11toe11-blog

[fvaleraye]

one of the most annoying interactions in the world, to us, is when someone establishes an opinion, people disagree with it, and instead of ignoring or blocking the people who can't mind their own business, the original person decides to become the most annoying person ever to literally everyone else in the interaction. "have you ever-" no, but we have seen the interaction happen very publicly multiple times and it never gets any less annoying. like we don't know how to tell you that acknowledging every comment or argument, no matter how cordial or even shitty, with some shitty snark ass remark is not endearing or funny. it's not going to prove a point to anyone. do you not have better things to do.

[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

[violetwolfraven]

“Oh my gosh, Flynn! Don’t bother coming!”

Part 2 of that flarrie angst I wrote earlier. This should be fun.

Tw: abandonment, denial of feelings, a little internalized homophobia.

...

“Oh my gosh, Flynn! Don’t bother coming!”

Of course Carrie doesn’t want Flynn and Julie to come to her performance. Why would she? It’s not like they’re friends anymore. They’re not. They haven’t been for a while.

Carrie does not miss Flynn and Julie.

She doesn’t. She doesn’t need them. They were good friends while it lasted, sure, but that’s over and dead and it’s never coming back so Carrie isn’t stuck in the past missing them.

She’s got Dirty Candi now. And the others are talented, but not enough to be competition like Julie is, and they have a healthy fear of the girl who can kick them out of the band if she wants, so they don’t challenge her like Flynn does. They do what they’re told. Carrie doesn’t have to care about their opinions beyond making sure they know they can tell her if any choreography or costumes make them uncomfortable. Considering she’s had to alter a grand total of two dance moves since they got together, that’s not even that big of a concern.

It is not lonely, being a bubblegum pop princess ruling alone over her little kingdom by fear. It’s... different from how things were with Julie and Flynn, but it’s better. The other girls know that their talents lie mostly in dance and these days, that alone isn’t enough to get them the fame they want so badly. They need Carrie to get any real fame. Hopefully, that means they can’t just leave at the drop of a hat.

Sure, maybe Kayla never used to look at her with that caution before their dance class became their band, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s probably better, because if she’s afraid of Carrie, she can’t hurt her.

None of them can. No one can.

Carrie’s finally as invincible as she always wished she was and she is not lonely.

She doesn’t miss having Julie to bounce music ideas off of and Flynn to...

Flynn. Talking about everything from things that don’t actually matter to things that really, really do. Watching Pirates of the Caribbean and chugging soda to stay awake and braiding each other’s hair.

Flynn, who is as sarcastic as she is compassionate, level-headed as they are ready to throw hands with anyone who hurts one of her friends. Fiercely protective yet would probably sell you to Satan for one corn chip.

Carrie can still remember the process to help when there’s something bothering them. Turn on her favorite movie trilogy, mess around with her hair a bit, talk about nothing important until they’re ready to talk about whatever is important. Give Flynn her full attention, making sure they feel seen and her feelings are validated. Carrie got it down to a science years ago, and it always felt nice to help when they were upset. It made this warm feeling flush through her chest, seeing that lovely smile of hers creep out, and...

And okay, maybe Carrie can’t watch Pirates of the Caribbean anymore because it feels wrong to watch it without them, but that doesn’t mean anything! It doesn’t mean she misses her!

Carrie doesn’t miss people. Missing someone doesn’t bring them back, so why bother? And besides, Flynn and Julie are hardly the first people to leave her behind.

Honestly, though, she doesn’t expect Nick to leave until he does.

She knows about his crush on Julie (and on at least one of his lacrosse teammates at any given time). She’s not blind. Of course she knows. And she doesn’t particularly care, because she knows Nick, and she knows he wouldn’t cheat.

And she knows that they’ve been together since the beginning of 8th grade—over 2 years—and most teen relationships don’t last 2 months, so it’s not exactly a surprise that he doesn’t like her that way anymore. He did in the beginning, but lately they’ve been drifting apart not so much physically as emotionally. They’re not the same people they were in 8th grade.

Nick has known Julie for as long as he’s known Carrie, so of course he knew Rose, too (another person in Carrie’s life that left.) and for him, with the Molinas’ tendency to provide family figures to anyone who needs them, her death was probably a ripping open of old wounds, considering how his own mother died when he was little. Rose’s death affected him almost as much as it did a girl who’s known the Molinas since she was in diapers.

Carrie just... tried really hard not to think about it. She’s still trying really hard not to think about it. Because Rose was... well, she was around for more of Carrie’s childhood than her deadbeat of a blood mother was.

That woman is another thing Carrie tries really hard not to think about.

She who only stuck around for the first 7 years of Carrie’s life, and then left because... because she cried too much or needed too much attention or just got to be too much effort? Because she wasn’t a part of the future her mother wanted?

Because Carrie was never wanted in the first place?

It’s not like her dad ever told her, but Carrie’s not stupid. She knows that her parents were never married, and her dad had been tripping hard on the consequences of teenage fame around the time she would have been conceived. He’d cleaned up his act for her and her mom hadn’t because why would she put in the effort for the product of what was probably a one night stand?

Carrie’s not stupid. No one told her, but she knows she was an accident. And she doesn’t care. She doesn’t let how she came to be affect how she lives her life. She doesn’t be bright and flashy and talented to prove that she deserves her space in the world. She doesn’t let it affect her perception of herself or her relationships.

Flynn is always so effortlessly confident in themself, no matter if she’s feeling conflicted about her mom having a girlfriend or angry about their dad ignoring them or sad about her best friend’s mom who was as good as another mother to them dying. It’s one of the things Carrie loves hates the most about her. That she could be that confident (so confident she could almost make Carrie feel confident in herself).

Flynn always acts like they’re right. It’s infuriating because she almost always is she’s wrong when it comes to Carrie.

Okay, maybe Carrie doesn’t like Nick that way. Maybe Flynn’s right about that. But he bops to her songs. He doesn’t challenge her. And he’s hiding from acting on any of his actual crushes just like her.

They’re together because... because Carrie does like being around him. Nick’s easy to like. He’s friendly with practically everyone and has pretty flexible music taste. He’s popular, like her. They make sense together.

And Carrie knows he’s been hiding behind her to avoid confronting his crush on Julie for the last several months, so it honestly doesn’t make sense why he’d want to stop. What they’re doing now is safe. It’s easy. Effortless, really.

And it’s apparently not enough. Carrie is apparently not enough for him anymore.

Whatever. She doesn’t think him and Julie are going to get together, be it because of Julie’s new crush on her guitarist or Nick’s already-established inability to make a damn move on a real crush. Honestly, she’s expecting him to chicken out and run back to her like the last couple times.

Or at least... she is until he accuses her of the same thing Flynn did years ago.

When Flynn who is always right insisted she’s...

Carrie remembers back when they first came out, when Triple Threat was they were maybe... 11? 10? As a lesbian with she/they pronouns. She remembers how everyone was supportive, but Rose did pull Julie and Carrie aside later to say that they need to look out for Flynn because people can be hateful and though it’s getting better, things will be harder for her because of who they are.

And Rose was right. In the spotlight, it’s harder to be anything but straight. Her dad told her once about a friend he had when he was younger who faced so much shit because he was gay. She saw the stickynote some idiot stuck in Flynn’s locker in 7th grade. She’s seen producers and choreographers willing to work with Dirty Candi—until they look at Courtney’s Instagram and find that she’s out and proud and therefore not as marketable to a mainstream audience.

It’s not easy to be anyone trying to get your big break. But if you’re straight your sexuality is never one of the things that gets in the way, so Carrie is straight.

She’s fine with Courtney being out. She’s not their front woman and the group’s reputation can survive that. And Julie and Flynn’s sexualities are never one of the things Carrie mocks about them, but she knows from stalking the comments on Edge of Great and seeing some assholes saying shit about Julie being bisexual that others aren’t so kind.

Another reason Carrie liked being with Nick was because she had an excuse not to think about any of this.

Not to replay Flynn’s voice in her mind from when they were 13, confessing feelings Carrie had never even considered and asking her out.

She’d run away from that—run to Nick—because... because she felt bad, breaking Flynn’s heart. Not because there was any kind of realization and consequential panic about feelings for her that Carrie might, hypothetically return.

It’s easier to be straight. Being straight doesn’t hurt her career, and she needs her career because she’s got to prove to everyone who ever left her that they should’ve stayed that she’s just as talented as her dad.

So when the feelings and heartbreak and complications ruin their friendship because Flynn is right can’t accept being wrong, she doesn’t miss Flynn. She doesn’t miss Flynn. She doesn’t miss Flynn.

Pirates of the Caribbean isn’t even that good of a franchise anyway, so what does Carrie care if Flynn hates her guts and calls her a demon and growls that you don’t even like him and you can lie to the world and yourself about who you are but we can be friends again when you’re ready to stop lying to me.

Carrie doesn’t miss them. She doesn’t miss Julie, either. She doesn’t need either of them. She doesn’t want them around. She doesn’t enjoy the (grudgingly) impressed look on Flynn’s face on the rare occasion she shows up to a Dirty Candi show and watches Carrie shine without them.

But with how weird Nick’s been acting lately... maybe she does need Julie and Flynn’s help to find out what’s wrong, because the normal Nick left her clearly doesn’t trust her anymore and she won’t be able to help him by herself.

So after over a year of pushing them away, telling them not to bother coming to her performances, being angry that Julie is so successful, Carrie sucks it up, takes a deep breath, and walks over to Julie’s locker for a civil conversation.

The murderous look that Flynn gives her doesn’t matter. It’s fine.

Carrie hasn’t missed her, or... desperately wanted her around even when they were fighting or anything.

...

I’m pretty sure I saw someone call the blue one Courtney once. I don’t think it’s a canon name but that’s who that is if anyone was wondering.

I kinda rushed finishing this because jatp won an mtv award and I wanted to contribute to (maybe) making it trend so sorry if it kinda sucks! If you do like it, comments are love so please comment!

Also let me know if you want a part 3 cause I’m undecided on writing more to this.

[takarter]

Supercorp college AU?? Thank you!

My first prompt!! Thank you! I wrote this some time ago, but here you go. Enjoy :)

Kara’s all grimaces and fingers struggling not to destroy her red solo cup as she makes her way through crowds of sweaty bodies, and mumbles excuses as she goes along. They’re answered with no more than giggles and laughter and inappropriate offers, and suddenly she understands why Alex had advised her to sneak in some alcoholic beverages suited for aliens.

Between dancing friends and people she’s never seen before, Kara finds an empty spot on what turns out to be a moderately comfortable couch. Though it’s the guy sitting on it, right next to her, that reminds Kara of how notably too sober she still is. Instead she watches this all unfold without any intoxication to make up for a lack of respect, or actual things to do. There’s only so many dance-moves Kara can pull off - forced onto the makeshift dance floor by no other than Alex - while being fully aware of how stupid she must look. And there are only so many conversations she can have with people much more inebriated before she realizes they’re all the same, and all equally as boring and insignificant.

The guy next to Kara won’t stop talking about the hot chick - Alex - dancing amongst some of his friends, the terrible music pounds in Kara’s ears, and whatever liquid she’s put into her cup tastes bitter and, quite frankly, unappealing without the added bonus of getting to enjoy this evening a little more. And Kara hates frat parties. She knows now why she’s never attended one before. 

“That’s my sister,” Kara points out one more time, after one comment about beautifully swaying hips too much. She glares at him, too, just for good measure.

 His gaze is resting on Alex’s frame, and he barely picks up on it, merely grins. “Think she’d let me hit that?” 

Kara groans, and downs her drink simply because of the message it usually seems to convey. She’s done with this conversation, and she’s done with this party. 

“She’s a lesbian.” 

His goofy grin merely falters. Only then does Kara nudge his shoulder and point out someone else to him. Sam, one hand playing with short auburn hair, the other holding a cup of her own. Almost as tightly as Kara’s holding hers. 

“And see that girl?” she asks. Kara makes sure he’s spotted Sam before she keeps on going, and she makes sure that he’s picked up on her malicious gaze as well. “The one that’s currently glaring at you? That’s her girlfriend.” 

Kara emphasizes each key word in hopes he might understand, eventually, how incredibly unwanted his attention is. But he doesn’t, and so Kara gives up. She pats his shoulder in pity before she lets Alex know she’ll get out of there for a while, come back later to make sure both her and Sam end up getting home safely. And almost she feels guilty for the way Alex’s upturned lips fall, and her head tilts to one side in question. 

She explains it’s just not her thing, and how she feels uncomfortable - how she’d rather be in her dorm right in that moment. How she’d rather be outside stargazing, or in one of the empty rooms of the frat house that’s not currently occupied by some drunk couple, doing things Kara would rather not think about. 

In the end she settles for latter, and if only because a certain drunk guy has seemingly deemed it his mission to follow her. With a newly filled cup Kara escapes up the stairs, tries several rooms and sighs in relief when she finally stumbles upon an unlocked one. 

She sneaks into it, closes the door behind her, leans against it with closed eyes. The music’s still decidedly too loud, though muffled and dull, and somehow she can’t help but grin. That is, until she opens her eyes - and finds that she’s not as alone as she’d previously hoped to be. The thought-to-be-empty bedroom is not all that empty after all, and Kara can feel the warmth spread up her neck as she looks at the girl now eyeing her curiously.

“Oh, hi.” Pulled out of her stupor - but not entirely, this girl is pretty -, Kara manages to wave with her free hand and gather herself up enough to then extend it as she takes a few steps closer. She’s about to shake this girl’s hand, at a party, but suddenly there’s that familiar upturn of now dry lips. “Wait, I know you! Chemistry. Lena, right?” 

Kara finds little comfort in no longer being the only one to blush, and yet she does enjoy wide eyes and a bashful smile. “You know me?” 

“Of cour-” 

“You’re Kara Danvers.” 

Kara thinks that somehow the tone of Lena’s voice indicates this simple statement to mean something more, but she hasn’t just yet gotten behind it as she gets comfortable on the bed, proceeds to look at Lena. “Yeah.” 

“And you know me.” Again, Kara doesn’t quite know what that’s supposed to mean. 

“And you’re studying at a party,” she shoots back instead, grins when Lena closes her book instinctively, and takes off her thick rimmed glasses. Kara regrets having said anything at all. It’s only now that she properly takes note of books, and pens, and a cup of coffee on the floor next to the other girl. Kara finds it all to be incredibly endearing. 

Lena shrugs and takes a sip. “Lame, I know.” 

But Kara shakes her head, disagrees wholeheartedly and then laughs. “Don’t go around calling any of this lame, now that there’s two of us.” 

“What are you doing here anyways, Kara Danvers?” Lena draws out her name in a manner that might almost be teasing. Pale cheeks adapt a complimenting shade of red once more. “Football captain. Most popular girl on campus. Shouldn’t you be partying with your friends?” 

“If by friends you mean my intoxicated sister, her girlfriend, and some creepy dude that won’t stop hitting on either of us, sure.” 

Lena hums in understanding, smiles knowingly, picks up her books again. Kara doesn’t mind, merely watches in something that might come close to fascination. Perhaps she is drunk, after all. She certainly feels giddy, can barely stop the upward rising of lips. Once again she downs her drink, and hopes Lena does not mind her presence. 

“So you’re staying here instead?” Lena asks, and Kara nods softly in response. With its relative silence, a comfortable bed and a definitive lack of people, this room is certainly better than any of the crowded ones downstairs. Having Lena’s company is a surprising yet welcome bonus, if she’ll have her. 

“I’d love t-”

There’s loud knocking on the door then, and a voice that is distinctively Sam’s. Kara’s mad at the interruption, though only for all of one second, before the words catch up with her. 

“Kara, you in there? Alex is sick, we better get her out of here.” The door opens slowly and Sam peaks inside carefully. “You’re not sleeping with someone in there, are you?” 

Kara blushes, stumbles over words. Lena is the one who answers with a mocking “nope, we’re just studying”, Kara already a few steps across the room. Sam’s gaze as it meets her own is sceptical and adorned with raised eyebrows, but Kara merely shrugs, goofy grin still set in place. 

She’s not quite sure what compels her to turn around once more. To apologize for her sudden appearance, as well as her sudden departure, sure. Though she doesn’t know why exactly she now also deems it logical to follow up an adventurous evening with something that is quite frankly reckless. 

“Hey Lena? Just in case you ever need a study partner agai-” 

Sam pulls her out of the room before she can finish, and soon Kara’s back amongst people. The music’s still bad, even more so now that there’s no door to muffle it, and the floor is sticky with alcohol. Alex is stuck in one of the bathrooms, and Kara knows it’ll be a long night when she takes a proper look at both her and Sam. 

And yet all she can think about is green eyes, and how she’d like to see them again in a setting less gross.

[wtfrace]

a lapse of judgement— chapter one, racetrack higgins.

in which rosie lewis is all of a sudden very flustered around her roommate, racetrack higgins— and has absolutly no idea what to do about it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

rosie lewis must have been on something last august. something that must have desparatley lapsed her common sense— otherwise there was no explanation for how she ended up living in a sub-par apartment with three chaotic boys.

she had just started her sophomore year of college, and after two of her roommates transferred to another school a state over, she was desperate for either help with rent, or a place to move in. she had put out an ad on craigslist, as well as several flyers around campus, and waited anxiously for a reply. it came in the form of an email from someone named albert desilva. the message had begun with okay this is a long shot, and had more or less gone down hill from there.

the boy had then explained that he, and two of his friends, had been kicked out of their shared house off campus (under circumstances that were absolutly not our fault, please don’t let that lapse your judgment) and they were looking for a decent place to stay. here comes the part that made rosie think she absolutly had to be smoking something at the time— because she said yes.

now, a year and a half later— she was living in a decently large, very messy, apartment with albert desilva, antonio, racetrack, higgins, and elmer kasprzak.

now, don’t think for a moment that rosie didn’t adore those boys. at first she had been hesitant towards their loud & boyish personality’s, but now she wasn’t sure how she had ever lived without them in her life. they were as messy as her, and usually pretty annoying— but above all that they were caring & considerate & really good at making her smile. living with them had come with perks, including but not limited to almost free takeout (via elmer’s job at the italian place a few blocks away), exposure to the best movies she had ever seen thus far (via albert’s excellent taste) and rarely wavering emotional support (via race’s general personality).

so it definitely wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy living with them— moreover that occasionally it made it hard to do simple things. last month, they had sat down to figure out bills together, but had become distracted half way through by a new episode of criminal minds. a few days after that they tried to do it again, and ended up following race to the roof to see what he claimed was “a giant garfield balloon” (which there was, but still.) now, as rosie tried to complete the simple task of creating a grocery list— she found herself overwhelmingly distracted.

“in conclusion,” elmer said assuredly, “turning race’s bedroom into a vegetable garden would be only profitable to the over-all wellbeing & financial structure of our group.” rosie looked up for the first time during his spiel, continuing to write vegan mac & cheese (cheap kind) as she did, and gave him a pointed look.

“and in this made-up situation, where exactly would race be living?” she asked, glancing at the tall boy that was currently trying to see how many of albert’s textbooks he could balance on his head.

“well, race is statistically the least useful person in this apartment. we could kick him out, or just make him sleep on a mattress on the fire escape.” elmer said dismissively, mostly joking but also a little serious.

“el, we aren’t kicking race out so you can overtake another room with your herbs & dahlia’s.” rosie said, a small smile on her face as she glanced pointedly at the not one, but three pots placed on top of the cabinets (so high that it took two people to water them, one with the watering can, and one holding a rickety step-stool.)

“aw, that’s sweet flower, you care about my wellbeing.” race said cheesily, dropping the books back onto the kitchen table & pinching her cheek. this brings us to what had been distracting her the most. all day she had been weird around race. he was an unusually touchy person, but rosie has grown so used to it she barely noticed— except for today. all of a sudden every touch sent her face heating up & her heart plummeting. it was the strangest thing she had experienced in a while, and it was beginning to make it difficult to be in the same room as him. now though, she was determined to finish her grocery list, and ignored the stir in her stomach to shoo him away with her pen.

“more like your rent, racer.” albert said, yawning as he joined them in the kitchen. “wanna watch interstellar with me, rosie?”

“no! i’m determined to get this done this weekend, and it’s sunday and i’ve barely finished a list of what we need.” rosie exclaimed, “the only thing in the fridge right now is elmer’s prized wonka-bar, and three half finished arizona ice teas. so if you don’t want to starve— help, or leave.” albert and elmer shared nervous glances, and simultaneously exited the room. rosie was very rarely angry or annoyed, but when she was, she was a force to be reckoned with. talk about an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

but, to rosie’s great dismay, while those two left, race chose to stuck around.

“i can see you’re frustrated, rosie— and i assure you, we won’t leave this room ‘til your list is finished!” race said, sliding into the bar-stool next to her. great, just what she needed.

“c’mon race, be serious.” a statement equivalent to asking a penguin to be a giraffe.

“hey— serious is my middle name, doll!” rosie screwed up her face, ignoring the fact that her heart was beating rapidly at that comment. she was beginning to tire of whatever new variable was causing her body to go into SOS mode when she was around him.

“you sound like a newsboy from 1899 when you call me that.” she said, eyebrows raised impertinently, and cheeks dusted with red. oddly specific, but completely accurate. race grinned back at rosie, stealing the list from in front of her, and sliding the stool closer to her so their elbows were touching.

“there’s a soar lack of ninja turtle fruit snacks on here.” race said, then stealing the pen from between her fingers to scribble down a few words across the sheet of paper. it was going to be a long night.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

it took rosie the rest of the night to figure out what was bothering her.

after race had enthusiastically helped with the grocery list, he had been insistent on accompanying her to the store a few blocks away. the walk had felt a little better— the cool march air refreshed rosie a little, and she had settled into normal conversation with race (the downfalls of dunkirk, and the proper rating of 17th century artists.) they walked side by side, both with smiles on their faces, through the ever-crowded streets of greenwich village.

they got to the grocers at around 7, just as the sun was beginning to set, and rosie was thinking that maybe she had a temporary lapse in judgement earlier, seeing as she didn’t feel anything looking at race now. and then, he had blown her theory clear out of exsistence, when he easily scooped her into his arms, and deposited her into a shopping cart. rosie could feel her entire body flush red, as she gaped slightly at the taller boy. her stomach was doing a gymnastics routine not unlike elmer if you got him drunk enough, and race was grinning adorably like it was the most normal thing in the world.

still though, she had no idea what was causing her so much tribulation. until the canned foods section.

race had been unwilling to help rosie out of the cart for the entirety of the trip, insisting that she needed a break after working on her feet all day saturday— so she watched from her mildy uncomfortable seat in the basket, as race tried to bowl using a can of soup and six skinny boxes of spaghetti. too entirely flustered to insist that he stop, rosie simply stared— something in her alighting when he turned back to her with a pleased smile on his face. his hair was messy, in need of a cut, and hanging sloppily across his forehead— and every freckle & scar of his face was clear in the harsh light of the grocery store. his hands were raised in victory (having successfully knocked down all the boxes without being caught by an employee) and the baggy sleeves of his sweatshirt bunched at his wrists.

then she knew.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

24 hours later, rosie stared pitifully into space, as she ate a bowl of lucky charms, sitting criss cross on jack kelly’s countertop. jack, along with his boyfriend davey, leaned against the counter opposite her, eyeing the girl with an air of concern.

jack had been a friend of rosie’s for years— and had subsequently met davey (a friend of race, elmer and albert’s) when they were inevitably at the apartment at the same time. seven months later, they were dating, and sharing the rent on an apartment at the border of chelsea & greenwich village. albert called them gross, elmer called them a match made in heaven, but either way it was agreed that the four were subsequently the reason they met— and therefore should have the right to be the namesack of their first four children.

“okay, rose, you got your lucky charms. are you going to explain why you were on my doorstep in near tears at one in the morning, now?” jack asked, eyebrows raised with conviction.

“i got feelings, jacky— i need to know how to make them go away.” rosie’s voice came out barely a whisper, her statement sounding much more ridiculous once she said it out loud.

“you— what?” davey elbowed jack in the side, a knowing expression on his face as the two had a clear wordless conversation.

“you heard me!” the girl exclaimed, her face pitiful & desperate enough to draw genuine concern from the boy. “you got over kath, i need to know how to get over this.” jack scratched the back of his neck.

“well... it helped that kath was a lesbian. i’m assuming that’s not a variable in this situation.” jack shrugged, “c’mon rosie, you’re going to have to give us more information than that.”

“race.” the single word drew a scoff from jack’s mouth.

“rosie, i could have told you that weeks ago.” davey said, confusion clear in his expression, “what’s so bad about having feelings for race?”

“that kid wouldn’t do anything to hurt you if we paid him a million bucks & threw in a razor scooter.” jack added. rosie glared at them, opening her mouth to respond but struggling on how to word her feelings. jack crossed his arms over his chest, head tilting a little to the side.

“it’s a problem! i-i live with him! an’ on top of that he’s one of my best friends, and he would never in a million years like me back so if he ever found out— which he definetly would the way i’ve been acting, then—“

“dear god lewis, i love you, you know that, but you’re actually hopeless.” jack huffs, causing rosie to stare blankly at him. “race doesn’t like you back? how do you explain— like everything he does! are you forgetting the time he literally proposed to you with a basket of olive garden breadsticks!”

“he’s race, jack, he’s like that with everybody! that same day he flirted with a pigeon on the sidewalk outside of olive garden!” davey blinked, holding a hand up to interupt.

“first of all— that was months ago and the fact that you both remember it so vividly is a little unsettling. second of all, i knew him before you did, rosie. before he moved in with you he did flirt with anything that breathed, but now? i haven’t seen him give any man, woman, or bird other then you a second glance.” rosie looked dreadfully unconvinced, stirring her spoon absentmindedly through the now empty bowl. her heart had admittedly soared a little at the thought of race liking her.

for a split second, her brain let her imagine her and race together: sprawled across the sofa in the living room, his hand in her hair, we bare bears playing lowly in the background, race occasionally laughing gently & pressing a kiss to her forehead. she imagined waking up to his ungodly snoring, but smiling like an idiot anyway, because he was damn beautiful in the mornings. she imagined walking through little italy hand in hand with him, giggling as he pointed out stupid things in the windows of shops. then— she got a grasp of reality, pushing the thought out of her head. she couldn’t afford to get her hopes up— not when there was a huge chance race had never thought about her that way.

“i don’t like this,” rosie mumbled, setting the bowl by the sink, and pulling her knees to her chest. “how do i make it go away? seriously— no matter whether you think race likes me or not, how do i make it go away?” jack and davey exchanged a look, before laughing simultaneously.

“that isn’t really how it works, rosie.” davey said sympathetically, “you can act on it, or you can put up with it until it eventually fades away but—“

“i can’t put up with feeling like this for much longer.”

jack looked at her like the answer was obvious, “then act on it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

part two to be posted soon

[bobbiejelly]

Peace of My Heart

  Addison swears Callie to secrecy, she reveals her long-lasted lesbian affair with Meredith Grey to encourage her friend to finally come out of the closet. MerAdd. Callica to Calzona. Rated M.

Set in GA Season 4, Episode 13, "Piece of My Heart."

Ps. There’s an obvious allusion to the GA premiere here, ten points for whoever comments it. :)

 “Callie, are you speaking the  Vagina Monologues”  Addison teases her as she crunches her potato chips into her mouth, one by one, one by one. And she waits for it all to sink in for Callie.

 And Callie freaks out at her a little and tells her that clearly she’s been living in L.A way too long -  way too long - if she thinks that Calliope Torres has suddenly switched sides to be a lesbian. 

 Callie begs her to please explain to her what she means when she advocates “I’m all for it, I mean, I think it’s fantastic.” Addison explains to her without any hesitation or reservations.

 “Well, I just mean that I admit that there is that a peace of my heart will always lie with women and that they bring me something that men cannot” Addison states were really so simple.

 “Since when have you  ‘spoken the Vagina Monologues’ if that’s apparently what you call it” Callie exclaims to her incredulously as if her best friend had been keeping secrets from her. 

 “Ahem, last time I’ve spoken them would have been at let’s say ten-thirty this morning,” Addison says with a shrug. Addison explains it all to her as she’s sipping at her juice box. 

 Off Callie’s stunned look she explains that she didn’t tell her because one doesn’t generally announce they’re having affairs with their ex-husband’s girlfriend even with their best friends. 

 She swears Callie to secrecy before she whispers about her seven moments of heaven in lesbian land. Seven of her deepest indulgences with lady-lover of hers, Doctor Meredith Grey.

 7

 “See the first time anything at all happened between us, we were both extremely emotional. We had a difficult case and there was this baby who didn’t make it and I was crying the way I do when a child dies. And I was lonely, and she was there. So I just let her be there for me. 

 And she held me close and she told me “I’m sorry” and she was saying all of these perfect things. Like how I was a good surgeon and how I would have made a really great wife had Derek not been so absent and I just needed to feel something. So I let her sit next to me. 

 So when she pressed her lips to mine I didn’t pull away and I let myself kiss her back. I let the curves of her lips hit mine and her soft breaths fall on my own. And I let her move our mouths together oh, so gently. Like it was only a dream. And she was only a dream. I was dreaming.

And I said to myself that me and Derek, we’re even now because Derek hid me from her and I hid Mark from Derek so we’re even now and I felt better. Like I was getting even or getting back at him for something and she agreed. So I thanked her as she ran her fingers through my hair. 

 And I don’t remember saying much else because before I could say anything or before she could say anything to me I had fallen asleep. And before I knew it, it was already morning. And I thought she would still be there next to me. I think she was but she left right before I woke up.

 And for some inexplicable reason, I wished that she’d stayed lying in bed next to me. I missed the warmth of her body, yet the coolness of her touch. I missed the way she smelled like lavender on the top of her head. And I missed that she was so much gentler than Derek was.

 6

 So then I thought that it would be awkward to work with her again after that but it wasn’t. She pretended like nothing had ever happened between us so I pretended too and we never ever talked about it ever again. And she never told word to Derek and neither did I. Or anyone else.

 So when she’s extremely mad at me because of some reason, for Derek, or for surgery or for disagreeing with her guess at a course of treatment then she just starts mouthing off to me. She’s making me angry and poking fun at my ponytail and the whole thing is outrageous.

 So when I pull her aside to talk so we’re not screaming at each other in front of the whole hospital I’m least of all expecting to be thrown against the back of the door and to be bitten on the neck. And then she bites me again before Meredith soothes the bites over with her tongue.

 And then she kisses me all rough and dirty and I’ve just been so damn lonely with Derek never being home that I let her. I let her press me against the wall and to gloss her hands over my breasts because when she gropes them I can’t contain the moans that come out of my mouth.

 So she kisses me all hot and naughty and she’s just such a little flirtatious tease that she keeps tugging up on my t-shirt but she never ever removes it. She never takes it any further, never reaches her hands under my shirt or into my pants. So I just moan as she kisses me rough.

 And she pushes me harder and harder against the wall as she kisses me and opens my mouth so she can slide her tongue in over my lips. And it feels so good that I let her keep going until she’s tonguing me and kissing my lips and my mouth and my jaw and my neck and my ears.

 5

 And then I thought that we’d gotten it all out of our systems because I hardly heard from her at all for the longest while. She hadn’t called me or paged me at weird hours or shouted at me or found me crying at odd hours of the day or the night or in the morning or afternoon or evening.

 So I thought we were in the clear from all of this outrageous semi-lesbianic-kissing business but then that day she was ecstatic about the whole not dying during a freaking bomb exploding when she was holding the damn thing in her hand for literally hours. So I couldn’t say no to her.

 So she dragged me into an on-call room and she shoved me onto a bed. She takes off my top and my bra before she sits right down on my lap and weaves her hands through my hair. Then she sticks her tongue down my throat and dominates my mouth with her teeth and lips.

 Then she gropes all over my breasts till I’m panting and she’s panting and her hand is on my cheek. And she watches me and smirks when she has to cover my mouth when I yell out. Because when she puts her lips to my nipples and suckles them I want to yell. And scream.

 And when she takes off her shirt and asks me to do the same to her, I do. I take off her bra and I put her breasts in my mouth and I swirl my tongue around them like she did. And I’d never done that before. I’d never been with a woman that I remembered. Not when I saw sober at least.

 And the kissing and the touching isn’t all that different when it comes to both men and women. Except women kiss softer than men do and their lips are smaller and there’s no rough stubble or facial hair. And it feels so good to keep kissing Meredith because she moans as loud as I do.

 4

 During the hospital prom, Meredith was with Finn and I was with Derek. And I saw him waiting and watching her come down the stairs. And while I knew he was waiting and watching, I was also waiting and watching her. I waited for her to come down those stairs just like my husband. 

 And I was watching her because before she came down those stairs and before she had put on all of that makeup and before she had clasped that necklace to her neck she had been with me. She had been taking off my clothes until all I had left on were my scrubs pants. And so did she. 

 So we kissed in the same exam room that Derek and Meredith eventually ran away too. I knew about that by the way, I knew about it even before you knew. I knew because she told me about it. How it was her quest to sleep with not only one, but two Doctor Shepherd’s the night of prom.

 And maybe I should have told her then that she was insane. Maybe I should have said that I wasn’t a toy she could just screw with for fun and pretend like she wasn’t seeing Finn and I wasn’t still married to Derek. I should have maybe said those things to her, but I didn’t at all. 

 Instead, I let her kiss me till I submitted to her will. I let her carry me over to the bed and set me down gently. I let her crawl into my lap before she straddled me in between my legs. I let her dominate our kisses and feel the head warm up in my thighs. And so we made out a lot, then.

And she suckled my breasts again as I did the same to her back. Only this time we were both lying down. Only this time she was grinding her hips into my thighs. Only this time she was feeling the inside of my hip. Only this time she made us come in our scrub pants in ecstasy.

 3 

 The first time she had me naked was after my divorce had been finalized. I went and found her before Mark Sloan could get to me when he came to Seattle. This time it was me who dragged her into that supply closet and it was me who was scribbling down an address and a time for us.

 So she shows up at my hotel room with a bottle of tequila in her hand and I don’t even open it after she opens the door. She sets it down gently before pushing me back on the hotel bed and she rips all my clothes off before I take off hers. She kissed me so softly I thought I would die.

 And then she let me carry her into bed before flipping us right away and ravaging all of my senses. She knew exactly what she was doing like she had done this countless times before. She warmed me right up and made me all hot and bothered. Then she teased me so, so hard.

 She tickled toes and she kissed my ankles and my calves. She moved on to my thighs which she sucked on. She’d plant open-mouthed kisses all the way over my stomach. She licked her way past my breasts and she blew hot air on my chest. She had me wait for her more touch.

 Then she teased her fingers around me, at my center at my core. And she licked them and tasted me on them. And then she stuck them inside of me again but just once. And she offered them to me so I could taste myself off her fingers. I nibbled her index and I suckled her ring. 

 Then she plunged right back into me, deep in my depths. She worships my white-hot core as she fingers me. She moves in and out at will and increases her pace. And she looks into my eyes before she plunges in with her tongue. And she hits my clit next and I knew was a goner.

 2

 The first time I ever did her was after her own mother had just died and she nearly drowned two times in less than twenty-four hours. She was so sad and broken and needed to heal her small body for days. When I thought she may never wake up I was so scared and alone. She lived.

 And I was so happy I stayed at her bedside even after Derek had long since walked away. And I slept by her side when the nurses weren’t looking and I made lame excuses to bring her meals to nourish her soul and her heart. She was on the mend so I wasn’t so scared or alone anymore. 

 And she asked me to stay at her house when she finally went home. And I couldn’t resist this chance. I had to make her happy. So I stayed with her and I held her close. I rocked her to sleep every night and reassured her after nightmares. When Derek asked we said it was a girls thing. 

 We stayed celibate for a while. We kissed a bit and that’s it. I didn’t want to push her to be physical with me until she was ready to be. She could hardly sit up on her own at first. Slowly and surely she could stand. Eventually, she went back to work. We went on with our lives.

 And then one night when she was feeling stronger she started to stroke my back. And she started to stroke my neck. And she started to turn my head around. And then she started to kiss me again. She wanted to give sex to me then but she wasn’t strong enough yet, she just wasn’t.

 So I gave sex to her for the first time that night. We had been watching a movie in bed but we ended up talking. And the talking leads to touching. And the touching leads to sex. And then there ain’t no mystery left about what I wanted next. So I plunged my hand in and licked my lips. I dived in.

 1

 When I went to LA and back for the week that first time I didn’t tell her I was leaving and I didn’t tell her I was coming back. When I found out I was practically infertile I wished she was there to comfort me. I wanted her to hold me in her arms like she did the first time we kissed, so much. 

 When I came back I was still devastated and she found me alone. She wasn’t supposed to be in the Attendings lounge but I welcomed her right into my arms. And I collapsed into her as I cried. And she never let go of me, not once the whole time. As we camped out in the lounge that night.

 And she made sweet love to me the next morning before rounds. We did it all hot and naughty on one of the couches before anyone would bother to make coffee. She had to hold her hand over my mouth so I couldn’t cry out to high heavens when I came. As I came into her like a train. 

 And I made sweet love to her later that day around the hospital. We’d sneak in a kiss here or there. We’d touch each other for only minutes at a time before breaking it off. We were being riskier about it because we liked the thrill of it all. I never felt like that about affairs before. 

 And I thought it was going to be endless except for my job in LA. I told myself it was better. That she could be with Derek again without having me to worry about on the side. That I could go find someone to love me fully. That I could forget. She could forget. Forget each other for once.

 The last time we slept together before I left was the day of Burke’s wedding. I was the reason she said “It’s over, it’s SO over” to Derek. She was going to try to have a relationship with me. And she said that to me before she knew I was going to leave. She asked me to stay. But I left.

 0

 And at around ten o’clock this morning we hadn’t seen each other in ages. And I pretended to be a little afraid of seeing her. Because I was afraid of seeing her with Derek. But not because I was afraid of him I was afraid that he’d already found out, that she’d said. Or that he’d know. 

 But Meredith never told him. She never talked to him about me. He never talked to her about me either. So our secret was safe. And our secret was still our secret. It took all of ten minutes before Meredith started sneaking us off together. She told sweet little lies to Doctors, to Derek.

 And she didn’t regret it one little bit because she missed me, she missed me so much. And I missed her more than she could ever, ever know. So she drove me back to Derek’s trailer in the middle of the day and I took out his spare keys that I knew he had hidden behind the flower pot.

 And we christened every inch of that trailer while Derek was still in surgery. We worked fast and ruthlessly to give each other as much pleasure as we could. She went down on me at least eighteen times. I tried to keep up but I hardly made it past double digits. Enough for her, for me.

 And the day has been going on like this. She’ll probably page me sometime soon so you know. She’ll take me soon, somewhere in this hospital. We know Seattle Grace’s all sex and caring. She’ll take me under the stairwell, on top of the bridge if she has to. I sure hope she does.

 She asked me to stay, but I’m leaving. I’m leaving Seattle for LA again. I’m leaving alone. And I know that she’s heartbroken. And I know that I’m heartbroken. But I know it’s for the best for us. Because as much as I love her, more than she loves me, it’s not enough. I’m not enough for her. 

  Callie considers all of the wonderful and wild tales of desire Addison has confided in her. 

 She comforts the woman who’s so sad she’s in tears now. She’s shaking and Callie holds her.

 Callie tells her it sounds wonderful, not the cheating and lies. But the love part. The lesbian part.

She says that she’ll keep Addison’s new adultery habit a secret -She owes her for Derek still.

And about speaking the vagina monologues with Erica Hahn? Callie says she’ll think about it.

 Callie texts Addison exactly three weeks later once her and Erica Hahn finally get together 

 They both hook it up after the elevator incident. And the lobby kiss incident. And all the dating. 

 “Ok, I understand what you mean about how women are great in bed” Callie admits sheepishly.

 “See I knew I could corrupt you to the dark side! Addison exclaims” with an explicit emoji.

 “Yada yada yada piece of my heart I know your whole speech” Callie concedes to her.

 “It’s that a peace of my heart will always lie with only the woman, forever. 

 Addison states this as if it were the most inconsequential and simple thing in the world.

 “I think you mean 'piece of my heart', you know like the song” Callie furrows her brow at her.

 “Well, I did mean  ‘peace’  of my heart. I find it quite peaceful to have women beside me in bed” 

 “Addison I think you really care for this Grey girl you know” Callie suspects. “I think you love her”

 “I do. I think I do love her. And I think she loves me. Someday we’ll get it right” Addison sighs. 

 “I really hope you do” Callie wishes her good luck. “If you love her don’t let her go,” she says. 

  And we all know that that never worked out in the end. Hahn saw all the leaves then she left.

  And Callie was heartbroken and bruised for a long while. Friends helped her heal and be whole.

  And Callie was destined to have one great love of her life and she hadn’t even met   her   yet.

  When she finally did, I delivered their baby and brought Callie back into the world for Arizona.

 Later on that evening, Addison’s only been gone one day away from Meredith Grey now but she’s already up on the internet looking up the cheapest fares for her next flight out to Seattle. 

 She hesitates over it for ages because she’s not sure if Meredith had moved on, or if she’d gone back to McDreamy. Or if she’d ever cared about Addison as much as Addison cared for her. 

 She knows that she’s absolutely insane but this girl drives her crazy and all she wants is more.

 Meredith Grey may take her through the wringer of every emotion under the sun, but boy is it the best once they’re together in bed. And once they stay there, just cuddling or napping together.

 For all the emotions she’s instilled and played on in Addison Montgomery’s life, by far, the most common one was pleasure, joy, fun, and pure happiness. And happiness is worth fighting for. 

 And so she books a ticket on the next flight out back to Seattle, sky-high prices be damned. 

 She calls Meredith to let her know she’s coming back just for her. Addison tells Meredith that she’s loved her. That she loves her. And Meredith cries and tells Addison she loves her back. 

 She thinks of all the ways and the reasons she might regret this in the morning. All the Derek and Mark and George and Finn and Alex and Pete shaped reasons this might be a bad idea.

  But once Addison’s made peace with that one decision, she’d have to be in love with the rest.

  *

*

 * FIN

Read the complete story here:

Archive Of Our Own (Ao3): https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554429

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13546789/1/Peace-Of-My-Heart

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/862953346-peace-of-my-heart

Tumblr: https://bobbiejelly.tumblr.com/

Mentions of this work on Twitter: https://twitter.com/bobbiejelly1

Thanks for your support, all! 

[obviouslybooks]

I wasn’t going to do this…and I’m still not technically posting my review of Carry On early, but I will post my Carry On rant.  This rant will be the things I DID NOT LIKE about Carry On and if that isn’t your cup of tea, don’t drink it, otherwise, I’ll see you under the cut.  

Obviously…spoilers.

We all know this was a self-indulgent and thinly veiled Drarry rewrite and I’m all for that, but their relationship did not develop?like?at all.  It just happened.  There was so little chemistry and there was an immediate hang up on OH GOD(ohwaitcan’tsaythat)MERLIN(shitwe’resupposedtobepretendingthisisn’tdrarryfic)CROWLEY?!! Is HE? isn’t he?  But is sIMON GAAAY?  

But you’re either Gay™ or Not Gay™ …and the idea of bisexuality was never even considered an option, thought, possibility, or anything.  It was all he’s gay or not gay.  And while the book never gave a definitive answer, I (a Bisexual™) was left with the proverbial bad taste in my mouth.  Now I don’t want to freak out and start screaming “THIS WAS BIPHOBIC” but it did come across as a bit biphobic. Like bruh, Simon could be attracted to Agatha AND Baz.  Or, maybe he wasn’t attracted to anyone until he was attracted to Baz *cough*demisexual*cough*…Come on Rainbow, gurl…get your shit together…

Speaking of getting your shit together, Ebb was a lesbian.  How do I know this?  Because of two throw-away statements from her brother, one of which was lesbophobic and one was obscure enough that it may have gone overlooked.  If you didn’t know dryads are female oak tree minor deities, you could miss that.  Also, there was some shit about giving Ebb shit for being a virgin (don’t give virgins shit) and questioning if she was still a virgin (why is Nicodemus so concerned with his sisters sex life?) and made the off-hand comment about “does feeling up other girls even count?”…and yes this is on page 408 of the US hardcover edition (1st edition if I’m correct) and hoo buddy am I not ok with that.  So, if this was never part of her character in any other way, and without these two sentences she wouldn’t have had a canon sexuality, why was it even put in here?  Maybe representation?  Maybe?  Hey, Ebb is a very powerful mage but decided to live the dirty life of a school grounds goatherd.  ok.

I thought I was done with that last paragraph, but I guess not…What queer girl wants to read a book that has a character blatantly saying that their way of having sex isn’t sex?  Eew.  Now I’m done.

You know who else was wlw?  Trixie the pixie, Trixie who never makes an on-page appearance…Trixie, the roommate Penelope hates because she’s a pixie. But boy-howdy do we know she’s terrible.  

You know who else is terrible(sarcasm___)))?  Philippa��you know why? because she had a crush on Simon!  Well, better steal her voice and throw her out of the book and never let her come back. 

And don’t get me started on Agatha…she’s emotional, likes pretty things, isn’t cut out for the adventure life, doesn’t like to be the damsel in distress but doesn’t possess the means necessary to be a hero, she likes boys, she likes manicures, she’s blonde with blue eyes (I think they were blue…they were light)…and somehow we were led to fucking hate her.  Why?  Why are we demonizing feminine white girls?  There’s nothing wrong with being girly, or not wanting to go fight dragons, and sTOP FOR THE LOVE OF LITERATURE STOP PORTRAYING EMOTIONAL GIRLS AS UNLIKABLE!!! FUCK!

Am I calling Ms. Rowell biphobic? not necessarily, but Baz is. Am I calling Ms. Rowell lesbophobic? not necessarily, but Nicodemus is.

Ok, let’s talk about character deaths.  

So, I may be missing one, but we have a few unnamed baddies (a goblin, some vampires with no names, some numpties with no names) Lily and Narcissa, oh, I mean, Lucy and Natasha…the mothers.  We have the Mage…the Bad Guy™.  And we have Ebb…a lesbian.  

Hmm…handful of women, and the Bad Guy™.  Not a nice demographic.

So, guess we can add this to the Dead Lesbian trope.  Why did Ebb die?  Uh, the Mage was a dick?  I guess.  It could have been left out.  She could have lived.  it wasn’t a huge cathartic event, it happened moments before Harry Simon killed Voldemort the Mage with a non-lethal spell. They mentioned covering her body where it fell at the time of her death, but there was no emotion given to her.  She was written out to be a powerful (but unfulfilled) crybaby mage and when she died, it was like “ok, we’re done with her.”  They never even mention her brother…the one who was responsible for sending Baz to Watford at that moment in the first place.  Nicodemus wanted to save his sister, was denied the chance, sister died, neither character was mentioned again.  

AND DON’T GET ME FUCKING STARTED ON THE WAY SIMON SACRIFICED HIS MAGIC!!!!!!!!!!!****still angry screaming**** WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MAKE HIM SACRIFICE HIS MAGIC only to turn around and have him keep his wings and tail…like ok, let’s make him sacrifice his magic, he’ll be a Normal…but not too Normal, or else he’s not important anymore…BOOM.wings&tail. Oh, but he can’t control them….he can’t hide them, he needs to be completely dependent on another mage to hide his wings and tail magically for him…therefore he is now unable to be independent and will now be unable to live life without daily spells from people.  

Does this imply some icky points about him staying with Baz romantically? yes.  Does this imply some icky points of imposing upon Penny once she wants to leave for America to be with her boyfriend.  Yes.  Does this make no fucking sense?  IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE.  

If you want to have a character sacrifice magic, AND THEN MAKE THEM DEPENDENT ON MAGIC TO EVEN LEAVE THE FUCKING HOUSE, you don’t seem to be doing the sacrifice thing correctly.  What if he and Baz realize they don’t want to be together?  Simon is stuck.. Mages are encouraged to be with other mages…Simon isn’t a mage.  Simon can’t be with a Normal, he’s got goddamned wings and a tail.  This has toxic woven all through it.  

But it’s ok, Baz still wants to be with him, and now he isn’t jealous of him and his power…and He’ll Always Feel Sorry For Him…eew. (yes, this is a paraphrase)…Simon feels like he will never be able to keep up, that he will always be less than Baz.  OH BUT THEY CHOOSE TO BE TOGETHER.  This is not the basis of a healthy relationship.  If you strongly feel that you are inferior to your partner and always will be, THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING!

tl:dr; just go read fanfiction…drarry, snowbaz, either will do. AND BE NICE TO GIRLS! this was bordering on mlm fetishistic.  

p.s. it’s 1:43 a.m. and I have to be up for work in less than 5 hours. fml but I had to say this shit.

p.p.s. the longer I worked on writing this, the less I liked the book…I may end up changing my rating…or at least make notes of what I did like to balance this shit out before I do my actual review.

***edit*** I did some fact checking, and it wasn’t even Ebb that Simon covered with the jacket after she died, he covered the body of the fucking MAGE right after he stabbed Ebb in the chest then tried to take Simon’s magic. Like…wtf… yeah he’s your father, but YOU NEVER FIND THAT OUT!

[imagine-loki]

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Eleven AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

“Me?”

“Yep. JARVIS was able to dig out all the specific files on SHIELD’s little experiments. Each ‘test subject’ inherited the genes from the male donors to their DNA, their fathers.” Stark explained, taking another drink.

“As if she didn’t hate me already.” Coulson turned to the sofa, where Alexia was lying, pale and clammy as she slept.

“Yeah, you’re hardly ‘Dad of the Year’ material on any front.” Stark snarked as he walked by, looking down at Alexia. “How is she sweating yet.” He placed a hand on her. “She’s normal temperature. JARVIS?”

“Ms Coulson is currently 96.8 Fahrenheit or 36 Celsius Sir.” The computer stated.

“So that’s not normal.” Stark stared at her for a moment.

“What is normal for her now?” Banner argued. “We have no idea.”

“I say we move her off the sofa and into a bedroom,” Coulson suggested.

“No, too dangerous, each room here has only one entrance and exit. If they come for her, we need more options.” Barnes growled.

“He’s right.” Barton agreed. “She is going to need one serious shower after all of this.”

X X X X X X

For three days Alexia only slept and ate. She felt as though she would never be clean again with her temperature fluctuating as she fought off the fever. Banner and Stark explained their findings to her, making her feel all the more isolated and alone. And any time Coulson tried to speak with her, Alexia would not pay much attention, stating she needed the bathroom or to get more rest.

“She is blaming me for all of this.” He stated in frustration to the only one who really listened to him still, Agent Hill.

“No, she doesn’t; she actually is getting annoyed you keep bringing that up,” Romanov informed him as she walked into the kitchen, Hill nodding in agreement.

“Apparently you are making her issue ‘all about you’,” Hill informed him.

“But I am the reason she is the way she is.”

“She doesn’t care, apparently there is no way to determine it happening before it does, it develops in adolescence so there is no way to check for it. It was simply chance, nothing else.” Romanov stated. “Stark has read everything SHIELD on file at the time of the Battle of New York, so he has concluded, as much as it is from your genes, there is nothing else you can take credit and/or blame for. Alexia’s avoidance of you is because of what happened when you went to the Tower, that’s all.” She turned to Hill. “She needs to go for a shower. You, Wanda and I are the only women here, so we have to help her.”

“She won’t like this, small enclosed space, no idea if they are coming for her,” Hill grumbled.

“Thor, Steve, Barnes, Sam and Loki are all taking up points inside and out to ensure she is secure. Also Tony has engineered a special silent radar set up so that nothing will come into a five-kilometre radius without being spotted. It is as secure as we can make it. But no, she isn’t too pleased.”

“Well, no time like the present. Phil, she is angry, but about how her situation is, not why.” Hill stated, placing a hand on his arm for a moment to comfort him.

Alexia insisted on walking to the bathroom herself, she was slightly unsteady on her feet, but a few days of rest and eating had perked her up. She was still weak from blood loss, but she was strong enough to stand unaided, so she was grateful for that. “I stink.” She groaned as she took off her t-shirt and string top at the same time while sitting on the toilet seat.

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t lie, Tasha, she’s been stinking up the house for two days,” Barton commented as he passed outside the bathroom door.

“Want me to give him nightmares?” The young woman called Wanda offered.

“No, that’s just Barton.” She smiled back. “But if he keeps it up, I may take you up on it.”

“Well, Pietro and I have to leave soon. They don’t know we are helping, so we are going to see what we can find out.” She explained, eyeing the green bruising on Alexia’s arm where the proof of the failed blood sample attempts was slowly fading.

“It’s not like they can catch you if they do realise,” Hill commented, earning a smile from the younger woman.

“No one catches Pietro.”

“What?”

“He runs, fast,” Wanda explained. “We are sort of like Captain Rogers; we offered to be experimented on to see what would happen.”

“At least you consented,” Alexia commented as she got to her feet in just her underwear.

“Guessing you want everyone to see you in your birthday suit, we’ll wait outside with the guys.” Hill and Wanda left, leaving Romanov in the corner, sitting on the toilet seat cover flicking through a National Geographic.

“Are you…?”

“Staying, yes. The shower isn’t see through and you need someone here in case you faint or if there is a sneak attack.” The red head replied.

“Well, at least I can trust you.”

“What makes you so sure?” The idea the girl could trust her made Natasha curious.

“You hate guys thinking they can take you, and will gladly prove them wrong.” She shrugged, turning on the water. Romanov smiled to herself as Alexia got into the shower, moaning in delightful pleasure as the water hit her skin.

She took far longer than she really needed too, cherishing the clean feeling after everything that happened. The warm water caused her to become somewhat cheerful.

“Are you alright?” Romanov asked, somewhat perturbed by the giggles coming from the shower.

“I just really needed this,” Alexia replied, looking around her for the conditioner. When she found it, she poured some into her hand, cursing the falling water for diluting it and causing some of it to begin to slide around. As she found herself trying to get it to her hair without getting any more water in it, the water seemed to move. Staring at the shower head, it seemed to be remaining the same, so she put it down to a trick of her mind. She lathered on the product and began to wash her body as she allowed the conditioner to soak. Again the water was annoying her in the small cubicle as she tried to wash different parts of herself. Bending forward to wash her lower legs and ankles, she realised the water was not falling in her, but around her. Looking up she gasped. It was as though the water was being parted by an invisible force above her.

“Alex, you alright?” Romanov asked.

“Yeah, just…”

“Just what?” She could hear Romanov getting off the seat.

“Nothing, just give me another minute.”

“Well you’ve made it as humid as hell in here, so don’t take much longer.”

“Sure, sorry.” She continued to look at the parted water, while wondering how she would get her hair washed now it was not falling on her. A moment later, the water fell as it should once more, soaking her and causing her to curse as the conditioner washed out of her hair and into her eyes.

“Alexia.”

“Damn, sorry, just got conditioner in my eyes.”

“You sure you are alright?”

“Yeah, just give me a towel to clean them off.” The assassin handed her the towel, which after Alex finished washing herself, she used to dry her eyes before drying herself. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Romanov looked into the shower suspiciously.

Alexia said no more as she got into the spare clothes that someone of the Avengers seemed to have procured from somewhere for her and went back outside.

“I thought you were after dissolving or something.” Barton quipped as she re-entered the living area.

“I was in close proximity to you for three days, it takes a long time to wash off that much stink.” She retorted.

“Oh, that’s cold.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “Wow, mature.”

“Well better than using my middle finger as you seem obsessed with doing.”

“Yeah yeah.” Stark entered the room holding a small vial of fluid. “The twins are gone to see what they can find out,” Barton informed him.

“Good, until then, this.” He handed the vial to Alexia. “Should increase your natural regeneration of blood.”

“Do I drink it?” She asked looking at it.

“No, you look at it and hope osmosis comes into effect. Yes, you drink it, and it tastes like crap.” He warned.

“Does anything you ever take to rectify your own reckless behaviour ever taste good?” She scoffed.

“Nope, otherwise I would continue to do the reckless things, to begin with. Penance isn’t supposed to taste good.”

It was as vile as he said it would be. “How long will it take to work?”

“Results within twenty-four hours, your blood loss should be only at ten percent then, so you should be as good as new.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime kid. I mean it.” He gave her a small smile and a wink before turning around and walking out of the room.

“He acts like such an ass,” Wilson commented.

“It’s a defence mechanism, his ability to deal with emotions is severely stunted, like to the point of crippling, but he is actually good, deep down.” Alexia smiled.

“Ooh, I see there was accidental lesbian kissing at the premier last night, and me not there to see it.” Came stark’s voice from down the hall.

“Really, really deep down.” She reiterated.

[glenngaylord]

WHAT WAS I THINKING? (Vol. 1)  - My Stunned Look Back at BLACK WIDOW (1 Star)

Sometimes a film hits you at the just right time in your life and resonates more than it would at any other.  The opposite may also be true in that you may love something you initially found worthless. CRASH won the 2004 Best Picture Oscar and now seems to offend more than impress. Every now and then, I like to take a look back at a film and see if I feel the same, to see if the additional life experience, development of taste, or change in how storytelling has evolved has influenced my take on it.  So, when time permits, I’m gonna reassess a film from the past in my WHAT WAS I THINKING? column.  

First up, the 1987 “thriller”, BLACK WIDOW.  I stumbled across the film on NETFLIX and the listing alone made me smile.  I recalled how excited I was to see it, mostly because I was a huge fan of Debra Winger.  She had been riding high off of a stunning string of hits, URBAN COWBOY, AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN, and most impressively, TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.  I considered her my favorite living actor due to the wild, goofy ease she had with her emotions and her husky frog croak of a voice.  It also didn’t hurt that Bob Rafelson had made the classic FIVE EASY PIECES and was brought on to direct here from a script by newcomer Ronald Bass, who would go on to write RAIN MAN and MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING.  Theresa Russell, on the other hand, always amused me, but for all the wrong reasons.  Just watch WHORE from 1991.  While I couldn't take my eyes off of her, I was never sure if she could act or not.  She tends to go all snippy in scenes requiring anger and her seductive techniques usually involved going all snippy. In sincere moments, she goes all snippy.  Therefore, Theresa Russell is VERY snippy.  

Regardless, I bought my opening weekend ticket.  The poster tagline read: SHE MATES AND SHE KILLS.  Ridiculous for sure, but this film had Oscar firepower involved.  But, sometimes great filmmakers make terrible movies.  I hated the film at the time, but couldn’t put my finger on why, except that I thought it fell flat. It appeared to have all of the elements in place - multiple murders, a cat and mouse game between a federal agent and a serial killer, a big studio budget complete with location shoots in New York, Dallas, Seattle and Hawaii - but it felt completely undercooked.  

Having seen it now through a different lens, it’s still terrible, but I’m much better able to articulate why:

THE PLOT:  Debra Winger plays Alexandra, a Department of Justice Investigator stuck behind a desk and anxious to get out there in the world.  She stumbles upon a series of murders and finds the common element in a mysterious woman (Russell) who seems to change her appearance as she marries and kills one rich husband after another.  Needing concrete evidence, she locates and befriends her, making the case even more complex.  Will she be able to separate her affection for this woman long enough to trap her, or is she merely the “Black Widow’s” next victim?

MY CONCERNS: I’ll express these in bullet points because they’re all over the map and I dread the idea of constructing coherent paragraphs about this claptrap:

- Not one murder happens on camera.  NOT ONE!  We see, at best, two minutes of footage with each husband, followed by Russell injecting Brandy bottles with poison, and then we just cut to another scene to find out he’s dead. In today’s cinema, each kill would be different and spectacular.  As it stands, all the good stuff gets discussed after the fact. 

- The 80s were a strange time for women to find equal footing in male-dominated professions, because men just weren’t used to not being able to make women fetch them coffee and take a memo while ogling their breasts. Nothing like that happens here, but one co-worker treats her like she’s an idiot and tells her to go fuck herself.  That would at least necessitate an intense meeting with HR followed by mandatory sensitivity trainings.

- There’s some vaguely lesbian subtext going on.  Winger meets cute with Russell at a Hawaiian scuba class and practices mouth-to-mouth on her, and later they share a quick, odd kiss.  Today, they would be scissoring the fuck out of each other until we didn’t know if orange was the new black or if blue was the warmest color. 

- Winger tries to muster up some energy in a few early scenes, but at some point, she clearly gives up and resorts to a flat monotone for most of the film. The terrible script doesn’t help.  Russell, on the flip side, gets more manic, falling back on instincts to screech and overact that she clearly learned during her bizarre and inappropriate 7th grade production of WHO’S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?

- At one point, Winger gifts Russell with a jewel-encrusted pendant of a spider. Russell responds, “A Black Widow.  She mates and she kills.”  She literally gives us the movie title and tagline all in one fell swoop.  You can’t write this stuff.  No, I mean, Ronald Bass, you can’t write this stuff!

- James Hong plays a Private Investigator both Winger and Russell hire at different times.  To say he’s a more offensive racial stereotype than Mickey Rooney’s performance in BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S would be kind.

- Russell seems to have no problem meeting and marrying an assortment of men in quick succession.  Sure she’s beautiful, but did nobody flake on people in 1987?!!!  Seriously, I can’t get anyone to show up on a date, yet she has 50 husbands!  Yes, this is all about me, I know!

- Actors such as Dennis Hopper, Diane Ladd, Nicol Williamson, and Mary Woronov show up for  what amount to useless one-scene cameos, adding absolutely nothing to the film.  Was THE LOVE BOAT overbooked at the time?

- Nobody ever wants to talk to the press in movies like this.  They always walk by a parade of cameras saying, “No comment”. 

- Before cell phones and GOOGLE, tracking down suspects took a lot of work. Debra Winger is a saint for following around a dangerous woman from ferrys to hotels to Hawaii!  Why doesn’t she get a knighting ceremony at the end like those STAR WARS characters got?  All that traipsing around gets so laborious to watch, and remember, they refuse to show one murder!!

- Russell’s Hawaii paramour wants to build a hotel in the shadow of an active volcano.  Who would do that?  It’s a terrible idea. 

- People stand very close to each other’s faces when revealing damning information.  I would choose a safer remove, preferably close to a desk I can hide behind or a Kevlar vest I could slip on.

CONCLUSION: It’s said that the major studios won’t make very many adult dramas anymore.  Now I know why.