucking toy. you like my warm cum inside you? you love being bred by my small, sweet cock inside... so deep inside you?"

[ignores their response to empty more cum into the hole i just fucked.]

"stay there, i wanna watch it drip out... fuck. look at you still cumming on nothing... you're so hot."

[using the same little strap to pump inside me with a wand on my erect cock. ordering them to touch themself while i enjoy cumming on my own tiny cock.]

[yunnimilk]

I need more requests pls guys 😭🙏

[enbyscript]

18+ minors DNI sfw drabble pope cody x nonbinary/trans!reader

cant stop thinking abt pope hanging out at reader’s apartment more and more often and eventually their roommates making appearances very casually. at first he gets super tense and either has a hand on reader while theyre on the couch or just scoots closer to them in general.

but reader only lives with lgbtqia+ people so they see this and are like oomfie has a feral cat ok we’ll go at your pace sir. theyre super respectful of his space and walk/talk around him to reader as casually as they can. if theyre ordering food for the roommates they check in w reader abt what pope likes to eat and order for him too.

pope getting more comfortable around them and reader starts to notice and it makes them so happy they could cry. one night one of your roommates is going out on a date and she’s worried she looks to masculine in the outfit she chose and is just super nervous and pope gives her a once over from the hall coming back from the bathroom and hits her with a “you look good, quit bein’ a baby” and the silence is deafening.

your roommate realizes how big this is and is overwhelmed w emotion at this comfort hes providing strangely? and kisses him on the cheek with a big smack of her lipstick and with all the confidence in the world heads out the door telling you both to not wait up.

and pope comes back to the couch and wipes the lipstick off with his hand and you kiss his other cheek and all over his face till hes blushing and telling you to knock it off, but hes not serious he doesnt want you to stop he loves the praise and the positive reinforcement of his good behavior

GOD I LOVE POPE AND THE GAGGLE OF QUEERS THAT ADOPT HIM

[inezrable]

I Don't Want To Go (771 words) by Ineffable_Ezra Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley & Original Child(ren) of Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) & Reader, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Original Child(ren) of Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Reader Additional Tags: trans reader - Freeform, can be either transfem transmasc or enby, nonbinary reader, Autistic Burnout, Autistic Reader, Doctor Who References, References to Hamilton - Miranda, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Good Parents Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens)

[angelicspaceprince]

I'm actually losing my mind

[kodamaghost00]

Searching for crumbs of content so bad, I started reading Character x F!Reader as a Enby/Transmale…

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Roland and Jocelyn Schitt's Trans/Nonbinary Kid

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Pride Month 2024 #1

Relationship(s): Roland Schitt x trans!gn!reader (familial), Jocelyn Schitt x trans!gn!reader (familial)

Summary: Cameron has had a crush on you

Warnings: Trans-typical stuff. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I did a version of this with Modern Family, where the reader is the nonbinary kid of Jay. When I watched Schitt's Creek, I found myself really gravitating towards the idea of writing something where the reader is Jocelyn and Roland's kid, and since I'm trans I thought a lot about how they'd be with a trans/nonbinary kid. So, I finally started working on this idea for Pride Month!)

Roland and Jocelyn’s support of you knows no bounds.

When you come out as trans, it’s no different.

They are on board with it immediately.

If you’re particularly nervous about coming out, they will both assure you that they love you so much and that all they want is for you to be yourself and happy.

Jocelyn will bake you one of those pride flag cakes to show her support.

And, if you’re ready to be out to the rest of the town, Roland will go on and on to anyone who will listen about how proud he is of his kid/son/daughter (whichever you prefer!)

Ronnie, happy for you as she may be, tires of hearing about it pretty quickly.

Early on, they’re very much the embodiment of ‘he a little confused, but he got the spirit’.

Roland has 100% said “his/her pronouns are they/them!” (or the applicable equivalent that best suits you).

Jocelyn will keep telling you that she thinks that Elliot Page is handsome.

And, one time, she asks you if you want to watch the Danish Girl with her (which you probably won’t, but if you are that way inclined go ahead and it will make her week).

They’re always well-meaning, no matter what they do or say.

If you come out around the time that the Roses move to the town, I can see Roland and Jocelyn both discreetly asking David for advice about you as the young queer person that they know (regardless of whether or not you’re an adult). 

David will either give them a pretty broad answer that is applicable to most trans people, or tell them to speak to you themselves (in the nicest possible way, for David at least).

Roland will try to bond with Johnny over the both of them being the fathers of queer kids.

When Pride Month rolls around, your parents will write you out a card and put some money in it like it’s your birthday.

I can see them waking you up on 1st June with party horns and party poppers, again like it’s your birthday (unless 1st June is your birthday, in which case they’ll eagerly celebrate both).

If you decide to transition medically, Roland will offer to drive you to every appointment you have to attend.

If you end up getting any surgeries, both of your parents will insist on contributing whatever money they can, and they will want to help take care of you when you’re recovering.

If you’re nonbinary, Roland always (very proudly) introduces you to people as his ‘nonbinary kid’.

Roland has a trans and/or nonbinary pride flag bumper sticker on his truck.

And, Jocelyn has a pride flag displayed somewhere in her classroom.

Basically, they’re so supportive that it borders on excessive.

But, they love you, trans or not.

After all, you're their kid.