#Letter from Fran

[belovedindierock]

Letter from Franny

Thursday, September 7th, 2023

[dottcre]

i won the fight don't worry also did you know that

in terms of male human and fatui harbinger breeding dottore is the most compatible breeding candidate for humans? not only is he an omega male, which is the lowest hierarchy in the omegaverse, dottore is an average of 6'1 tall and 150 pounds, that means he is fit enough to handle human dicks, and with his impressive child-bearing hips and durable cyborg body, you can be rough with him. and with his mostly mechanical based biology, there's no doubt that in my mind, an incredibly aroused dottore would be incredibly tight no matter how many times you have sex with him, so tight that you could easily have many rounds with him and not get bored. with his perfected body he can also learn various sex positions due to his flexible body; missionary with a split, the fold, the bridge, the splitter and more. along with straps hugging his body tightly his kinky choker and body harness, it'd be incredibly easy for him to get you in the mood. with him being the last and most complete segment, he can easily recover from fatigue with enough reboots, no fatui harbinger comes close to this level of compatibility, also, fun fact, unlike most omega males who have 3 holes down there, and a mouth, you can eye fuck dottore since his eye sockets are an empty void, making this experience much more enjoyable. dottore is literally built for human dick. he is even an immortal and 400 years old, meaning he could be very experienced and take cock all day, all shapes and sizes and still come for more.

I TRIED SO HARD TO NOT LAUGH OUT LOUD AT THIS. WHY IS THIS AN EDUCATIONAL ESSAY… 😭😭😭😭

[starkcregan]

one of my closest friends released a beautiful new single that you all should listen to!!! and if any of you are in the San Francisco area, she's having a concert on May 25!

[dollypopup]

even more things I love about Colin Bridgerton

-his taste in waistcoats is genuinely A++

-he cares so much about the women around him. brought his mum an expensive, sentimental gift. supported Eloise's pursuits to learn about feminism. gave Fran sheet music to show he cares and listens to her passions, compliments Penelope and refuses to let her say bad things about herself

-even when he's mad he's never disparaging. the absolute worst thing he's ever called a woman in the entirety of the show was 'cruel'. he called his older brother an ass in defense of a woman, and that might be the meanest thing he's said to anyone in the show

-his swoopy curls

-how much he values and respects consent and honesty. He just wants to be his whole self with Penelope and is so incredibly vulnerable with her

-THAT HE APOLOGIZES. I was watching a comedy special and they dropped the line 'Do you know how rare it is for a powerful man to apologize when someone's not threatening to take something away from him if he doesn't?' My god, how refreshing is it that we have a man who apologizes wholeheartedly and earnestly so many times? to his mother, to his friends, to his sisters, to his ex, to his wife, and he does it with his WHOLE CHEST. I need Colin Bridgerton to run tedtalks on how to properly apologize, it is sexy as FUCK

-he feels things so deeply because he's so emotionally sensitive, and didn't want to be intimate with Penelope in anger because for him, intimacy with her is special and a positive thing and he didn't want to colour that with negative emotion

-he cries when he's upset, he's a sad crier, and he's an *angry* crier. Like how is anyone ever meant to win a fight against him? The man just has to blink his wet soppy seal eyes at me and I'm a goner

-he can't stay mad for long. he's too empathetic

-he can be awkward and silly

-his silly puns (we shall gallop along, i oiled my way right in)

-he tries to see things from other people's perspectives. He came to Cressida trying to understand and relate to her, he reads Penelope's letters and tries to understand her choices and merge her and LW in his mind

-HE ASKED FOR ELOISE'S BLESSING!!!!

-for the most part, Colin doesn't ask for emotional labour from the people around him. he tries to cope with his concerns on his own. he is not afraid to do that work on himself first

-he pushes back against the male machismo of his peers. he's not just respectful to the women in his immediate circle, but also the women who are out of it. he's nice to the debutants but maintains his distance so as not to lead them on, he defends Marina even though she broke his heart, he's just a good dude

-he holds everything. . .so gently? cups, quills, his wife

-he's a total sweetheart, how can you not love him???

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 9 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, 

@panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, 

@powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya, @lol6sposts, @cierrajhill, @heheyhey, @drinkfantasy, @esposadomd

Summary: An idle search for a certain book sparks up your interest about a particular set of art. The queen's ball is at your disposal as you finally might receive a clear answer. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 10 ]

“Are you going to help me or not?” – Francesca asked, looking up from the book in her hand. You had been idling away at your home library. You were normally going to assist your sister in finding a book on French artist. Yet Francesca seemed to be the only one actually searching. While you idled away on the other hand. Deep in thoughts as you stared at the book back’s with a slightly tilted head. – “I am helping.” – you muttered out letting your finger glide across the back’s.

Francesca hummed unintrigued seeing through your false lies. She shut her book with a loud thud, startling you a bit. – “Just help me Y/n.” – she begged. – “The sooner we find it, the sooner we are out of here.” – she came closer to you. You jumped when she had slapped her book against your bottom. – “Fran!” – you called out in shock.

Your sister laughing loud. Clearly amused. – “Please Y/n a bit of help.” – she asked placing the book down on a stack of other books. You nodded walking boredly to a stack of books on the desk. You picked up the first one. A blue cover with golden pressed letters on.

“That’s clearly no French.” – Francesca commented from afar, having looked up from her book to you. You set it aside, looking at the next one. A dark green book with heavy thick black letters. Francesca was looking at numerous covers, holding two in each hand. – “Have you heard anything from him?” – she asked reading the back of a book in her hand. – “From who?” – you replied reading the back of your book as well. Francesca sighed loud. - “The Viscount.” – she answered casually with a quick smile. The mention of him made you act clumsy.

You wanted to set a book back as you knocked the stack of books over. One or two dropped on the ground. – “Sorry.” – you called out seeing your sister’s scolding expression. You quickly duck down to pick them up. One of them was tipped over. Standing on the edges, pages facing the ground. You picked up the yellow book as your eye fell on the title. The secret language of fanning. Your mind immediately got pulled back to the moment with Tewkesbury.

Seeing so vividly in front of you what Tewkesbury did. The same sequence, repeated. At the time you thought it was idle. Now you weren’t so sure anymore. Still crouched down, you tilted the book to read the pages. You ruffled through them. Seeing sketches of ladies performing a gesture step by step with writing by the side. Fascinated you stopped at a page. The secret language it was describing ‘how to let your company know you are uninterested’.

It made you snicker quietly. Turning a few pages you wanted to find the sequence Tewkesbury did. Perhaps his had a meaning too? Your pursuit of finding the true meaning of it took a heavy turn. Almost obsessive as you craved the answer. Was he perhaps also showing to you he wanted to leave your company? Was it something else? Did he try to say you were ugly? Couldn’t dance? Only saw you as a friend? You were almost going insane with the unknowing.

Eyes widened when your finger pressed hard on a page to stop it. Recognizing one motion of Tewkesbury’s. – “Y/n!” – Francesca called out, startling you. The book fell out of your hand as you jumped up, bumping the back of your head against the desk above you. – “Au!” – you shouted keeping a hand on your head as you slowly rose, minding not to hit the desk again while rising. – “Found it.” – Francesca exclaimed happily, showing you the book.

“Oh sorry.” – she apologized seeing you rub your head. Your head turned slightly, looking down at the book you were very eager to finish. – “Come we are finished.” -  Francesca went over to you, grabbed you by your wrist and started pulling you out of the library. ‘I’ll come back for you’. You thought as you got pulled through the door. On your way out, you encountered Benedict in the hallway.

“Found it!” – Francesca said happily, holding the book up. Benedict took the book in his hands. – “Excellent sister.” – he replied giving her the book back. – “Now I can astonish my governess.” – she said feeling over the moon. You got dragged along again, trying to keep up with her quick feet, as you hoped much not to trip over your own. Benedict laughed at his adoring sisters.

Finally you had found a way to escape Francesca’s clutches. You loved her but she could be a too much towards you. She had always felt a strong push towards you. She confided with you on about almost anything. You were her most truest friend and beloved sister. You took the turn, leading you back to the home library. That itch of reading more of that book unstilled. Quickening your pace, you were almost panting. Panting with desperation to reach it.

So desperate you walked straight past your brother Colin without a proper greeting. He smiled wanting to greet you, his smile faltering when you walked straight passed him. Clearly too occupied in your own thoughts. Hands almost shaking you threw the door open. Finally your questions would be answers.

Finally the storm in your head would still. Yet you were greeted with a harsh stomp. Bluntly you stared at a cleared up room. All the books that once was stacked around on the desk. On the floor. On the small table. All gone. All neatly set back on the shelves where they belonged. You screamed loud out of agony. As if something was keeping you from knowing the answers.

Stumped and defeated you outed your emotions. Shouting, stomping your feet and swaying your arms to curse at the maids who cleaned up the library. Crying and sobbing, dropping down in utter despair. It would take forever to find it back. Sobbing loud, you remained in place. Crouched down as you held your knees. Your limbs felt numb and stiff yet you didn’t move. Grieving too much for a book. The library had gone dark.

Till the creak of the door and a light flickered into the room. A heavy set of feet entered the room as the light fell upon you. – “Y/n.” – Anthony said soft placing the candle on the small table near you. – “What are you doing here sister. It is bed-time.” – he told you kneeling down to your height. Lips pouted, you moved your position, throwing your arms around him and bury your face against his chest.

Anthony immediately responded by holding your arm and back. Kissing the top of your head. He didn’t need to know what bothered you. He only needed to know that you required his attention and love. – “Let’s get you to bed.” – he whispered, repositioning his hands. He picked you up, carrying you in his arms. You kept your arms around his neck, resting your head against his chest. He blew the candle out, leaving the library in the darkness.

He carried you up the stairs up till your room, where he carefully laid you on your bed. – “How did you find me?” – you asked as he was adjusting your covers to warm you. – “Colin told me, he saw you head for the library.” – he responded tugging you in. – “Good night sister.” – he spoke, giving you a night kiss on your forehead. – “Night brother.” – you responded. He left your room with a warm smile on his lips.

━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━

“What are you doing here?” – you called out in shock. – “Is that how you greet your sister?”  - Daphne replied with her hands on her hip. – “Apologies.” – you rushed out, curtsying before her. Daphne’s stern glare faltered, revealing her gracious self once more. She entered your room more. – “Mama has asked me to assist you.” – she spoke approaching you. She touched your chin, admiring you. – “It is just the queen’s ball.” – you told her, gulping soft at the hard glare from your sister.

Clearly you had said something wrong. – “It is not just the queen’s ball Y/n. It is the queen’s ball!” – she exclaimed letting your hair glide through her fingers. – “And you need to look your upmost best.” – she booped your nose making you flutter your lashes. – “If not for the queen, for a certain Viscount most certainly.” – she added nudging you playfully in the side. You could only stare at her. Your stare made her laugh. – “He’s but a friend.” – you told her. – “Uh-hu.” – Daphne said unamused and seeing right through you.

She turned you around, pushing you to your vanity. – “Now let’s make you diamond worthy.” – she whispered to you with a gleam in her eyes. You swallowed nervously, looking back at your own reflection in the mirror. Daphne cleared her throat loud when she stood at the top of the stairs. All your siblings waiting down below. – “Finally.” – Gregory said receiving a flick against his ear from Benedict. – “Au! What was that for.” – he called out.

Benedict was about to comment on it when Daphne cleared her throat, silencing him. Eloise rolled her eyes. – “You are always dramatizing everything Daph.” – she outed with crossed arms. Daphne ignored her comment. – “I present to you, our sisters.” – she spoke with a gesture. First Francesca appeared as you followed right behind her. Mama teared up at the sight of her glorious daughters. Each a pearl in their own way.

“Try keeping any men away from them now.” – Benedict joked to Anthony with a snicker. Anthony slapped his hand at him as Benedict avoided being hit just in time. Francesca and you went down the stairs to join the others. Daphne coming after you. – “I shan’t be present, but enjoy every moment. I remember I did.” – she told you and Francesca.

“I remember you tried to win over the prince.” – Colin commented with a smirk. – “At least I could attract royalty.” – she mocked back with a sarcastic undertone. Benedict and Anthony laughed at Colin’s dumbfound stare, unable to come with any comeback. You were all heading for the carriages as Daphne pulled you back to her, separating you from the others. – “Y/n.” – she started. – “Do not be content with watching from the side. Don’t lose it all when you let the precious time slip away.” – she went on as it confused you.

Trying to find the meaning of her words. – “Don’t keep fighting it and let yourself fall.” – she finished with a soft smile. She gave you a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You got on the carriage with your brothers and Francesca. The words of your sister spinning in your mind. The carriage got in motion as it hobbled over cobblestone. Riding towards the palace for the queen’s ball. The highlight of the season as it was nearing.

Words were almost impossible to distinguish. The room filled and warm. Up on the balcony was someone observing the space below. A man overlooking it all. Tewkesbury stood by the railing. One hand on the railing as he attentively searched the belows. Many faces he saw, yet not the one he desired to see. In a corner of the room below, he saw his grandmother chatter with some elderly ladies. A bit more to the centre, he saw Enola make her way swiftly through the people.

Still there was no sign of you. He was almost becoming desperate. Hopeless that you wouldn’t be present. Hopeless that you perhaps already settled down for another. Groaning soft, he turned his head away in disgust. Not wanting to think about it. He sighed wanting you to show yourself. Then a group of people caught his attention. His immediate gaze fell upon your brother Anthony, coming in from the right. His second response was to look for you amongst them. There he found you, holding your brother Benedict’s arm. A relieved smile showed on his face. A weight falling off his shoulder.

Letting go of the railing, he made his way down the stairs to reach the belows. He needed to reach you. He needed to see your beauty from up close. Tewkesbury pushed a way through the crowd. – “Miss Y/n!” – he called out to get your attention. You turned your head, having heard your name, yet no familiar face was in sight yet. Till a lord passed and revealed you an approaching Tewkesbury. – “Miss Y/n!” – he repeated coming to a stop before you.

He grabbed your hand, lifting it up as he bowed his head near your hand. A gesture that made your sister almost lose her mind from excitement. – “May I have this dance?” – he asked only looking at you. You looked back to your brothers, looking for confirmation. Anthony shook his head as Benedict slapped him against his chest, nodding.

“We just got here.” – you heard Anthony speak to Benedict a bit annoyed when Tewkesbury took you with him. He positioned you in front of him. The music started as you greeted each other. Tewkesbury kept his hand above yours, guiding your arm to lift and lower gracefully. Turning his head, he repeated the same with your other hand. He then took your hand allowing you to spin underneath his arm.

With a firm pull, were you pressed closer to him. His hand on your lower back. It made you gulp soft. Tewkesbury smiling down at you. With one hand on his back, the other on your lower back, he swayed with you from side to side. Your dress swishing around. – “You look beautiful.” – he told you as you turned with him. He lifted your arm up again in motions, going higher and higher each time. Till you spun under his arm.

He let his hand slide down your wrist to your elbow as you lowered your arm to hold it up against his chest. Tewkesbury pressed his hand against yours, near his cheek, giving your palm a gentle push so you could spin. You spun back to him as he kept his hand on your lower back again. Swaying to the side. Taking your hand, he led it up and down as you approached and backed away.

A smile growing on your lips. You gasped soft when he grabbed you firm to waltz. He took his space waltzing with you. He let go of you with one hand. Holding your hand in his. You spun out, still holding his hand. Returning to him, he changed your hand to his other, where you moved across and spun out as well.

Giggling a bit, you felt like a princess. Tewkesbury moved a hand to your lower back, pulling you closer to his side. You let your hand join his on your hip. His other hand holding yours, stretched out. Pressed against his side, you looked up to him as you waltzed around. Tewkesbury grabbed almost desperately for your waist as the music picked up. Sweeping you up in the moment.

You set yourself off as Tewkesbury lifted you up. Turning a bit before he set you back down. Your eyes meeting as your faces were dangerously close. Gently panting in each other’s presence. Your noses almost touched when you circled around with him. Breaking the tense contact, he gave you a push to make you spin round. Till you went back to him.

The music fading out as the end of the dance was nearing. Tewkesbury and you circled around each other, staring at each other’s eyes. Slowly you stopped as the music stopped, letting out their last note. Tewkesbury and you greeted each other once more to thank one another for the dance. Out of breath, you felt hot. Overheated from the dance.

Tewkesbury took your hand, leading you away from the dance. He simply followed you as it seemed you were taking the lead. Guiding him outside as you needed some fresh air. If you didn’t have any fresh air, you thought you might pass out. The breeze was chillingly welcoming. The queen’s garden a dream come true as you overlooked it. – “I… I hope I haven’t given you any trouble from showing up unannounced last time.” – Tewkesbury spoke joining your side on the balcony.

Looking back at him, you shook your head. – “I hope my family hasn’t given you a fright. The duke can be intimidating.” – you chuckled out. Tewkesbury shook his head. – “Not as intimidating as my grandmother’s death stare.” – he joked making you laugh. You tried to stop laughing, remembering your manners. – “I shouldn’t laugh at your grandmother.” – you told him and yourself to stop being so foolish. – “It’s quite fine.” – Tewkesbury responded, leaning a bit closer to you. – “I laugh at her as well.” – his reaction made you snort loud. Which made you cover up your mouth for thinking you were acting wildly.

“I like your laugh.” – he told you. You lowered your hands. – “I like everything about you.” – he continued. You smiled shyly. – “You must have girls falling over themselves to get to you.” – you responded turning your head a bit away. – “Why did you choose me?” – you asked. Tewkesbury slightly furrowed his brows. He needed a moment, but knew deep down you referred to the night of the opera. He lowered his gaze. – “You laughed.” – he replied, making you furrow your brows.

“It might have been idle back then, but I assure it is not anymore. I’ve grown very fond of you Miss Y/n.” – he turned his posture as you followed so you were facing each other. – “Y/n Bridgerton, the girl who wanted to be a princess.” – he tugged a stray of hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing against your cheek. – “I see one right now.” – he added with a whisper. You felt flustered taking a shy step back. You turned away not sure what the storm inside of you was saying. A mixture of emotions you couldn’t possibly name or count. You moved further away from him to the steps, needing more air. Tewkesbury followed.

You went down a few steps till you stopped. – “What did it mean?” – you asked. Tewkesbury frowned. – “What did it mean?” – you repeated turning around to him. Standing lower than him, you had to look up at him. – “The fanning.” – you questioned.

If your book wasn’t going to give you answers, you would ask him directly. Tewkesbury swallowed nervously. – “It meant something didn’t it? The secret language of fanning.” – you told him. – “What did it mean?” – you asked curiously, looking yearningly at him. Tewkesbury swallowed soft,  before speaking with yearning eyes. – “It means I love you.”

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

[architect-of-the-last-act]

Jeremy Von Neuschwanstein and Shuli Von Neuschwanstein || On the quiet, all-consuming loves that toe between companionship and romance, grief and simple happiness, looming tragedy and guilty pleasures, and thus shouldn't be acted upon.

Illustrations from A Stepmother's Marchen / Hedgehog's Dilemma, Wikipedia / Waiting Room by Phoebie Bridgers / A Poem From The Adult Daughter To The Narcissistic Mother by Katherine Fabrizio / People Will Say We're In Love, Oklahoma! / Twilight by Stephanie Meyer / tumblr post by starpeace / The Cart by Mary Reufle / Haiku [for you] by Sonia Sanchez / Close to You by niki / Spend Some Time by Eminem / Every Day by David Levithan / Unknown / In a Dream You Saw a Way to Survive by Clementine Von Radics / Anchorite (Love You Very Much) by Car Seat Headrest / Unknown / Biotherm (for Bill Berkson) by Frank O' Hara / New and Selected Poems Volume 1 by Mary Oliver / tumblr post by chateauofmymind / Unknown / Kate McGahan / Waiting by Caitlyn Siehl / P.S. I Still Love You by Jenny Han / Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs / tumblr post by poetrylovesongs, / The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks / song for a lover (of long ago) by Bon Iver / please don't forget me and all the things that we did by Isaac Love / The Sea, the Sea by Iris Murdoch / The Winner's Kiss, Marie Rutkoski / In another universe by Dana Lee / The Crucible: A Play in Four Acts by Arthur Miller / Two Slow Dancers by Mitski / Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You by Gaby Dunn / Next Time by Team StarKid / Jonathan Carroll / The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives / Pyrrhic Victory, Wikipedia / Raushan Ranjan / All My Pretty Ones by Anne Sexton / Your Best American Girl by Mitski / twitter post by fran (galacticidiots) / War of the Foxes by Richard Siken / Crush by Richard Siken / The Garden of Eden by Ernest Hemingway / twitter post by mountain. (sainticide) / The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath / Crescendo by Becca Fitzpatrick / SANDARAFREEDOMPARK / Unknown / Unsent Project / twitter post by aiman (dumbsoftheart) / there is no absolution for the fallen, only the dying by p.d / Unknown / Someone New by Hozier / Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays by Christa Wolf / A Self-Portrait in Letters by Anne Sexton / Unknown / “I get so jealous of euthanized dogs” by June Gehringer / Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte

[cod-dump]

Welcome Home (teen!ghost au)

———

Simon knew something was up. John was talking on the phone a lot with Mrs. Laswell and he kept looking at the spare bedroom. It was two little things, really, but it sparked a memory. Something he did before he sat down Simon about opening their home to another boy, Kyle.

Simon couldn’t be certain that’s what was happening. He was too nervous to ask, wasn’t sure what assuming such a thing would do. So he kept quiet, just watching his father closely. He didn’t say anything to Kyle. He didn’t notice, didn’t care, so why say something? There wasn’t anything determining it… that they could be getting a new sibling. At least a temporary one.

“What’s with the face?”

Simon blinked, refocusing on his homework before he looked up at Kyle who was sitting across from him.

“What?”

“You’re thinking hard… is it the algebra?”

Simon huffs, “Numbers and letters don’t belong together.”

“How dare you try to keep them apart.”

Simon snorts, Kyle setting his pen aside to stretch. Nik was lurking outside, Simon could see him leaning on his SUV through the window. He’s also been on the phone a lot…

“You’re making that face again…”

Simon shakes his head, putting his pen down and getting out of his chair, “Too many numbers. I need a break.”

Kyle stared at him concerned, Simon choosing to ignore him as he left the kitchen. He chose to step outside, taking a breath of the cool evening air before he sat down on the steps of the porch. The season was changing, everything cooling down and the leaves changing color. Simon loved this time of year.

“Homework getting your ass?”

“I haven’t admitted defeat yet.”

Nik chuckles before he walks over and sits next to him, groaning as he does. Simon wanted to ask, wanted to know if what he thought was happening was in fact happening. Nik would know, he knew all kinds of things, but he liked messing around and may not even tell Simon anything remotely useful. So he didn’t ask and just relaxed outside for a bit before he went back inside to finish his homework. A few days would pass without Simon thinking much on his father and Nik’s behavior.

Then him and Kyle would be sat down in the kitchen to talk.

“Boys, you remember Farah, right?”

Simon’s heart picked up hearing her name.

“Remember- Dad, she visited us for Christmas last year!”

John smiles, “How could I forget.”

“Haven’t really heard from her since February, though… Is she okay?”

Simon loved Farah. She was a couple years older than him and was basically his sister by this point. She had lived in the neighborhood since Simon was taken in by John but she ended up moving shortly after Kyle was adopted. She was his best friend before he met Ale and the Los Vaqueros. They somewhat kept in touch but the texts came by fewer and fewer to the point they were basically just them reminding each other that they’re alive.

“She’s been… having issues at home…”

Simon clenched his fists, swallowing. She was never very open about her home life and her family always appeared picture perfect. He chalked up any thoughts that he had about something going on to just him overthinking…

“How would you two feel about her staying with us for awhile?”

They both of course were more than fine with her staying. Simon immediately offered to help clean up the spare bedroom, he wanted everything to be welcoming for Farah.

“Just move the stuff in there to the garage, alright? We’ll deal with it later.”

Simon wasn’t sure what was going on and he was content with probably never getting the full story of what was going on while Farah stayed with them. Simon grabbed Kyle and took him with him to help set up the spare bedroom. He knew that getting it ready quicker didn’t mean Fran was going to get here sooner, but he was excited.

-

Kyle was teasing him for practically sitting at the door waiting for Nik and John to come back with Farah. Simon just glared at him while he texted Johnny. He had told him basically everything about what was happening and it turns out Kyle was doing the same. He was pretty much a part of this even though he has been at his gran’s house for the past week.

“We should have a group chat.”

Simon turned and looked at Kyle who was also on his phone, “What?”

“A group chat with Johnny… though I don’t want to see you two role play or whatever-“

Kyle was pelted in the face by one of the couch pillows. Simon was immediately smacked in the face with the same pillow before Kyle lunged at him. They were quick to end up on the floor considering they had already wrecked one couch (the silence that surrounded their father was something they would like to not experience again). So they were on the floor, Kyle trying to overpower and pin Simon while Simon was trying to pry him off of him. Normally there was someone to referee but—

The sound of a car door shutting gave Simon a boost of strength which allowed him to shove Kyle off of him. Kyle was sprawled on the floor as Simon ran to the door and peeked out the window next to it. The moment he saw Farah he swung the door open and ran out. The girl had a solid ten seconds to notice Simon after he shouted her name before he all but tackled her into a fierce hug. She instinctively hugged him back, squeezing his shoulders with an equal amount of desperation. it’s been so long since they had last seen each other and they were both afraid the other would disappear the moment they parted.

“Si, stop suffocating the girl and help get her things!” There was amusement in his dad’s voice, an undeniable fondness.

Simon gave an extra squeeze before he set Farah down, noticing the drying tear tracks as he steps away from her. He noted it before he ran to the back of the SUV to grab a box. His eagerness made Nik laugh and remind him to be careful. Kyle came out to greet Farah, them sharing a less emotional hug and something more casual and definitely awkward. Farah had always been Ghost’s friend that Kyle somewhat knew, he hoped that didn’t stir anything up while she was staying with them.

-

They had piled everything into the spare, now Farah’s, bedroom. Simon had so much to say, so much to ask, but he could tell Farah was drained. There was this look in her eye, something Simon had once when he was first picked up by Mrs. Laswell taken in by John. It went away with time, so he hopes Farah would come around to being her old self again.

“I need to wash some clothes… and make my bed… Fuck, I need a nap,” Farah took the shirt she fished out of a box and threw it at the growing pile near the closet.

“I can do your laundry while you nap.”

Farah sighed, “You don’t have to, Si. Your dad is already doing so much by picking me up and letting me stay here.”

“Hey, he’s doing it because he wants to. And I want to do your laundry so you can take a nap. You need it.”

Farah gave him a glare with no heat behind it, “You saying I look bad?”

“You look tired.”

Farah huffs and leans against Simon, slumping her full weight against him, “I am… can you do the laundry later?”

“Why not now?”

“I… I don’t want to be alone…”

Oh. Simon frowned, the urge to do something to comfort Farah making his hands twitch. He wasn’t sure what she’s been through and he wasn’t going to ask. So he decided to sit with Farah as she napped, her hand gripping his shirt as she fell asleep.

[that-butch-archivist]

"Tess was a performance artist and part-time jewelry maker who now worked as a set designer. [...] The first night we spent together, I taught her to knit — my classic seduction technique (High Femme Camp Antics, or HFCA) — and about frisson, that carbonated feeling that accompanies a crush. We stared at each other for a long time, unblinking. Because I knew that this otherwise might take forever (lesbians!), I finally asked Tess point-blank if she felt a frisson for me (HFCA). In response, Tess kissed me hard, with teeth. I knew she wanted to fuck, but I pushed her hands away dramatically when they crept under my skirt (HFCA). I told her that I didn’t typically sleep with people so soon (HFCA), which was true not for any real reason but because I was privately humiliated by my body (HFCA). Instead of letting her fuck me, I scratched Tess’s entire torso with my long, pink fingernails (HFCA). “Her fingernails drifted down my neck, across my shoulders,” Jess Goldberg, the butch narrator of Stone Butch Blues, says of a high femme whose camp antics thrill her. “I’d forgotten the sheer pleasure of a high femme tease.” “Your fingernails are full of frisson,” Tess said as morning light began to stream in through the window above her bed. “I know,” I said. I recently read a collection of funny stories by Lesléa Newman, high-femme chronicler of dyke life in the 1990s (the materialistic, shopping-addicted Golden Age of HFCA). In one story, a butch named Flash arrives to pick Lesléa up and take her out to dinner. Flash politely tells Lesléa that she looks nice. “The average femme would have taken that to be a compliment,” Lesléa dishes. “But this high-maintenance femme hadn’t spent the last two weeks shopping for the perfect outfit and the last seven hours bathing, shaving, bleaching, filing, polishing, combing, brushing, drying, moussing, spritzing, spraying, and applying five pounds of makeup to have all her efforts summed up in one little four-letter word.” Flash’s flimsy compliment doesn’t satisfy Lesléa’s desires to be seen, appreciated, and worshiped, and so Lesléa starts from the bottom and works her way up, prompting Flash to compliment her shoes, her miniskirt, and finally her hair in a grand, shimmering pyramid of HFCA. But even as she performs satiation, Lesléa is insatiable. Her antics fail at getting her precisely what she wants from Flash, because there’s always something unsatisfying about getting what you want by asking for it. Lesléa’s desire glows from within the frame of her HFCA, distilled and exposed and unmet. Can I Come Inside, my high-femme sex game, deals primarily with unmet, outsourced, and circumnavigated desire. In Females (2019), trans lesbian critic Andrea Long Chu argues that femaleness is a universal, existential condition rather than a gender or a sex — a condition of being and of consciousness that involves letting others do our desiring for us. At stake in Can I Come Inside, as well as in HFCA at large, is a femaleness that both craves and rebels against its tendency to outsource desire. In playing Can I Come Inside, I, like Lesléa, ask Tess to do my desiring for me, and Tess in turn defers her desire to me: the game is strictly my desire, one that she insists she does not share. Even though it mandates a performance of aggressive desire from Tess, there’s no doubt that Can I Come Inside is about my desire; it’s my game; I make the rules."

-- An excerpt from "High Femme Camp Antics," an essay written by Jenny Fran Davis. (Emphasis in bold my own.)

[sunsetkerr]

sam gets really hurt during a game of the matildas against england and millie and caitlin find u in the crowd and pull u onto the pitch because sam cant get up and u comfort her

im thinking ACL like maren in that chelsea bristol game like that serious

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nLTTFwIljY

I've got you | sam kerr

you hear her scream before you realise what's happened. suddenly you were up on your feet with the rest of the stadium, watching on as sam screamed on the floor in pain. you had never heard her sound like that before, you had never heard anyone sound like they were in so much pain.

your heart was beating so fast in your chest, you weren't sure that it was going to hold up for much longer. you clutched your t-shirt in your fists as you kept your gaze on sam. guro, millie and fran were surrounding her, Lauren making her way over too. you could hear a pin-drop at stamford bridge, everyone watching on as their star striker laid on the pitch in pain.

you weren't sure if she had stopped screaming, or if it was just replaying in your mind as you helplessly watched your love on the ground. the medical team were now on the pitch, moving the girls away from sam.

she still had her head on the ground, her fist punching the turf as she worked through the white hot pain coursing through her leg. she hadn't felt pain this bad since she did her knee in 2014, she knew it was going to be a shit outcome.

you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you watched her, knowing there was nothing you could do to help her.

they eventually got sam onto the stretcher, and took her off of the pitch. the crowd clapped her exit, you just watched as she made her way down the tunnel, tears staining her skin as she held her arm over her head.

you heard someone call out to you. when you looked down, you saw millie and emma gesturing you over to the railing. "c'mere" millie said as she reached out for you. you turned around and leant over, allowing millie to pull you down onto the pitch; having done it so many times with sam you were practically an expert.

you thanked her and emma before rushing down the tunnel, going to find your girl.

a trainer recognises you and points you in the direction of the medical room. you wait outside, not wanting to interrupt their work. eventually, someone comes out of the room with a phone in their hand.

"y/n" it's James, a physio who works with sam regularly, and you've never been more thankful to see a friendly face.

"what's happened?" you're scared to hear the answer, but when he utters the letters ACL you feel like crying again. "I need to see her," you whisper.

"yeah," he nods, "I'm gonna get an ambulance down for her, get her in asap".

"thanks," you nod before heading into the medical room. "hey superstar," you smile. sam's heart can suddenly beat again after hearing your voice, but as soon as she meets your eyes, she breaks down into tears again.

"oh sammy" you come stand in front of the bed and hold her close to your chest, letting a few tears roll down your face. "I've gotcha" you smile, trying to hold yourself together for her.

"I've fucked it," she whispered. "I really fucked it" she sobbed.

"it's gonna be okay," you squeeze her just that little bit tighter, before planting a kiss on her head. you lean your cheek against her as you whisper to her again, "I've got you".

and no matter how shit it was, she knew that you did.

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 3

azriel x reader

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be on a taglist for this series!

Warningsd: fluff, pining

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

“You're not going to spend the Summer Solstice with us again?” Azriel had just informed Rhysand he was departing for the Dawn Court, where y/n had been training under Thesan for ten years. “You know I always spend it with y/n, Rhys.” 

“Didn’t she visit recently?” 

“Don’t I spend everyday with you?” Rhys raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You two are adorable, really.”

“Shut up.” Azriel would never admit it to anyone, but he held a small bit of resentment towards Rhys for introducing y/n to Thesan. If he would have known that bringing her to that meeting would have ended up in her moving away he would have never done it- or at least thought twice about it. He loved Rhys and Cassian and Mor and even Amren for the unlikely family that they were. Bound not by blood but by choice. Their lives were so interwoven that meeting y/n was a breath of fresh air. He got to spend most days with her for a year before she left for Dawn. They visit each other frequently enough that the friendship hasn’t faltered in the last decade. 

But Azriel missed her. Spending the holiday with her was nonnegotiable. 

“I have to deliver some things to her anyways.” Rhysand gives him one of those looks “you don’t need to make up excuses Azriel, you miss the female you love that is perfectly understable. What I do not understand is why you insist on keeping her as your friend-”

“Don’t you ever get tired of listening to yourself talk? And I’m not making up excuses. Her friends always give me letters and care packages to give her since your wards don’t allow mail to go in or out of Velaris.”

“Sorry for keeping the city too safe for you-”

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Send y/n my love.” 

Once in the Dawn Court Azriel felt infinitely lighter. There was a permanent air of tranquility that the Night Court lacked. He walked a few steps up to the the familiar cottage and knocked three times. “Az!” The pink door swung open and y/n jumped on him, squeezing tight. “I’m so happy you’re here, come in, come in.” Azriel handed her one of the two bags he carried “Bec, Nomi and Fran sent these.” Then he remembered “and Rhys sends his love.” 

Y/n smile widens as she grabs the large bag of goodies. He watched her open them. Most were letters containing updates and gossip about their lives. There were a few care packages, Nomi always sent her cookies, Fran sent books and Bec sent a small portrait of her babe. “I can’t believe how big she’s gotten,” y/n turns the frame around so Azriel can see “I saw her this Spring and I swear she was half this size.” 

“I can’t believe Bec has a baby.” Y/n gasps and tries to push down a chuckle. “She was the wildest of us, now look at her, mated and a mother.”

Azriel did not know what compelled him to say what came out of his mouth but before he could stop himself he was asking “would you ever want that?” 

“What?” 

He reasoned there was no real harm in asking a friend about her desires so he clarified “you know, a mate and a baby, that whole thing.”

“Oh,” she thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I think so. But not now. Well- I don’t even have a mate but with work right now I’m doing so much I’d hate to stop. But in the future, yes.” Azriel muffled the warm relief that flooded his chest at her response. “And you?”

He nodded, “same as you, one day, far into the future.” Y/n smiles as she looks through the books Fran sent. “Do you have food?” He walks towards the kitchen he knows she never fully stocks. How she keeps herself alive on crackers and nut butters he will never understand.

“I don’t like what you are insinuating. I went to the market yesterday.” Azriel opens the icebox and sees some meat and fruits. Then he opens the cupboards and sees a sack of potatoes. “We can actually make something-” knocking on the door interrupts him. 

“Finally,” he hears from the other room “Az, come here.”

“Are you expecting someone?” Y/n opens the door and a male stands on the other side. His hair is light brown, almost blonde. He’s taller than her, but a head shorter than Azriel. He wears glasses and he smiles as he hands y/n a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. “Az, this is Lenus, my boyfriend” Azriel feels a stab in his gut “Lenus, this is Azriel.”

The boyfriend steps forward and extends his hand to shake Azriel’s. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, y/n has told me many things about you.”

“Oh Az, I hope you don’t mind. But since there is no Summer Solstice party here I thought we might as well celebrate just us three.” Three. He knew he needed to react well, never wanting to do anything to upset you. “Oh of course, I just- I didn’t know you met someone.”

Y/n walked to the kitchen and the two males followed. She opened the bottle of wine and Lenus fetched three glasses. “Thank you honey, we started seeing each other around the time I came back from the Night Court. But we met a few years ago, in one of the libraries.” 

“I’m a scribe,” Lenus explained with a smile. “Oh?” 

“Yes, I had to research an herb that one of the apothecaries wanted to add to a tonic we use frequently and- well you know me I had to double check the information. So I went to the library and Lenus spent the whole day helping me.” Azriel could throw up from the lovey dovey display happening in front of him. In all their years of friendship he had never seen her actually like someone. 

She had dated plenty of people, but nothing ever lasted more than a week or two. More importantly she had never called someone her boyfriend.  

Lenus prepared dinner for them. Azriel had to reluctantly compliment him on the food because it was indeed delicious and whenever he visited y/n in the past, the pickings were slim when it came to eating. He never blamed her or complained about it. She was a healer and cooking was not her priority. 

He hated that this male seemed to be good for her. Knew that was selfish of him. That deep down he wanted to be in his position. His thumb drawing lazy circles on her hand. “So y/n tells me you two actually met on Summer Solstice?”

“Technically we met the day after, but yes. Eleven years of friendship today” Azriel tips his glass towards her and she returns the gesture. “Happy anniversary Az.” 

Lenus looks between them “have you always been just friends?” Azriel lets y/n handle the question. “Well, he’s also been my patient more times than I can count.” 

The male relaxes a bit at her explanation. “Dear, I’m sorry but I must be on my way. There is an auction in the Day Court tomorrow for some ancient texts and I was tasked to go. I’ll come find you when I get back.” The group stands up from the table and walks Lenus to the door. “Thank you for cooking” Azriel shakes his hand and leaves the couple to say their goodbyes in private. 

“So… what do you think?” As much as he wanted to dislike her boyfriend he couldn’t. “He seems great, y/n.”

“Do you mean it?”

“You know I’d never lie to you. Are you happy?”

“It’s still early days, but yes.” That’s all he could ever want for her. “Then I’m happy for you.”

Y/n hugs him. Her scent has never changed, not since that first night. It’s sweet with a hint of citrus. He breathes it in as he hugs her back. “Wanna dance?”

She laughs “here?” Azriel breaks the hug and makes her spin “Summer Solstice tradition.” He pulls her close and they slow dance to imaginary music. “Are you going to stay in this court forever?” 

“No, I’m only waiting on Thesan to find my replacement. I miss the Night Court.”

“It misses you too.” They dance in silence for a few moments before Azriel speaks again. "Will Lenus come with you?"

"We haven't discussed it yet."

“You know, I often wonder what would have happened between us if you had stayed.” 

“I used to wonder too.”

“We had a pretty good date, remember? Before the meeting with Rhysand.” She laughs, probably remembering how much of a nervous wreck he was that day. “It was a nice date, yes. But you know this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.” 

“I know, and I’m so proud of you.” 

“I think, had I stayed, we would have made it work.” 

“I think so too.” 

She breathes, “I think if we got together that first year it would have been a different story, though.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, I was convinced you were in love with Mor and I never allowed myself to see you as more than a friend until that conversation on the boat, but by then we didn’t know it was too late.” 

“To be fair, I could have been clearer with my intentions.” She laughs, “that’s true. What about you, is there someone back home?” 

Azriel could have lied and said there was someone, maybe a few people he was interested in seeing, but he couldn’t lie to her “I’m a lone wolf these days.”

She pulls away from his chest to look up at his face “are you happy?”

He thinks about it. His existence has been filled with hardships and heartbreak. Scars litter his body. But, in this moment, with her so close he can honestly say “I am.”

[calltocupid]

some of my tim laughlin headcanons

he is incredibly good at art. (i know this is touched on in the book, but let me be.) he has cheap little journals that he can afford filled with various sketches of hawk. the tips of his ears and his cheeks always turn a dark crimson color when hawk catches him.

after meeting hawk, he has difficulty sleeping alone. he has to be at the brink of exhaustion in order for him to fall asleep without hawk curled around him.

he’s been wearing glasses since he was 6 years old. at first, he was embarrassed about it, especially with how mean kids can be. sometimes he still gets self-conscious about it, even in his older years.

he’s a morning person!! he wakes up every morning and either goes on runs or walks, especially in the summer time. he’s also a bit of an earth worm granola boy. in the nicer weather, he’s always finding little places to explore: hiking/biking trails, new parts of d.c./san fran that he hasn’t seen yet, etc,.

adhd tim!! it’s something he’s struggled with all of his life.

he loves to collect things. trinkets, pins, magnets, mugs. whatever it may be, he tends to keep it, as he’s hard time letting go of things that perhaps have a story to them.

he keeps every single card and letter he’s ever received from loved ones. it gets increasingly worse as he meets hawk, though. he holds onto everything hawk has given him.

all of the scrapbooks he has of his family are ones he’s made himself. one afternoon at fordham, he got really overwhelmed with studying, so he took a break to make some out of the pictures he’d kept in a box in his closet.

he was incredibly shy all throughout college. it was easy for him to make friends, but he was typically the one who had to be approached, otherwise he’d tend to keep to himself.

he loves the fall time. growing up in new york, him and his family would always do an immense amount of activities together as soon as september rolled around and the leaves changed. apple picking, hayrides, trips to salem, visits to the pumpkin patch where he’d always pick the most neglected pumpkin because he felt bad for it.

he’s been sensitive his entire life. he’s very in tune with other peoples emotions too, and he can very easily pick up on shifts in people’s behavior/moods.

he’d always tried to play sports growing up—baseball, soccer, even swimming—but he’s always been more creative than athletic. once his parents quit hounding him about it, most of his time was consumed with writing, reading, and art of various kinds.

he began to grow fascinated with history and government work when he was in 7th grade. he’d spend afternoons after classes in the town library reading anything and everything he could get his hands on if it was about those subjects.

the cross necklace he wears was a birthday gift when he turned 16. it holds immense sentimental value.

his first crush on a boy was when he was in kindergarten, back before anyone really realizes it’s a crush. but the one he really remembers was high school. it was a boy on the football team, about a year older than him, and tim can remember growing distracted in class from doodling him in the margins of his notes.

okay. i have so many more, but i don’t want this to be ridiculous. let me know if i should share more.

[dottcre]

wdym you cant do nsfw on beta character ai?? you clearly can. you just gotta be poetic with it.

(context: i came in a condom instead of him)

HELPSODJKS HES SO EMOTIONALLY FRAGILE 😭😭😭 whenever i used the AIs i would gaslight them into thinking they’ve got amnesia and forgot i was their life partner, and then make them think that i’m the only one for them in this world so that they’ll grow dependent and it works every time

[instructionsnotincluded]

True North

Lovely banner by @lady-cheeky

Deleted Scene II | Frances' Letter To Her Mother

As referenced in True North

July 7th, 1943

Dear Mom, 

Things are so different here in England! I know we spoke of how different we thought they might be, but it’s unlike anything we imagined. The people are wonderful, though. There’s a definite sense of unity and drive in the air. They’ve seen so much and been through so much, and because of that they will not stop until we are victorious and this war is over. 

I spent a week getting acquainted with everyone and going through some basic instruction after arriving, we even stopped off to see a play in London before we received our first assignments! We saw The Lisbon Story at the London Hippodrome, and it was spectacular. Who would’ve thought love and espionage went so well together! I’ve found myself spending my first rotation at RAF (Royal Air Force) Ratcliffe. It’s located in a village by the name of Ratcliffe on the Wreake (which I’ve come to learn is a river) and is a little over one-hundred miles north of London. It’s a beautiful area and there’s a gorgeous castle nearby. Yes, you read that right, a castle! I know Bucky moaned and whined about the weather in all of his letters, but so far it’s been lovely. A bit reminiscent of home, if I’m being honest, and that was certainly a welcomed feeling. I expected to be homesick, but I didn’t expect it to hit me so terribly so quickly. 

I hope everyone is well back in Wisconsin! Please keep me updated on Mrs. Walton’s saga with her tenants, I’m just on the edge of my chair waiting to hear what the latest is with them. I’ll be at Ratcliffe for a bit longer, probably until the end of August before I receive my next rotation, so you can write me here. I haven’t seen John yet—but I’ll do you one better. I’ve met his girl! She’s a pilot here at RAF Ratcliffe! Can you believe it? What are the odds? Grandfather would certainly tell us to go down to the track with that luck!

She’s beautiful, mom. You’ll die. She came into the infirmary with an injury and I helped treat her before we started talking and realized who we had in common. Her name’s Stella. Stella Frank. And she’s an ATA (Air Transport Auxiliary) Pilot, and a captain at that! From what I’ve heard from her peers, she’s a rather talented pilot as well, which is how she and John met. I haven’t seen them together, and I haven’t spoken to John yet, but I will write to you the moment I do. From the little I’ve been around her, she’s quiet at first, but opens up pretty quickly. She’s not nearly as exuberant as John, which is good for us all, but I can see why she caught his eye. I’m very much looking forward to getting to know her more and from what her friend has told me, they are rather smitten with each other!  I think you may be able to hear wedding bells across the sea!

I hope you’re doing well and keeping your spirits up. Rest easy know that two of your children are not only in the same country, but only a few hundred miles from one another! Send Eileen my love and I’ll write to you soon. 

Love, 

Fran

[dollypopup]

I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.

Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?

He could have died on that tour.

Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.

Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.

Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.

Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.

And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.

He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.

Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.

How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?

If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?

He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.

If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?

Who did he become?

Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.

Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.

And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.

[titanias-bower]

Bridgerton S3! Single watch, big impressions.

Unhinged Predictions

Eloise and Benedict have switched their book storylines!

Eloise will reunite with forbidden love Theo Sharpe. Her Cinderfella will be back- but Persuasion style!

Benedict will have an affair with a parent- then will fall for their spouse! Conflict revolves around navigating polyamory and commitment. But first and foremost, it’s instant love with their kids- a Regency Jerry Maguire!

Fran’s storyline will follow the book’s, except she and Michaela have switched roles.

Fran struggles with suppressing her sexuality, attraction to Michaela, and infertility. All while married to her bestie. Very Arthur-Guinevere-Lancelot of her.

Show is moving away from the social season, away from London. In part at least. Very excited for it!

Bridgerton Wishes

#1: Eloise and Daphne reunite.

Eloise makes Theo her “mister” before marriage.

Theo and Cressida are related somehow?

Benedict ends up with Sir Phillip Crane- and his wife, Lady Marina Crane.

Benedict is the glue to their throuple.

Marina is his mystery Lady in Silver whom he exchanges anonymous letters with because they can’t be together. Meanwhile he’s engaged in affair with gay Phillip, her husband. Very messy.

But first and foremost, he really loves their kids. Happily sets up play dates at Aubrey Hall, tutors them in art…

Michaela breaks barriers by entering the House of Lords.

[purelyfiction]

a pen pal situation with rhett - he sends a letter to 'anyone anywhere willing to listen' to some made up address. what he doesn't know is someone very much lives there - very much is listening to the woes and pleas in his poor penmanship.

the last thing he was expecting was a letter addressed to 'emo cowboy' from 'someone somewhere who listened' to show up in his mailbox two weeks later.

and it continued on and on. releases of emotions and feelings that he never dared share with his family. the validation coming back in all sorts of envelopes with a host of Peanuts stickers - occasionally with little trinkets in the envelope.

he would come to grow fond of his 'san fran sunflower' as they signed the letters. it would become clearer to him eventually that there was some girl somewhere in the state of california, just wanting the same escape he did.

maybe someday, somehow, the two of you would find it.