#No one warns you how lonely it is being a lesbian

[silverthelovebug]

Just went through the most C.A. Cupid experience ever don’t even chat to me‼️‼️

[alottiegoingon]

hc!friends to lovers

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with lottie

warnings: lottie mentioned as lesbian once, pure fluff, nsfw at the bottom so MDNI there, not proofread

this was a request so i hope you enjoy it 🤞

@l0tt1emy this is me tagging youu

WHEN FRIENDS

୨୧ being friends with lottie matthews would include spend your saturday night on her huge house (more like a mansion to you) when her parents were out for work or just so busy that they wouldn't even notice you there

୨୧ you didn't know that, but she would spend the entire day thinking about you when it was a sleepover night

୨୧ sleepovers would be a casual thing for you and it was your favorite moment of the day cause lottie would turn it into a fashion show to model her new clothes for you

୨୧ speaking of it, you would constantly find yourself waiting in fitting rooms and their uncomfortable seats when lottie was trying on thousands of clothes just to buy (steal) one or two

୨୧ "do you think it looks too pink?" lottie comes out from behind the curtains to display the outfit she was trying on, featuring a fluffy pink cropped cardigan with short sleeves paired with a high-waisted, pink skirt that features vertical stripes

୨୧ "no, you look perfect," you say softly, eyes filled with affection while feeling a nervous flutter stirs in your stomach

୨୧ in parties, you would usually stick to her side and even though lottie wasn't extremely popular, people knew who she was. either because her parents had loads of money or cause, let's be honest, she fucking was stunning

୨୧ when offering to get her a drink and she would look at you with those pretty eyes and nod like "okay :)))"

୨୧ if you were part of the yellowjackets, during jackie's idea of telling the girls what you admire about them, you would DEF make her blush on purpose

୨୧ "lottie matthews..." you say lightheartedly and she's already screaming internally "you have the prettiest hair i’ve ever seen and a great fashion sense. and, yeah, you suck at french but you are so good at soccer and you have the biggest and kindest heart ever"

୨୧ and she's giggling and nervously rocking from side to side with her cheeks matching the color of her clothes

୨୧ lottie was a lonely kid and since her parents were always away, she would be taken care of by maids and housekeepers so she was easily anxious when speaking to people her age. luckyfor her, she would hide it quite well and the mean and cutesy lesbian in her would mask it greatly

୨୧ "does someone want to tell kelly kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fսcking up nationals?" lottie was mumbling in front of the mirror, fixing her bangs and makeup and you were ready to agree with anything she said

୨୧ "i know right?" but you didn't even know what kelly kapowski had said

୨୧ putting her money to good use, one of her favorite ways to show you how grateful she was for your friendship was to buy you things. not like once or twice but ALL. THE. TIME.

୨୧ books, vhs tapes of your favorite movies, vinyl, a cute dress you mentioned once, nice shoes, stuffed animals, things that reminded her of you. all you can possibly think of!!!

୨୧ "lot, you didn't have to. this must have cost a fortune!" and it's just her standing at your front door, hidden behind a huge teddy bear she bought for your birthday and a brand new walkman

୨୧ one night, when lottie's parents were home, she sneaked you in and you almost fell to your death when climbing the walls like fucking spider-man and getting to her room through the window but her perfume lingering around made everything worthy when she hugged you

୨୧ "thank you for coming, i know it's late," she lies in bed and tap the empty space beside her for you to join her. "it's okay, i was just watching a movie. i'm glad you called me"

୨୧ 'movie’ you said, but the flashback of you sleeping buried under the covers and snoring like an old guy comes to your mind...

୨୧ i feel like lottie would have a hard time opening up to people and letting them in but if they were genuine, she would trust them. but def insecure about telling you about her visits to the psychiatrist cause we all know she's just a silly girl with a few issues...

୨୧ but you were so respectful, reassuring and understanding to her that she doesn't feel ashamed or judged

୨୧ during that specific night when you were just hanging around together in her bed and talking about life, an accidental graze of her nose on yours led to an awkward moment that led to awkward giggles and an awkward and messy kiss and this was all you needed to call her your girlfriend

WHEN DATING

୨୧ even when dating, lottie would often feel insecure and ask you for help. reassuring her and telling her that there she wasn't broken and there was nothing wrong with her was something you always had to do but it didn't bother you at all. you were lottie's biggest worshiper and could spend hours just telling her how BADLY you loved her

୨୧ hear me out. lottie was a big fan of holding hands. you could be in class, watching a movie, reading together, talking with your group of friends, and even eating, but she was ALWAYS staring at you with pleading eyes and her palm facing up, extended in your direction, ready for you to hold her hand

୨୧ if you think she spoiled you too much already, you better take a seat cause that girl would show up at your place with presents all the time. "i know we agreed on saving money but i know how badly you wanted these..." you're speechless when she gives you something you really wanted

୨୧ but you can't get mad, you just thank her and kiss her adorable pout :(

୨୧ loves loves LOVES to give you small gifts as well like a pretty shell she found when going to the beach once or even her ENTIRE shell collection

୨୧ strongly believe that she would be the greatest big spoon ever and would love to cuddle you but doesn’t complain if you want to hold her

୨୧ lottie is TALL. a three would be afraid of her! im 100% convinced that she would put your stuff in a place you can't reach so you have to ask her for help. "baby, are you busy? can you get that for me?" and she's fighting demons to maintain her composure, resisting the urge to smile as she handles you the book she had just tucked away on the top shelf

୨୧ over protective lottie!!! she isn’t exactly jealous cause she trusted you a lot but is always around and keeping you in her sight. she has her arm around you all the time, drives you EVERYWHERE (makes her driver do that), and is always ready to defend you

୨୧ oh the many things that happened in the backseat that the poor driver had to ignore...

୨୧ if the crash had happened, one single mumble of yours about how hungry you were was ENOUGH for her to call nat and travis out. "lottie, there's no food. we looked everywhere!" "look harder!"

NSFW (MDNI)

୨୧ lottie spoils you with cute gifts but she’s not innocent. she would buy you the prettiest lingerie in the store just to fuck you in those 🤭

୨୧ she would adore when you face ride her. she just can’t resist to your moans and soft noises or how you feel so shy and dirty about it but just can’t stop. she loves to feel your legs around her face

୨୧ in fact, i’m a strong believer that she could just cum by hearing you moan her name. you can’t believe your eyes when you feel her nails dig into your thighs and lottie desperately closing her legs and rubbing them together, groaning into your pussy :(

୨୧ big fan of overstimulating you!!! holding your hips to keep you riding her face or her strap if she’s under you or rubbing your clit even after you made a mess on her fingers just to watch you squirm and cry for her 🤓

୨୧ i’ve mentioned this before BUT fucking you against a mirror in dressing rooms? she’s all in. even better if she’s fucking you from behind with a strap AND forcing you look at your messy and humiliating reflection in the mirror

୨୧ now when it comes to her, she loves when you suck her but keep your eyes on hers. eye contact is!!!! her fingers go crazy in your hair, pulling and holding so tight that it hurts but you don’t give a damn about it

୨୧ she wouldn't ever say no but she prefers to have her time with you instead of quickies. im a lottie hopeless romantic truther!!!

୨୧ i feel like she's not really loud when you're eating her out or fucking her, she just moans your name and lets lots of soft, weak and breathy noises and whimpers out 😵‍💫

[ur-mousey]

class of 09 Nicole x Yan! reader + smut (i can never find any good ones for Nicole and i love ur writing)

Behind Pom Poms and Bongs ~

- Nicole x Yan! F! Reader! -

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warning lesbian smut, implied stalking + harassment, toxic relationship

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You will fill the role of a missing stereotype in the Class of 09' roster. A goodie-two-shoe drama geek beat you in that lineup. #thereup.

Now, it's time to re-up the re-up. So take your pick, which will you be;

** Choice ** Be the 2000's femcel version of Jeffery, Or be anything cooler -Cheer captain perhaps? * click *

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Imagine! Yourself lone in thought but surrounded on all sides. Those school assholes blended into the backdrop while you performed like a small puppet attached to strings. Westerburg High cheered above the haze of yellow poms while you saw below it, your hands shook in the air. It was warm, but you swore you saw your breath misting and mingling like on frigid nights.

Your eyes darted over familiar faces, none of whom were Nicole's. It's possible she didn't show, despite your invitation.

She never had before.

This stalemate was getting tiresome. Neither of you were giving in to the other. And despite your warnings, Nicole ignored your advances, accusing you of being crazy. You didn't see whatever she saw within you. That 'thing' she deemed worse than the voice in her head.

But, no matter, that's fixable.

Imagine! Stepping forward, one hand on your hip while the other cup the rim of your mouth. You tilt your head left and then right, hopping side to side. You begin to belt the school's chant through the base of your belly, "Hey Yo Westerburg!"

And a hundred or so souls sang back unto you:

"Tell me what's that sound~ Here comes Westerburg! Comin' to put you in the ground. Go go, Westerburg, give a great big L.

Westerburg will knock you out and send you straight to hell!"

Cheer is from Heathers, look it up!

And, damn, did Nicole send you there, straight to hell. Wouldn't your parents be proud? Oh, how this stalemate bored. You wanted to play with your food before taking a bite. And now she's turning cold.

Distant. Tired. Waiting for you to lift her up with a fork.

Imagine! Nicole's captivated the hearts of Westerburg High. She is what you would call a 'mythic bitch.' Midnight locks cascaded past her shoulders framing milky freckled skin. She adorned plump lips and stunning azure eyes as bright as the noon sky. Then there was her no giving a fuck attitude. Sexy. Dom in nature.

Jeffery admitted that he wanted to kidnap and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave her tied up for the rats.

But he can't have her. Can he now?

Imagine! Yourself back on the field. You never left. Your thoughts led you astry for a moment too long. "Capt, get your mind outta Nicole's ass." Alyssa bumped your shoulder.

"How did you-"

"It's all over your face! Makeup with your girlfriend later, you've been actin' strange all week."

You chuckled, shimming your poms to the sly aura of night. "Aye aye, sure thing." You step up whistling at the crowd. Your team dispersed across the field's shoulder in preparation for tumbling sequences.

'Let's keep this short and sweet,' You thought as you discarded your pom-poms to the side before taking your running start. You wanted Nicole here with you, watching from amongst the crowd. Everything spun severely in a flash. You performed a cartwheel back handspring into a full back tuck, and you stuck the landing.

What a perfect routine. You flashed a killer smile, rushing towards the mustard-colored poms. Twiddling the twins in the air, you scream the starting chant all over. "Go go, Westerburg!"

And what yelled back at you was only disappointing. Now, this was true hell.

Imagine! Time flies and you're hanging off the arm of Kylar who won the final points, securing the victory for Westerburg High. You follow his strides with solemn steps. Faking a giggle here and there to every joke about fucking whores and killing bitches. If only he'd put a bullet through your head.

You scrolled on your phone as you tumbled down the dirt road after the other pom squad members and lacrosse bros. Nicole kept quiet online. She hardly posts on Facebook whereas Miss Jecka was akin to a virus overloading your feed.

That bitch has no life except for perching herself on the arm of your... girlfriend -as Alyssa put it. Therefore you knew Nicole was here at the end of the ravine. It's time to end this lover's quarrel.

Imagine! Music bouncing off the canyon walls. It echoed above drunk students losing their wits. You peeked overheads on tippy toes while off-quilter rants jumbled into one. Boys swayed into your frame. Red solos floated on top of the river bed. Girls slinked their arms with the likes of yours. All while Beer bottles were smashed into rocks near a set of kegs.

"To a night well deserved!" The pom squad girls dispersed around the drink table. Each girl had a shot and left with a concoction of liquored punch. Undrinkable. Yet you still took trepid sips.

The liquid courage was appreciated.

Alyssa squealed, "Nicole up ahead. Go show her that you are one hot toxic bitch that deserves her attention." You couldn't say it better.

"Right as always." You ripped your orange scrunchie out of your hair. The early April breeze fluffed out your curls. You adjusted your crop halter top and tight mini-skirt. "Wish me luck.'

You trekked onwards. The liquid courage burning a hole in your liver. Tonight ends those lonely days.

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segment starring = Nicle & Jecka + an army of side hoes = Ari, Emily and Kelly

Imagine! Nicole leaning into the plump thighs of Jecka's. She wanted to take a chomp out of it solely for revenge. The skank couldn't leave her phone stashed in her back pocket. The ravine ran long but not far and you were on the hunt. And with photos of your prey updated by the minute, why wouldn't you attack?

"Jec, you are a major slut." Nicole lisps through another coughing fit. The smoke expelled but the effects lingered. The stars blurred wistly with the clouds. The moon showed itself somber over the crowd. Or just her -the only one who mattered in this town.

"Why? Because you're about to get fucked?" Jecka pinched the blue-eyed brunette. Snapping another candid photo for her Facebook.

Nicole swatted at her hand. "I will fucking bite you."

Imagine! Ari thinks that she was allowed to contribute to the convo. But obviously, her imput wasn't warranted.

- Love Nicole

"It's kinda insane to see Nicole this worked up. Isn't she just another bitch obsessed? You attract them by the dozen," Ari quipped.

Nicole rolled her eyes and blew hot air from her nose. "This hoe isn't trashy, that's my problem. Unlike you, Ari, who's a walking barcode -mind you. She actually has a life. A great one at that. It doesn't make sense why. Her liking me is an anomaly in itself. If you were following me around... sniffing my underwear, I wouldn't think twice."

"She did that?" Emily whispered to Kelly who was in the middle of a prolonged drag.

"Sheesh walked on a landmine," Ari mumbled.

Nicole bolted upright, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. She ruffled her messy pony. "And I wouldn't be this stressed if Miss little Jecka would stop updating her follower count of 20."

Jecka twirled her hair, "I'll have you know the whole school follows me."

"Hence only 30 matters." Nicole snatched the bong. She cradled the thing to her chest. Taking in all of its embrace.

"Mhm, if that's true, our lovely cheer captain is among them!"

"Fuck you too."

Imagine! As Nicole spoke so did you. "What about me?"

The air stilled. Emily offered you a spot between her and Ari, who sat in envy of your attire. Kelly nicked your leg with a painted talon while Jecka beamed at you through false lashes. "Join us, Westerburg!"

"Double fuck you," Nicole whispered.

"Ha- No thanks, pink polo." You looked at the brunette who shifted her gaze down. "Can we talk Nicole? Alone? Let's get outta here."

"Get fucked first."

Falling to your knees, you leaned over her shoulder. "Sure. How so? I'll do anything~ Maybe I should take that as a suggestion."

"No no no. Okay, let's go. We're leaving."

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** Choice ** Bring the bong along, Or make good on Nicole's promise? Maybe both? * click *

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Imagine! The encompassing smell of incense, lavender, and ragwort, mingling with the sour-skunk tinge of weed. You exhaled and desired fresh air. But, the sensational burn singed the hair in your nose. There was no space outside of this bedroom, Nicole's room. You laid down, admiring the art piece you had sprawled on the floor.

Nicole's ass was reddened and bruised along the expanse where her thigh continued down. She was too proud to cry. And through every strike, she goaded you on.

"I'm like your... Dom now?" You whispered, "Is that what you want. I could be a more, like a girlfriend. You would hate that too."

"Why would it matter what you are to me? I dated Ari for less. I could do the same for you. I'll be your damn girlfriend until you get tired of it."

"That's not what I want, babe. I want you to need this. We've done it- this- over and over. Same results. It's insanity. We fuck, make up then you push me away. Ignore me, call me crazy. Then I play hide-&-seek with the skank's Facebook. Gotta thank Jecka for that."

Nicole swung her head around, "You're right. And after you find me, I get an ass whooping, and this lecture. Then we fuck. There! The shit cycle repeats. And each time, you leave, you think we're good. Fuck. You."

"We could be good. What can I do to make you see that."

"How come you're this crazy? You have everything going for you. Why would you need some screwup bitch? My dad killed himself because of me. Hello~"

Imagine! You stalked over heaps of clothing scattered in a hazardous display. "I'm not crazy. I fell in love," You began. You kissed the top of Nicole's head, bringing her face into the curve of your neck. "We are soulmates, you and I. And I want to protect you."

She huffed and her lips moved against your skin. "I don't get it. There has to be something you could tell me other than that."

"When I first saw you, I thought you didn't need saving. You had your shit together more than I did. At least you knew who you were. There were times when I felt hollow, and nothing mattered. My mind would shut off and my body would run on autopilot. And when I met you, a switch flipped, and every choice I made became clear. The fog never took over again when I thought of you. Maybe I wanted to be like you. You're confident whereas I pretend. Also I don't plant to die on you."

"You know I'm a socio right. What you said was pretty." She paused and looked you in the eyes. "I just- don't care enough."

You nod, "And I'm there too. I don't care if you break up with me. You could do it every day and we'll end up here. We'll fuck and make up. I don't want it to be that way. We could be as happy as we can. I could save you. We're both broken. We'll fix each other."

Imagine! Pillowy soft lips danced around yours. Your clit stung with the pressure of being rubbed against another. Nicole mewled over a punk guitar rift meant to distract her perv brother. You bucked your hips in a circular motion. Tingles traveled to your palpitating heart.

Every word you thought to say other than her name came out as a hitch. You grinded faster, belly churning with the desire to release.

You felt the pent-up energy ready to gush all over Nicole's pussy. A disaster you've become. Your lips encased hers. You knocked teeth and bit her tongue. You captured her pleas and brought your finger to her chest. Her nipples peaked and hard. You never stopped rolling your sex into hers.

You whined, pained with the longing to cum. You straightened your back, rolling longer strokes against her entrance. Nicole buried her face into a stuffed bear she kept close. Her moans slipped muffled out into the open. Her arms flailed from the top of her head to the dips in your hips. She needed to grasp onto something. Anything.

You took her hands into yours. You'll get through this together.

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

See more of what's in store at July Projects.

Happy Pride despite being July. Work has been working me. Yes ma'am! I hope that you enjoy @they1ove-kaiya!!

[weemssapphic]

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust. 

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it? 

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example. 

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her… 

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp  - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist. 

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this. 

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat. 

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat. 

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening. 

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,” you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter. 

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra. 

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied. 

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.” 

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan. 

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin. 

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting. 

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss. 

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

x

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[geotjwrs]

I would like to request one with jealousy and angst, but with a happy ending.

Jenna and the reader are dating and sometimes when Jenna is filming the reader accompanies it, most of the time the reader cannot due to confidentiality.

When Jenna was filming 'Finestkind,' Jenna made sure the reader was present in all of her kissing scenes with her co-star, simply to annoy him, to make him jealous (Jenna and the reader have that game of annoying each other), And it did make the reader jealous, since those scenes were not only filmed once, they had to do several takes.

While the reader watches the scene being filmed, he feels several things, including a lot of jealousy and a little insecurity, since Jenna has never kissed the reader with such intensity and passion. The reader decides to tell Jenna how he feels about this 'joke' but decides to let it go as he doesn't want to ruin anything.

The same thing happens the following year with the movie 'Millers Girl' And it's not the scenes with Martin Freeman (well, a little) but the lesbian kissing scene with Gideon Adlon, Just like in Finestkind, the kiss scene between Jenna and Gideon was repeated several times and each time was more intense and sensual making the reader feel more jealous than in the movie Finestkind, especially because of the ship they give to Jenna and Gideon after photos that came out of the two of them together, while the reader sees how many times they film the kissing scene, he feels more than jealous, but the reader decides not to let Jenna notice his annoyance, and Jenna, seeing that she did not achieve her goal with the reader, decides to take things up a notch and summons the reader to her trailer. When the reader arrives and enters, he sees Jenna and Gideon sitting in an armchair facing each other kissing passionately, while she continues kissing Gideon Jenna sees the reader out of the corner of her eye and gives him a look, but it doesn't go as planned since she sees how the reader has a hurt look and he leaves there quickly.

Jenna realizes that she made a mistake and apologizes to Gideon and goes to chase the reader, she can't find him anywhere and realizes that he left there (the filming location) and she spends almost the entire day seeing the places where they usually spend their time until she finds him in a lonely park, it is clear that the reader has been crying, then Jenna sits next to him and begins to apologize to him deeply, they talk about it and the reader forgives her and they decide to stop the jokes for now.

Please and thank you.

insecurities

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; reader is insecure

The soft hum of the engine was the only sound in the car as you and Jenna made your way to the filming location. Jenna was in high spirits, animatedly chatting about the scenes she would be filming today for "Finestkind." You nodded along, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You loved Jenna's passion for her work, but it was hard not to feel a twinge of insecurity whenever she had intimate scenes with her co-stars.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Jenna asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her dark eyes were filled with concern, a stark contrast to her earlier enthusiasm.

"Of course," you replied, forcing a smile. "It's just acting, right?"

Jenna nodded, but you could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. She reached over and squeezed your hand, a gesture meant to reassure you. "I promise, it's just a scene. Besides, I like having you there. It makes me feel more comfortable."

As you arrived on set, you were greeted by the hustle and bustle of the crew preparing for the day's shoot. Jenna was quickly whisked away for hair and makeup, leaving you to find a spot where you could watch the action. You settled into a chair behind the monitors, close enough to see everything but far enough to avoid getting in the way.

The scene Jenna was filming today was a kissing scene with her co-star. You had been dreading it all morning, but you tried to push your feelings aside. It was just a part of her job, you reminded yourself.

As the cameras started rolling, you watched Jenna and her co-star move closer together. Your heart clenched as their lips met, the kiss lasting longer than you anticipated. When the director called for another take, you felt a pang of jealousy. And then another take. And another.

By the time they finished the scene, you were barely holding it together. Jenna made her way over to you, a mischievous smile on her face. "How was that?" she asked, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You forced a laugh. "Great. Really convincing."

Jenna's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Good. I wanted to make sure it looked real."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say more. The rest of the day passed in a blur, your mind replaying the scene over and over. You knew Jenna was just trying to tease you, but it still hurt.

A year later, you found yourself in a similar situation. Jenna was filming "Millers Girl," and this time, the scenes were even more intense. It wasn't just the scenes with Martin Freeman that bothered you; it was the kissing scenes with Gideon Adlon that really got under your skin.

Once again, you found yourself on set, watching as Jenna and Gideon shared passionate kisses. Each take seemed more intense than the last, and you could feel your jealousy growing with every passing moment. The ship between Jenna and Gideon had gained traction online, and seeing them together only fueled your insecurities.

You tried to keep your feelings hidden, but Jenna seemed determined to push your buttons. During one particularly intense scene, you saw her glance in your direction, a small smile playing on her lips. It was as if she was daring you to react.

After the shoot, Jenna invited you to her trailer. You hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to go. As you entered, you were met with a sight that made your heart drop. Jenna and Gideon were sitting on the couch, kissing passionately. Jenna's eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of realization in her gaze as she noticed the hurt look on your face.

Without a word, you turned and left, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. You didn't know where you were going, but you needed to get away. The jealousy and insecurity you had been trying to suppress came crashing down on you, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

You wandered aimlessly for hours, ending up in a quiet park where you and Jenna often spent time together. The memories of happier times only made you feel worse, and you sank onto a bench, burying your face in your hands.

It was nearly dusk when you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up to see Jenna standing there, her face etched with worry. She slowly sat down next to you, her presence a comforting familiarity in the midst of your turmoil.

"Y/N," she began softly, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

You remained silent, staring at the ground. Jenna reached out and gently touched your arm, prompting you to look at her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and you could see the genuine regret in her expression.

"I thought it was just a game," she continued. "I didn't realize how much it was affecting you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Jenna, I love you, but this... this teasing, it's too much. Seeing you kiss other people like that, it makes me feel... inadequate."

Jenna's tears spilled over, and she squeezed your hand tightly. "I love you too, Y/N. I was so stupid. I should have seen how it was hurting you. Please, forgive me. I promise I'll never do anything like that again."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity in her plea. The love you felt for her was stronger than the pain, and you knew you couldn't hold a grudge forever. "I forgive you, Jenna. But we need to communicate better. We can't keep hurting each other like this."

Jenna nodded, a small smile breaking through her tears. "Agreed. No more games. Just us, being honest with each other."

You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the weight of your emotions begin to lift. As you held her, you knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but you were willing to work through it together.

The days following your reconciliation were filled with heartfelt conversations and a renewed sense of understanding. Jenna made a conscious effort to include you in her world without crossing boundaries that made you uncomfortable. You both agreed to put an end to the teasing games, focusing instead on building a stronger, more trusting relationship.

Jenna's filming schedule remained demanding, but she found ways to reassure you. Whenever she had to film an intimate scene, she would talk to you about it beforehand, making sure you were okay with it. Your insecurities didn't disappear overnight, but knowing that Jenna was sensitive to your feelings made a world of difference.

One evening, as you were lounging on the couch together, Jenna turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "Y/N, I've been thinking. Maybe we should go on a trip, just the two of us. Somewhere we can relax and forget about everything for a while."

You smiled, the idea of a getaway sounding perfect. "I think that's a great idea. Where should we go?"

Jenna's eyes lit up with excitement. "How about the mountains? We could rent a cabin, go hiking, and just enjoy each other's company."

The thought of spending uninterrupted time with Jenna, away from the pressures of her career and your worries, was incredibly appealing. "That sounds amazing. Let's do it."

A few weeks later, you found yourselves in a cozy cabin nestled in the mountains. The crisp air and serene surroundings provided the perfect backdrop for reconnecting and healing. You spent your days exploring the trails, cooking together, and talking late into the night by the fireplace.

One evening, as you sat on the porch watching the sunset, Jenna turned to you with a soft smile. "Thank you for forgiving me, Y/N. I know I messed up, but I'm so grateful we could work through it."

You took her hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "Thank you for understanding and being willing to change. I love you, Jenna, and I'm glad we're in this together."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, a reminder of the bond you shared.

The trip ended up being just what you both needed. By the time you returned home, your relationship felt stronger and more secure. Jenna's filming continued, but the changes in how you communicated and supported each other made all the difference.

Whenever insecurities crept in, you reminded yourself of the progress you had made and the love you shared. Jenna's playful teasing was replaced with genuine moments of connection and reassurance, and your jealousy gradually faded into trust.

[weemsfreak]

The Only One

Hi ya'll, happy pride month!!

Sorry for being mia, I have been quite busy with school and also working on this (slowly) all of June. I was unsure of the vibes I wanted this story to give, as I have been feeling confused(?) as of late, and for some reason June has brought many feelings and a couple crap experiences that I wanted to incorporate into here. I did make the story hopeful toward the end, but I just wanted to say that if anyone feels this way, you are not alone!

Calling our Lesbian Headmistress to help make the confusing and lonely times a bit better with a pride event. I know not everybody likes to celebrate pride in this way, but I thought it was cute.

Larissa Weems x studentreader (platonic) ~4.6k words

Part of my 'All the Time' series, based on reader being a lesbian but struggles with her sexuality and falls for her straight friend (canon experience ;))

Warnings: partially closeted, mention of family not understanding, self reflection (internalized homophobia/being proud)

༻༺

Nobody ever talks about how lonely it is, being queer in a small town.

The lack of representation, of places to go, and people to meet. The sliver of hope that you will feel safe if you decide to venture, if you decide to try.

Her with him and him with her and 'girl crush' this and 'man crush' that.

But all in all, you thought that perhaps the worst of it all was the feeling of being the only one.

You listen to songs that describe other places, places you wish your mother would tell you to go.

You know she wants you to stay, but you can't ignore the crazy visions of you in…well, somewhere that perhaps doesn't exist- or maybe it does.

Somewhere a different version of yourself could live; hopeful, happy, proud.

Your favorite movie, which makes you feel accepted, alive, is less than ten years old, even though you're a fan of old classic Hollywood.

You don't see yourself in them.

Many times before, you've heard people say 'it would be so much easier to be gay.'

They must've been joking, of course; but being gay was not a joke.

They joke about being gay but they've never wondered if their family would still love them.

They joke about being gay but they've never been scared of their friends abandoning them and talking behind their back.

They joke about being gay but they've never rejected a man with the reason of being interested in women, just for the man to ask if it's the truth, 'they could turn you', so they say.

They joke about being gay but they've never been the quiet one when others talked about boys.

They joke about being gay but they've never felt like they were disrespecting women because they found them attractive.

They joke about being gay but they've never been the outcast.

They joke about being gay but they've never worried about their loved ones not attending their wedding.

They joke about being gay but they've never pretended to like men to try and fit in with their peers.

They joke about being gay but they've never had nobody to talk to.

They joke about being gay but they've never had nobody to cry to.

They joke about being gay but they've never wished they were a boy, for the sole reason of a woman liking them back.

They joke about being gay but they've never had to love somebody in secret.

They joke about being gay but they'll never know what it feels like.

As bad as you felt, through the loneliness, the grief, the 'what ifs' and the doubt, it wasn't the fact of being queer that scared you, it wasn't that you weren't open, or accepting.

What did hurt though, was what came with it.

The fear of never finding someone, the fear of being rejected and harmed in public, the fear of never understanding how you really felt; the fear of feeling too deeply.

There have been times where you almost, almost, decided to leave it be.

'In another life' you said, shrugging your shoulders as a tear dripped down your cheek at the thought of faking it, and marrying a man.

But one day, you were reading a book dated from the 60s, when the realization hit you.

Years ago, regrettably not that many, you would not have the choice, you would not have the freedom.

And here you were, in the age of progression, hiding away in the land of heterosexuals.

You had a choice, you had freedom.

For the woman before you who were stuck in sham marriages, cried themselves to sleep, snuck around with another woman and feared for their life, for the women who raised children but not with whom they loved, for the women who had no such thing as freedom of choice.

You would not fake it, you would not hide, you would be your true self for them, and for you, regardless of the very possible fact that you could be the only queer in this small town.

༻༺

The headmistress stood outside of the chemistry classroom one gloomy morning, greeting students as they entered as your teacher always did.

You sauntered through the halls as you watched your peers and their modernistic and typical ways.

You weren't sure who's twisted idea it was, to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago…but you admired the sadism.

Opening your locker and retrieving your books, your sketchbook met the floor with an echo when a guy accidentally bumped into you.

"Oh crap, sorry Y/N"

You gave him a menacing look, before taking a breath and straightening yourself out.

"No worries."

His friend, who had shoved him into you, continued on to class as he spoke from down the hall. "C'mon man, leave the freak alone."

You expected him to continue on as well, but he didn't.

"How are things going?"

You'd likely be late for class if he kept the conversation up.

"A lot of this" you shrugged, pointing to your books.

"Yea, me too. The harvest festival is coming up though, I know you love the fall, and all things creepy."

You huffed in amusement, nodding your head.

"It’s nice to have things to look forward to."

He smiled and nodded, looking to his feet.

"Well, I'll see you there. Maybe I'll message you?"

You shook your head uninterested, not holding him to it.

"Sure."

Bending down to pick your sketchbook up off the floor, it was open to a doodle you had done which was rather, well, not appropriate for school.

Slamming your sketchbook shut, you stood and met your locker mirror; your own reflection, as well as the principals, smiling back at you.

Jump scare.

"Good morning, darling."

You spun around in surprise, staring wide eyed.

"Principal Weems, good morning."

She nodded as she looked at you in amusement, hoping to hide her true thoughts about your morning interactions.

"Where is Ms. Currie?"

The principal tilted her head at you, "Out today. I was notified last minute, so I'm your substitute."

Well, it was your lucky day.

The principal never failed to notice your…disinterest.

She didn't fail to notice the way some students picked on you, nor your lack of emotion; your presence of indifference towards men.

She saw herself in you, you were just like her.

That thought brought her both joy and pain.

༻༺

Sitting in the quad, you nervously twisted your fingers as you watched your friend approach.

You had heard, apparently, that it was a 'cannon lesbian experience' to have a crush on your friend.

Man were they right, and man, did it hurt.

She sat with a smile, though you could see that her attention was diverted.

"Hi."

"Hey Mar."

You swallowed, looking her in the eye across the table.

"I um, I was thinking, the Rave 'N is soon, maybe we could go together…"

Just then, you watched Gannon make his way to the table and sit beside your friend.

She squealed lightly, pulling him closer to her.

"Y/N, did I tell you Gannon and I are going to the Rave 'N together?!"

Your heart dropped, but it wasn't anything new, it wasn't at all surprising.

For you knew your friend liked men, but you had thought that maybe, well, you didn’t know; maybe there was hope that someone could be like you.

"Oh, uh, congratulations."

Your heart panged as they looked into each others eyes, smiling in anticipation.

"So, what were you talking about?"

You shook your head and let out a weak chuckle, quickly thinking of an excuse.

"I um, I was thinking maybe we could get ready for the Rave'N together, that could be fun."

Marcella smiled as she stood, linking her arm with Gannon's.

"Sure! I'll see you later!"

The principal, who supervised lunch in the quad, watched your rejection with disappointment and regret.

It dug deep, it brought back memories of her own time at Nevermore; the hate and the heartbreak that she felt, that you felt.

Sometimes, things never changed.

'I don't know if I believe the way I feel is real

And I often wonder if it is

Watching your friend dance with a guy

And pondering whether it's what she truly wishes

Should you step in, or leave her be?

You know you wouldn’t wish it, but does she?

It hurts a bit, a little, a lot; watching her dance so close to him

And maybe she'd dance with you like that too

But not in this life, no, not now,

For she's dancing with him, and you watch from the crowd'

༻༺

You knew it wasn’t the fault of your own; the despair, the regret, the loneliness.

But, you couldn't help but feel it when you were alone, so utterly alone, regardless of the fact that you could be surrounded by people.

They'd never understand the feeling of being so outcast, ironically, the feeling of being so different. The feeling of being told that how you felt was somehow wrong.

You felt it, you felt it wholeheartedly; and how could your heart be wrong?

Your parents, who never meant any harm, contradicted themselves.

Honestly, you couldn't exactly say how, but it hurt in a way that you didn't understand.

You thought maybe they were smarter, more knowledgeable, perhaps wiser than you.

They had always said that you could talk to them, but it was useless, as any attempt made you feel worse, not better.

They had been on this earth for sometime, however, surely they must've experienced the hate, and transformed themselves to some degree?

Wishful thinking.

They could never be so open.

And you think, maybe that's what hurt the most; wishing they could understand, wishing they would care enough to understand.

Alas, wishing was useless.

There were nights where you prayed for an older, wiser being to cry to. Someone who could tell you what to do and how to feel, someone who would listen, someone who would care.

Someone who would see you. Someone who understood, because they felt it themself.

༻༺

You made every attempt to be true to yourself.

To not lie, to let yourself feel what you felt, to get out more; to live.

It was hard to be true to yourself, though, when your friends agreed to accompany you to a pride day in Jericho, and then ditched you.

You resented them, you envied them, they didn't know what it felt like; they never would.

The hurt multiplied ten fold when June came around. The hiding, the thinking, the loneliness, it didn't settle, it didn't stop.

After an hour of scrubbing off your makeup, crying face down into your bed, and ditching your  themed outfit, you arrived in Jericho, the opening ceremony finished.

The town square was very festive, multiple restaurants and shops agreed to host a scavenger hunt, crafted special meals to celebrate, provide smaller fun activities, and fireworks. You were proud of the small town of Jericho, they were trying; as were you.

And although they were trying, these activities were not really fun to do, well…alone.

Alas, that's what you were. Alone.

Passing by the Weathervane, you saw a small group of Nevermore students on their way out. You wanted to join in, but you didn’t know them, not that well.

Peering over at the counter, you found a drink special for the day;

'buy any regular sized drink, get rainbow whipped cream for free.'

You snorted, it was rather cheesy, but cute.

Stepping up to the counter, you ordered an iced coffee.

"Would you like rainbow whipped cream on that?"

You sighed, about to shake your head no when you heard a voice at the other end of the counter.

"Thank you, dear. This looks delicious."

She was standing tall with a red lipped smile, peering down at her hot chocolate; rainbow whipped cream on top.

You had to agree, it did look delicious.

"Yes, uh, whipped cream please."

As soon as your drink was made, you beelined it for the door, hoping she wouldn't see you.

It wasn't that you didn’t want to see her, it wasn't that you didn’t want to talk.

It was that you didn’t want her to see you- alone.

Unsure of where to go next, you stood on the sidewalk and tried your drink; delicious.

The doorbell rang and she stepped out, gazing around the streets.

In a flash, you turned and headed down the sidewalk, away from the activities, away from her.

"Y/N?"

You stopped, slowly turning as if you were unsure of where the voice had come from.

A wave, a smile, and she was next to you in a few strides.

"Darling, you're going the wrong way, the festival is this way!"

She never failed to make you happy, her and her rainbow hot chocolate.

You shrugged, "I uh, I don't really want to participate."

Her head tiled in question as she caught sight of your drink.

"You're not interested in celebrating pride?"

Well, that just made you sound homophobic. You shook your head quickly.

"No, no I am. I just, my friends were supposed to come with me but, they changed their minds I guess."

The principal looked down at you, your head hung in sadness, perhaps shame.

Today was not a day to be sad, it was not a day to be shameful, it was a day to be proud, to celebrate.

"Well, I am here with a few Nevermore students. I am proud to support them, no matter who or what they are."

You couldn't help but smile crookedly in awe, meeting her appreciative blue gaze. She bent down closer to you, softening her voice. "That includes you, love."

Your heart beat fast as you stared in surprise, tears threatened to spill as you felt accepted and cared for, for the first time in a long time.

Taking a sip of your drink with a shaky hand, you fiddled with your jewellery.

The woman saw you thinking, contemplating.

She felt the exact same at your age. Knowing who you were, to an extent, but pushing the feeling away with every chance you got.

You didn’t want to, she knew, you wanted to be proud, she knew, but it was hard when you felt like the only one, the only one in this small town.

"How about we try the scavenger hunt, hmm?"

You looked up at her with a frown, but inside you felt joyful.

"We're probably already behind" you chuckled.

The woman waved a hand in dismissal, "Nonsense. We have a good chance if we work together."

༻༺

1.

You made your way back into the Weathervane, retrieving the first clue to the hunt.

'If the first pride flag was designed in Jericho, it would've been designed here.'

You passed the first clue to her, knowing the first pride flag was designed in 1978. If it had have been designed in Jericho, well, you had three options.

The woman smiled, gasping lightly as she recalled "'Sew it forward', it was established here in the 1960s."

༻༺

2.

You followed the intriguing woman to 'Sew it forward', watching as she retrieved the second clue and stamped the pride book red.

She took the clue between her fingers, narrowing her eyes at the small writing.

'This famous bar in New York City was the site of the 1969 riots, a pivotal event in LGBTQ+ history. Find the Jericho bar that starts with the same letter.'

You racked your brain around the bars in Jericho. You have never been to the bars besides for lunch.

"Stones!"

The principal raised a brow at you, a small smirk on her face.

"What?! Just because I'm not of age doesn’t mean I haven't been. Stones has good pizza."

A loud laugh was heard throughout the fabric shop. You were overjoyed that you could make her laugh freely, albeit most likely sounding stupid.

She headed for the door; and you would follow her anywhere.

༻༺

3.

Arriving at Stones, you found those also attempting the hunt, and those drowning in drinks.

You stamped the book with the second stamp, orange, and retrieved the third clue.

'Locate a pin or item that displays personal pronouns or sexual orientation, both important ways to respect people's identities.'

Leading the way out into the street, you looked around.

You didn’t remember seeing a shop with a prominent pin or badge.

"A pin or badge."

You looked up at the tall woman, her eyebrows furrowed in question.

Raking your eyes over her form, you found a brooch on her jacket, one you knew she wore often.

Lips.

"Where did you get that brooch?"

She peered down at her brooch, straightening it out as a light blush overtook her cheeks.

"Oh, my brooch. I got it at the antique shop, Uriah's Heap."

Uriah's Heap, a shop so very, well, out of the ordinary.

It was your favorite.

You stared at her for a moment hoping she would catch on, until her eyes widened in excitement.

"Let's go!" she smiled, grabbing your hand as she drug you to the shop.

༻༺

4.

You stood outside of Uriah's Heap, finding a large progressive pride flag pin on their window.

You knew this was a scavenger hunt, a race of some sort, but you always loved searching for hidden treasures in the shop that many people didn’t appreciate.

Following the principal, she found her way to the antique jewelry.

Choosing a vintage locket, you placed it on the counter and found a basket of pins staring back at you.

"Hello, did you find something of interest?"

The woman, who you remembered enjoyed chaga tea after working here on outreach day, peered down at you.

"Yes, may I purchase this?"

Peering over at the tall woman, she held a brooch up to you.

"Do you think this is nice, darling?"

A brooch which you thought resembled an eye. Very fitting for the principal and her unique look.

"It's beautiful, it matches your bracelet."

She smiled gratefully down at you, placing it on the counter.

"You are very perceptive" she remarked.

The lady rang up both items, the principal speaking up.

"Oh, I'll purchase that separate."

You shook your head at her with a sly smile, "I got it Principal Weems."

After purchasing your items, the principal retrieved the fourth clue and stamped the book yellow.

'What LGBTQ+ novel, written by Sheridan Le Fanu, preceded Dracula?'

You had read this book recently, an easy clue, really.

"Carmilla"

The woman looked down at you in surprise, nodding her head.

"Great novel, absolutely the best. I'm proud" she winked.

You smiled, gaze landing on the floor bashfully before peering back over at the pins in the basket.

The woman noticed and sorted through them. "Hmm, so many options. Would you like one?"

You watched as she held them in her hands to you, every option they had available.

There were so many colors, so many flags and pronouns.

You hummed and hawed over them, knowing which you wanted to chose, but still unsure.

"Well, I think I like this one."

The principal chose one; red, orange, white and pink stripes staring back at you.

Your mouth opened in shock as you watched her pin it to her jacket.

She smiled mischievously, "What's the matter, darling?"

The lesbian flag, something you didn't see often included in pride merchandise.

"I, uh, are you…" you stuttered.

The woman chuckled, straightening out the pin. "A lesbian?"

You nodded speechless as you stared up at her, thrill running through your veins.

She clasped her hands together and gave one nod, a bright smile as she batted her eyelashes your way.

Her support, her happiness, the confidence that she had, it made you want to cry.

You were so, so happy for her, you were so very proud.

Proud of her for her openness, proud of her for her representation, proud of her for being her true self, and for showing others that it was okay to be gay.

Grateful for her bravery, to show others that they were not alone.

You took a deep breath, "Can I have the same one?"

She dug through the pins, finding the very same flag and holding it out to you, "May I?"

You nodded, presenting your jacket to her.

She pinned in on, running a hand soothingly over your arm.

"I'm so very proud of you, darling."

You breathed in heavily, taking in her sincere and caring smile before meeting her gaze.

"I'm proud of you too, Principal Weems. And I'm so happy for you, thank you."

It was all the principal had wished for on this day, to help at least one person through their journey. To help you present yourself, to help you feel like you deserved to be seen, to help you feel proud.

"Of course, love. Now, where can we find the novel 'Carmilla'?"

Well, the library or bookstore, of course. But, you took a bet that Carmilla may not be at the library, so you headed to the bookstore.

༻

5. Crow bookshop

You retrieved the second last clue, stamping the book green.

'Locate the basket prepared for a festive outdoor meal, filled with colorful snacks and drinks. Perfect for a celebration under the open sky.'

The principal looked down at you in contemplation.  "The Basket, like the restaurant?"

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure of where else they would be referring to.

༻༺

6.

You arrived at 'The Basket', a restaurant just before the beach.

There were a few specials, a fruit basket, a flight of ciders, and a flight of sliders.

You knew the principal was a fan of burgers.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall woman looked down at you, smiling as she read over the special.

"Chipotle, Bacon and cheese, Veggie, Bean, Texas, and Chicken sliders. Would you like to share?"

You looked over the menu, rereading what she had just rhymed off.

Nodding, you asked, "What's a flight?"

She chuckled, ordering the special for you both.

"You're about to find out."

Sitting at a table on the back patio, you settled down across from the principal.

A moment silence, you looked her up and down, questioning many things.

An older, wiser being. A beautiful one who appeared to be pretty open, who seemed like she'd understand, who seemed like she cared.

"How did you know that you liked women and not men?"

The woman raised her gaze to you, lips stretching into a sad smile.

She took a deep breath and smoothed a napkin over her lap.

"Well, when I was your age, this small town was all that I knew, just like you.

I knew that I didn't feel the same as my peers, I never cared to talk about boys, I never really fit in in the way that I hoped to.

One day I realized that I wouldn't at all mind kissing my friend, in fact I longed to" she chuckled. "Representation was lacking, but what little of it there was, it helped me realize how I felt as I grew. It's hard to accept yourself, for many reasons, but when you try to push it away, it doesn't get any better, it never changes."

Your voice was hoarse as you asked in confirmation.  "It never changes?"

She shook her head, "It never changes. You have to decide for yourself.

Do whatever makes you happy, feel whatever makes you happy, no matter how different it is, no matter how alone you may feel."

You pursed your lips as tears built in your eyes, she was right, of course she was.

"Well, it helps knowing I'm not the only one."

The woman nodded her head in agreement, wallowing over the memories of her feeling alone, of her heartbreakingly coming to the realization of how she truly felt, of who she really was.

It brought her sadness, to know that others felt the same; perhaps even worse.

"The journey is not an easy one, it's not for the weak. You have to know that you're strong, and you're worthy, always."

The sliders were placed on your table, averting her attention.

She carefully cut them all in half, holding up a piece of the bacon and cheese as she offered the rest to you.

"Bon appétit."

The principal stamped the book blue and picked up the last clue.

 '"At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon." What establishment is named after this poet?'

She looked down at you with a finger pointed your way.

You scrunched your eyebrows, Edgar Allan Poe.

The only establishment could be, "The Poe!"

You and the principal laughed, shouting the answer at the same time.

༻༺

7.

 You headed to The Poe, a small museum and shop on the beach that sold trinkets, drinks, and ice cream.

Principal Weems stamped the last page purple, turning in the scavenger hunt book to the shop.

"Well, congratulations! You were fifth to finish the scavenger hunt."

You laughed, fifth place.

The tall woman smiled down at you with a wink, "We're losers."

You both were, in fact, losers.

After collecting your prizes and ordering ice cream, which the principal insisted on, you made your way to a bench on the beach.

You watched the woman with great interest. An intelligent, interesting woman she was. A powerful, selfless woman. A perceptive woman, a force to be reckoned with.

You hoped and prayed that you would grow up to be at least half the person that she was.

The principal caught your interest with a low chuckle.

"I'm having lots of fun with you, love, but I'm sorry you had to spend the day with your principal."

You tilted your head in confusion; you were not sorry, not one bit.

"I'm not sorry. Today was the best day I've had in awhile. Thank you."

The woman pouted, opening her arms to you; you gladly embraced her.

With a deep breath you pulled away, placing your hand in her soft reassuring one.

"So what happened with your friend? The one you wanted to kiss?"

The principal chuckled remorsefully. "Nothing."

Looking out over the water, her smile turned to a frown.

"I wanted to hold her, to protect her from men with all the fury I had grown.

They don't see her beauty like I do, they don't care to.

But unfortunately, it's the same old story."

She turned to you with sad eyes.

"A girl cries over a girl and that girl cries over a guy, and well…

it goes on and on and on,

and it doesn't stop.

It never stops."

You were just like her, perhaps there was hope for you.

Just then, fireworks lit up the darkness of the beach. All colors of the spectrum were on display, but all you saw was red, orange, white, and pink.

Your attention was then diverted to a girl wearing a Nevermore uniform as she made her way to you.

She waved, "Hi Principal Weems."

She then looked to you. "Hi Y/N"

She spoke with the principal as you analyzed her. You recognized her, but you didn't know her name, so how did she know yours?

The girl's eyes landed on you once again, meeting your gaze. You didn't want to ask.

"Aura, I like your pin." A sly tone to the older woman's voice.

You followed the principals gaze to the pin on Aura's jacket, then you peered down at the pin attached to yours.

"Thanks Principal Weems" she smiled, eyes slowly trailing to the woman's pin, then to yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and Aura's raised in surprise.

"Oh, we all have the same pin!"

The principal chuckled, gazing down at you with a bright smile.

"See darling, you're never alone. I promise you're not the only one."

[starstruckmoony]

style.

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x fem!reader

summary - you and sirius start dating after accidentally running into each other at a concert but confirm nothing (till now), just to watch everyone lose their shit online.

trope/tags - band/celeb!au, instagram/social media!au, modern!au, fluff, terrible humour

word count - 1k

warnings - language

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

yourusername added to their story

starmanblack

❤ liked by yourusername, ev.rosier, marymacdonald and 856,327 others

starmanblack shades

26,013 comments

yourusername cigarette*

starmanblack ok duolingo

yourusername smash tbh

starmanblack not you copying my comment

yourusername i don't have the rizz it takes to come up with something original

starmanblack ain't no way you just said that

prongsyboy stop stealing people's glasses 😤

starmanblack never

vance_emm i'm like ragingly gay but you're kinda cute

starmanblack this is why you're my favourite lesbian

mmmckinnon TRAITOR

mmmckinnon it's not too late to delete this

starmanblack get out of my comment section

user828181 address the rumours sirius

user000423 run me over with your car i promise i'll pay for the damages 🙏

user627477 YOU HAVEN'T GIVEN US ANY ANSWERS

user999653 i'm perfect wife material, just saying

user424227 y'all realise that he's less likely to address the rumours if we keep being annoying 💀

user209996 nah fr he's gonna start hating us all

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, prongsyboy, pandorasbox and 899,997 others

yourusername never would have though that my shows in dublin would be the craziest ones out of all but you guys actually delivered and i couldn't be happier! 💕 these past three nights were absolutely insane and i can't wait to be back (and i may or may not have already booked a few venues 😩) PLUS someone got proposed AND I DIDN'T EVEN SEE 😭 so if any of you beautiful people who were there have the video my dms are open for business lmao 🙏💞

tagged ev.rosier

27,664 comments

starmanblack apparently the proposal happened right next to me 💀

yourusername BABE HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE?

starmanblack CAUSE YOU WERE BETTER THAN THE PROPOSAL

starmanblack my guitar ate as always

yourusername she's even signed 😱

starmanblack slay 😝

yourusername GO TO SLEEP OMG

starmanblack say it to my face 😤

xeno_lovegood i had so much fun

yourusername i'm smiling so hard rn

pete__ sirius is a certified simp because how do you miss a proposal that's happening next to you?

mmmckinnon it's because he's both sirius and a simp petey

prongsyboy sirius doing sirius things 🤣

user552520 dunno bout y'all but i got my confirmation tonight

user073789 YOU WERE SO GOOD OH MY GOD

user843632 i'm so lonely the proposal made me cry

user439546 love me some sappy shit fr

user674848 this was un fucking real no joke

user993455 SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE RUMOURS I'M BEGGING

user200017 learn to read between the lines lol

starmanblack added to their story

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, bellatrixieb, cissy_blck and 901,077 others

yourusername date night ⭐

29,208 comments

starmanblack pretty dress

yourusername why thank you

starmanblack my stomach feels funny from all that wine

yourusername my precious toilet 😭

marymacdonald gorgeous!!!

yourusername i was impersonating you

vance_emm AND SHE SAYS SHE HAS NO RIZZ

ev.rosier am i about to get fired?

yourusername of course not, you're my second favourite person

starmanblack i'm first

pandorasbox my friends are all so beautiful 🥺

yourusername us hot people stick together 😌

pandorasbox ONG

user329295 sirius is so lucky

user400128 i've never been more jealous of a man

user006272 IS THIS OUR CONFIRMATION?

user883265 mother is mothering

user306084 THE STAR

user243123 if this is another sike istg

user727211 I THINK IT'S NOT A DRILL ANYMORE

user492932 Y/N WE JUST NEED A SIMPLE YES OR NO DON'T DO THIS TO US

starmanblack

❤ liked by mmmckinnon, ev.rosier, casmeadowes and 916,222 others

starmanblack platonic snog

36,775 comments

yourusername people just don't appreciate friendships nowadays 🙄

starmanblack it's just so so sad 😣

yourusername i have better photos of us 👹

starmanblack strongly disagree

yourusername you don't wanna make this a competition

marymacdonald my mum said friends don't do that

starmanblack mama macdonald may be onto something

r.a.black affection 🤮

starmanblack i thought you unfollowed me?

r.a.black i did but i like lurking around here

starmanblack fan behaviour

rjlupin best friend things

prongsyboy HEY I'M HIS BEST FRIEND

rjlupin you were supposed to play along

user020226 MOTHER OF GOD IS THIS REAL

user366232 HDJQJDJQDJQ MY DELUSIONS WEREN'T DELUSIONS

user500447 you still need therapy

user432777 AIN'T NO WAY

user718710 I DIED DEAD.

user907015 GADHQHDQUDJQXJQDJQ I CAN'T FUCKING CATCH MY BREATH

user138282 are you still alive?

user907015 NO

user882446 this and platonic don't go together sirius 🙄

yourusername

❤ liked by walburgablack, cissy_blck, bellatrixieb and 933,052

yourusername pda is afraid of him

39,457 comments

starmanblack FINE you have better photos

yourusername see? that wasn't so hard to admit!

starmanblack i actually won in life

yourusername damn right you did

starmanblack celeb_gossip losing their minds rn

yourusername the kettle is B R E W I N G 🥵🫖🤩👀😳☕😝😻

bartyyy I KNEW BEFORE EVERYONE ELSE HAHA

yourusername well you're the favourite child...

lily_evans kinda illegal how you're both so hot

casmeadowes i've been saying!!!

cissy_blck REG'S SISTER IN LAW 😭

bellatrixieb he's one lucky man

r.a.black lucky isn't exactly the right word but okay

user737729 OH MY FUCKING SHIT

user632444 MY ACTUAL PARENTS

user536272 NOT ME NOT BEING DELULU

user292920 swifities can't relate

user155161 WALBURGA LIKED THIS HELP ME

user993929 narcissa is so real LMFAOOO

user032386 THAT SHOULD BE ME (idk which person i want to be more)

starmanblack added to their story

yourusername

❤ liked by cissy_blck, luciussy, bartyyy and 942,773 others

yourusername happy birthday to this idiot who i unfortunately love very much 💕

tagged starmanblack

30,033 comments

starmanblack tragic how i love you back

yourusername absolutely

starmanblack rizz god since 12

yourusername are you still 12?

lily_evans got me tearing up over here

yourusername awwww 🥺

rjlupin you should have used that one photo where he was on the potty

starmanblack WHY ARE YOU LETTING THEM KNOW THAT EXISTS?

rjlupin denying it would have worked yk

casmeadowes i woke up to this 💀

starmanblack good

mmmckinnon mondays.

user939355 THE CAT

user019661 i'm making this my profile picture

user763772 tell him i said happy birthday

user195666 imagine having someone say they love you so publicly ha ha ha ha ha

user244488 fuck being single fr

user328911 NO BUT THIS IS KINDA CUTE 😭

yourusername added to their story

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hnng your writing of Donna with pregnant reader or a kid makes my ovaries howl.

Could we maybe have some more with Donna being soft with pregnant reader, maybe even asking to get married? 👉👈

Domestic Donna gives me the lesbian feelings.

Regardless of the ask, really great writing and hope you keep hydrated

Yesss!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Taking care of you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader

Word count: 4,027

Summary: Seven months of pregnancy are too many months, but she's always by your side...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Boredom was something you could allow yourself. The mansion, always dark, lonely, as if no one lived there, had become an incessant circuit of walks, sighs and moans.

You had been living there for a year, a year since your life changed forever.

A villager born there, a helper on your family's farm, you never had the impression that your life could somehow improve, or get out of the monotony. Masses to the Black Gods, blind faith in Mother Miranda and the Lords... It was a boring and sinister routine.

But if anything got you out of bed in the mornings it was that kind of discreet game you played in the church, when no one was looking.

The woman in mourning, the most dangerous and dark Lord of all, Donna Beneviento, seemed to follow that little game of glances. At first it was just your imagination, curiosity about that black veil, about that melancholic pose. It soon became a subtle exchange of greetings, a turn of her head towards you, and yours towards hers.

Coincidence, curiosity, or simply the anxiety to get out of the routine, you didn’t know what exactly had been the trigger for that daily exchange, for that habit of greeting each other with an increasingly effusive gesture.

You could say that love had knocked on your door, that it had opened a path in the dark and grey way that would be your life. Against all odds, that path appeared in front of you when that black figure walked towards you after one of the witch's sermons and, timidly, with the help of that sinister Angie doll, Lady Beneviento finally begged to meet you.

It wasn’t an easy relationship. There were many problems, traumas and insecurities tormenting the lady in black. You were always a girl with patience, who would fight for her beloved without fearing the consequences.

Little by little you learned to deal with her, to understand her, to comfort her when she needed it. Maybe she was never like everyone said. Maybe her only problem was being hopelessly alone.

That was a routine you liked to be in: silent afternoons, kisses, caresses, romantic dinners, a lot of reminders of how much she loved you and how afraid she was of losing you…

Yes, even when you had just moved to the old estate, you felt comfortable with the routine, with feeling there was actually someone who understood you and whom you understood.

But the illusion that your life was a path already marked, an illuminated or dark one, was simply a sensation heightened by boredom. No, your life was not going to continue the same, it never would.

After several weeks of feeling sick, you discovered that life still had a surprise in store for you. You were pregnant.

 It was something unexpected, a slip that was not really one, a carelessness that could not be called that way.

An emotional whirlwind shook your senses. Many unanswered questions lashed your mind mercilessly. In the end, after thinking about it calmly, you decided to see that news as the best in the world, as the beginning of a wonderful new routine.

The symptoms were almost unbearable, but luckily Donna was always with you, always looking after you, looking after her child. You would never have had the courage to endure those mood swings, those nausea, without her hand tightly squeezing yours.

And there you were, seven months later, carrying a swollen belly, with your body exhausted by every step you took, wishing that it would finally be over and you could be a family, the strangest family in the whole village, but also one of the most respected.

Everything was going perfectly well, but, for a week now, Lady Beneviento was especially... Her. You didn't know why, but she seemed nervous. It was probably because of that sudden responsibility of your pregnancy, her constant fear of not being what you expected of her to be.

“Hello? Are there any Donnas in there?” you asked amused, knocking on the doors of the old workshop, with a hand eternally resting on your belly.

“(Y/N),” the woman in black said, walking to open the door, with a sad smile. “What are you doing here, tesoro? You should rest.”

You waved it off and sighed childishly.

“I know, but if I have to spend one more minute alone up there, with Angie telling me all the time how fat I am...” you said with pleading eyes.

Donna smiled, caressing your cheek and then your belly, as usual, slowly approaching to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Don't pay attention to her, mm? You look beautiful,” she whispered affectionately, with that smile that took you so long to discover.

“I have eyes in my face and there are mirrors in this house,” you joked a bit frustrated, joining your hands with hers, caressing that increasingly annoying lump. “It doesn't matter, can I keep you company for a while?”

“Sure, let me help you,” she said, excited as every time you left the light on the upper floor to dive into that dark basement, to be with her, to make her see that she would never be alone again.

Carefully, the lady accompanied you to a nearby chair, helping you sit down in a gentlemanly manner, taking a look at you in case you might be uncomfortable before returning to her dolls.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, without taking away that wonderful smile, the expectation of the changes of what was now your family.

“Well…” you sighed, resting an elbow on the table, playing with the dress of one of the hundreds of porcelain dolls that guarded the sinister workshop. “Let's see… I've thrown up breakfast again, my ankles are burning and I think they've quintupled in size, the baby seems to want to be a gymnast because it doesn't stop moving and it's the sixth time I've gone to the bathroom in two hours but… I guess I'm fine,” you said amused, counting each and every one of the discomforts that were already part of your daily life.

Donna looked at you studiously, with a half smile, sighing and nodding.

“Calm down, tesoro, there's less and less left,” she murmured, mixing paints in a jar, decorating an empty porcelain head.

You nodded, blinking mockingly.

“It’s easy for you to say, huh?” you whispered, nudging her slightly. She closed her eye and took a breath, thinking of what to say to the truth that frustrated her. “I'm joking, Donna. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

The lady looked at you lovingly again, but with a dark shadow on her face, as if something was worrying her. Well, of course she was worried, she couldn't help but feel somehow guilty about your discomfort.

“I, I'm worried, (Y/N)…” Donna said quietly, leaving her freshly painted head on the table and turning to caress your belly again, with a frown.

“What's worrying you?” you asked with the same soft tone, breathing calmly thanks to her tender caresses.

“What if it looks like me?” she asked, looking into your eyes, running her hand slowly over your belly. You smiled, lifting her face with your hand, looking into that eye emanating sadness.

“Then it will be the most beautiful baby in the world,” you whispered, capturing her lips again in a slow, sudden kiss.

“No, no…” she said immediately, moving away and running her hand through the hair that fell over the deformity of her right eye. “I don't mean that, I… I'm, I'm afraid that… Well, that it might inherit my… My problems, you know.”

You smiled understandingly, taking her hand in yours, letting the air out of your lungs little by little, relaxing Donna's incipient trembling, one that never brought anything good.

“Come on, Donna, don't think that way, I'm sure everything will be fine,” you said, getting a little closer to her, cupping her soft face in your hands, running your thumbs over her cheeks. She slowly shook her head. It wasn't that easy to take away her worries, you already knew that.

“You're just saying that to reassure me,” she sighed listlessly, taking your hand, showing the trembling of hers. You smiled, thus hiding your helplessness to calm her fears. “Everything, all of this is so... New to me...”

“Of course, you're right, what was I thinking?” you joked, moving away and crossing your arms, making her blink in confusion. “I should have known that it would be new for you, since for me, well, it's just another pregnancy, like the previous fourteen.”

Donna looked at you curiously, opening her mouth to say something, but being unable to do so. You bit your lip and stood up from the chair, sitting on her lap with an amused gasp, grabbing her cheeks with your hand and comically shaking her head.

“It was a joke,” you hissed in a mocking tone, stealing a kiss from her as you gripped her face, letting her hold you comfortably, breathing in relief. Having Donna learn to catch your jokes was an even more complicated goal than motherhood.

“Certo,” she said, shaking her head, embarrassed by her naivety, holding you tightly against her body.

You, amused, looked at your belly, settling yourself on the brunette's lap, who was still embarrassed by her attitude.

“What did your mommy say? I hope you understand her,” you whispered, pretending to talk to the baby, something that undoubtedly, just as you planned, made the woman in black smile, stealing an elegant kiss from you, sighing.

“Everything, everything will be okay… right?” she asked in a low tone, looking sweetly into your eyes.

“Everything will be okay, Donna, you'll see. We'll be the best family in the world,” you said softly, leaving the jokes aside. She looked at you uncertainly, but nodded, caressing your belly again.

“Family…” she sighed, losing her gaze again, turning her bright eye away from yours, shifting in her chair. “It, it reminds me that I have something to tell you, (Y/N).”

“I’m listening,” you said amused, getting off her lap and returning to your seat, feeling that terrible nuisance of nature again.

“I, well, maybe it seems silly to you but I've been thinking about you, about me, about the baby, for a while… I, I was wondering if…”

“Wait, wait a moment,” you said with an apologetic smile. She fell silent and looked at you curiously. “I have to go to the bathroom, again,” you excused yourself, almost running out the door of the workshop.

After that common, but at the same time strange conversation, the lady in black didn’t return to what she wanted to say. It was true that she took care of everything, but it was also true that the more the baby grew, the more incapable you became to maintain a long conversation, sleep through the night or just relax.

“Mmm,” you murmured when it was time to eat, enjoying the amazing cooking of the dangerous Donna Beneviento. If you were told that a Lord like her had a passion for culinary art, you would probably think it was a joke. “You know, I could spend years pregnant for you to cook for me.”

Donna looked at you amused, shaking her head.

“I already cooked for you before, (Y/N),” she said, taking a sip of her glass of wine, with an amused expression, without losing her smile.

“Did you?” you asked with a mocking tone, pretending to search those memories on you mind.

She nodded, laughing adorably. You could spend an eternity listening to that laughter.

“If Mother Miranda saw you…” you mocked, with a mocking smile, rolling your eyes, shaking your head, pretending indignation.

“She would ask what's for dessert,” Donna joked, surprisingly, thus earning to hear your amused laughter while you comically threw a napkin at her.

“She’ll have just birdseed,” you whispered, messing with the high priestess, the cause of many of Donna's problems.

To tell the truth, you didn't like Miranda very much, but that one of her daughters, the youngest, was starting a family didn't seem to bother her at all, which guaranteed you a quiet life, or so you liked to believe.

“Mother Miranda...” the lady whispered, changing her amused expression to a serious one, looking away from yours, focusing on her already empty plate. “(Y/N), I want, I want to ask you something...”

You, completely oblivious to those words, yawned exaggeratedly, stretching yourself on the table and rubbing your eyes.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked, worried, forgetting the phrase she was saying.

You nodded, suppressing another yawn.

“Yes, yes, just... I'm just sleepy,” you said in a tired voice.

Donna sighed in frustration at something and then nodded, with a smile a little weaker than usual.

“Okay, I'll... I'll pick this up and you, you should lie down, okay?” she said, getting up from the table and stacking the plates, pointing to the couch.

“Don't tell me twice,” you sighed, walking slowly towards the indicated couch and lying down carefully, enduring another dose of erratic movements from the baby in your belly.

You felt something covering you and you couldn't help but smile tenderly.

“Rest, amore mio,” Donna whispered covering you with a blanket and kissing your head.

You, with your eyes already closed, reached for her hand to caress it before she left, which caused another tender laugh from the doll maker.

Before you could realize that Donna had been wanting to tell you something all day, something important, sleep attacked you mercilessly.

“Hey!” An unpleasant squeal made you open your eyes in fear, sitting up immediately. Of course, Angie had to make her appearance.

“Oh, Angie, you’ve scared me,” you protested, automatically bringing your hands to your belly, protecting it from that sinister doll.

The puppet laughed amused, climbing onto the couch and uncovering you completely with a tug on the blanket.

“Coward, coward…” she sang mockingly, making you snort angrily.

“Do you know that if you scare me you can cause me a premature labor?” you asked ironically, causing the sinister laughter to stop immediately. “What do you say? Do you think you can handle that?”

“Uhg, go back to the aquarium, Willy,” Angie mocked unpleasantly, as always.

“This is the last time I buy a VHS from the Duke,” you threatened, crossing your arms.

Angie laughed again, fighting against your attempt to push her off the couch.

“Angie, lasciala stare,” Donna said, appearing miraculously, like she always does.

The doll fidgeted, fleeing from her owner's reprimands. You growled, looking pleadingly at the lady, who approached the corner with a tray, leaving it on the small coffee table.

“Your evil doll has insinuated I’m a whale,” you said in a childish way, like a little child who tells on something its brother did.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, looking angrily at the doll, who cowardly fled from the ventriloquist's anger. “Don't pay attention to her, you look beautiful, you know it.”

“Yes, yes…” you sighed, shaking your head rubbing your now throbbing temples. “What did you bring me?” you asked with a tender, almost seductive tone.

“Some tea with some cookies,” she explained, serving you that hot liquid in a cup. You blushed once again, overwhelmed by so much attention, but of course delighted by it.

“Are you really that dangerous? You look like a soft, cuddly teddy bear to me,” you joked, taking the hot cup and blowing to make the smoke disappear.

“I wish that were true,” the lady said, with a slightly sad tone, letting you know you had unintentionally brought back the ghosts of her past.

You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek while calming the movements in your belly with soft caresses she quickly joined in. If there was one thing Donna liked, that made her really smile, it was noticing how her baby was growing, how it was moving inside of you.

After that tender little moment, you stepped back, taking one of the cookies from the tray, ready to dip it into the tea.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna sighed, playing with something in her hand, something you couldn't see since you were focused on your snack. “I want, I want to ask you, I would like…”

“Oh, no…” you murmured sadly when that cookie broke into a thousand pieces.

It was silly, but anything that happened to you was likely to be the spark that triggered one of your horrible mood swings. As if it were a real drama, as if you were watching a movie without a happy ending, tears came to your eyes.

“Tesoro, what's wrong? Are you feeling sick?” the lady asked worriedly, hiding that mysterious object behind her.

“Donna, it's horrible,” you sobbed with your eyes set on the pieces of cookie that sank into the tea.

“Che cosa? (Y/N), what, what's wrong?” she asked again, nervously holding your hand and studying your sad gaze.

“My cookie just broke,” you sobbed, letting those senseless tears travel down your cheeks.

As expected, the lady in black blinked in confusion, looking at your cup of tea and then at you.

“The, the cookie,” she repeated with a frown, breathing more calmly.

Overwhelmed by a sudden sadness at that terrible misfortune, you threw yourself into her arms, letting the tears of your personal drama bathe the black fabric of her dress.

“Why is life so unfair?” you asked, giving too much importance to that incident, unable to control, once again, the hormonal changes that tormented your fragile spirit.

Donna hugged you, caressing your back erratically, surely stunned by such a disproportionate reaction.

“Um, (Y/N), cal, calmati, tesoro,” she murmured, comforting you as best she could in such a comically absurd situation “There, there are many more cookies.”

“None like that one!” you squealed, causing the lady to hug you even tighter as you sank into her chest.

“(Y/N), come on, relax… Don’t, don’t cry, it’s not good for the baby,” she said in a soft voice, without letting you go of her confusing embrace, admirably enduring your mood swings, everything your body was going through with that little baby inside.

“You’re right,” you said, pulling away abruptly and wiping away your tears, suddenly finding that crying absurd and ridiculous. “There are more cookies in the ocean, aren’t there?” you joked as an apology.

She laughed and shook her head, not wasting the opportunity to please you with a kiss on the lips, a tender and playful kiss.

You finally relaxed, embarrassed by your erratic attitude. When you moved, you saw something behind the lady, a small box, surely what Donna was holding minutes before.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at the object in question.

Donna looked at it as if she had been scared, taking it and standing up abruptly.

“Niente,” she whispered nervously, hiding the package behind her back.

You looked at her suspiciously, trying to peek out to see it, something impossible, since she was moving at the same time.

“Nothing? You liar,” you said, squinting, making an effort to get up and reach out a hand to the woman in black. With the baby increasingly heavy in your belly, it was normal for Donna to have an advantage in running away from you. “Hey, come back here, you know I can't run.”

“It's not important, (Y/N), it's nonsense,” she said, walking away from you, with a fake smile.

You, with dark eyes, knowing that the lady was hiding something from you was quite obvious, walked slowly towards her.

“A worse nonsense than crying over a cookie? Come on, come here, honey, tell me what you're hiding,” you said amused, chasing the lady around the room, at your own pace, of course.

“No, it's nothing, stop, stop moving like that, it could be... Dangerous...” she stammered, clumsily cornered against a wall.

“It's not right for you to run away from the mother of your child, Donna,” you hissed, managing to reach out your arm to snatch the object from her, which she prevented with a comical pirouette.

“I'm not running away from you, I'm just...” she sighed nervously, shifting away from you again, which gave her at least a ten-minute head start so you could turn around.

“Got it!” Angie shouted, jumping towards the lady and taking the small box from her, causing a frustrated snort from the woman, who kicked the floor in a childish manner.

“Cazzo, Angie!” Donna shouted furiously, unable to stop the doll on her way to you, handing you the box with a satisfied laugh.

You raised your eyebrows, taking the box with a smile, surprised by the doll's attitude.

“Wow, thanks Angie,” you said amused, high-fiving the puppet.

“I also hate when my cookies break,” Angie whispered, running away from her owner's fury again, disappearing from the scene among evil laughs.

“(Y/N), wait…” the lady sighed, not being able to reach you before you opened the box and froze.

Inside that box, there was something shiny, very shiny, a wonderful ring, covered in diamonds, that lit up your face with its golden aura, leaving you confused, amazed and speechless.

“A ring?” you asked with a smile you couldn't help, with your heart beating fast and the baby moving in your belly.

“I…” she said, with her hand on her forehead, letting her body relax with a sad, defeated sigh.

“Wow, it's amazing, Donna,” you whispered, taking the jewel in your hand and admiring it with curiosity.

The lady growled and snatched the box and the ring from you, unable to look at your face.

“That damn doll…” she hissed furiously.

“Hey, tell me, tell me what it means,” you said in a soft tone, controlling the impending nervous breakdown of the lady in black.

“What do you think it means?” she said, shaking her head and putting the jewel back in the case.

You shrugged confused, with a million thoughts calling for your attention.

“Oh, I guess there is no choice...” she whispered, before gently taking your hands and kneeling on the wooden floor with her eye closed.

Again, you froze, letting her hand lightly pull yours as she soaked it with a nervous sweat.

“(Y/N) maybe, maybe I'm not the best person in the world, maybe... Maybe the things we've lived are just an illusion and maybe, maybe it's nonsense. Maybe I don't deserve more than what I have, I don't deserve your love and your smile brightening the darkness of my life but...” she said with a broken voice, with her body trembling as she knelt down.

“Donna...” you sighed with an expectant smile as she opened the small case again.

“But if there's any compassion left for me, I'd like to ask the Black Gods for you to never leave my side, for you to you continue to brighten my life every day and for me to be able spend an eternity by your side, like, like a family...” she continued, not daring to look at your face, taking a breath to ask the last question, the most important of all “(Y/N), amore mio, light of my days, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

You bit your lip again, now looking into her bright eye, listening to her nervous breathing. You shook your head with a wide smile, the most sincere smile of your life.

“Donna, I…”

She nodded impatiently.

“Of course, I would love to be your wife. I love you so much…” you said excitedly with a tear, which this time made sense, sliding down your cheek.

If your smile was sincere, bright, hers had no words. With a joyful gasp, she leaned towards your bulging belly, kissing it tenderly before getting up and capturing your lips in a romantic, passionate way.

“Gods, (Y/N)… Ti amo…” she whispered, resting her forehead against yours, mixing her tears of joy with yours.

After a moment of serenity, of tender looks, the lady in black took the ring out of the case, elegantly sliding it onto your finger, breathing heavily, but happily. Only happiness could be seen on her face.

[f0rlorn]

delicate → lamina

lamina!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you get to live a soft, domestic life with lamina. cottagecore lesbians trope and not ashamed. feminine intended reader

warnings → short, but her tag is so bare i needed to do something about it. not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     lamina’s thick, red hair combed through your fingers as you parted it into three separate sections, beginning the works of a braid. both of your schedules had finally aligned, allowing you to spend your free time with the girl for the first time in a while. wind blew in from the open window, causing the dainty curtains to flutter, and the cool draft gave you goosebumps. lamina was humming a familiar tune, an old generational lullaby, as your finger got to work, expertly twisting her auburn hair into a simple but classy braid. these days were the ones you cherished the most. serene, intimate, nothing but tranquil as lamina and you simply focused on your eternal love for each other. 

     the two of you were patiently awaiting the baked goods lamina had made to finish cooking in the oven. it was rare that lamina and you ever got to enjoy sweets, as the ingredients were very hard to come by. knowing how much lamina loved to bake, though, you had saved up to buy everything she would need. lamina must have been keeping track of the time, because as soon as you finished with her hair, she sprung up, walking over to the oven. as she pulled the assortment of sweets out, carefully placing them on the countertop, the aroma filled the room. it was mouthwatering, sickeningly sweet, just like lamina. it wasn’t a bad thing, being overly sweet. if anything, it put you into even more of a sugar craze. you couldn’t get enough of her and her baking.

     in total, she had made three short of a dozen shortbread cookies, even though they may have been slightly out of season. you would eat anything she made, though, knowing she did it all with love. while she tended to her sweets, you snuck outside the back door, allowing your bare feet to connect with the grass. there was a patch of daisies out back. small, white flowers that you plucked individually, cradling them in your palm as you slipped back inside. lamina had displayed her cookies on an old, plate of china. the lone dish had been an anniversary gift to her parents. rimmed with gold paint, with small, orange flowers embroidered on it as well. lamina beckoned for you to sit, but you were on a mission, walking up behind her. the girl was confused, but trusted you enough that she wasn’t bothered. you took the daisies, weaving them into her braid as a final touch. you couldn’t help but smile at your handiwork. the white of the flower was a gorgeous juxtaposition against her auburn hair.

     “beautiful,” she grinned at your compliment, cupping your face with her hand. grabbing one of the cookies, lamina held it up for you to try. you didn’t hesitate in taking a bite, groaning in delectation as the flavor overwhelmed your senses. lamina never missed when baking. it was her passion, after all. and she was yours.

[bi-lavelent]

Lone wolf (Quinn fabray x fem-reader)

Warning: fluff, bullying, angst

My family was an immigrant family from Italy. My sister and me were the only American citizen in my family. We were also the only two who could speak English fluently. My dad was on a work visa from Germany and my mom was on a work visa from Italy.

I had always made it through school without being noticed. All I wanted to do was make it through the four years of high school. Living in Lima, Ohio is never easy. Especially when I didn’t have any friends. My home life wasn’t easy my family struggled a lot with money. We would live paycheck to paycheck. My mom had issues with what my father said was shopping. But it was really an addiction to drugs and drinking. I tried to never be a burden to anyone. I just tried making it out of high school which was never gonna happen I had several failed classes that I needed to catch up on and pass. I didn’t know if I would be making it out of fucking Lima Ohio. I didn’t even know if I wanted to graduate. There’s several jobs that don’t need me to graduate or my dad’s boss had dropped out of high school and made himself a million dollar business.

On the other hand my sister was a Cheerio. She was popular. She was dating a football player Matt Rutherford. She was friends with the unholy trinity although she was a year younger than them. They accepted her and treated her like a little sister. Her and Matt met last year when he was a freshman and she was an 8th grader. She was at cheerleading camp and performed at one of the games. She seemed to be the perfect kid straight A’s and just all together Straight. Unlike me who was a raging Lesbian loner with tattoos and piercings.

It was the first day of my senior year. As I got dressed in a leather crop top, a leather skirt and a heavy leather jacket. I ran across the hallway to wake up my sister. I sat on her bed and shook her.

“Hope! It’s time to wake up.” I told her

“Ugh… do I have too.” She pleaded

“Yes, come on we both are in the only two years of highschool that are good.” I replied “we have to leave in 30 minutes. I’m gonna run down the street to the convenient store and grab us some breakfast. Well you put your make up on.”

I ran down to the convenient store and picked us both up some donuts and got us some milk (choose whatever milk you like or change it if your lactose intolerant) I got myself a strawberry banana milk and my sister some chocolate. I went up to the counter to pay. I headed back to the car and went back home to grab my sister. She was already outside waiting for me. As I drove her to school we sang along to the radio. We had a twenty minute drive to school so we sang everything from AC/DCs Thunderstruck to Bon Jovi’s You give love a bad name. But as soon as we arrived at school she had me drop her off a block away so that she would not be seen with me. I drove into the senior lot almost hitting a couple of Jocks throwing kids into a dumpster.

I kept my head down all day like usual. Until I got cornered in the library by my Spanish teacher after school well I was studying. Well I was actually waiting for my sister. I was excepting that he wanted to talk to me about Spanish. But instead he showed me a video of me in middle school singing in my choir. He asked me if I would join his stupid glee club. I said no of course. Why would I join a stupid club let alone the glee club. I was walking out the school when I saw some kids in the choir room singing and what apparently they think is dancing. I stopped and stood there for a second before a girl with a really big smile waved at me. God I hated happy people I walked away and got in my car and drove a block away to pick my sister up.

“How was cheer practice?” I asked her

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t talk to losers like you.” She told me

“Okay, Lupa.” I said

“Verliererin”she said

(Translate) Lupa: Bitch (Italian)

Verliererin: Loser (German)

I got home and went to bed. There was no point in staying up the only thing that it would lead to is me getting yelled at but of course I still got yelled out.

Our mother came storming into my room at 1:00am screaming at me. “ (Nessuno ti amerà mai né si prenderà cura di te. Sei una puttana e una stronza, sei fortunato che lascio vivere a casa mia anche un frocio come te. So solo che sei facile da battere.) Nobody will ever love you or care about you. You’re a whore and a cunt you’re lucky I’m even letting a fag like you live in my home. I just know that you’re easy to beat.”

As she left my bedroom I heard her go upstairs and go to her room. I went upstairs and went out to my car I just went for a drive to see how far I could get. I didn’t stop driving til I got tired. At that point I had Passed the border I wasn’t sure what direction I was going in. But I had hit Michigan at some point a couple hours ago. It was way past the start of school but I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t get what my mom said out of my head. It hurt so much I knew that she didn’t like me but I did not think that she would say it to my face. I got a text from Matt saying that he had brought my sister to school.

I had stayed away for a couple days staying at a hotel. Well I was staying there one day I was exploring and I discovered that there was a good lesbian bar that was near by the hotel. I didn’t drink much but I met some people that were like me and it felt good for the first time in along time.

When I came back I drove into the senior lot I didn’t attend much of my classes I attended my history class and spent the rest of the time in the only place that I never get interrupted the auditorium. I don’t why but it was always the place that I felt the safest. I looked up when I heard talking I saw those group of kids from the choir room a football player. I think his name was Fish I have no clue I wasn’t paying attention when Matt introduced them to me and my sister. When they started singing I heard the happiness in their voice. It sounded like the really wanted to be there. I looked up to see Mr. Schue standing next to me also watching them. He said some shit I guess he was gonna leave (which wouldn’t be the worse thing) I don’t even think he knows Spanish.

Why was I so happy in that moment. Maybe it was cause I was seeing a group of kids who the world hadn’t damaged yet. Just having fun maybe I realized …

[ria-writes-stories]

To each other and each other only

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Ship: Jolly

Description: Lesbians who are passive aggressive

-----

(No one's pov)

J was walking to an abandoned building, a mall to be more specific, deserted and empty like everything on this hollow atomic wasteland of nothing but harsh coldness and- no. There are some things that are warm in this world as cold as it seems.

J pushed her head underneath Doll's arm while pulling the shorter drone on her lap holding her in a tight demanding manner yet her grip was soft and careful as if she was afraid to accidentally break her. "Idiot drone." J said upset as she held Doll closely to her, with her chest pressed against her back. "Moron useless piece of scrap." Doll answered bluntly without remorse whatsoever as she avoided J's gaze, as she continued to stare off into the distance as she was doing earlier before J picked her up and sat her on her lap. "You were gone all night. Do you have any clue where I searched for you? I even went down that hell hole!" J spat out angrily with venom, she was highly irritated of Doll's 'negligence' and 'immature behavior', she was absolutely furious with it.

"No you didn't." Doll dismissed her simply as she knew what J was referring to, or at least she thought so... "I went all the way over that dumb colony looking for you and you weren't anywhere to be seen!" J spat out angrily. "For a moment I thought you went down to the elevator." "You're annoying not an absolute worthless imbecile like N." J said angrily as Doll continued to stay as cold and blunt towards her despite how closely J was holding her. "It's not my fault if you can't use your control board disk to realize that I would never go back to the colony-" "Not even for the inexplicable amounts of oil there?" Doll's eyes slightly widen as she went quiet and slightly moved her head to the side to avoid J's gaze.

"Stop being such an annoying toaster!" J said grabbing Doll's chin and forcing her to look at her, Doll's answer? She 'slapped' J's hand away from her in a quick aggressive yet painless movement. "Shut up."

Doll was impossible to break through, yet this disassembly drone always found new ways when an old one would fail. "You were hungry, you went to the colony to feast, why didn't you leave a note or something you utter low minded incapable drone?!" "Because than you'd sit like a useless dog in one place instead of doing work like I do." J was beyond furious and Doll was acting uncaring and annoyed.

Doll knew J by now. She was like a panther. Solo and alone, deadly and dangerous but not at the top of the food chain among all of the felines or among other top predators in other places where there are bears for example. However she was fast, incredibly so, and efficient, that's why Doll wouldn't like if this yellow panther would lazy around instead of searching for what she needed so she could take it from her just because of something as irrational as 'worrying'.

J knew Doll better than anyone ever got to. You may say that their common 'passion' or primal survival need to consume other drones to survive brought them closer, because it was something they only had each other to understand for. Lizzy never understood Doll, ever. Doll was simply a token to Lizzy's popularity. Tessa never understood the struggle J went through with the overheating and the 'hollow spooky snake-crab' because she didn't want her to ever find out about it in the first place, she didn't deserve it, she had to protect her, but even so it's easy to grow lonely even with the person meant to be your friend.

"You can't just go without warning and expect me to not do anything. We're business partners now right? We have a common thing to work for, so that's what we will do, but I can't do it if a mute freakish little copper toy like you doesn't use her voice box to speak up what that AI-based circuit board is cooking up in there!" J said in a scolding manner as her eyes narrowed, for anyone they would seem ruthless and distant but Doll knew how to look at closer details and see her sadness.

All she had to do was listen to her voice past the fake filter of anger.

"You're an idiot, a slow minded clueless and primal animal, not even an animal would be as dumb as you are." Doll said as she refused to face J as J's grip tightened on her waist. "Yes because animals leave another when what they achieved is completed or when they realize they can't do it, and as far as I am concerned we didn't find that damned key and you know damn well I am the one in charge of keys." Owing a key means you can open whatever is hidden behind it's lock, but it can also mean you're doing the work of another, and Doll knew that full heartedly, even so, she avoided teasing J about it, she knew it was sensitive, just as J avoided talking about Doll's parents. They never talked about any of these things, they just knew.

Doll finally looked at J and simply proceeded to rest her head on her shoulder as one hand rested on her chest and the other she kept to herself. Doll didn't say anything, she just huffed as J simply warped her wings around her. She knew it was useless. She could never protect her from something she couldn't protect herself from, but that need to provide was still there, it's how she knew how to express best what her tongue never allowed her to. Doll knew that, that's why she'd allow her do these silly acts, because 'love' wasn't a word, and because if J was ever to say it she would know that she has lost her charm and everything that made her be herself, meaning that Doll couldn't stay with her anymore as to not damage her further.

J let her tail lay limp in Doll's lap, her way of showing that she trusts her, because last time her very own weapon brought to her down fall, and Doll? Well, she would caress her tail softly as she wore an eyepatch in order to hide J from the yellow devil which gave her these powers, and which was responsible for all the unfortunate events in their lives.

"Moron." "Idiot." the two spoke to each other quietly.

Only to hold each other tighter and closer to each other like they could be brought away from one another in the blink of an eye without even realizing, without even feeling it, and that was scarier than seeing the other one just perish. To be strangers is such a cruel fate to every single soul that could get along if they were to meet, and even worse if they already engaged forever, bonding each other to the other, and to rip them apart would mean that what they shared would mix up inside of them and leave the other one with a part forever missing from them and left with the missing part of the other.

Doll continued to gently hold J's stinger while brushing her thumb the pointy deadly tip of it as if it was blunt and unused and not sharp and dangerous.

J continued to hold her as she united her hands and rested them both on Doll's shoulder to keep her closer to herself, their bodies pressed against each other as they would slowly feel that curse of a heat burst within inside, threatening to send them off to hunt, but never with the desire of consuming it, not as long as they were next to each other.

"Idiot." J whispered quietly as she rested her forehead on the side of Doll's head as the Russian drone simply mumbled, sneaking a look at her when J closed her eyes.

When J was asleep, resting, Doll did the most natural thing to do. Something her parents did when they were unable to do in crowded busy days. Kissing her when she was asleep and letting her know how much the beating core in the system allowed love to flow through.

A kiss, and another, and another. Quiet soft heavenly kisses, so soft and gentle they were barely felt meaning J couldn't wake up from them. "My moron." Doll whispered quietly as she rested J's tail around her waist right at her hip to make sure that if she were to wake up and try to leave she would surely wake her up as well while trying to untie the knot at her side that kept her close and in place to her.

The end

[konigsblog]

toxic! price/ regular price headcannons/general analysis? pretty pleaseee. (sfw and nsfw🥺) im trying to write him for the first time and im struggling!! (would also love to hear your general analysis/hcs on the other boys as well!) ((you’re like my favorite cod blog and you’re just so talented i had to ask you)

lots of love and well wishes<3

- 🥐

thank you so so much!!! im so glad to be your favourite blog, it means a lot to me <33 i cant thank you enough for your support, thank you 🫶💐!!;

price analysis, and toxic!price headcannons.

TRIGGER WARNING; HEAVY MENTIONS FOR SUICIDAL, SELF HATRED AND SELF HARM THOUGHTS AND INTENTIONS, cheating, misogyny, being an ALCOHOLIC and addicted to alcohol, manipulative behaviour, price makes you feel worthless, being used for your body, toxic behaviour from price. (message me if i missed any)

my personal analysis. (read tw above)

price is a captain, he believes he's always right and never takes the blame for any wrongdoing - unless it's from a mission or death. he's an alcoholic due to the stress of the soldiers, their life on the line. laswell may try to get him to stop, but no therapy can help this hardened soldier.

he never really believes he's good enough. overworking himself and drinking multiple coffees to stay awake just to write hundreds of reports, rushed. he doesn't sleep, barely atleast. he'll stay up, contemplating suicide as he thinks about the many soldiers he's lost. it may be the reason he can't bring himself to start a family; the fear of losing everything, either from suicide, death, or his unstoppable alcoholic behaviour that only get worse as he continues to live.

he's definitely planned out his entire suicide, a gun always beside him. price tells people it's for safety, but is it really safety if the life that's on the line is his? that he could be pointing that at his forehead and pushing the trigger, guts and bloods all over the bathroom floor. but he won't, because of simon. simon views price as a father, how caring he is for the others mental health, no one ever checking up on him.

simon is like a son to price, the way he admires and looks up to him like a father, the father he never had and the son he'll never have. he's caring and affectionate which is why he wants kids of his own, to sew them bloom like a flower of gardens, pretty colours of crayons covering the white walls.

laswell and price had a relationship, both desperate for love after years without it. laswell realised she was a lesbian and price agreed that this wasn't the best relationship, because it wasn't. but a part of john didn't want to let go; saying he was unmarried in his forties felt odd, unnatural. he really wants someone to love, someone to care for him and give you a reason to stay, but without that, he's suicidal.

if he ever did let someone in, he wouldn't feel as if he deserves them, unlovable. pushing them away or lashing out whilst drunk, crying when you still comfort him despite his yelling. looking at himself in the mirror and seeing a monster - knuckles bloodied with pieces of glass stuck in his fist and layering the ground. forcing his hands into the shards to make himself bleed, believing he deserves pain. you wrap him up in gauze and keel him beside you, but he can never truly feel comfortable. the idea of being loved despite having blood stained on his boots makes his skin crawl. you deserve better.

personally, my analysis on his character is that he's cold-hearted and can't let anyone in even if he's so desperate for love, no one to warm his lonely heart. he takes pride in being a captain, his boys, his team mean everything to him. it's why he won't kill himself, won't pull the trigger on himself. he can't see gaz's face at the news, soaps humorous personality slowly withering away, or witness simon lose himself, losing the father that was never his.

toxic!price headcannons.

toxic!price who uses you for your body. he doesn't bother denying it; your tight pussy and perky tits, or when you suck his cock so nicely like that, drives him wild. you're mainly there to benefit him, like a servant, his slave.

gets so pissy when you don't listen. he's a borderline alcoholic and needs his beer, so when you get into screaming matches about his behaviour, he grits his teeth grabbing a beer from the fridge and gives you a cold hard look - not appreciating the efforts you put it to get him better.

toxic!price who's the biggest asshole you've ever met. who scoffs and rolls his eyes when you bring up feminism, saying something sexist or misogynistic just to get under your skin. or who doesn't care about your own personal needs, you're just some fucktoy he can use whenever he likes.

toxic!price who uses manipulative behaviour. who controls your lift and calls you a slag for mentioning enjoying some time at a bar, that you're just asking for attention. even if you tell him that you're just meeting with some friends, he'll force you back into the bathroom and make you wash away the makeup.

toxic!price who says you look ill when you don't have makeup on, that you look different (and he doesn't say it in a nice way.) he's the man to roll his eyes and say you look ugly when you're crying just so you stop making so much noise, who doesn't care about your personal feelings.

he pushes your body against his own as he sleeps, mindlessly, asleep. he doesn't do it on purpose but it gives you butterflies in your stomach, knowing you shouldn't feel this way about a toxic man like him.

he's cheated on you before, multiple times. he'd came home with women and made out with them on his lap, kissing them the same way you do, maybe nicer. god, you're lying if you say you didn't care, because you felt your heart break into a million pieces.

you don't know how to react, packing a few thingss into your purse and leaving the house, him throwing the woman off his lap to chase after you. forcing her out the house as he goes after you, grabbing you and pinning you against an alleyway wall, whispering aggressively to you under his breath. he genuinely doesn't really understand why you care so much, after all, you're just a fleshlight, right?

toxic!price who forces you to come home. and after that, he'll beg you for sex because that other woman didn't feel as tight as you did. it makes you feel horrible; insecure and lost. and he'll get all upset and annoyed when you refuse, that you're tired or not in the mood.

toxic!price who refers to you as a bitch, whore. he's the person to call you ‘woman’ as if it's a derogatory term, even though it's not. you'll berate him for this, “you're just a cumsleeve, doll, c'mon, let's be honest with ourselves.”

finding yourself between his thighs more times than not. your lips wrapped around his meaty cock while he forces you further down his shaft, complimenting you for being such a good girl for him - the only time he'll praise you; for sucking cock.

too bad he cums so much, all sticky and pearly running down your throat, making you gag from the smell of his musky balls and gross tasting semen. he laughs and forces your face into his balls, humping your pretty face when you refuse to suck his balls.

you broke up with him once and somehow ended up back in this mess, but now you're married and divorcing is too expensive so you're stuck with this dickhead forever :(

[cartoonrival]

☕️ ill humor you lets talk about hilson

the characters in house md are mostly pretty one note. like they don't have a ton going on, they're pretty easy to figure out, they might have a secret or something but once you find that out its really easy to see how it informs their decisions and behaviors. 13 is probably the best example of a character who was set up to be someone with a lot going on, and while i do obviously like her i think shes funny and i like her dynamic with house and i like how she took him to a lesbian bar because wilson paid her to make house feel better after cuddy broke up with him(i think that was the context) and i like how cagey she is. but once you find out that she's genetically predisposed to huntingtons everything she does is basically a consequence of that. chase has catholic guilt and daddy issues. cameron has a savior complex that makes her seek out broken people because the commitment of someone who could actually stay with her forever is frightening. foreman needs to be the smartest and most mature person in the room because he needs to separate himself from his criminal brother and prove that he not only deserves to be where he is but he deserves better than where he is. they're all fun as supporting characters but as individuals they don't have a ton going on that makes them super interesting in their own right for longer than one episode focused on them.

house and wilson are pretty undeniably the most actually real characters in the series. house is a caricature, sure, but his addiction and his pain avoidant behavior and his obsessiveness is played so beautifully that it suspends your disbelief that a person so simultaneously mean and successful could possibly exist. the way his obsessive nature seeps into every fucking thing he does, his work as a diagnostician, his substance abuse, his fucking relationship with wilson, gives his struggles depth. his job is framed as a secondary addiction-- he's warned against going back to it after rehab. his desperate need to avoid feeling pain, even at the expense of feeling anything at all, defines the way that he carries himself. his obsessiveness and his need to be correct and his disregard for others as individuals is why he manipulates people into staying with him more often than they ever stay with him on purpose.

i already talked about wilson in the other post about why he stays with house, but legitimately ive never seen a character like that! it's so easy to brush him off as "the nice one" and that's how everybody in the story other than house views him. but he's not!!! wilson is drawn to people who are broken, but when they don't need him to fake kindness anymore he realizes that he doesn't like who they are and they don't like who he is. wilson is a person best suited to talk only to people who are dying, which is why he's an oncologist.

hilson met in a bar when wilson threw a bottle at a mirror and shattered it, which is an action so apparently uncharacteristic but simultaneously house was lucky enough to be there are the right moment to glimpse the angry and lonely person that wilson actually is, and if house hadn't ever seen that he might not have ever known that part of wilson was there. they are the only characters who choose to hang out! who choose to be together because they just like being around each other! when house gets out of prison in s8 wilson tries to convince himself that he doesn't like house, that he doesn't need house, but he does!!!! because he's lonely and strange!!!! because no one else in the world hates apologies and kindnesses like house, and those are the two things that wilson is incapable of pulling himself out of in the company of anyone remotely normal! so wilson punches him in the fucking nose and they go out for dinner!!!!!

part of house's obsessive nature and fear of pain and self-hate means that he does everything he can to push wilson away. if he pushes wilson away on purpose, then it won't hurt when he finally reaches the last straw. plus, added benefit, wilson is terribly interesting, and its fascinating to see what he'll put up with and what will happen when he snaps. house needs to see what it would take to make wilson stop loving him, and any time he thinks he might've gotten there he feels so horrible because house would rather be dead then live in a world where wilson isn't his friend (this is paraphrased but explicitly canon), but wilson always forgives him. wilson doesn't enable house because he's too nice to stop him, he enables house because he is more like him than anyone other than house (and maybe wilson) could ever recognize. he enables him because he's in house's corner. because he loves him.

the final arc and wilson's cancer, specifically the episode where house administers his chemo, is sooooooo important because not only is house taking care of wilson in the way that wilson has been taking care of house through 1million fuckups through the whole series, including and most relevantly in the throes of addiction, but house picks up the role with such an insane tenderness that you can see him realizing that he cannot make this about him and that losing wilson is a real possibility and that if wilson doesn't die with house than he'll die alone. he gives wilson the last of his vicodin, he gives him the last of his morphine and he tells them that all the two of them will ever need is in that room. and he cradles wilson's head with one hand while wilson begs him not to take him to the hospital because dying there would be so awful because wilson would be told all the lies that he fucking hates telling. and wilson tells house that he deserves to get cancer and house doesn't say anything. its the most dire point of the series because both of them realize that dying alone and in pain is the only alternative to letting themselves be the opposite person they've been cultivating, wilson letting himself be cared for and be mean and house doing something for someone because he loves them and because he wants them to be okay

[sannasruins]

blue haired girl

hado nejire x reader

warnings: growing apart, unrequited feelings, abandonment, non-descriptive self-harm, lesbians (the horror!)

a/n: there's a bit of time skipping in this, so i’ve labeled things as their verses in the songs and the years (1, 2, and 3A) + semesters of high school they took place in. is nejire adhd/autistic coded? i cant tell, maybe its because i see the way she is as my normal (adhd) that i cant tell. i'm basing her personality strongly off the wiki bc she really hasn't had that much air time.

word count: 2.9k

inspired by and based on tv girl's- blue hair

Verse 1 - First Semester 1A

You and Nejire met on your first day of high school, class 1A. Both of you had quirks that were more powerful than the rest of the girls in your class, assuming that the two of you thought that you were superior to them and were already looking down on them, they took initiative and distanced themselves from you at the start. This left the two of you with only two options, have no friends, be a lonely outcast for the foreseeable future, or become friends. Obviously, it was an easy choice, and it was nice that the two of you got along well, and probably would have become friends even if you weren’t put in that unfortunate social situation. 

She was a blunt girl, not really knowing when it was the appropriate time, if at all, to say something that she wanted to say. She often ended up saying things that were accidentally hurtful, though if you let her know, she would instantly feel remorseful and apologize incessantly. She wasn’t always sure how to make a joke, often her attempts falling flat, but she was bright, and cheery, and had so much knowledge that she longed to share. You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at her as you listened to her ramble about the newest thing, she learned that week on national geographic. 

One day, in the middle of your first year, she asked you how to be funny. You were taken aback, and asked her back, “you think I’m funny?” She nodded with a small smile.

You contemplated on how you should respond to her difficultly abstract question, “I don’t think that’s something you can teach.” 

She looked down, her smile falling off her face sent a pang of guilt to your heart. You quickly tried to backtrack, “I think you’re funny though Hado! You’re constantly making me smile and laugh!”. Her eyes met yours, a furrow forming on her brow, you stammered on, “Maybe not everyone thinks you’re funny, but I think that’s true for everyone! You just got to find the people that do think you’re funny and like being around you… like me.” You held eye contact with her despite the bright flush that made its way to your cheeks, ask if you were trying to transfer your conviction over to her.  She brushed off your almost confession with a giggle and a change of topic.

Chorus 1- Second Semester 2A

As you both aged, Nejire started to get more notice than you. Not that you were jealous, you being too enamored with her to care, no, you were just happy that she was getting the recognition you thought she so obviously deserved. It did sting though, when she would turn down your invitations for afterschool dates poorly vailed by you as hangouts. She needed to train though, she would say, and dismiss you with a “next time, okay y/n?”

Sometimes as you left the school building on your way home you would take the long way, past the training fields to watch her for a little bit, training with two boys from your class. You wondered why she didn’t ask you to train with her, to help her. You would never ask though, far too afraid of the answer that seemed to be pulling at the hem of your shirt, demanding your attention. She’s just focusing on training, it’s not like she suddenly stopped liking you. It’s not like she wanted to stop being your friend. It’s not like she was purposely ignoring you. Right?

Verse 2- Third Semester 1A 

The two of you were sitting in a cafe after school, one that Nejire had shown you a picture of on Pinterest and said the two of you had to go for their cute specialty foods. You had gotten a parfait, the cream on top having been manipulated into the shape of a cat, Nejire got a jasmine tea latte, the art in the foam had her swooning and whipping out her phone to snap pictures of it in multiple angles as she told you about her Pinterest page’s aesthetic, you listened along, slightly confused at the idea of people posting on Pinterest like it was a social media but not questioning it. After she had taken enough pictures of both her and your orders, the two of you started on your treats, she took a long sip from her latte and when she placed it back down on the table, she had suddenly grown a distinguished mustache made of foam. It made you smile so hard your cheeks hurt, trying to keep your laugher a courteous volume to the other patrons was exceedingly difficult as she didn’t seem to notice her new facial accessory and was looking at you very confused. In spite of your shakes of laughter you managed to raise a shaky hand to point at your upper lip, signaling to her what you had found so funny. She raised a finger to her top lip, touching the foam and then pulled it back to see what was on her face. Realizing what she had done, her face blushed a warm pink as she quickly grabbed her napkin to wipe it away. You had finally calmed down and noticed that she had missed a little bit on the far edge.

“Nejire, you still have some,” you told her and pointed on yourself where it was on her, picked the napkin back up and scrubbed at her face, but on the wrong side.

“No, other side,” you specified. She again rubbed at her face with the now crumpled napkin but somehow still managed to miss the small smudge of foamed milk.

Not thinking, you rose and leaned across the table, before wiping the white away with your thumb. You sat back down, and without a thought in your head, licked it off of your thumb. 

You noticed her face flush, even more than before, now a hot red; you realized the suggestiveness of what you had just done, and at the same time, felt an explosion of butterflies manifest themselves into your gut. 

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking down with a slight smile on her face, and you reddened. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while before she broke it.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

You didn’t think before you responded.

“Yes.” You hesitated and then added on, “I think you’re really beautiful.”

The two of you fell back into silence.

The purgatory of not knowing how the two of you felt about each other was horrible, but the fear of rejection, not just of a confession but of you as a person, rejecting your identity, kept you in your place. 

There really was no winning.

Chorus 2- First Semester 3A

It hurt, seeing her every day, but not being able to talk to her about anything and everything in the way that you had grown used to. She was part of the big 3 now, she was revered by everyone now, she was strong and kind and smart and now they were all seeing what you had from the start. It was selfish of you, you knew, but you wish they hadn't noticed. 

She wasn’t being purposefully cruel in her withdrawal from you, she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she had just forgotten, she had just been stretched too thin and something had to go. It was still mean though, and it was still cruel.

You felt the loneliest now, so much so it was almost incomparable. Your days now spent in silence, and slowly falling into the motions. School, train, sleep, school, train, sleep, school, train, sleep. With nothing to break the monotony, life became dull, and you were sinking into a different kind of blue, not the blue of an eye like you did when you first saw Hado Nejire, but into the blue of the mind, getting darker, muddier, harder to see what’s in front of you. 

You became more reckless, not in retaliation but due to a slow building and concerning lack of self-preservation. Often throwing yourself into dangerous positions with villains, jumping solo into fights, you had no probability of winning alone, asking for more and more hours at your internship. It kept it at bay for a little while, the numbness, but as with most things, it did not last. You feared you were slowly but surely becoming a shell of your former self.

You needed something more, you needed to keep yourself feeling, needed to keep yourself human, needed to keep yourself. So, you resorted to means you probably shouldn’t have. Flame, blade, burns, blood. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was something. 

On an especially hot September day it was odd to see students wearing their long-sleeved winter uniforms, but not enough to raise many questions. One girl asked, “Aren’t you hot?”, but you brushed it off, explaining that you just ran cold. A bold-faced lie to anyone who knew you, but none of them did. 

As you were working on your lesson book, Hado Nejire walked past your desk on her way to the front of the room, glancing down at you, maybe out of habit, she got a glance of lines of damaged skin, some already faded, but many varying degrees of red. She faltered in her step, double taking, confused as to what she was seeing. Not wanting to cause a scene in class or be caught staring, she almost seamlessly continued walking, and if one hadn’t been watching her, they wouldn’t have noticed her split second reel.

She stopped you by the door after class, and when you tried to scoot by her, thinking she wasn’t aware she was in the doorway, she blocked its entirety with her body, staring you down. She grabbed you by the hand and led you to an unused stairwell as you stumbled behind her hastened pace. You didn’t notice it at the time, but she was especially careful when grabbing you, fearing that she would take hold somewhere that would cause you pain, fearing to reopen possible wounds.

 There was a furrow in your brow as you looked at her, wordlessly questioned why she had dragged you there. She turned your arm over, her hand still holding yours, and gently raised your crisp white sleeve, a gasp of dismay escaping her lips as her eyes raked over your battered arm. She dropped your hand only to quickly grab your other one, pulling the sleeve of that arm up too. You were watching her face as she grit her teeth at the sight, her eyebrows pushed into an expression you didn’t know, one you had never seen before even after all the years you had known her. Her head turned and her eyes met yours, weirdly, you thought, they were filled with tears. 

“Why?”

This pushed some button you did not know you had, and an unexpected, hot rage filled you. 

“What do you mean, Hado?” you did not spit her name, but she flinched as if it was filled with venom.

“Y/n…” she trailed off. You remained silent, seething. 

“This isn’t like you, why would you do this?” 

You didn’t answer her for a long time before sighing, “You wouldn’t know Hado, you haven’t spoke to me in well over 5 months.”

“I’m sorry, I-” her words almost a whimper, but you interrupted her. 

“Please, don’t. I don’t think I can stomach it Hado, I think, whatever you’re going to say next, will only make things worse.”

She clamped her mouth shut, her lips in a pale line, and nodded tearfully, before choking out an “okay”. 

Things didn’t change much after that, though she was more watchful of you, you could, at times, feel her eyes boring into you from across the classroom or training halls and fields, and you started feeling a little different, slowing down in your efforts to drive away the numbness, as the numbness seemed to seep away from you. Less and less, you found yourself feeling as if there was nowhere else to go with a knife in your grasp. 

You also no longer prayed that she would make time for you, disillusioning yourself, and realizing that she was not perfect, though feelings as strong as yours don’t just simply disappear due to disillusionment. 

Verse 3- Third Semester 3A

Her hair had been burnt off, now in a blunt bob, and what once had been marred and blistered skin was now just slightly tinged pink. It still hurt you to see though, quietly observing. She was different now, bolder, more self-assured, Maybe, you mused, something had been burnt off along with her hair. You were different now too though, you were better. You had sought counseling, speaking to the trusted hero you were interning under, and they helped you find and utilize resources to mitigate your mental health. You felt lighter, you were still lonely, but you were now a little bit more at peace with your solitude, and less afraid to put yourself out there, slowly becoming friends with the sidekicks at your internship who were just a couple years your senior. 

Chorus 3- After Graduation

Sometimes you would see her on TVs in coffee shops, or in ads in magazines, though if you looked you could find yourself too, maybe not as often, but still there. Both of you were making a name for yourselves in the hero world. 

You had started dating a pretty sidekick from your agency, she was one of the first people you had befriended when you started putting in the effort to get better, she had been there for you through many bad nights, and many more good ones. You really, truly loved her. And yes, sometimes you would miss your first love, but not in a way of current longing, but for a past. You would never leave your girlfriend though, even if you got the chance to go back, even if they told you everything would turn out the way you had begged and hoped and dreamt. Those were no longer your dreams. 

It was in line at a coffee shop that you ran into her. She looked nice, more mature, gracefully slipping into her early 20’s, face less youthful, but still bright with a smile. 

The two of you chatted as you waited for your orders to be taken, and continued afterwards, as you waited for them to be made. 

She was direct in her flirting, touching your arm, complementing you, laughing a little too much at things that weren’t that funny. You did not reciprocate. 5 years ago, if she had been doing what she was doing now, you would have been over the moon, indescribably happy, but now, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were flattered, maybe a bit annoyed, but the feelings were so watered down, so muted that you could barely describe them as anything. You were happy to talk to an old friend though. 

“We should hang out some time,” she told you after your orders had been picked up from the counter and the two of you started towards the front doors, “go on a little afterschool date like we used to.” She smiled and winked.

You politely smiled back at her and opened your mouth to reply, when your phone started going off, the ring tone you had affectionately assigned to your girlfriend, playing. 

“Oh, sorry it’s my girlfriend, let me answer real quick,” not waiting for a response from Nejire, you picked up the phone.

“Hey love, what’s up?” You inquired through the phone.

“Are you almost home yet?”

“Yeah, I just picked up your coffee from the coffee place two blocks down.”

“Oh yay! Thank you baby, see you soon, I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

You ended the call and turned towards Nejire apologetically, “Sorry about that!”

You exited the shop, Nejire holding the door open for you, and stood next to her on the sidewalk, close to the building and out of the way. 

“Oh!” you realized you hadn’t answered her question yet, “yeah, it would be nice to hang out and catch up.” This time, hangout had no hidden meanings or crossed fingers. It was purely platonic. “I miss you,” she confessed. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you were really never expecting her to say that. 

“I guess things ended up differently, not the way I wanted I mean.” she clarified. “It’s hard seeing you in the news, or in my fashion magazines, but not being able to see you in person anymore. I just… miss you a lot y/n, even though you’ve not gone anywhere.”

You hmm and nod, “you’re right, I haven’t gone anywhere. That was you, Hado Nejire. I’m proud of you, you're becoming a great hero.” You smiled at her softly. She stood, unmoving, looking at you, maybe waiting for something more, but you were no longer the person who would be able to provide that.

“Well, I need to get going before all this ice melts,” you shook the iced coffee in your hands, “or my girlfriend will have my head.”

“Oh, uh, okay” she stammered. 

“Message me! My numbers still the same, if you still have it. You could meet my girlfriend too, I think you’d like her, she’s amazing.”

Nejire nodded, watching your figure as you walked away, bitter jealousy and remorse making their home in her sour stomach.

Hi! I know it may seem like I am romanticizing self-harm in this but I promise I am not. As it is something I have struggled with for many years I am just reflecting my own struggles and thoughts, and trying to represent a mental illness as what it is. That doesn't mean it is something you should do, and if you struggle with it and are tempted after reading, here are some healthier alternatives. Please do not hurt yourselves, lovelies.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: july 2023

I don't have a cool and witty opening for this one. I read a fuck of a lot of books this month and I want to tell you about them LET'S GO

Black Water Sister (Zen Cho, 2021) - Black Water Sister has a very fun premise: a closeted lesbian and unemployed recent graduate moves back to Malaysia with her parents and is already having a bad enough time when she starts hearing the voice of her dead grandmother, who turns out to have been deeply involved in supernatural organized crime. our hapless protagonist becomes a medium against her will, and has to navigate to world of Malaysian spirits and superstition to lay her grandma to rest. unfortunately the actual style of the story wasn't more me; although definitely adult fiction, the prose is breezy in a way I affiliate strongly with YA, which is not to my personal taste but is still so hashtag valid. if you're one of the countless people trying to make that jump from YA to adult fiction and you like queer urban fantasy then Black Water Sister might be a great fit for you, although I should provide a warning for a pretty surprisingly graphic near-rape in the book's climax that really took me by surprise in a story that's otherwise pretty zany in its violence.

The Bride Test (Helen Hoang, 2019) - I think I said last month that Alexis Hall's A Lady for a Duke was the best so far of the romance-novel-every-month scheme I'm trying to pull off this year. the Bride Test has pretty swiftly displaced it; have I finally discovered the really good romance novels? (worry not; I know what I'm reading for August and my hopes are. low.) our two protagonists, Mỹ/Esme (her chosen American/English name) and Khai, are both genuinely charming and are pretty strong characters independent of each other, which cannot be said for A Lot of romance protags. despite the absolute insanity of how they met (yes, Khai's mother went to Vietnam and offered, uneducated a poor single mother a tourist visa in exchange for trying to seduce her autistic son. yes, that's shady. don't think about it too hard) and Esme waiting until WAY too late in the game to reveal the existence of HER LIVING HUMAN CHILD, I liked this book a lot. it's silly and heartfelt and I had fun; what else do you need? 5/5 eggplant emojis.

Giovanni's Room (James Baldwin, 1956) - there's probably nothing I can say about Giovanni's Room that I could say that someone smarter and gayer hasn't already said, but god. it really is breathtaking. I so often see this book talked about as a gay tragedy, and honestly that feels like almost too glib of a description. it's a really meticulous dissection of white male masculinity and the claustrophobic constraints there of, and our narrator's claustrophobic fear of divesting himself from the power that he's entitled to by virtue of being a white American man perceived as a heterosexual. this man would rather live in repressed misery for his entire life than risk being like those effeminate faggots at the gay club, but spoiler alert! being miserable doesn't make you better than your fellow fags; it just means you're miserable AND a fag. sharp and painful and so so so smart. also I'm going to summon @zaricats because I was supposed to tell you what I thought about this book. oops!

Lone Women (Victor LaValle, 2023) - okay so listen. did I just say Black Water Sister wasn't really for me because of the simplistic prose? yes. did I really enjoy the very sparse, straightforward style of Lone Women? also yes. leave me alone, I contain contradictions. anyway, Lone Women is a ripping piece of historical fiction spliced with supernatural secrets, based on LaValle's research into 19th century Black women homesteaders who made their lives in Montana. LaValle opens on a scene of irresistible intrigue - Adelaide Henry, lone woman, sets out for Montana with a mysteriously heavy trunk after burning down her family's California farm with her parents' mutilated corpses inside. and boy, does it escalate from there! it's a story about isolation and community and the people who are failed by so-called close knit small towns, and the ways in which vulnerable people band together to protect one another. it also makes the compelling point that maybe, just maybe, the real monsters were your local transphobe and her husband's lynch mob all along.

Black Disability Politics (Sami Schalk, 2022) - what a cool book! Schalk's argument begins with the idea that Black disability politics are distinct from predominantly white mainstream disability politics, and are therefore often overlooked in conversation, activism, and academia. Schalk analyzes the historical work of the Black Panthers and the National Black Women's Health Project to showcase what she describes as Black disability politics in action. in Schalk's conception, Black disability politics take a much more holistic approach to disability, conceptualizing as just one form (and, frequently, as a result of) of oppression tangled up with a myriad of others that cannot be meaningfully addressed when they're treated as separate issues. the book concludes in interviews with contemporary Black disability activists and organizers that shed light on ways in which the wider movement is often unwelcoming to folks of color, and an exhortation from Schalk for readers to continue the conversation well beyond the confines of the book. in a killer show of praxis, the entire book has been made available to read in PDF form, and I strongly recommend giving it a look!

The River of Silver (S.A. Chakraborty, 2022) - mentally I am kicking myself a little for waiting so long to read this continuation of my beloved Daevabad trilogy, because it did take me a minute to get back into the swing and mythology of the world and that did make me feel unpleasantly like I wasn't appreciating these character-focused short stories as much as I could be. but even having said that - man! fuck I love the world of Daevabad, and I adore these characters so much. getting to see them again, even briefly, was a delight, and I am once again congratulating Nahri and Ali on being the invention of heterosexual romance. (also, on a related note, but I ADORE the way Chakraborty writes her characters having crushes. they crush SO hard and it's very sweet. these books are such big drama all the way down.)

Men We Reaped (Jesmyn Ward, 2013) - an absolute powerhouse of a memoir, and devastating the whole way down. in Men We Reaped Ward attempts to make sense of a series of tragedies that befell her community when five young Black men - beginning with Ward's younger brother - died between 2000 and 2004. the word 'unflinching' is hopelessly played out, but it's difficult to figure out how to describe the head-on way Ward explores each young man's life and ultimate end and her own upbringing. the men in Ward's history - her brother, the friends she lost, her father and other male relatives - are never idealized; their demons, miseries, infidelities, addictions, and violence are placed on full display. but Ward is also insistent on displaying these men with dignity, compassion, empathy; showing them at their best and, most importantly, as men who were loved and deserved better than the violence that poverty and racism wrought on them. it's a furious memoir, one that will leave you mourning too.

Nimona (ND Stevenson, 2015) - did I only read this so I can make more informed complaints if/when I end up watching the netflix movie with my wife? YES. but listen, it wasn't JUST petty hater behavior. Nimona is just really good, and I think I got a lot more out of it this time around that I did when I first read it years ago. this comic is wild and unfettered and so spectacularly weird; I wish more things felt the way Nimona does. I also with more things starred small girls begging to kill cops and stage a violent overthrow of the government, that rules hard. also man I love Ballister, he's SUCH a good protagonist. he's curmudgeonly, he's deeply principled, he's held a grudge for years, he's paternal, he's even gay. what a guy!

[agirlprince]

Spinning Roses: The Cycle of Abuse in Revolutionary Girl Utena

This may not be the most comprehensive meta but my best friend and I were talking about the show and it got me thinking about cyclic abuse, abusive patterns, and how this applies to Akio and Anthy primarily. General RGU trigger warnings and major spoilers lay beneath the cut so be cautious! 

The first question: What's interesting is later (I think the beginning of s2) Anthy makes a throwaway line on how akio has become like her father.... AND IT'S NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN  Really made me think if he was good as a prince.... He's really more like a "king" now right? As the head of the school??

Akio as a King: Akio is a king now and maybe he stopped being able to be a prince when he became an adult because a prince is a boy (not looking at how nobility really works but looking at it from a fairytale perspective) which is extra interesting because when he met Utena and gave her the ring he was not yet a man and in the eternal flashback he kept being shown as different ages...of boyhood. Not as he is now.

Akio’s position as chairman solidified him as king - ruling with an iron fist but he's chasing the memory of prince hood (of boyhood) and forcing these boys into a "princely" role with the duels and then destroying them and they all lose their chance at princehood when he shows them adulthood (the trauma sex car) they're truly out of the game at that point. He shows them adulthood and the all have a final duel and lose.

(Side Note): It's also interesting that Juri is a duelist as a girl of her own merit but she's a lesbian and thus can occupy a prince role. Nanami is only a duelist as an extension of her brother until the end when she ditches the second sword and fights on her own merit. But I digress because this could be its whole own separate post.

Second Question: But then what does it mean for Anthy  what was happening what'd he do??? Was it worse than first thought?? Was she inherited??  Why'd they have her in that little dress

Anthy and Dios - The Trouble With Princehood: So what does Akio’s eventual King status and Anthy’s role as the Rose Bride mean for the children they used to be? Let’s look at some relevant threads from the anime:

Anthy as a "witch" - she wanted her brother to herself, right? She wanted him to be her prince.

Anthy became a "witch" as a child after she "locked her brother up for herself"

Remember the shadow girls play when the dad says "come keep my daughter company she's lonely and it's Christmas Eve" there's only one kind of company he would be keeping a girl in the middle of the night which is fucked up on its own because he WAS still a child

Akio says to Anthy at one point, "Why must you continue to torture me?” which is very telling in terms of where he lays blame and is a potential hint as to why he labels her (unfairly) as a witch

If you're not a princess you're a witch and princesses are pure, right? And princesses only ever go to bed with their prince (and typically this would be when she's a queen)

In RGU our characters are reflections of either Anthy, Utena, or Akio

If we take the swords as a metaphor for eternal suffering and pain and sacrificing your own innocence and purity not literally swords…

Then the theory is that Dios was also probably being sexually abused (parallels to Touga and Touga is Akio in our cycle format) and Anthy having always been observant probably witnessed this and came to the thought process that if she wanted to be her brother's princess she would need to sleep with him. She sacrificed her innocence and her purity to "make her brother love her" and take her away from all other princesses to save HIM from the abuse, right?

He was probably selling himself to support them and to protect Anthy from the abuse the same way Touga did for Nanami) and Anthy interfered with that to protect HIM but that made her a witch (a succubus, a siren, a Lolita).

Alternatively Anthy sacrificed herself to the mob for her brother...instead of having sex with him she may have sacrificed herself to the CLIENTS of the prince because he was too sick/hurt to do so. Which....a thousand swords, right? I'm not saying a literal 1,000 but I am saying that sacrifice was probably the most traumatic thing anyone has ever been through. She's scared of crowds. Their faces blend together. This really doesn’t imply anything good.

Not to say that's ALL Dios did. I'm sure he did work for whomever. Build things, run errands, do chores for a little bit of pay etc. I'm sure he was chivalrous and valiant and made young girls feel special and maybe saved a couple from a bad fall or saved someone's life (he was protecting his sister, young girls probably reminded him of Anthy) and got a princely reputation...but what do adult men do to princes that they're resentful of because they lost that in their adulthood? The same thing Akio does to Touga, and Saionji and countless others. And it's implied he is used to selling his body (the chairman's wife) to get what he wants. Touga is again a parallel here.

Regardless, Dios agonized over it and hated her for it and abused her because of it but she's trapped, right? Because now she's a witch. And because now she’s ruined and nobody will ever love her. And she "did this to herself" even though she was a small girl and didn't understand adult behaviors or what she was doing but she's smart enough to know that she made this decision (and takes the blame for it even when it was not her fault) and that she has no choice now but to live with it.

She "ruined the prince" she "tempted him to do something taboo and unprincely" etc OR she ruined herself and his image of her and now must be punished for it because he feels so incredibly guilty and she’s his outlet for that. He blames her because he can’t live with himself if he sees it as his fault.

(Side Note): With regards to the dress, I think it was was symbolic of her "selling herself" to Dios and others; it's VERY likely that after they had sex and/or the mob situation he started selling her off to adults as well. It was clear they were poor. And she's "ruined" now. The dress is red for a reason.

This is what makes Anthy the Rose Bride. The spoils to the winner. A possession, an object, a “heartless doll”. She accepts her place because she is trapped by her sacrifice and her pain and her prince is dead and now there is nobody to save her. Kings rule, they don’t save.

She is disillusioned and jaded and I’m constant agony but that’s not to say that she doesn’t understand the game now, because she does. And she tries to save people from it. I stand by that the tricks on Nanami (while hilarious and often deserved) they were meant to teach her a valuable lesson and to guide her away from the path that Anthy took that she is blindly following. And it works.

This is why Nanami says "I'm not like you!" to Anthy. Because Nanami said no. She said she didn't want her brother that way. That was never what she wanted. At most she had a child-like crush on him based on admiration and adoration that would have faded over time if he treated her nicely and normally and she continued socializing with her peers because it is NOT abnormal for little girls to idolize their fathers or brothers and little girls to declare they will marry their brothers/fathers one day because all they know is that marriage = love. They don't have a proper understanding of romantic or sexual love as children, and they shouldn’t. It is an adult’s job to appropriately guide a child’s love and affection not abuse it.

Something Eternal: Dios showed Utena something eternal...right? Anthy's eternal suffering. He showed her being repeatedly stabbed with swords...which throughout the history of literature has almost ALWAYS represented penetration. She probably witnessed Anthy being raped, actually, and Dios showed her this "an innocent girl, a princess" to show her what happens to little girls who are witches.

Except that Utena just saw a little girl being hurt and vowed to become a prince that would save her and she DOES she becomes a prince who is willing to save a "witch" and loves her regardless of what she's had to do to survive, which is all Anthy needed. Someone to believe she was worth loving. Someone to validate her personhood and her agency. All girls are like the Rose Bride - but none of us want to be.

Abuse is a cycle; most abusers were abused children themselves. Dios is the abused child. Akio is the abusive adult. Dios is the prince. Akio is the King. The morning star. Lucifer. The fallen Angel. He has tasted the fruit of knowledge (adulthood) and he has forced the fruit on others. The roses keep spinning.