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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Spare Me A Moment? // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: I’d love to request a Benedict fic, if that’s okay ☺️ Maybe one where the reader doesnt belong to the ton and works for the Bridgertons and he falls for her but she can’t quite believe it (because why would he fall for someone of her status?) but eventually admits that she has feelings for him too? I hope this is something you’d like to write 🙈 Thank you so much 💛 - @dreaming-about-fanfictions

A/N: My first Bridgerton request and it’s from my dear, Astrid! Thank you, my lovely. I only hope I have done it justice. There are moments in this that are inspired by Downton Abbey (a different time period, I know, but I adapt) and the way the fic is written is meant to jump about POVs before finally bringing the reader or Benedict as the sole focus of the scene.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, female reader, class differences, societal differences, pining, mutual pining, kissing, honest conversations, bridgertons being bridgertons, healthy family relationships.

Word Count: 5.4k

Of the families that resided in Grosvenor Square, there was not one so loved by their staff than that of the Bridgertons. They treated their staff fairly with decent wages and housing well as treating them with respect. The staff that work for the Bridgertons are so admired by the family that those in their employment tend not to leave for years on end; perfectly happy to remain devoted to one family.

To be a housemaid in a home such as Bridgerton House was an honour; as was repeated by the butler, Jenkins and the Head Housemaid, Mrs. Thorpe when (Y/N) began working in the house many years ago.

There was no other way to put it, (Y/N) adored working in Bridgerton House. She never minded the early starts, or the late finishes when the season was in full swing. She could never find herself bothered by having to pick up after the youngest children; their shoes and books lying about hallways and staircases, ready to cause an injury. (Y/N) was utterly devoted to the family; she could never imagine working anywhere else.

And if she had admired the second born Bridgerton with an interest that spoke to more of an employer/servant relationship, then that was (Y/N)’s cross to bear.

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For months he had watched her from the centre of attention. He had observed how she held herself; tall and proud of the work she completed daily.

It had been a passing glance that had started it all. A polite smile and nod from her as Benedict passed in her the hallway, and suddenly he was hit with one, if not all, of Cupid’s arrows. After that, Benedict started to notice (Y/N) everywhere – started to notice the extra attention she paid Hyacinth when she was missing Gregory; he noticed how she would go out of her way to ensure his mother’s comfort in her drawing room, fluffing up cushions and pillows, and offering a blanket should there be a chill.

Benedict began to notice all of this and for a moment, he wondered whether he was beginning to lose his mind. He knew of the barriers between them, but that didn’t stop him from experience the raw emotion of wanting her. Benedict didn’t like to think how many hours of the day he devoted to thinking of her; dreaming of her.

All he wanted was to talk to her. To have a few minutes with her to plead his case; to help her understand that there is the very real possibility of a relationship between then should she feel the same way. How often he had dreamed of her feeling the same way…

A lovesick fool. Benedict Bridgerton was a lovesick fool but should (Y/N) spare him a moment, he would be her lovesick fool.

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From the very moment she woke, (Y/N) had been on her feet, rushing from room to room, tidying up after everyone. The whole Bridgerton family would be descending on the main house for the final meal of the day; they were welcoming Anthony and his new wife, Kate, home from their honeymoon.

That meant everything had to be perfect. That meant there was very little time to wander through the house; Jenkins was already close to tears; he could not be pushed any further.

The chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway has (Y/N) hastening her steps, trying not to look too rushed as she thinks of the dinner service still needing to be taken upstairs and the wine to decant and the port to breathe. Whilst Anthony had a collection of whiskies and brandies in his study, the port was kept to the realm of the butler – Jenkins knew exactly what to buy and when to serve it. Tonight was one such occasion, and it still needed to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict calls, hurrying after her as she makes her way back to her quarters to dress for the dinner service. Jenkins, the Butler, would not be best pleased if she were to show up late.

“Mr. Bridgerton, how can I help you?” (Y/N) asks, curtseying to the second-born Bridgerton before eyeing the grandfather clock and noting the time.

“Spare me a moment of your time, please?”

“You should be getting ready for dinner. I know that Benjamin has laid out your clothes.”

“I want to talk to you… only for a moment, I know you have jobs to attend to.”

Smoothing down her apron, (Y/N) smiles softly at the brunette. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I thought it was obvious but perhaps not,” Benedict murmurs to himself, practically ignoring her question.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton but I must be getting on.”

“No!” He all but shouts, reaching for your hand, “Spare me another moment of your time… please.”

She wavers as if caught between the berating she will no doubt receive from the Butler for being late to the dinner service or letting down her employer whom she stands in front of. After a moment’s silence, her decision is made. “How can I help you, Mr. Bridgerton?” She repeats.

“Call me Benedict, please.”

She shakes her head, “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Mr. Bridgerton. It would be improper.”

Benedict hesitates; his hand still outstretched towards her as if desperate to feel her underneath his palms. “I’ve gone about this all wrong,” He says, eyes sad.

“Pardon?”

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict confesses, speaking plainly as if he hasn’t changed her world in six words.

“What?” She gasps; propriety falling away from her for a moment as the words he uttered settle into her skin.

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict repeats, voice firmer as he becomes surer of himself.

“How?” She asks, her face and voice puzzled, “I’m a housemaid, Mr. Bridgerton.”

His eyebrows furrow as if such a thing shouldn’t matter in their world. Yet it does – status is everything; titles are everything. A man who hails from a family such as the Bridgertons could not marry, let alone fall in love with one of the serving class. It simply didn’t happen. There was the occasional affair, but (Y/N) knew herself well enough not to be reserved as a mistress – it was not her destiny. She was to marry for love.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I find myself thinking of you every waking minute of the day. I find it hard not to stare at you when I see you completing your duties. At night, I long for it to be you lying next to me instead of the emptiness of the bed. I don’t know how it happened, (Y/N). All I know is that I am in love with you. This is no farce or folly.”

The words fall over her as rain would fall over grass. They soak into her skin, mould to her bones and become part of her in the span of mere seconds. Mere seconds, and her world has changed. As much as she longed to hear those words from his lips, this could not happen. Moving away from him, her chest aching with every step, she whispers her excuse to escape, “I’m sorry, Mr. Bridgerton, I need to get back downstairs.”

Watching her walk away from him, Benedict feels something heavy settle in his chest, pressing his lungs down and making it difficult to breathe. The barriers between them were so entrenched into society, Benedict begins to worry that he has lost her before he every truly got to know her.

Shaking his head, determination sets his nerves to steel. He would try again, he promises himself. He would not pester, but he would do what he could to ensure a brighter future for the both of them.

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“We’re down a footman,” Jenkins panics, “I’ve had to send William to bed with a head cold. We’re down one footman in the dining room.”

“What do you propose we do?” Mrs. Thorpe asks of the grey-haired man. Hands on her hips and her lips, thin, Mrs. Thorpe was not a woman to be trifled with. She had not run Bridgerton House for close to thirty years for Jenkins’ panic to ruin a single evening. So far in their shared career with the Bridgerton family, his nerves had almost ruined an engagement party, a christening, an end of season masquerade ball and now, a traditional family dinner.

The colour fades from Jenkins’ face as he mutters, “I’m going to have to have a housemaid in the dining room.”

Mrs. Thorpe rolls her eyes at the antics of the overly dramatic butler. “It won’t be the end of the world to have a housemaid in the dining room. Take (Y/N) – she’s liked well enough by the family and knows how to serve.”

Jenkins sighs wearily as if the weight of the world rests upon his shoulders. “I suppose I have no choice. Will you let (Y/N) know?”

(Y/N) is walking down the stairs to the lower levels of the house when she hears Mrs. Thorpe call her name. Turning, as she lands on the bottom step, she has a fond smile on her face for the Head Housekeeper. “Mrs. Thorpe,” (Y/N) greets.

“We’re down a footman this evening, dear,” Mrs. Thorpe says in greeting, never one to beat around the bush, “Would you be able to cover the dining room with Jenkins and Benjamin?”

“The dining room?” (Y/N) questions as the rug is pulled from underneath her feet for the second time that afternoon. It would mean having to see Benedict once more, but what choice was there.

“Yes,” Mrs. Thorpe confirms, “There aren’t enough bodies to cover the whole family. Everyone is dining tonight.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) smiles, “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll also take William a tray when I get a moment’s reprieve.”

Mrs. Thorpe smiles; the corners of her eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You are a gem. Thank you, dear.”

(Y/N) nods, smiling at the Head Housekeeper though she knows it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Having to see Benedict so soon after his confession had sent her mind into overdrive; her stomach tying itself into knots – she could only hope that the gentleman wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t humiliate her in front of his whole family.

Mrs. Thorpe touches (Y/N)’s shoulder, asking her softly, “Is everything okay, dear?”

(Y/N) nods, trying her best not to let her emotions show on her face. She had been blindsided by Benedict and his confession; didn’t ever expect such words to leave his mouth… well, expected them but never thought they would be directed at her.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Thorpe,” She smiles and whilst the Head Housekeep returns the smile, she does not believe the one on (Y/N)’s face for a moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay to help out in the dining room? Jenkins can always find someone else.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, knowing the butler better than she knows herself. “He would cause such a panic. No, it’s better I do it myself.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” She pats Mrs. Thorpe’s hand. “I am sure.”

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It takes everything she has to stop her hands from shaking as she enters the dining room with her tray of food. Following Jenkins’ lead, (Y/N) holds her head high as she serves the Bridgertons, beginning with Anthony and then making her way from his right.

Benedict all but freezes in his spot when (Y/N) finally comes to serve from his left shoulder. He turns in his chair to find her staring down at him; a serving plate in her hand, the tongs pointed in his direction. Their fingers brush as Benedict reaches for the utensil sending a zap of static electricity up (Y/N)’s arm. She sucks in a breathe, desperate to keep the connection between them yet she is the one who straightens, who schools her face into a mask of polite interest.

“Thank you,” Benedict whispers, still unable to take his eyes off her.

“You’re welcome,” She replies, swiftly moving onto Gregory who sits patiently by Benedict’s side.

Jenkins who had noticed the exchange between Benedict and (Y/N) clears his throat, gaining the attention of the family waiting to start their meal. “I am terribly sorry for the informality. William took ill at the last moment and (Y/N) graciously offered to fill his shoes.”

Anthony Bridgerton smiles at (Y/N). “Thank you, (Y/N), for stepping in so quickly,” He states before turning his attention to Jenkins, “Has a tray been organised for William? Do you need us to contact the doctor?”

Jenkins watches the young Viscount with warm eyes; having known the Viscount since he was a babe in arms, it has been his pride and joy to watch him grow to the man he is today. “(Y/N) has offered to take a tray to William as soon as she is finished here. As for the doctor, my Lord, it seems only to be a head cold.”

“Let us know if anything changes, please.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

As food is served and wine is poured, happy and warm conversation flows through the Bridgerton family. Laughter is the most often heard sound in the Bridgerton home; it punctuates the air whether the chuckle and giggle comes from a member of the family or a member of staff.

Tonight is no different, it seems, as Hyacinth snorts midway through her laughter at Gregory’s latest antics. Visiting home for the weekend from Eton, Gregory was on hand to entertain his brothers and scandalise his dear mother with stories of his school life.

“I do hope you are paying attention in your lessons,” Violet admonishes her youngest son though there is nothing but maternal love in her voice.

Gregory smiles widely, holding a hand over his heart as he promises, “I do nothing less.”

His words receive an amused snort from all three brothers and a roll of eyes from his mother. (Y/N) turns her face away from the loving scene to keep the smile on her face from growing. This; this is what she years for – family, love, laughter and warmth. No matter how Benedict phrases his feelings, and no matter how she may feel for the Bridgerton, a relationship that harbours the four things (Y/N) holds dear would be impossible due to her station. A sad fact, but a universally accepted truth.

The topic of conversation once again shifts; this time focusing on the latest branch in literature. A novel had been published that had managed to scandalise not only the religious community, but also the scientific one. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was, to (Y/N), two things. Not only was it a book that promised the reader to be horrified, but it was written by a woman. Shelley was not the first female author, and she would not be the last but this latest venture into a new genre of literature inspired pride within (Y/N). With the growing availability of books through libraries, (Y/N) felt it was only time before something big happened in the fight for rights for women.

Though she kept those thoughts readily to herself.

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Benedict asks, blue eyes sparkling over the rim his wine glass as every member of his family turns to look at her.

Eyes wide with shock, she glances over to Jenkins. He nods but he doesn’t look pleased at her having been called on by the employer. Taking a step forward, she curtsies slightly before answering, “I couldn’t possibly say, Mr. Bridgerton, sir. I haven’t read the book.”

“Come now, (Y/N),” Benedict continues, his smile growing wider, “You must have an opinion.”

“Benedict,” Violet chastises, “Leave the poor girl alone. She’s only serving tonight as William has fallen ill. There is no need to badger her.”

Violet smiles at (Y/N) apologetically as she takes a step back to the wall, her hands held neatly in front of her. Conversation soon turns to another subject, another topic which gives (Y/N) the space to breathe; to slow her racing heart.

Benedict’s eyes continue to steal glances of her figure for the rest of the meal. It feels close to a brand; the heat of his gaze burns through whatever shield she has up to the point where she is certain Benedict has laid her bare for all to see. It’s all she can think of; his keen gaze and his words to her before the meal.

Trying her best not to fidget, (Y/N) keeps her eyes focused on the portrait of a Bridgerton ancestor hung on the wall across from her. She only rouses herself from her nerves to serve the courses of the meal. (Y/N) cannot help but thank any god or deity out there when the dessert course is brought up and the meal is soon brought to a close.

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It is easy to avoid someone when you ask for extra duties, (Y/N) thinks to herself as she carries a pile of dresses to be mended. The muslin is smooth against her skin as she lays the dresses out on the mending table before turning to find the sewing kit. Thankfully, for the dresses, there was not much to be done but mend a few holes that had torn near the hem. The danger of heels and quick walking women, (Y/N) humours.

It had been a week since the conversation with Benedict; his words constantly playing on her mind until she wakes in the middle of the night with them on her lips, as if she were reciting the conversation in her sleep.

Benedict had tried to gain her attention; he had made clear attempts at wanting to talk to her. However, she simply curtsied and went on her way. She didn’t know what to say to him; she couldn’t understand how he – the son of a Viscount, no less – had fallen in love with her.

It felt preposterous; it felt too good to be true. Yet as the oil lamps are dampened for the night and the other servants in the house have fallen asleep, (Y/N) lets herself dream of what it could be like to be loved by Benedict Bridgerton. She wonders about the curve of his mouth; what it feel like, whether he would smile into their kiss. She thinks of his hands; his long, artistic fingers and she briefly ponders whether he had ever drawn her, whether in his many sketchbooks there lies a portrait of her.

When she’s feeling a particular glutton for punishment, (Y/N) lets herself dream of a life with Benedict where class status didn’t matter. She thinks of what it would be like to wake up to him every morning; to feel the heaviness of his arm wrapped around her waist as he rises to consciousness with the sun. She yearns to know what it would feel like to be able to reach over and take his hand in hers, tangling their fingers together as if they had always meant to be intertwined.

The longing for him is what breaks her. It’s what causes the tears to roll down her face as she lets herself accept the fact that she is sure she has known for a long time. She lets herself accept that she had met the cliché of so many housemaids before her by falling in love with Benedict Bridgerton a long time ago, before he had even come to know her existence.

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The drawing room on the upper level of the house was where Violet Bridgerton spent most of her day. On occasion, her sons’ joined the family, but for the most part, it was her daughters that kept her company. Violet remains occupied by her stitching patterns; a garden of tulips for the birth of Anthony’s darling new baby, however, she keeps a weather eye on Eloise and Hyacinth – her only daughters to remain at home and unmarried.

“Eloise,” Violet murmurs, “Would you be a dear and ring for some tea. My throat is parched.”

Eloise pauses in her writing; so occupied these days, Violet thinks as her second eldest daughter rises to ring for the kitchen. “What are you working on?” Violet asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Eloise frowns, collecting the papers out of fear anyone should read them. “I’m writing to Penelope if you must know.”

“Writing? She lives just across the way, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you calling on her.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Eloise allows, “But there is nothing wrong with practicing my handwriting, is there mother?”

Violet smiles; a pained one that shows her exhaustion with her beloved daughter. “No, my dear. There is no harm in that.”

Eloise nods, smiling softly at her mother before returning to her letter. Violet watches her for a moment; the way her eyes read and reread the sentences written on the page – this was not a letter to Penelope; it was to a suitor. Violet knew full well, however, that Eloise would come to her when ready – she was not someone to be pushed into giving information.

Returning to her stitching, Violet finds that her attention is once more interrupted by the opening of the door. She sighs, placing the stitching down, curious as to whether she would get the piece done before the arrival of the sweet babe.

Turning to face the door, she is surprised to find her second-born, Benedict entering the room. His eyes, sad and his expression, solemn as he runs a hand again and again through his hair.

“Mother,” Benedict greets, leaning down to press a kiss to her ageing cheek. “May I speak with you about a private matter?”

Violet’s eyebrows furrow but she says nothing as she dismisses her daughters; each one complaining as they leave the room, closing the door behind them. At the click of the lock, Violet smiles warmly at her son – he was so different from Anthony and Colin, not the least interested in their games such as Pall Mall but would rather sit to the side with his sketchbook in hand. He had a boisterous streak; could play with the rest of them, but he had his moments where he fall into a tranquil state and produce artwork that could rival the greats.

Nerves tangling his stomach to pieces, Benedict begins to pace the room. His hands are hooked behind his back as he begins to pace backwards and forwards, trying to form sentences from the jumble of words in his mind. He knew, deep down, that whatever he should want to do with his life, his beloved mother would support him, but even Violet Bridgerton could not ignore the class lines so entrenched within society.

“Benedict, my dear, you’re beginning to make me dizzy. Stop pacing and tell me what’s wrong.”

Benedict pauses his pacing but does not sit down. Instead, he stands as still as a stone, hands gesturing wildly as he tries to form thoughts into sentences. Mouth opening and closing, he struggles of how to bring up the issue of love and marriage.

“You would never stand in the way of who we love, would you?” He finally asks, running a hand through his deep brown hair.

Violet frowns, “I would not considering they were within reason. Why? Have you fallen in love, Benedict?”

“I think… No. I know I have, but there’s a problem.”

“Are they a drunk?”

“No.”

“Do they gamble?”

“No.”

“Then whatever is the matter?”

“She’s a servant. A housemaid to be precise… in this house.”

Violet would be the first to admit that she is surprised by her son’s admission. Sighing, she pats the cushion next to her, urging her son to sit down. “Who?” she asks as Benedict falls into the seat beside her.

“(Y/N),” He admits, fiddling with the hem of his jacket.

She runs a hand through his hair, “Does she love you too?”

“I don’t know,” Benedict admits, “She ran off after I confessed.”

“Then I need to speak to her to find out once and for all,” Violet declares, smoothing out her skirts.

“Mother…” Benedict groans. Violet shakes her head, “Let me talk to her. I can reassure her in ways you cannot. I can tell her that I approve.”

“You approve?” He asks, shocked at the words leaving hid mother’s mouth. “I thought you would disapprove…”

“Because of her class? My dear boy, you have found your love match, that is all I wish for my children. Should (Y/N) feel the same then of course I approve. I would rather you be happy than miserable, my son.”

“Thank you, mother,” Benedict replies, kissing her cheek once again, “You’re truly the best there are.”

Violet blushes at her sons words, dismissing him with a wave of her fan. “Off with you, and ring for Jenkins before you go.”

Benedict bows before pulling the cord by the door. Leaving the room, Benedict cannot help the smile that crosses his face. He truly holds some hope that (Y/N) might feel the same as he does and if his mother should approve, then there should be no issue to their courting and their union.

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(Y/N) wrings her hands together on entire walk to Lady Violet’s drawing room. Having been summoned by the Lady herself, this could be either of two things. One: she was about to find herself suddenly unemployed for reasons she did not yet know. Or two: Lady Violet knows about the conversation with Benedict.

Neither reason made (Y/N) feel particularly confident as she is shown into the drawing room. Her heart remains in her throat even as Lady Violet smiles at her warmly; gesturing for her to sit down across from her and take some tea.

Adding one lump of sugar to her tea, Lady Violet bluntly asks, “Do you love my son, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) promptly drops her spoon into her tea causing it to splash on the table cover. “Oh!” She gasps, reaching for a napkin to clean up the mess as best she can, “I am so terribly sorry, Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet chuckles, “It’s no problem, (Y/N). Tea tends to wash out as I am sure you are well aware. I do not want to think of how many table cloths and dresses I have stained in my time… but I love the drink so many more stains are due to come.”

“My mother says that the world can be put to rights over a good cup of tea.”

“Your mother sounds very wise.”

“She is,” (Y/N) nods, smiling wistfully as she thinks of her mother with the fondness of a child. “I write to her nearly every day. She likes to hear about the city and what is happening. She feels as if the Bridgertons are her own family.”

Violet beams at that, “I am glad to hear it, (Y/N), but you have not answered my question.”

“I apologise, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Are you in love with Benedict?”

(Y/N) remains silent for a moment before beginning to nod her head. “I am. I know I am,” (Y/N) begins, “But…”

“But what?”

“I could bring nothing to the courtship and then nothing to the marriage. My family are not rich enough for me to have a dowry; I have no title or land; I barely know proper etiquette – I would offend everyone the moment I stepped through the door. On top of that, think of the social connections Benedict would lose – there would be families who would never speak to him again all because he had the rotten luck to fall in love with me.”

Violet’s blue eyes grow determined as she begins to list off: “You do not need a dowry; we have enough money as it is. There is no need for you to have a title or land, Benedict has his own homes. In terms of etiquette, you converse with me quite well, so I see no issue there. As for social connections, if people cannot see how happy you make my son then that is their issue, not yours and not Benedict’s.”

“What about the Viscount, Lady Bridgerton? Surely he has final say.”

A glimmer of something maternal shines in Violet’s eyes as she smiles. “Let me handle my eldest son. You have no reason to worry, (Y/N). Benedict loves you. I will not stand in the way of his happiness.”

“So you approve?” (Y/N) asks, forgetting herself for a brief moment before dipping her head in apology.

Violet dismisses her apology with a wave of her hand; after all, if things go to plan, she would be calling (Y/N) daughter in no time. “Do I approve of having to find another housemaid as talented as you? No, I do not. But do I approve of the lady that my son has given his heart to? Absolutely. To be entirely truthful, I would rather it be you than someone in society.”

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) says gratefully, feeling the all too familiar prick of tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Now go,” Violet smiles, the familiar sting of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “Go find my son and tell him how you feel.”

Standing from the chair, (Y/N) curtsies with a smile before rushing from the room. Her mind in a daze as to what has truly happened just now.

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(Y/N) finds Benedict in the library, sat awkwardly in one of the chairs with his sketchbook propped up in his lap. He’s focused entirely on the sketch at hand; his mouth set in a determined line as a finger delicately smudges part of his work.

For a single instant, (Y/N) watches Benedict in his element, finding that the butterflies in her stomach have turned from slumbering to a full blown riot at the mere sight of the man that had captured her heart. Still riding on the high from her conversation with Lady Bridgerton, (Y/N) steps further into the room. Benedict freezes in place at the sight of her stood by the stacks of books; her eyes are bright, and her skin flushed as she fiddles with the hem of her apron.

The painting flashes in his mind suddenly and his fingers twitch with the urge to turn the page of his sketchbook whilst simultaneously asking her to remain still so he can immortalise her on page. She’s perfect; she’s the perfect model and she doesn’t even realise it; Benedict thinks to himself.

“Spare me a moment?” She asks tentatively, as if worried of his reaction.

“All my moments are for you,” Benedict whispers honestly setting her heart racing in her chest. He stands from the chair, long legs coming out from under him as he leaves his sketchbook behind.

“All mine are for you too, if you’ll still have me…”

“What?”

“I love you too,” She confesses, voice small as she fiddles with her fingers, eyes cast on them – too scared to meet his gaze.

A finger under her chin has her meeting his deep blue eyes. Eyes that are alight with the happiness that surges through his veins; that highlight just how his heart sings at hearing those magical words leave her mouth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” (Y/N) begins to ramble, “There is so much that is standing in the way for us, and I know you do not care or at least, I think you do not care but I cannot help but worry that if we were to happen, one day you would wake up and regret every moment of it. I am not from the same class as you, Benedict, I do not want to ruin you.”

A smile breaks across his face despite the stark desperation of her words. She furrows her eyebrows, half in curiosity, half in concealed frustration. “What are you smiling at?” She demands.

His hands move to cradle her face; thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as he chuckles, “You called me ‘Benedict’.”

Thinking over her words, she smiles despite herself. “I suppose I did.”

“As for your worries: I do not think there will be one day in my future that I will not wake up and be grateful. However, that will only happen if you are in it – if I am waking up to you every morning. Darling, I do not think you can ruin me. I think you will be the making of me.”

“Do you promise? Not to regret me?” She whispers, a note of vulnerability in her voice.

“I promise,” He vows, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then to her nose and cheeks. Then as he hovers above her lips, he whispers, “With every moment you spare me, I could never regret falling in love with you.”

******

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lurking96 · 3 years

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Hi, what is your view about Ochako in the Omake and LNs. I read these omake chapter which happens after the final exams and Light novels and Ochako's character seems OOC and its kinda irritating. in the Omake Ochako confronts Bakugou regarding how he treated and still treats Izuku. I do like the fact she called out Bakugou's BS and correctly deduced his jealousy of Deku's growth and Deku's heroic personality but when she was talking to Bakugou there doesn't seem to be any sign of bitterness or anger from her towards him for the way he always treated and still treats Izuku. its like way too casual. I'm not saying she has to stoop to his level by name calling or yelling or even acting imatured like Bakugou but showing a bit of anger, bitterness and having stern talk would be better considering all the shit he does to Izuku. Like any person would show some sort of bitterness and anger when someone berates, insults and disrepects his/her friends

Also during their conversation she glorifies bakugou by saying how awesome he was in their fight which i feel is uneeded in the omake. why even glorify him in this?. what was so awesome about him? None of what the narrative potrayed about Bakugou, matches or makes sense considering his actions, his attitude, behavior and his choice of words before, during and even after the fight. He only gave a begrudging acknowledgement of her strength and capabilities after he spoke to Izuku. I just feel this praise, blind admiration and respect she has for him is unneccessary considering she always sees how Bakugou treats her crush and best friend like a trash.

In Light novels she talks about how Bakugou wouldn't be Bakugou if he wasn't badmouthing and wasn't being a prick. In another LN she says she wants to be Bakugou for a day because of his quirk and because of his crazy side all because of the beating she got from him in the sports festival. This level of admiration seems inway done to justify his horrible personality and behavior which is not something to respect or admire. Also while saying that she wants to be Bakugou for a day she also blushes when the other girls asks her? like why? wasn't she crushing on Midoriya.?

I don't know if these omakes and LNs are canon but still the way she is written in these kinda irritates me because She is one of Izuku's first real friend along with Iida as well as one of his best friends along with Shoto and Iida.

As far as I am aware Hori does do art for the LN so he at least read over them and gave his okay. It depends on what you see as canon. You could see it as canon+. As an extended universe of sorts. It doesnt do much to the main canon which is the manga. I also should say that I am not that well versed in the light novels. But here is the thing. Hori tends to use other characters as mouthpiece to exclaim how great Bakugou is. See Aizawa at the sports festival and after he gets kidnapped. If it deals with claiming how great Bakugou is characters simply turn ooc. Uraraka has a right to call Bakugou out as he repeatedly has hurt her friend. And I doubt she has a crush on Bakugou. Just the manga material doesnt point in that direction. It seems to be another attempt to use a character as mouthpiece to go for "tell don't show"

#anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo

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jungxk · 3 years

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// rant

i'm jus so heartbroken rn i've been crying for the past hour i jus need to put my feelings out there, i hope it's ok w you.

my mum wakes up today and jus starts berating me bc i didnt put washed dishes into the cabinets & the kitchen looked messy for her. i'm supposed to do it bc there's nothing else i actually do but yesterday i had woken up in the evening nd they called me to pray straight away so i totally forgot about it (coupled w the fact that i dont like doing it either cuz there's always sm dishes nd it's such a hassle). she jus started scolding me senseless nd im someone who doesnt get mad easily, even if i do i tend to stay quiet bc i dont like conflict & angry emotions are ugly. but i couldnt stop it today? she kept calling me selfish nd she's been calling me that the past few days as well bc i never help out w chores or anything. she's always asking me "what do u do for this family" or "what do u do in this house" every single time nd ofc i cant say shit bc i dont. i'm doing uni online nd it's really not that easy but bc i dont talk to my family like at all, they think i'm all good. the other day i pissed them off nd my parents straight up said "why do we need to pay for ur uni ure not doing anything anyway" & i jus... i didnt even know if i even deserve to feel sad over it. they were asking me what i wanna do after uni as if im not just in my first year & when i said im not sure they got so mad and my mum purposely said "just marry her off" to push my buttons into giving them an answer. they keep saying i'm pushing them into being the worst and saying the worst to me but how is that fair? they're parents? adults? i'm jus 20 & i can control my emotions? but today really jus pushed me she got so mad at me for the littlest things nd i jus exploded. I asked her why she's mad and she's like cuz of the kitchen bla bla bla nd it got so frustrating i told her it's not my problem nd i jus wont ever eat again since all the unwashed dishes piling is my fault. nd then she got mad at me for that and scolded me. I hate being touched but mostly i hate being hit. imagine getting hit at 20 years old bc my mother is too emotionally unstable that she cant take a few seconds by herself to calm her anger down. I hate it. nd bc i said it's not my problem she came nd told me "yea it won't be ur problem when i die too! i'll make sure when i do, u never come see me." jus... what kind of parent says that? i'm so careful w what i say & i slip sometimes bc i'm human but how can a mother say that? she doesnt know anything about me. she doesn't know i dont like being hit, she doesnt know i dont like it when ppl act impulsively on emotions. sometimes i feel like i really am the problem nd that i'm really selfish. spending shit ton of money to get me to study, maybe i am selfish. i dont mind it. i know myself well enough to hate things about myself. but to have parents who barely know me as a person rather than a daughter, getting this much mad at me for smthn so simple jus makes me so sad. bc i was doing the task when she asked. she does things like this then wonders why i cant ever talk to her. entire family thinks i'm immature bc i behave exactly how they treat me. 20 years. I never ask for much. but it's starting to feel like asking to study in the uk was my greatest downfall. it feels like i dont deserve this. every day i'm itching to get away, to live alone bc they've made me feel like i can never work well in groups. it's always somehow my fault as if they havent been invalidating me nd my feelings since birth.

nd i can never tell them all these bc i'm never confident in them. i'm never confident in whether i would be accepted nd comforted without ridicule or scolding. my brother & father tell me it's like that, that jus bc i may get a scolding shouldn't stop me from being open. but what kind of stupidity is that? my mother who makes me feel like the world is ending when i accidentally break smthn, that it wasn't an accident but rather it's me nd that i jus cant do a good job— where is the comfort i can ever find coming to her w a problem?

nd bc of that we're not close. bc of that she's closer to my cousins & everyone else really. they've never concerned themselves to talking about family issues w me but when i dont know, they shame me, saying i never bother to ask— how would i know when to ask? should they be telling me when there's smthn going on?

this makes the concept of family so repelling for me. there is inherently no reason to ever have a child that isnt selfish or self fulfilling. what they do as parents is to make them feel as important nd respected as they expect from the child. but it's never like that w south asians. emotions dont exist if ure the child nd apparently getting mad is a norm nd shouldn't stop u from being emotional w someone.

at times i tell myself that i should pay back every penny my parents spent on me. bc sometimes it feels like it's being used to make me act or feel a certain way. i dont wanna feel this way. theyre my parents, i know theyre good people. but i'm so hurt by the things going on nd the things from the past. my mother invalidates me sm. she more or less kinda blamed me for feeling useless and depressed last year. my brother was telling her to go easy on me nd she got so mad & frustrated bc she didnt know what she was doing wrong. "if she feels so useless why doesnt she do anything about it?" like that was such a golden chance for her to have comforted me nd i couldve opened up? but she ruined it nd hurt me again.

last year i lived w her alone nd my dad was in our home country. I was having some troubles w him gone but i dont call or text bc... it always felt like a drag. it never felt like a conversation nd the only time it did was when i complained to him about my mum. so much shit happened between my mum and i & this person advised me to jus write some of my feelings to her. so i wrote her a long letter nd i included saying how not having my dad was hard on me too. flash forward im in my home country & w my dad. i know nobody here bc i didnt grow up here. i'm doing online uni & basically have to stay indoors cuz of covid. she brings that letter up when she was to berate me nd it jus feels so uncomfortable for me? like ok my actions dont line up but i wrote that cuz i was looking for comfort nd understanding. if i knew it was going to be held against me, i would not have done it? "u said it was so hard for u without him, so what do u even do for him here now?"— what can i do? i'm just 20 nd the situation im in is not normal? i'm grateful to be w my dad again but what can i do? &it always freaking comes down to house chores. i try my best. when our maid doesnt come i do my best w my tasks. i know it's not enough but i jus... i dont even know. ig that part of me is selfish nd lazy.

it's so suffocating here. all my feelings are bottled up nd im so scared what that would do to me in the future. but at least i know i'm too selfish to ever spend the rest of my life w someone.

sorry for the long rant. i hope this didnt ruin ur mood or anything i jus need an outlet nd ur blog jus feels so comforting nd welcoming. thank u for listening to me nd my feelings. God bless u really kssjdjsj

i’m rlly sorry this is happening to you bby. idk what race u are but this sounds so much like that asian mentality where emotions are black and white and comfort in any way is out of the question. ur still rlly young tho so ur relationship with ur parents has room to improve i promise. i think it’s rlly important for u to move out whenever u can tho bc that’s what rlly improves the relationship. having said this i do think the way your mum talks to u/treats u is emotionally and mentally abusive so whether you want to uphold that tie with her in the future is ur choice i just rlly hope u get somewhere safe and away from ur family soon x

#answered

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bountifulwitcharchive · 6 years

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I thought I would talk about stuff in my life a bit, especially considering I keep getting rattled by anxieties and taken a back by feeling as if I am hurting or harming someone.

As an adult I take it as my responsibility to make sure my actions are concise, I feel this is how any adult should ultimately be. Whether or not who I am as surefire as I am, hurts someone by accident. Whether it is that my opinion makes someone upset ; I want them to know I am not changing who I am yes. But that I do still care about them. If I fail to do this, then i feel as a person I have failed. Whether this is because of trauma in the past, or stuff that people from online communities made me feel. It does not matter, ultimately this is where I am at in my life.

My in real life is hard. I dont talk about it because I have, and the end result is always the same. This contorted feeling from others who dont know how to answer and feel uncomfortable themeslves. Knowing they cannot do anything, and my own discomfort that they cannot relate. Cannot understand. Cannot know what it means like -- I often hear ‘ Is it better today? ‘ Rather then, ‘ Are things stable today? ‘ I hate that people often feel my household is a place where things can be healed or feel better, that is not the case. My household works on whether things are stabled and held together vs Anyone having gotten BETTER. The job I am getting into now deals with this , and a reason why I applied for it was because I understand. I understand so much what this means and how people who do not have members of family who are disabled like this, dont understand. Every day is a struggle. It is a challenge, but it is so normal what I understand and come home to. However, simply because I am use to it and accept it does not make the stress of it any less then how heavy it is in my heart. Because ontop of my sister being disabled and us lucky that she is communicative. My mothers health is getting worse; in terms of worse she is getting old. And her poor choice of eating. Her inability to take care of herself and having to take care of another adult for themself--mind you for the rest of their lives. Takes a toll on her. And then my brother is getting worse, hes a smart boy where doctors are realizing he too is disabled. However, imagine being told you are disabled at 13 but consciously aware of what that means ( my sister ) and afraid of what you will become. Without going into details; if anyone in this household would kill themsleves it would be him. So ontop of hiding knives from my sister. We have to hide anything ( the surplus AND VARIETY of medicines my sister is on ) away from him. While also avoiding serious conversations of our home structure struggling as to not spike his anxieties. He will self harm like crazy. And its hard watching your little brother slam his head against the wall because he is overwhelmed by the world he was born into. I have many siblings, but my sister steph who is the only other person who lives with us does nothing for herself. I am sure she has issues her self but does not speak of it. And instead sits at home. Falling more and more into imo a depression that my mother just calls and berates her for being lazy for. I keep trying to push her to branch out but I can tell how this life effects her individually and that there is something there she doesnt wanna talk about. And I cannot reach in there to help. For my other side of the family, Where my stepmother who i discovered the other day doesnt realize or remember or care to understand that the reason i fell into depression at 18 was because of what she did . And now I have to compress my memories and ask myself if my abuse was real -- or is this another one of those ‘ Manipulators conviently forgetting to forget the abuse they did in the past to cling onto the future they have now. ‘ By all means fine, she is a mother and needs to focus on that, but for me. Who endures. And endures. Staring at someone who did nothing but break me into who I am today, and hear that she forgot. Or doesnt understand. Or doesnt know. Like to her the past was nothing, did hurt. But forgive we do because what else will you do in points in time --- people online think your own feelings are so valid that you need ruin the world around you to make it worse. But no. Sometimes. You need to accept things for what they are, and think that me in a situation where I cannot change things. Or amend if the issue is brought to light -- to focus on what I can. For my sisters. So I can see them. And for myself. So maybe one day in the future, that conversation can come to light. But for now, we deal with what life gives us and we move on.

That is why that job was too much for me? Nothing had order .everything was a mess. Nothing was put together well and often people blammed the lowly coworkers for the faults in the system if it meant they did not have to get introuble. Then we look as if we do not know what we are doing and exhaustion has hold of it. The system in place reminded me too much of abusive circumstances. I did not have a voice. My back was always in pain. My feet was always aching -- none of this mattered to them and none of anyones complaints ever reached them. They valued their own problems over everyone elses around them, and I understand everyone is dealing with so much but seeing management value their own complaints over others was horrible. Considering Iwent into this with such a promise. With so much of who I was feeling like the brightest light about to conquer something new--the last of my hope in life. Thinking I was gunna change my life .Change my world. Offer my family something better. Something knew. Only to find out the truth of that all; that the Manager coaxed the employees there who I was . Was to be horrible. To tell her what all the coworkers were doing. So she could write them all up and -- so with that purpose and picture in mind to them. They rallied together to put me on probation and everything that I was broken to tears, realizing that--trying hard to tell myself I mattered more then what people made me out to be. Because when I salvaged my self to befriend them all -- to at least face them and figure out why they did that to me. That this was my job life for a year and a half. Lmao? And did that I did, and learned so much about what went on I had... And overwhelmed by this picture of how they lived and treated each other. I wanted to leave. And left I did, but into a situation that was just far worse. Never in all the years of retail I have worked have I ever endured such hell like I had with these customers. And some of it I dont blame them, the store really made them feel this way especially when nothing was right. Nothing as good. And nothing worked. Regardless the complaints I had of this I was stressed and nothing I did and nothing I got from this job gave back to me. None of it but stress and being exhuasted and finding myself stripped of who I am. ANd I tried with my quiet feelings about myself, to say things. I would say “ No I am miserable. “ And say it so flatly and awkwardly to make a point, but everyone always made a joke about it despite how flat I would remain. And then compare, “Well at least you arent management.” Nothing I said got through to them, and I tried. I promise. I tried with attempts despite how hard it is for someone like me to open up.

So yes I left and the job I have now is not something that is easy, Nor do I expect that my stress to be any less. Rather that it pays more and I am with endurance to try something new that might offer me better future opportunities and worse comes to worse -- I find a new job.

Even as this all went on I made sure my life here was as easy for me to come to as it was. Imagine. Imagine.

Just imagine.

If I was truly enduring all of this . What about everyone else? I looked at everyone like this, I looked at what I went through day by day and thought -- What if they have it worse. If I have no heart and mind to talk about what really goes on in length in my irl day by day... What if someone else is just the same? It is not for me to ask. it is not for them to say.

I geniuely wanted to be at peace with everyone online, and if something went on that was so bad by their action. I truly believed; well you cant be as bad as my Step Mother or physically bad as my sister who I deal with day by day. That is to say, I have no interest in detailing my past.

Im pretty sure its obvious my past does paint my anxieties and issues with how I deal with things. Approach people day by day.

And its important for you to know that, to know that I am like you or anyone else. My desire to be positive and happy is to allow for you and everyone else to feel and be surrounded by positivity in life.

Life is really hard.

Hell, right now I am still going through more impersonal feelings while trying to dance my around all this going on. Because even as im nearing 27 -- almost 30 years old. I still realize things about myself, and it will hit me hard. The most recent and most eye opening realization that still rattles me and probably is the reason why. I feel flippant in my anxiety ; is realizing I gave 5 years to my life to someone who did not exist. This person went by the name Logan and roleplayed Snow from FF13. I realized ; I spent 5 years of my life giving myself to this person. This person who did not exist and catfished everyone around me. Including me. Making people believe I was obsessed with him. Making people believe that he didnt treat me as if the private things shared between us were most intimate. That I spent 5 years waiting for him. Giving myself to him. Being patient for him. Enduring anything he said and taking my feelings so that I revitalized the things I did. Said. And would approach and appreciate him more understandingly. So he didnt hurt me, or ignore me--that he took so much from me. Money. Drawings. My writing. So much of my attention and love. He took 5 years away from me that I could have given someone I actually was so in love with and still am. That acted mildly the same -- but actually had stuff going on-- I am and was so in love with that person. And All I could give him was consciously a year until everything that I felt with Logan came crashing down in remembrance. That I didnt even realize why I was really overwhelmed by it all until some how talking to a close friend of mine about everything really. Really hit me hard.

5 years.

I think.

5 years was stolen of me. 5 years of love. 5 years of who i was. 5 years of dedication. Of loyalty. Of patience. Of endurance.

I could have been a different and confident person who really believed in love and not riddled with anxieties that made me remember everything I put effort into didnt matter -- because this one person would make sure of reminding me what my actions would fall under.

Life is really hard, and day by day I still learn things about myself.

And I just think, if you are still reading this. That you too are going through this. And that someone you know is going through this. And that we are all going through so much of this or more. And I just hope you are alright and that you are hanging on there because I want you to know that I am trying to. Very hard. To live and I dont want you to give up either so please hang in there with me.

That is why when the group of people who often harass my community when they do not like someone.

Yes the same group every time.

Had finally had me in their sights its was overwhelming, I had thought wow -- this is what you ultimately came to understand from me? When I had tried hard to reach out to you. To be your friend. To consciously find a place where we can be together as people comfortable -- but no thats not the point I want to make.

It rattled me that it took people who knew nothing about me, to change the course of my environment just like that. I lost the hand full of people from that community I talked too . A friend I had been friends with since I was 17 . Simply because they were scared of being caught in that fire too. It was less about who I was, and more about them losing the safe haven they had. The fun group and comfort they had-- they did not want to lose that.

And I understand that. Im not mad at that, just concerned. Sad. And reeling in the fact that people can ultimately take things from each other with misplaced context. And the unfortunate circumstance that people will opt for this, instead of talking to one another.

So I am tired yes.

Because that happened, that whole thing happened while I as dealing with so much. And I had no answer for it. And that me talking about this is to tell you how effected I am by my life right now. And that it indeed upsurged my anxieties more uncomfortably so and not that that is bad or good. It merely is what it is.

And that as I am now, I am sorry. I am sorry and grievanced because I went backwards and am not as timely with things as I use to. I have been struggling to sleep, and when I wake up feel a sort of touched exhaustion that makes me feel like not getting out of bed.

I am sorry since I cannot roleplay things most often for others that I would love to explore. That my interests as of late have been : what would make me laugh to roleplay. What would make me feel wholesome to roleplay. What can i say to talk to others? What can I do to connect with others?

My mind and interests as of late is more about; making myself feel better and coping through what means I can through roleplay or just talking rather then. Having fun with my hobby like I had been the past few months.

This is why alike on Gawain, my compliant is coming online and constantly seeing him hash’d negatively. In truth I deal with negative things on a day to day basis... I did not want to have it follow me online. If I post about it, then clearly I have left myself open for those things.. But often I dont and am trying to mind my business and roleplay leisurely when things erupt.

I am really sorry, because ultimately, I failed as a friend and as a fellow roleplayer. My talking about it is to correlate the truth but also to let people know how I am as a person. Even still.

I feel sometimes people think you know, ‘ Oh hey Sheep just excuses things. ‘ Rather its just Im a different kind of person from a harsh road of life and I see things a lot differently.

For this I will explain with a more literal example,

Things that many people feel uncomfortable online. I myself cannot-- it is that merely I cannot. If someone is talking about something regarding their character that they were abused sexually and want to explore the meaning of this through roleplay. I do not find this insulting, I find myself glad. If people can find out what it means to have been sexually assaulted, maybe they can also connect with me too? And understand why its hard for me to expose my body ( or how overly okay I am to do so ) or how feeling /sexy/ can be a hard feeling for me to overcome. I often see people mistaking things or not handling it correctly, but I want it to be done rather then ignored. Or treated like it doesnt happen. For an adult, this is how I separate my reality from fiction. But find a connection from my reality into something fictious. Further, as an adult I want to help people understand that difference. It is very bad to feel gratified and pleased by subjects that are distasteful. But seeing it treated as if it cannot be spoken of discomforts me. This is a public place, but it is also a place where you control the content on your blog. By the end of the day, I will pick the things that will make me feel uncomfortable or wont make me uncomfortable.

With such a short example, I dont know if anyone read this far. I had hoped. And hope. These feelings can help others or really understand where I am with my life right now and how stressed out I really am. I cannot talk individually with people because I actually choke up. I have ADHD and often forget if I dont take it slow. And can get overstimulated by the fact that someone is merely listening/paying attention to me. I am quiet about myself because I dont like wide attention.

But that.

The past weeks I have had such support in my life.

And I am trying not to cry thinking about it, but I have such a healthy circle of friends and I would do anything to see it through that it lasts for years to come. Me speaking like this is because of this. Because of the comfort. Because of my desire to reach out and branch out comfortably. To remind ppl of my life, and to apologize for where I am not most prominent and may suck at show casing things for.

I probably will make a more positive post in the future about how everyone has helped me through so much -- like I am just a cup that is spilling about and everyone is trying hard to keep whatever is coming out from falling on the floor--s uch a silly analogy but really.

I am so thankful as much as I am apologetic.

Thank you guys for giving me a home where I most need it. It is why I want to be open and communicative. I want the place I come home to, that I enjoy and need to cope through things going on. To remain okay, to be alright, and that positive energy can still be shared.

And that I want to with all my heart, continue giving that positive energy to anyone around me the best that I can. With you understanding me as a person.

Thank you, if you have read this far. For taking the time to get to know me.

#.´ · ⋆ ❛ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᶫᵒᶰᵍ ᵈʳᶦᶰᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜʳʸˢ ⥃ 🇴🇴🇨 ｡#tag: vent #I hope that ultimately people #see what I say -- and understand .#But also #that my feelings can be used as a platform in one way or another.#And that people know you are not alone and that I am also going through so much.

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artistic-writer · 7 years

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nosy not so anon

@kmomof4 said she wants all of these...and not anon....she is such a rebel ;)

nosy anons let's go

0: Height: I am 5′10/178cm

1: Age: I am 31

2: Shoe size: UK 9/US 10/ EU 44

3: Do you smoke? Nope never have, never will

4: Do you drink? Yes, mostly Guiness, Ales and Gin <3

5: Do you take drugs? Nope, never have, never will.

6: Age you get mistaken for: Early twenties is most people’s guess. I often get mistaken for my husband’s daughter lol

7: Have tattoos? yes! I LOVE tattoos. I have eight so far :)

8: Want any tattoos? YES always. I am currently planning a few Star Wars ones but i just don’t know where to put them. I have an issues with not being able to see my tattoos, so i only get them on my arms and legs where i can see them.

9: Got any piercings? My parents pierced my ears when i was 9 months old, but i don’t really wear earrings. I had my eyebrow pierced when i was about 14 and it got ripped out in a hockey match and then i had a scaffold that my body rejected. Generally, piercing make my skin itch so i prefer tattoos.

10: Want any piercings? Nope.

11: Best friend? My husband <3

12: Relationship status: Married <3

13: Biggest turn ons: Is this a bedroom question? lol I will go generally in a partner - beards and bellies <3

14: Biggest turn offs: People who spend more time looking at their phones than their partners, people who spend an obscene amount of time and money to “look good” - you are all beautiful exactly how you were created! Let your natural light shine :)

15: Favorite movie: For as long as I can recall, my favourite movie has been Jurassic Park but i have soooo many!

16: I’ll love you if...you are kind to animals and other people, regardless of how they treat you. If you can keep your cool when someone is berating you, you are a bigger person than they will ever be.

17: Someone you miss: I used to have a customer at work who was retired but younger than her husband and so he still worked. Every day she would come into the coffee shopat 11am and i would sit and have my lunch with her. She used to tell me all about her days when her husband was in the army, how they met when she was 17 and fell in love back in Ireland, how they lived in Germany and her hobbies. We discovered she lived really close to me, so my husband and I used to go visit her sometimes, and we took her to Ikea and few times because she couldn’t drive. She wasn’t feeling well for a while and when she went to the doctors she was told she had cancer, end stage, 3 months to live. It was all a blur, and happened so fast I couldn’t process all the information i was given about what was happening to my friend. One day i went into work, after having a week off, and a mutual friend/customer was crying and I asked why and she just said “Ruth died.” It hit me like a ton of bricks and i had to go out back to cry in the alley way with my colleague. We all got special permission to have the day off for her funeral and her family consider us as more than just baristas - we knew her for over five years, saw her every day and we were her friends. I miss her every day at 11am when she doesn’t walk through the door anymore.

18: Most traumatic experience: oh my god. Because I am most wise, I grew 4 wisdom teeth, but one was causing me a toothache. I hadn’t been to a dentist for 15 years (coward lol) and so i walked around with a toothache for over 10 months. Then it got so bad, I HAD to go, and after some xrays I needed it surgically removed at the hospital. Further scans showed the root was touching a nerve in my face, and despite maxing me out with numbing agent, I could feel everything. So, like something out of a horror movie, I had a wisdom tooth surgically removed whilst laying back in a chair in a dimly lit hospital room and felt every single thing. They put my husband in the next room and turned up the radio so he couldnt hear me crying. The dentist also punched a hole in another tooth, but I’ll be dead before I go to another dentist lol

19: A fact about your personality: I have a very dry wit and sense of humour in RL, but i tone it down online because I can be offensive lol

20: What I hate most about myself: Physcially, my neck. Its so long and gross. Other than that, i hate the way my anxiety can rule my life sometimes :(

21: What I love most about myself: I have a great ass ;)

22: What I want to be when I get older: I just want to be as happy as I am now :)

23: My relationship with my sibling(s): I have a better relationship with my brothers than my sister, but we are all adults so live apart now and don’t see each other much. I am not really fussed about this fact as i have always been the outcast in my family lol Strange fact: I am on the autistic spectrum and have an issue with being touched, but there is absolutely NOBODY who makes my skin burn like my sister. Bless her heart, she has done nothing, but I only hug her once a year, at Christmas.

24: My relationship with my parent(s): My parents divorced when i was 7 and so i haven't spoken to my dad since then and i drifted apart from my mum. Eventually, i moved in with my grandparents when i was 9 and they raised me

25: My idea of a perfect date: Steak and blowjobs! ;)

26: My biggest pet peeves: people who disrespect the elderly makes my blood boil.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like: Well, my husband is a bearded man with a belly and glorious chest hair :p

28: A description of the person I dislike the most: I don’t really dislike many people - i try to see the good in everyone and treat others how i would want to be treated, regardless of how they engage with me.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend: Umm...I can’t lie lol. And I don’t have many friends lol

30: What I hate the most about work/school: The hours. I work from 6:15-6:30 every day which means, including travel, my day lasts from 5am-7:30pm. When you only sleep 4-5 hours a night, that doesnt leave much room for anything else

31: What my last text message says: received: “Dog sitter needed 28th of this month...any chance?” sent: “How wide is your hotdog hallway now?” (lol my sister had a baby last night!)

32: What words upset me the most: I was previously in an abusive relationship (emotional and physical) and some of the things he said to me to manipulate my anxiety still make me question what i ever saw in him to this day, or why i didn’t notice what he was doing.

33: What words make me feel the best about myself: Until i met my husband, nobody had ever told me i was pretty. and now he tells me all the time. We have also never gone to bed without saying ‘i love you’ in over a decade <3

34: What I find attractive in women: Legs. omg legs. I am a leg person lol.

35: What I find attractive in men: Beards and bellies ;) And I have a thing for ears...

36: Where I would like to live: Somewhere remote, where no one can find me lol

37: One of my insecurities: (editing this in! Thanks @rouhn ) Probably that my husband will find someone he likes more than me :(

38: My childhood career choice: I always wanted to be a vet, and then i had to have my first pet put to sleep and my vet cried with me, and I realized that i couldn’t do that to other people.

39: My favorite ice cream flavor: Mint choc chip. I will fight you.

40: Who I wish I could be: I don’t want to be anyone else ;)

41: Where I want to be right now: Nowhere else but at home, with a cup of tea and writing.

42: The last thing I ate: Crumpets for breakfast <3

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately: my husband...because, well. he is to me.

44: A random fact about anything: I have something called Chromesthesia, which is a type of Synesthesia so you can ask me about that if you like :D

#nosy anon #salem says

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