RPDR Preferences: UK Edition

Preface

So since the world feckin broke, so did I (see my numerous breakdowns on my message board), and I decided to go home. Well, in spirit, anyway. By the time you are reading this, I'm gearing up to return across the pond, to be there in person in the teeny English uni town of Durham, up by the Scottish border. And if I don't get in there, then Edinburgh it is. The preference queens are already haunted by my presence- I am a menace to them and I can admit that- but at some point, I'm going to be at least an hour away from some of them by train. That's called dedication. And being done with the U.S system and using my dual citizenship and status as a first gen to my advantage. Speaking of, my father came here in the 90's- being a first generation American isn't a thing of the age of prohibition, mafias and the disembarking from steamboats, and of that, I am living proof. I've got much more of a connection to my homeland, as well as the queens born in it. I'm a brit with no accent- and trust me, it confused one of these queens when I met her- but when I had one, it was a bizzare mix of Huddersfield and standard received. I'm a subject of the crown with allegience to a president, even if I did kinda stop standing for the pledge when I was 10. My birth certificate has a big fuck off stamp of the crown in the middle and my consular record of birth abroad...is required for me to not get deported. I exist with one foot on both sides of the line. Arguably, I'm a walking identity crisis! Or I was. COVID, going no contact with the birthgiver and a fuckton of other things, as well as the way I was raised, have sort of pushed me more towards the side of the pond I crossed over from, if you know what I mean. I relate to the experiences of the UK queens a lot more than I would care to admit, despite having spent a grand total of three years in the UK. So, for the sake of honoring the representation I didn't know I needed, for the sake of honoring the paternal- and at this point only- side of my family, half of whom fought their way out of the coal mines of Staffordshire to where they are now, and for the sake of honoring that part of little Rose who just wanted to feel like she had a complete family, one who loved her, but only did when on her grandma's fugly couch in Lampeter, I present to you:

RPDR Preferences: UK Edition...
Or, the preface to it!

Ps,
If I cried writing this, no I didn't. Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. It didn't happen and anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

A letter to the bitches, bros and hoes:

Well lads, you made it!
In the admitedly chaotic (no thanks to your fuckin branch of the RPDR family tree- LOOKING AT YOU, TAYWHORA!) years I have been Drag Wattpad's Anglo-American-Jewish Disaster Lesbian™️, I've seen it all. And that's gotten me the reputation of someone who observes. What can I say? I have ADHD! My brain was gonna shove me down the rabbithole at some point. Why not do it of my own volition, and in the process, give Drag Wattpad some of the most...shall we say memorable x readers and preferences?

I took the reins, or at least was racing one of very few horses, of a ghost town section of Drag Wattpad in 2019. In many ways, you could argue I was one of the writers to change what it meant to title your story, "RPDR Preferences" or "[insert queen here] x Reader". That's really all my low self esteem will let me say on that subject, though, so moving swiftly onward!

As previously mentioned, I'm known as a bit of a nosy bitch- I mean...someone who is very observant, considering her clinically recognized non existent attention span. What I have observed has led me down some very interesting paths, and at some point, mine crossed yours. That point was October 2019 to be exact.