#also weems was brilliant

[i-like-gay-books]

just finished watching wednesday and my sister and i both agreed tyler talks like he’s in love simon

[theflashesoflove]

obstacle I

Larissa Weems x f!reader (nsfw) – series

part I :: part ll :: ao3

summary: Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

a/n: i always dreaded writing series, but this woman inspires me so much that i'm finally up for the challenge. i hope i will be consistent with my writing enough to bring this story where i want it to be. filthy, angsty and gentle. i think there will be two or three more chapters and it is also crossposted on ao3. btw i have a vague idea of what architects do so if you notice some factual mistakes let's pretend that in my silly imaginary world things work this way. the names of the chapters are lyrics from interpol's 'turn on the bright lights' album (it's brilliant, a huge recommend if you like male manipulator music like i do haha). proofread, and i hope it doesn't sound as broken as i think it does. (bracing myself) let's set this little bird free into the wild.

general warnings/tags: unhealthy online relationship, dom!larissa x sub!reader dynamics, sexting, nudes, masturbation + angst and all that stuff to come

chapter word count: 4k

Part I: you are linked to my innocence

Sitting on the balcony, you admired the sun slowly crawling up from its slumber, painting the sky with faint yellow and pink shades, warming up the cool earth. The view before you made you smile. Perhaps having trouble sleeping had its benefits – you could admire such a beautiful sunrise and feel at peace for at least the next hour, before the world would wake up and start swirling around you, overwhelming and demanding. 

Thinking of someone who was also so very demanding, you pulled out your phone and started recording the serene scenery. You tried to hold your phone still, though it was hard because of the chilly wind that made you shiver. Ending the video, you opened the messenger and sent it to a woman who made your heart sing just like the morning birds sang, greeting the sun.

You scrolled up your message history with her for a bit, smirking. What a sweet little relationship you had, one time you would send her a beautiful view out of your window, the next time – a picture of you touching yourself in the most sinful way.

Couldn’t sleep again? and What a lovely view, she replied an hour later. Not as lovely as you, though, she added after.

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Her name was Lydia and she had just the right way with her words. She would text you, Send me a picture, and you would rush out of your meeting to the bathroom to send her a selfie. She would text you, What a beautiful shirt you are wearing, unbutton it for me, and you would spend a bit more time in the bathroom sending her picture after picture. 

You didn’t know what she looked like. She rarely sent you pictures in return, and you had only one 10 seconds long video of her touching herself. Her fingers were slender, her nails were painted a burgundy red colour, and she had those plush thighs that you wanted to squeeze with your hands. She was a woman of exquisite taste – taste in music, in foods, in lingerie.

You never asked her for more. It was entirely your choice to reveal your face on one of the first videos you sent her. She once told you, Don’t call me by my name on those videos, call me your mistress. You obliged. You always did. An impulse to ask the woman if she could reveal her face bubbled up inside your chest from time to time, but you pushed it away, never willing to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps there was something she didn’t like about herself, perhaps she wanted to be more mysterious and enticing, perhaps she just needed a bit more time – and it had been a year! Never being a selfish one, you suppressed your questions and played by her rules. 

She knew a lot about your life. You didn’t realise that you barely knew about hers. You knew that her work was stressful enough to make her speak to you in an especially dirty way in the night, urging you to send new videos for her to let off steam. You could only imagine her, spread on her bed to your sinful sound and pleas. You would tell her, i wish i could see how pleased my mistress is right now, nudging her to send you a picture in return. The woman would just answer, Don’t doubt it, I am very pleased with my darling girl, thank you and end the conversation until the next morning. You knew that she played piano and was popular in high school, though a bit overshadowed by her best friend at the time. You knew that she liked long walks in nature, ice skating and that her favourite season was autumn. She never pressed you to share any details about your life, but you did it nonetheless. 

It all started rather accidentally, and you told her millions of times how glad you were that she found you. There was an old record player that you wanted to sell online, and you even gave out a Fleetwood Mac vinyl in addition to it for free. The woman contacted you, anonymous at that time, though she contacted you too late, and the record player was already sold. It didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the conversation, talking about music and antique pieces of furniture she adored. After that, everything escalated quickly – topics changing topics and bringing you into dynamics you didn’t know you would enjoy this much. She teased you a lot, and at first you acted shy and hesitant, bending under her dominance and unravelling your own fantasies over time. She wrapped you around her finger, and on one particular evening you sent her your first video. The woman made it clear that she was hopeful to receive more of those in the future. 

Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. If you told any of your friends about Lydia, they would tell you that you went nuts. They would tell you to stop texting her immediately and delete the chat to destroy the blackmail material that you’d shared with a stranger. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

Back in the day, you suggested moving the conversation from reselling website direct messages to a more convenient messenger, one that the woman hadn’t heard of before. It took her two days to create an account for contacting you there. Her profile picture was a bush of red flowers, her personal information included just a lyric of a song she liked, and all of it was only for your eyes to see. Not much, but her empty profile on an app which she signed in just for you never aroused any suspicions. Well, sometimes it did, but then she would ask you how your day went and the sweetness of the texts the two of you shared washed your worries away. 

In fact, it wasn’t all about sexting. You could see that she was genuinely interested and caring, and you didn’t send her pictures and videos every day, after all. Maybe… three times a week? Five if she was desperate. She woke up earlier than you if you managed to fall asleep the night before and always brightened your day from its beginning with a sweet ‘Good morning, darling’ message. She always wished you a good night and checked in throughout the day, answering your texts and moving the conversation forward. Sometimes she would even send you flowers, and a delivery man would call you and ask for the address. The man would appear on your porch with a delicate bouquet later, a card attached to the wrapping would say, ‘To my favourite girl – L’. You could only giggle and smile to yourself for the rest of the day. No matter how hard you tried to get her number to send something in return, the woman would always brush you off. You can send me a picture in return, she would text you. That was exactly what you would do next. 

You’d always start with pictures. On days when you felt especially good about yourself, you didn’t even wait for her to ask. Undressing, you would send her several pictures, losing yet another piece of closing on every photo. Sometimes it would take her too long to reply, and you would record a video for her in advance. There wasn’t any surface in your house that wasn’t caught on camera while you would thrust your fingers inside, making it all pretty and appealing to look at. The sounds you made were an absolute turn on for her, and you always ensured that you put on a good show. It wasn’t even necessary to try hard, you would just recall all the dirty messages she sent you over the course of your relationship, you would imagine how it would feel to be held by her, how those long fingers would pound into you, how her lips would tease your flushed skin. You had a good imagination, and it was enough. The tiniest bits of her that were available to you – all of it was enough, that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. A hopeless romantic you were, blindly expecting that one day she would surprise you and reveal herself, and tell you how much she wanted to meet you in person. Still, it never came. That day never came, and you tried not to overthink it. You were supposed to be grateful for what you already had, after all.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

I have a very important meeting today and I just know that it won’t go easy on me. Can you please bend over your desk for me this evening, dearest? Lydia texted you a few hours later after receiving the video. 

of course, mistress, you answered playfully. your boss doesn’t give you a break, huh? ;)

Thank you, darling girl, I’ll be waiting, she replied, ignoring the message about her boss. 

You made sure to text her during your lunch break, checking if she didn’t forget to eat in between her piles of work. She told you that she had a snack and it was very nice of you to bother. A couple of hours later she asked how were you feeling since you didn’t get any sleep last night. You told her that you were running on energy drinks and green tea and she jokingly scolded you for the energy drinks part. It made you bite your lower lip, how caring she was for you in return.

The desk in your office was never neat. Scattered papers, your laptop always on charge, heated up with architect software. You hunched over the plan with a pencil in your hand, making sure that the plumbing system of the building made sense at all. Working in a reconstruction and restoration company, you never really got a chance to do the part you studied for in the first place. Always checking other architects’ plans and fixing their mistakes for them, not having the opportunity to do something of your own. Your days were filled with somewhat ridiculous tasks yet even those managed to make you feel the struggle of workload.

The surface of your desk shuddered when your phone buzzed with a reminder about forthcoming meeting, and you straightened, feeling a familiar ache in your lower back. You threw on a jacket, took your phone and notebook and left your office, politely smiling at coworkers passing by. 

The meeting went as smoothly as always – at least you enjoyed the working atmosphere of the company. Your boss talked about the updates in the company policy and proceeded to inform the staff about upcoming projects. He announced that the Principal of Nevermore school contacted them for the reconstruction work, and your coworkers didn’t even try to hide their opinions on outcasts and how infamous the school was, especially after the causality that happened a few months ago. Not paying attention to their grumbling, you thought it would be a great opportunity to finally show your skills, and your boss thought so too.

“Y/N, you will take over this project. I’m passing you the papers with details, I feel like the time to shine has come!” he said, approaching your seat with a folder in his hands. Some of your coworkers sighed in relief, glad that they wouldn’t be involved with Nevermore. It made you wince – you never thought badly of outcasts like the majority of others did, the idea of being hostile towards someone just because they were different made you nauseous like it would do to any decent person. “The Principal insists on cooperation, and I have to warn you – you will probably have to visit the site more times than would be necessary for a usual project. I hope it won’t be a problem,” he said with a light smirk.

You smiled and bit your cheek, anticipation tingling on your fingertips. “No, it won’t be a problem. Thank you,” you uttered, taking the folder. “When am I supposed to start?” 

“Next week. We arranged a meeting with Principal Weems, she said it was very important for the school, and I quote, ‘to thoroughly negotiate the reconstruction process’.” 

The school was enormous, but the work was connected to a relatively small part of it, a tower that was destroyed recently. You spent the rest of your evening studying the documents – an old plan of the school that included the tower. It was impressive how old this building was. Besides, you would be taking part in preserving and reconstructing the historic site, the whole prospect of reconstructing a part of Nevermore ensemble sounded like a dream coming true. The fact of such a project being granted to you to work on would be unbelievable if deep down you didn’t know the reason for it. It seemed that no one from your company wanted to work with Nevermore, but the school was about to pay generously, so they had to find someone to 'deal with the outcasts'. How foolish your coworkers were for declining such an opportunity, you thought, smiling to yourself.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

Back home, you didn’t bother to change into your indoor clothes, knowing full well that you would need to be completely naked soon anyway. Having had a quick meal and relaxed on the couch, closing your eyes for a little too long than you planned, you finally entered your bedroom and started setting a scene. Sometimes the lengths you went to make a perfect video for Lydia made you embarrassed, but how could you do it any other way? The woman’s attention was worth all of your efforts. You cleaned up your desk, returning previously forgotten mugs to the kitchen, shoving papers into the desk drawer and moving the pile of laundry laying on the floor out of frame. The curtains had to be closed for the last sun rays entering your bedroom not messing with the lighting on camera, the cosy shine of a garland and the dim light of a bedside lamp would be enough to illuminate your form in the most lovely way. You checked your reflection in the mirror and wiped away a few particles of mascara from under your eyes. For a second you tensed, your insecurity taking over. Would Lydia like you as much if she saw you in person? Wouldn’t she be disappointed that a flawless image you tried to create for her wasn’t as flawless in real life? Perhaps that was why she didn’t want to meet up in the first place? Did she already know that wasting the time of her busy schedule would completely disenchant her perception of you? You took a deep breath and shook your head, backing off from the mirror. It was alright. She liked you. Still you desperately wanted to be perfect for her. 

The next thing you did was distract yourself with having fun and a bit of a struggle with setting up a phone stand out of books. After you were sure that your phone wouldn’t slide down halfway through the recording, you set a 10 seconds timer and started slowly unbuttoning your shirt to catch the process on camera. The photo turned out just the way you wanted from the first try, revealing the right amount of skin and a glimpse of your lingerie. It didn’t even matter in the end, but you were always attentive to details. Completely taking off your shirt, you grabbed your phone and took the second picture – a close up of your lacy bra, nipples visible through the fabric, collarbones calling to be showered with your mistress’ kisses. The sound of timer counting down rang across your bedroom once again, you unhooked your bra to send it down onto the floor and stepped back, already topless, unzipping your pants and craning your neck to the side with a soft smile on your lips. Oh, how much you loved spoiling Lydia even if sometimes it stressed you out to the point of worrying about your imperfections. Your pants made their way onto the floor as well, out of the frame, of course, and as the next timer started counting down, you rushed to your desk to bend over it prettily, exposing your cheeks for the last photo. Then, you returned to your phone and sent pictures to Lydia, smiling to yourself at the thought of her ending her tedious day of work and seeing your message.  

It took you a fair amount of time to warm yourself up for the video by bringing yourself to the edge with a vibrator, uncomfortably sprawled in your chair and growing hotter with every second. You barely managed to stop yourself from climaxing, removing the vibrator from your clit and standing up on wobbly legs to continue your filming session. The phone was settled into its makeshift stand again, the sun finally settled, not peeking through the curtains anymore, which made the scene look especially intimate in the dimmed lights, and you were ready to absolutely ruin yourself for Lydia. After pressing the record button, you bent over your desk once again, and massaged your cheeks, squeezing and pulling to reveal your glistening sex. Having satisfied your need to tease the woman a little more, you spread your legs wider and took a toy that rested on the desk the whole time.

Teasing your wet entrance with the toy, you pleaded into the silence of your room, “Oh, please, fuck me… fuck me, mistress, please…”

By the time you finished, you were worn out – the position was rather uncomfortable, especially when you had to work with your hand from behind. You pressed the side of your face against the surface and sighed happily, “Thank you, mistress, you are so good to me.” There was a deep red mark of the edge of the desk on your knee, the wood was digging into your skin almost the whole time you were filming after you decided to move your leg higher for better access and view. The awkward scene of you grunting as you lifted yourself from the desk and padded over to your bed to stop the recording was cropped out later. 

An hour passed by, and Lydia finally answered your messages, saying that she was done with the meeting and work for the day, ready to witness you coming undone for her. 

You look absolutely ravishing, dear. Let me see how you used that toy on your pretty pussy?

are you already in bed? You asked, trying to withhold the sweet video a little longer.

No, darling. I’m taking a bath right now, she answered, arousing the urge in you to ask her if she could give you at least a glimpse of her body basking in the warm water. You didn’t ask her. 

I need you, came a text seconds later, and you couldn’t resist her anymore. 

The video went on for about 11 minutes, you didn’t know if you should have made it shorter or longer for her liking. You wondered how long it would take her, you wondered what she would use to pleasure herself and how it would feel to be with her in that moment, spreading shower gel all over her breasts and teasing her with your thigh pressed against her core. You wondered how it would feel to just settle in her lap, wrap your hands around her shoulders and hide your face in her neck, revelling in her presence.

The waiting after sending her those kinds of videos was the most tortuous one, you didn’t yet know if she liked the video or not, you didn’t know if it met her expectations, you didn’t know if it even made her wet and eager to pleasure herself. Sometimes you were afraid that she wouldn’t even bother to watch it or to reply to you ever again. Fifteen minutes later, you got a response – 1 attachment. Your heart somersaulted against your ribcage, and you hesitated for a moment before tapping on the notification, prolonging the excitement of not knowing what she sent you.

Those beautiful thighs. Oh, how much you thought about them wrapping around your head, how many times you rewatched the only video she sent you, remembering the patterns of stretch marks along her skin. She looked especially soft and rosy, her wet pubic hair neatly covered her sex, and the foam melted around her body, glistening on camera. The water was steamy and her hand rested on the rim of the bathtub – you could only assume that she was completely spent. 

i would eat you out until those gorgeous legs are shaking, you texted after a while of staring, unable to think straight.

Not before I would be done edging you for hours, she cheekily answered. And before you could think of a suitable response in the same dirty fashion, she sent her next message, Thank you, dearest. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

A smile spread across your features, so wide it almost started to hurt. You plumped down on the bed and nuzzled your nose into the pillow, vainly seeking her scent that was never there in the first place. Contented that the woman felt about you this way, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine her. Imagine, imagine, imagine – it was the only thing you could do. In that moment, you hopelessly wanted to press yourself into her, to cling to her body and dissolve in her warmth. How much you yearned for her to give you real proximity, to caress your sides as she would bury her face in your hair and fall asleep next to you, breathing peacefully. Or she would let you lie down on her chest and listen to her calming heartbeat, holding your hand and circling your skin with her thumb. 

A couple of red heart emojis were sent Lydia’s way and you locked your phone, turned on your back and looked at the ceiling. Fulfilled and deprived at the same time.

by the way, i was given a new project today! You texted Lydia five minutes later, remembering that you forgot to share the exciting news. i’m so happy, they finally gave me the big girl stuff to do haha

That’s amazing, dear. I’m very proud of you, Lydia answered, making you blush. 

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The next Monday you were on your way to Nevermore – it felt very exciting to leave the office for once to see the site of reconstruction. To your surprise, it wasn’t that long of a ride, you expected the school to be more distant from Jericho than it was. Driving along the road that was framed by thick forest made you want to pull over for a second to take a picture of towering trees, branches tranquilly swinging in the wind, the sun peaking through the leaves. However it would be a bad idea, unless you wanted to be late for the meeting more than you already were.

The building of Nevermore astonished you from the first glance. A dark fantasy, elaborate decorations and old-fashioned high ceilings. You arrived at the brink of evening – Principal Weems didn’t have time for the meeting until 5 p.m. – and the golden hour made the school look even more otherworldly. You didn’t need a tour since you had an insight on what the building was like inside, and the location of classrooms and halls didn’t really change over decades. Approaching the Principal’s office, you adjusted the collar of your shirt and fixed your hair – this was serious, you had to make a good impression on the client. 

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a/n: oh, larissa... honey, you've got a big storm coming

[cosmicanemoia]

The 6ft Tall; Down on All Fours.

Larissa Weems x Reader

SUMMARY

Larissa shifts into a cat to get close to you.

A/N: I got the pics above from Pinterest. She's so cuteeee. Of course it's not proofread, none of my work is. Also, forgive me if I'm ungrammatical, english is not my mother tongue. Hope this makes sense to y'all. Hahasz.

Larissa have been watching you through the window of her usual café for quite some time now. She finds you adorable and she just can't keep her eyes off of you.

She doesn't love their coffee but she sure does love watching you pet stray cats. Suddenly-- a 'brilliant' idea popped into her head.

'I should shift into a cat.' She shook her head at the thought. But, after a few days she finds herself shifting into a cat, and walking over to you, 'best decision ever made' she meowed and purred at you when you went on to pet her.

She doesn't even realise that she's doing it more often. What seems like a brilliant plan for her is just plain crazy for most people. It's like her senses are out of place. You've reduced her to a hopelessly in love shapeshifter, transforming into a cat, for all the goddesses' sake. She had lost her common sense, her body having a mind of its own. She just can't help it.

From a strong, powerful, and highly intelligent woman, to a helpless fluffy cat. A cat as white as the cloud in a clear and warm morning sky. From a 6ft tall woman, to a cat down on all fours.

While you pet the cat, you went and talk to it. "What's your name, baby?" You spoke to it, "where's your owner?" Catrissa purred to answer and it translate to 'I'm right under her palms, she just doesn't know it yet.'

The interaction became frequent. One time, you talked to the cat and told her how your day went, until it became a daily routine.

Catrissa felt at home under your palms. You pick her up to hug her and she lets you, unlike the other stay cats. You hugged her, bringing her on your chest and squeezing softly, and told her you like her most and that she's your favourite cat. Catrissa meowed and it translate to 'I love you.'

You were waiting for Catrissa, but you don't see her anywhere so you decided to go into the café.

Once inside, you bumped to a very tall, goddess of a woman, which you would later know goes by the name, Larissa Weems.

"Oh god-- sorry, Goddess. Wow!" You inhaled deeply as you speak, "You're breathtaking." And you exhaled loudly and ask "are you real?"

Larissa is red and all flushed, how can she not, when you, the woman she transform into a cat for, bombarded her with compliments. She manages to keep her cool and answers "yes, darling. I'm very much real."

"Cool, cool." You nodded as you reach your hand out for her to shake, "I'm Y/N." Larissa quickly took your hand and shake them vigorously and replied "I know." You're confused by her answer and you thought to yourself 'how'd she know me?'

You decided to just nod and ask her, "oh yeah? Where and how?" Larissa suddenly remembers how she turns into a cat, she remembers how she's always walking up to you, just so you would pet her. How you would tell her about your day. Your frustration and your rants about certain things. She felt embarrassed and slightly guilty.

Larissa heats up even more while still holding your hand so you feel her heat up and see her face turn even more red. You took your hand and she immediately misses the contact, but to her surprise, you took her wrist and pull her closer. You put your other hand up to feel her forehead "are you okay, miss?" You inquired and she gulped and responded "I'm fine, darling." You slowly took your hands back to let her go and said "okay" as you slightly step back.

You squeezed her hand softly and give her a warm welcoming smile. "I have to go." Larissa rushes to get out the door, but before she could leave, you shouted, making her halt. "Hey goddess, I didn't get your name." You said and she turns on her back, and cleared her throat to reply, "it's Larissa Weems, darling." Then she rushes to leave. And you're left there completely mesmerized by her.

While walking towards the café, Catrissa shows up again, making you stop on your tracks to pet her. You told Catrissa about Larissa Weems. You told her how you felt something shift when you first laid eyes on her. How it was rather strange, all the while familiar.

Ever since, you started seeing Larissa at the café more often. Everytime you see her at the cafe, you would make your way to her, and she to yours. You have small talks. Sometimes without your knowledge, your hands sometimes finds their home to Larissa's thigh, or her shoulder, or her wrists, or even her hands, sometimes fidgeting with her fingers as well. And everytime that you touch her, she suddenly have to rush out. It's not like you make her uncomfortable, no it's not that. Everytime you touch her, she loves it, but she would remember how she lied and keep on lying to you, and she would feel guilty.

You give her the warmest and the most welcoming smile. She could get lost in your eyes willingly. Everytime your skin meets hers, she heats up, and her heart beats faster. Pleasure and guilt are mixed up inside of her. She felt guilty for lying to you, but she just can't help it. She's irrevocably drawn to you, as you are to her without her knowledge, of course. Well, at least not yet. Until you bare your heart out to her, not her- her, the cat her.

One morning, you were playing with the cat, and your mind drifted to Larissa. "If she would let me, I would hug her like this--" you bring Catrissa to your face to hug her tightly yet softly. "And I would shower her with kisses, like this--" you showered the cat with kisses all over her face, the cat purred at your actions. You thought to yourself 'I probably shouldn't do this to a stray cat,' then you chuckled and smiled to yourself. You shook you head, unimpressed by your wimpiness. There's something about this cat that doesn't make it believable that she's a stray.

You apologises to the cat, "sorry I'm smothering you, baby." She meowed at you as you speak, and you have hoped that it translate to "No worries." Which it does, but with slight changes. Maybe it translates to "you can smother me all you want, darling." (If only I speak cat.) ;) "You're always so understanding. That's one of the reasons I like you more than the other cats on the street."

Larissa was rather frustrated about something at her work, and she needed to relax. It is midnight and she's already on her night gown, but her frustration never seem to fade, so she tossed and toss on her bed, wishing and wanting to sleep, but she just can't.

Another "brilliant" idea popped into her head. She transforms into a cat and make her way to you.

The sound of a mewling cat wakes you from your slumber. You try to find where the sound is coming from, and you found it on your window. It's Catrissa, scratching and mewling at your window. You wonder to yourself on how she got there and even know where you live, but you are sleepy as hell so you just let it slip off your mind. You let the cat in and it settles besides you on your bed. You're cuddling the cat as you went back to sleep.

The next morning. Your nose welcomed a familiar scent and inhaled it deeply and unashamedly. The cat you were spooning have turned into a person. A very tall, gorgeous, and exquisite person. You hugged the body tightly, and you felt them shift closer to you. A few seconds after, you finally come to your senses. You don't have someone to go to sleep with and cuddle like that.

You jumped out of your bed and blink two or three times. You even pinch yourself just to make sure you weren't dreaming. "Larissa?" She hummed when you called her name, as she turns to look at you. Seeing the look on your face, she look back on her body and she saw that she shifted back to her human form unknowingly.

She jumped out on the other side of the bed. "Y/N, darling." She smiles at you awkwardly. You put your hands on your face. You inhaled and exhaled sharply.

When you took your hand out of your face, you looked around trying to find the cat that you were cuddling last night. This feels like a dream, and things are so freaking unbelievable. 'How did she get here?' 'When did she get here?' 'Why is she here?' 'Where's the cat?' "What???" Your head was full of question, but that's all that came out your mouth.

"I can explain, Y/N." She said and you just nodded at her. You were still looking for the cat, "have you seen a cat?" Your eyes now met hers-- she gulped and exhaled and she trailed off, "yeah. --about that." She fidgets with her fingers.

You sat on the bed and signaled her to sit beside you, which she quickly followed. And she proceeds to explain and tell you everything. EVERYTHING.

She felt embarrassed. "You must really hate me right now." She finally gained the courage to look up at you, she was expecting to see disappointment plastered on your face, but instead, she saw you grinning widely.

You took her hand and held it tightly. "How can I ever hate you? When all you did was try and get close to me? I'm really impressed, rather amused." Your grin growing wide by the seconds. "Larissa Weems; Goddess. Shifts into a cat 'cause she likes my company and my embrace, instead of actually asking me out on an actual date." You chuckled at her softly. "Need not rub it in, darling." She said as she shook her head from side to side, she try to put her palms on her face with her free hand, to try and hide her embarrassment and save the last of her dignity. You looked at her and saw that she felt a little guilty, "oh baby, it's not an insult. I think it's way too adorable. My face is hurting from smiling, and my heart is swelling in my chest."

You pulled her into a hug, and she melts between your hands. You cupped her cheek and rests your hands at the back of her neck when her gaze fixated on you. "You are such a goddess. So cosmic, and yet so very, truly, and utterly human. It's incredible. No one can do it like you. You're so exceptional." Larissa went to hug you again and she hummed by the warmth you were giving. She frowned when you pulled away. But you quickly wiped it off her face when you pulled her into a kiss. A passionately slow, and savory kiss. When you pull away for air, you shower her face with kisses.

"Now, let's go back to sleep. I'm still sleepy as hell. You're so comfy and soft. I want to cuddle you again." You both lay in bed cuddling and you went right back to sleep. Larissa, on the other hand, lay there all flustered, extremely happy, and blissful.

Two years have passed. You were cuddling on the couch watching a movie after you have dinner. Even though Larissa is the taller one, you would always be the one spooning her. You inhaled through her neck and give it a quick peck and it gives shivers down her spine.

"Remember when you transform into a cat just so you could get close to me, instead of asking me on a date like any person would?" She chuckled at the thought, "That was rather embarrassing on my part, darling." "Oh baby," you looked at her lovingly, "that's nothing to be embarrassed of." You showered her with kiss while still embracing her tightly.

The memories of when she was a cat came flashing back, reminding her of what's currently happening, but now it's even better. Now that you're married.

"Have I ever told you that I will always love you for everything that you are?" You asked and she smiled softly, "yes, darling. All the time." And you continued, "well, did I ever tell you--" she speak at the same time as you, saying what you're saying word for word, "that I can't help it, I just simply love you." You both chuckled and you kiss her, this time on the lips.

You both grinned from ear to ear as you pull away for air. Both of your hands exploring each other's, like it never went and touch them before. You kissed again. Softly--- now harshly, and then...

[rippersz]

𝘝𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

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(A Fem!Reader x Larissa Weems oneshot) (Funny and smutty)

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Larissa blinked.

She looked up, glanced at the back of your head as you watched TV, then looked back down again and blinked.

…The jar was empty.

It was empty.

And she knew she didn’t empty the jar. And she knew that if she had, she would have immediately restocked it.

But- but if there was one person in your shared chambers that had a habit of taking and not restocking, it was you. And she had mentioned it in the past, but her little love often allowed small things to go through one ear and out the other.

Well.

Larissa sniffed, put the porcelain jar with its lid as quietly as she could on the countertop, and finally made up her mind. If her lover didn’t listen to her when she spoke plainly, she’d just have to be creative - and conjure up a different method. But it couldn’t be too obvious, of course… and it couldn’t be too subtle… and it had to get through to that brilliant brain of hers before Larissa’s own mind exploded. Not that one tiny mistake or forgotten duty would cause an argument, but when it was repeated - well to put it simply, not many things slipped past a Weems’ notice. So every time you forgot to do this that or the other, she gave you a gentle reminder. And you listened! You were good that way.

But pushing aside the fact that you didn’t restock her stash, you also went against her rules. Her very carefully constructed, not terribly enforced, lovely rules that she made up for both you and herself once you moved in. And amongst those rules were very important ones- like not leaving the dishes unwashed overnight; or making sure the bed was made every morning; or checking that the door was locked at least twice before sliding into bed. Those were all nice and well and practiced every day, but the smaller ones… the ones that Larissa found herself strangely possessive over… were rules that often slipped your mind. Like making sure your toiletries weren’t accidentally placed on her side of the sink; or that your shoes were arranged neatly and properly by the front door; or that her jar- her jar- of cookies- went untouched by your eager little hands. Usually, you did as she asked, but sometimes… oh sometimes… you really liked to rile her up.

Larissa knew it was partly due to boredom or a general lack of amusement during the day, but she also figured that you enjoyed seeing her eyes light up with fury. And that, perhaps, you liked the thought of her being rougher with you - maybe going as far as to push you onto the bed and make you cry for her mercy.

Yes, it was all a little game to your adorable sense of humor.

But to Larissa? Well, before she realized the true ambitions behind your teasing, she found it irritating. And she simply couldn’t help it - neat and tidy was her neutral mode. And you knew that. You knew that.

And yet?

Yet, there she was, staring down at her jar and seeing the tiniest bit of leftover cookie crumbs… but no cookies. None of the ones she enjoyed- with the coconut and the chocolate drizzle and the caramel and- hell, you didn’t even like those! You didn’t even like the coconut ones! You said they were too chewy and sweet and that stranger flavors- like lemon or mint or something else- were better. That’s why your jar, with the sweets that looked significantly different from the ones she had in her jar, was on the other side of the coffee maker. And that’s how she knew that you did it on purpose.

But, then again, that’s also how she knew that you had forgotten. Seeing as things had become quite busy for Larissa and her job as the principal, as well as your own duty as a teacher, indulging in the little joys of life became quite rare. And one such joy, like her cookies, was something she missed. In the past, say about two weeks earlier, Larissa used to grab one of her cookies before she left for her office in the morning and grabbed one when she returned back to your chambers in the evening. The last she remembered, before the two weeks, was that her stash was growing smaller, but that there were still some cookies left.

You decided, at some point, that those cookies were yours.

Larissa let out a quiet sigh.

Her own lover… and her own cookies… she shook her head, drummed her nails on the countertop, and decided on her method of attack.

Hmm…

Hmmmm…

…Oh…

Perfect.

A wicked grin crossed over her red lips as giddiness filled her heart. Oh she’d get you- she’d get you and she’d get you good.

A movie was playing on the television in the living room and you seemed quite enthralled, but that didn’t matter. The movie would always be there. The chance to ruin you, on the other hand, wasn’t constant. And so, putting on a mask of sultry indifference, Larissa strutted her way over to the couch and draped her long arms over the back of it, allowing her skin to brush teasingly against the tops of your shoulders. And her hands, one of your favorite parts of her body, lay limp in the air - statuesque and definitely distracting.

When she heard your breath hitch a moment later, she knew she ‘had the cat in the bag’, so to speak. But all joking aside, it was actually adorable. You were just so easy for her. So desperate for her attention and so blushy whenever she looked you in the eye for longer than a few seconds. And Larissa, who wasn’t so used to being a dominant person outside of her line of work, found herself falling into the satisfaction of your patheticness quite quickly. Yes, she found that she liked the way your knees trembled after she kissed you - and she liked the soft whimpers that filled the air of your bedroom when she allowed you to kneel between her thighs. And one of her favorite parts of the more… devious aspects of your relationship… was watching the way your consciousness faded as she kept you on her lap. Her hands caressing your waist, her eyes bright as you slowly got dumber and dumber beneath her hold - all while she murmured the most tortuous bits of praise.

‘You’re so beautiful for me darling…’

‘So precious…’

‘No no little love, sit yourself back down immediately. I like the feeling of you in my lap.’

‘There we go… see? Not so bad, sweet one.’

“Hi, baby,” the sound of your sweet murmur drew her out of the steamy lot of daydreams she found herself dipping into, and successfully allowed her to refocus.

Right. She was on a mission. The sexier parts could come later… after you learned your lesson.

“Hello, dearest~” Larissa purred, bending her neck to nuzzle along the skin of your jaw.

It was soft. Delightfully flawed and soft and smelling of her perfume because occasionally you liked to dab it behind your ears. That was something she couldn’t possibly get annoyed about - it was cute. And stroked her ego quite a bit.

“What- um- what’s up?” Your voice was frail as you let out a shuddering breath.

“Nothing’s ‘up’, darling… can’t I give you some love without prompting?” She murmured, making herself seem distracted as her lips- soft and painted red- began pressing little kisses from your jaw to your neck and cheek.

When you gently tilted your head to the side a moment later, that told her your previous focus on the television was lost. And that it was all given to her. Good. That was very very good.

“I sup- I suppose…” you breathed, trying hard to keep your composure as Larissa sparked the most sinful blush to run across your cheeks.

“Hm? You suppose?” She mocked, pushing down the deep teasing chuckle that threatened to rumble up from her throat.

All you could do was nod, swiftly falling into a mess of yourself as your lover’s breath puffed softly against your skin and her lips drew lines across your neck. Up and down - one kiss after another after another - just lingering before moving to a different spot.

“Rissa-”

“Do you want me?” Her voice dipped into a low whisper, dragging out the worst of your libido while you shivered beneath her touch and worked to ignore the ache between your thighs.

“What?” Your brain was successfully scrambled - her sneak attacks always did that.

“I said…,” suddenly a slender hand moved and wrapped its long fingers around your jaw- instantly gripping it and dragging your head up. Your eyes met the ceiling, fogging over swiftly as a wave of lust ran through your veins - filling your blood and making you whine.

“…Do. You. Want. Me?” Larissa’s accent was accompanied by the smallest growl.

And you felt yourself float further and further away from common sense.

She was just consuming you… consuming you so easily. A few touches - a few breaths and a few kisses - and suddenly you wanted her to round the couch and hold your throat and kiss you senseless and bite your lips and your neck and run her tongue along the length of your own and-

“When I speak to you, I expect an answer.”

“Yes!” You nearly shouted, “Yes, I- I want you. I promise,” you rambled, swallowing harshly and nodding against her grip.

“Yes? You want me that bad, darling~?” Larissa spoke, drawing you into her trap with each passing second.

“Mhm- mhm,” your little whimpers of agreement were nearly drowned out by the forgotten television, but Larissa could hear you loud and clear.

And that’s when the excitement from earlier- the anticipation and the giddiness- exploded in her heart and caused a sharp-toothed grin to run over her face. Perfect. Perfect. Her baby wanted her- so desperately, she was sure- and she’d be faced with a wall of iron. Her poor thing… her little darling… she glanced up from the red of her lover’s neck and saw the way her plush thighs were squeezing themselves together- all in an effort for friction that her little hands couldn’t seek just yet. Not without permission, that is. Not without Larissa’s whispered approval, saying ‘Go ahead darling, touch yourself for me’ - oh no, oh no no no not yet- not yet. And probably not for a good long while. No, you’d be held in suspense. You and your poor eager little body.

“Hmm…” she breathed, turning back toward your neck and placing one last lingering kiss along the skin - right before pulling back and taking her arms with her. Slender fingers ran over your shoulders and eventually left you entirely. You whined at the loss and turned to face her - only to be met with cold blue eyes.

“…That’s such a shame, little one,” Larissa tsked, staring down at you with something sadistic swirling around in her gaze. “…You should probably think about that the next time you eat my cookies.”

And then you watched her turn around and walk away.

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Hope you enjoyed! I have one more request to do and then I'm free for more ideas or continued oneshots/other stories. Thank you for the support! - Ripley

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[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 3: Step 3: The not-date

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-worked. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came it Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

I let them shenan once, now they've shenaned again- also this fic will sort of follow canon, but fuck it where I decide I want to. They joys of being a writer. Also so sorry this update took forever, I was depressed as fuck. Love ya 🦐

Chapter 2

Cross Posted on AO3 Here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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“So you’re telling me, the woman of your dreams, the one you’ve been in love with for months-“

“It’s-it’s just a crush let’s not-“

“The very woman you have literally not shut up about since meeting,” James continues, ignoring you, “invites you to accompany her to the harvest festival coming up and you don’t see it as a date?”

“We don’t even know if she likes women let alone me.” You argue.

“Babe you need to open those brilliant little eyes of yours. Of course she’s gay.”

“You don’t know that for sure-“

“No, but I do know no straight woman would experience your sorry ass flirting with them and invite you to the fucking harvest festival.”

You groan, dropping your head against the coffee machine. James had been arguing with you for at least half an hour on whether or not Larissa Weems had invited you on a date when she had asked you to join her at the harvest festival. Now, having only just moved to Jericho you honestly had no idea what the harvest festival even was. Did that stop you from immediately saying yes when she asked though? Absolutely not. You figured any time spent with Larissa, no matter what it was you ended up doing, was time well spent.

However, you did ask James what it was (your first mistake). Which was how you had ended up in this little argument.

“Even if she is gay, she’s so far out of my league.”

“While that may be true-“

“Ouch, thanks for the vote of confidence.” You interrupt, earning you a slap on the arm.

“She seems to want to spend time with you. So you must be doing something right. Anyway, my shift is over but we will talk more about this tomorrow.”

“Oh no, however will I survive without your constant teasing and invasive questions.” You comment.

“I know, you’ll truly suffer. Maybe I’ll ask Galpin to join in on the teasing that way-“

“Don’t involve that poor kid in your devious plans, he need not be corrupted by you.”

He leaves at that with a snort, waving as he goes. Tyler arrives a little while later, giving you a shy wave before getting behind the counter. You decide to take your break, things being a bit quiet at this time of day and let Tyler know before heading into the back.

So all in all, a very normal day so far.

So imagine your surprise when you came back in to find Tyler standing next to Wednesday surrounded by three sad looking pilgrim boys who were laying on the floor groaning in pain. Truly it was almost comical, almost.

“What in the name of fuck happened in here? I was gone for like 10 minutes!” You asked.

“Well-“ Tyler started, only to be interrupted by someone coming through the front door.

And that someone was none other than Sheriff Galpin. You really had nothing against him personally but any and all law enforcement just put you on edge.

“What happened in here?” He asked, eyeing the boys on the ground and then Wednesday.

“They were harassing a customer, she just defended herself,” Tyler replied.

“You mean to tell me this tiny girl beat up these three?”

“I’m sure this was her showing restraint,” you mumble, coming to stand behind the two teens. “Anyway now that that’s all cleared up-“

You’re interrupted by a very troubled and frustrated Larissa stepping through the door. She glances at the boys on the floor, pursing her lips before levelling Wednesday with a look that could make anyone burst into tears.

“Sheriff, apologies. This one…slipped away from me,” she apologizes, “Come on Miss Addams, time to go.” She grits.

“Addams? Is Gomez Addams your father?” The sheriff asks, eyeing Wednesday with what you can only call malice. At Wednesday’s nod, he continues.

“That man should be behind bars. I'm guessing the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'll have my eye on you.” He warns before storming out.

The four of you look at each other, Larissa’s glare burning holes into Wednesday’s head, while Tyler looks embarrassed and confused.

“Tyler, no offense really, but your dad is a prick.” You say.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“You two are all right though? None of these prissy pilgrims hurt either of you?” You ask, giving each of them a cursory check.

“Yeah Wednesday handled it, you should’ve seen her-“ Tyler starts but stops himself when he notices the intense glaring match between Larissa and Wednesday.

“Right well, Wednesday,” you start, hoping to ease the tension a bit. “I’m sorry these boys caused trouble for you. But you two probably have to get back to nevermore?”

“Yes. We do. Miss Addams, please go wait in the car. And don’t run off this time or else,” Larissa threatens, earning a huff from the girl as she exits the shop.

“It seems you’ve got an escape artist with you.” You joke.

“I do apologize. Wednesday is- she-“ she sighs rubbing her face.

“Hey it’s okay,” you start grabbing her forearm and squeezing it reassuringly. “Are you alright? Need anything?”

She shakes her head, and you must be imagining things because it almost looks like she’s blushing.

“No, I should get her back before she tries to escape again.”

“She’s probably already hatching plans. But remember I’m always here. Or just a phone call away. However, I don’t have the arm strength for digging graves so...”

She snorts at that, shaking her head and grabbing your hand, giving it a squeeze before leaving. You watch her go, smiling before turning around to see Tyler grinning at you.

“What?”

“So you and Principal Weems huh?” He snorts.

———————————————————————

You had to admit, for a small town, Jericho did know how to hold a pretty cool festival.

You were standing at the entrance to the harvest festival taking in the sight. There were stalls with games set up (no doubt rigged to hell and gone) and various carnival rides set up. You were a little impressed with how well put together the event seemed.

But the time to lose your money at carnival games and eat overpriced food was later. You had to find Larissa.

Honestly, it wasn’t hard, for one she was a walking goddess and tall as fuck so she was easy to spot. And second, the minute you saw Wednesday Addams, you found Larissa close by.

You stopped when you spotted her, standing in her greenish(the lighting wasn’t helping your color analysis) jacket with gloves on. She almost looked out of place; someone who dressed so prim and proper at a little festival with sticky food and children screaming. But she really did always look immaculate.

You decided to stop staring at her like a creep and hurried over to her. She was currently standing at one of the booths, feigning interest in the prizes but actually watching Wednesday. She was so focused on the girl that she didn’t even notice you standing next to her. You stood there for a solid minute before whispering.

“Worried she’ll pull another escape attempt?”

You had expected to scare her, yes, but what you hadn’t anticipated was Larissa letting out the most adorable shriek. She turns to face you, sporting a slight blush and clearing her throat.

“Ahem, sorry about that you uh- you startled me.” She stammers

You giggle, actually giggle, and immediately slap a hand over your mouth, slightly mortified. The two of you stand side by side, embarrassed and blushing like two teenagers. Speaking of teens, not ten seconds later a smirking Wednesday and beaming Enid appear in front of you both.

“Miss Sinclair, Miss Addams,” Larissa starts, regaining her composure, “I hope you two are enjoying yourselves.”

“Oh immensely. Bright lights and laughter are where I feel most at home.” Wednesday deadpans, earning a snort from you.

“I’m super excited. Wednesday said she’d try win me a prize!” Enid squeals.

“Oh? She did?” You ask, grinning. “That’s so nice of you Wednesday.”

You swear you see her cheeks turn pink before she huffs and walks away, mumbling to herself. Enid apologizes before running off, leaving you and Larissa alone again.

“They’re totally in love.” You comment.

“Indeed, I wonder which of them will figure it out first.” Larissa chuckles.

“I’m putting my money on Enid. She seems more in tune with her emotions.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Miss Addams, she can be quite intuitive when she wants to be.”

“I don’t know, she seems the type to avoid her feelings as long as she can.”

She snorts at that before linking her arm with yours and heading further into the festival. She started telling you about the previous years’ harvest festivals and how she often spent them. You noticed she liked to talk with her hands, well hand in this case.

She soon dragged you over to a table and told you to wait while she went to get what she called “the best by far” hamburgers from a stall nearby. You sat at the table, quickly checking your messages when Wednesday appeared in front of you carrying a rather large stuffed panda.

“Did you win that for Enid?” You asked.

“It’s for Weems. You give it to her.” You said shoving the big guy in your direction.

“Wait what? Why did you- and she’s gone.” You remarked watching her black pigtails disappear in the crowd.

A few moments later Larissa returned with the food. She sat next to you, handing you a burger before speaking.

“You must try these, I look forward to them each year.” She smiled, before noticing the panda. “Where did you get that?”

“Oh uh- well actually it’s for you?” You started, picking up the bear and holding it toward her, “you’d never guess who-“

You had squeezed the lil guy when all of a sudden a voice played from it.

“I love you!”

You froze, staring at the bear and feeling your cheeks heat up. Of all prizes Wednesday could’ve given you, she gave you the one that said that? You wanted to believe she had no idea but a part of you wondered if this wasn’t revenge for your teasing earlier.

“I-I didn’t- I had no idea it would-“ you stammered.

She chuckled, pulling the bear out of your hands and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s very sweet, thank you darling.”

You’d have to thank Wednesday later (assuming she hadn’t tried to run away again). Larissa put the bear down on the bench before sitting down next to you bumping your shoulder with hers before instructing you to start eating.

The two of you sat and ate, and goddamn she was right the burgers really were delicious. Not that you doubted her. Although the entire experience would’ve been a lot less magical had it not been for Larissa sitting next to you, so close your shoulders were touching as she happily ate her burger and spoke to you between bites.

The two of you then headed back into the festivities. You insisted on trying to win Larissa another stuffed animal (you wanted it to be from you, not from Wednesday, even if the one you ended up winning was a considerably smaller stuffed duck.)

You had to admit, it did feel like a date. You kept trying to stop yourself from thinking like that, Larissa was just being friendly and you hadn’t really had a close friend who was a woman for years so you had no idea if this was just regular friendship or she was actually flirting with you.

But you pushed all those thoughts aside and just enjoyed the time you were spending with her. Well, you were enjoying your time together before a young girl came running up to Larissa, she honestly looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Principal Weems I- I’m sorry to interrupt but Wednesday said Rowan’s been attacked and-and killed in the woods. I don’t- she said it was some kind of monster? I-“ she stammers, obviously troubled.

“Alright, deep breaths. Okay, there we go. Right. Go find Miss Thornhill and tell her to get her to gather the rest of the students and head back to Nevermore. I’ll call the sheriff and be with you shortly. It’ll be alright Miss Barclay, thank you for coming to me.” She says, ushering the girl away.

Bianca nods before turning on her heel and running off to find the teacher Larissa mentioned. Larissa turns to you, smiling apologetically.

“I’m sorry darling. This is not how I envisioned this evening ending. I need to go but promise me you’ll head straight home? If-if there is any merit to Wednesday’s story I would be beside myself if something were to happen to you.” She murmurs squeezing your hand.

You nod, assuring her you understand and you’ll head home. You urge her to be careful and you’re about to let her leave before you stop her.

“Give me your phone.” You ask, holding out your hand.

“Darling I- what?”

“I’m putting my number in your phone so you can message me when you get back to Nevermore, safe and sound.” You insist.

She looks shocked for a moment, then confused before finally settling on a rather flustered expression before handing you her phone. You hand it back to her after adding yourself as a contact(you saved yourself as ‘Favorite Barista’ which makes her chuckle.) you reiterate that she has to message you when she returns to Nevermore and give her a kiss on the cheek before ushering her away. As soon as her blushing form is out of sight you head back to your car and drive home.

It’s only after you’ve entered your small apartment that your actions register. You are absolutely mortified that you behaved the way you did and can’t help but overthink every action for the next hour or so. You’re wallowing in self-loathing and misery when your phone pings with a new message.

You quickly check who it’s from, noticing the unknown number and hastily open the message.

Hello darling, it’s Larissa. I’m back at Nevermore, safe and sound. There was no sign of Rowan, despite Wednesday’s adamance about what she saw. All this to say, everything is fine.

You sigh, relieved she and the kids are safe. You’re about to send a reply when another message comes through.

And thank you for looking out for me tonight. It’s been a while since anybody has worried for my safety. I appreciate your care.❤️

[6-and-7]

Time Ram: Dude, Where's My Yeti?

Russell T. Davies brings back another classic monster in this sequel to the beloved Peter Davison serial "The Abominable Snowmen," which sees David Tennant's Doctor reunite not only with Martha Jones, but also Michael Palin as Professor Travers! No old age makeup required, thirty years have actually passed for him.

But that's not all that the Doctor and Donna have to contend with; the creeping fungus has everyone trapped underground, and there's a traitor in their midst. Could it be the cool and collected Col. Magambo? The beautiful and brilliant Ann Travers? The cowardly and not Welsh Private Evans? The unassuming Weems Weeeeeeems? Probably not Weeeeeeeeeeeeeems, he died halfway through episode one. Alas, poor Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeems.

And on top of all that, they're stuck on the Underground with Piers Morgan. It's nearly as tough a situation as picking a fight with Douglas Camfield and his yeti-sized titanium balls! Mind the gap!

Alts under the cut

[v3nusxsky]

Hey hey Mars!! I hope you are doing well!!

I have a request for you!! I was thinking a Larissa or Tish x fem reader

(I’ll let you choose who, both is great too I just don’t know if you write poly❤️❤️)

Where reader has struggles eating..like she claims she forgets but it’s intentional and there gf (whomever you choose) starts to notice? I know this one is kind of self indulgent on my behalf so apologies, and if this makes you uncomfy your welcome to glide right over it I understand!

Thank you very much !!

Daily reminder| h&c

*Authors note~oooo I love this idea mentions Tish x Larissa x reader so I hope that's okay guys*

Trigger warnings~ poly relationship, eating disorder struggles mommy daddy baby (SFW)

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

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Your parents sent you to Nevermore in an attempt to rid themselves of you. They thought your Florakinesis was worthless and pathetic, no child of there's wouldn't have at least the psychic gift or telepath abilities. From day dot you'd never fit with them, they spent your childhood tormenting you and coming up with punishments that would secretly impact and cause pain. It had developed such an unhealthy relationship with food thanks to your parents work. So when you moved to Nevermore you found it hard to rebuild that relationship and make it healthier.

For a while you hid your issues well, but you had bigger issues to worry about, the feeling you'd been harbouring for Larissa Weems and her roommate Morticia Addams. Tish loved to tease and was overly confident in her affection, especially in public while Larissa preferred to keep things more private. But when you spent time together with both women you all slipped into a peaceful harmony. You didn't quite understand why both the women wanted to make you there's but you knew you didn't want to ever lose them. That's why, when both women approached you and suggested both of them being yours that you immediately agreed, after all why would you want to choose between two of the most perfect people in the world.

Things were good for a while, until parents weekend arrived, you'd planned to spend the weekend with Isa as Tish had a visit from her twin sister Melissa. Your parents had unexpectedly decided a visit would be a brilliant idea, a chance to torment you a bit more, their favourite punching bag not being around had left them fighting more with one an other. It was safe to say that the visit went horribly as you ran into your shared room and threw yourself into the unsuspecting blondes arms sobbing. "Oh darling" she murmured instantly, rubbing your back sensing what had happened. For the remainder of the night, Larissa showered you with love and attention and held you until you drifted off to sleep in her comforting embrace.

Since that night, you noticed some bad habits returning, especially regarding your food intake. You didnt realise that your girlfriends had also noticed you eating less in portion sizes and then you'd refuse breakfast and lunch. Your weight was dropping and your cheeks looked pale and sunken in. You most certainly were not well.

After a particularly hard day, you went to find your lovers to seek some of their comfort and love. Luckily for you Tish and Isa were cuddled up on the bed already looking comfortable. "Isa? Tish?" You whimpered cautiously waiting to be invited into the cuddle. "Come on baby, come join us my love" Larissa murmured scooting over to allow you into the middle of their bodies. "Ma chérie, may we speak with you?" Tish all but purred your favourite french pet name of hers, "mommy?" You whimpered holding her gaze. "Darling we noticed some things and we want to help our sweet girl" Larissa murmured bringing a hand to play with your hair in a soothing manner. "Daddy I'm scared" you whined snuggling into their bodies.

"Mon amour, daddy and I just wish to help you love" Tish whispered which caused you to break down sobbing. "Sweet girl, we love you so much and to see you punishing yourself like this, it just, we don't ever want to see you hurting like this. You understand that right my little lamb?" "Mm sorry daddy mommy mm so sorry I just I'm sorry" you whimpered as breathing became difficult, you never wanted to upset your girlfriends but you didn't know what else you could do with the feelings and thoughts, this was all you knew.

"Ma belle, it's okay love we aren't mad. We wanna help you" Tieh cooed as you shivered in their arms. "We have you sweet girl, you're safe with us and we are gonna make sure that you're all okay. Mommy and daddy love their baby girl" Larissa mumbled knowing you loved the dynamic you three held, it was wildly known that it brought you comfort and they were happy to oblige with that need.

That night they held you close, showering you with comfort and compliments, making a plan with you to help in the future. Food would be a struggle so they wanted to make sure you'd have at least one of them with you at meal times, to be your daily reminder of love and comfort. You knew you were incredibly lucky to call these beautiful women yours.

Word count~ 897

Tag list ~ @enchantressb @fortheloveofaproditesblessings @medeaswifey @scream-queenlover @larrisalessopet @briennethebeautysstuff @xx-state-of-mind-xx @i-write-sometimes-maybe @farahtissaiamyloves @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes

[h-doodles]

oh, so many ideas so little energy and time,,, so ummmmm authors feel free to take a spin if you find something u like <3!!!!

---

1.) inspired by Loving you is beautiful (darkfic) by @rippersz — wherein reader learns to enjoy Larissa's red flags rather than slowly wilt from the distinct skewed version of love :)

Excerpt:

You've been hurt by the world.

Pain is the only thing you remember, ever since you were young. Always remembered a yearning hunger deep inside your heart. Wishing to be loved, to be saved by someone.

But humans were monsters— it wasn't until you've found yourself on the gates of the so called Monsters' precious academy that you've found what seemed to be the shelter from the storm that is your life; found the answer to your prayers.

Found her.

Your savior, your goddess, your beloved.

You won't lie, trusting such a vision was a bit hard to bear, because to be so lucky was not in your nature. But oh, Larissa is so tender, is so sweet, is so caring, and is ever so patient— to stay by your side, equal parts loving and protecting you from harm. You feel a little silly now, asking all those questions then, about her kind; of how outcasts like her lived.

Isn't it such an irony, that it took you finding 'monsters', to find humanity?

Well. Well.

--and thats all ive got for it rn lol--

2.) ICE SKATER AU or wherein reader was a former ice skater but has since been retired, and is a part of their past they'd just occasionally brush off for stress relief. Can either be a new teacher for Nevermore or the new barista in town, who gets pestered to sign up by their former partner & still best friend (also a new hiree crushing majorly on one Coach Vlad :]) to a local skating contest. They didn't initially plan to, but after overhearing that a certain principal was interested in seeing the performances, well... local disaster gay brushes off the dust off their skates ;3

"You. Me. The lake, with your skates. NOW."

"Woah woah woah Y/N, hold on a moment. I thought we were going to the booth to cancel—" Elijah says, but I whap him with a rolled up newspaper.

"Well, that was BEFORE I learned SHE was looking forward to watching the event." I start. "And since we both know I am a small, disaster gay with 0 rizz and speaking skills, THIS is my chance to get her attention! It's brilliant! It's foolproof! She'll never see it coming!"

"Who'll never see it coming?" Coach Vlad pops up half dressed behind Eli, and I blink.

"Hold up, are you guys—"

"Yes." "N-Um." The two men look towards each other, before looking back at me. Eli mouths a yes.

"I cannot believe YOUR fucking luck!"

Bestie in Christ I WISH I had the luck, skills, AND charisma of THIS manwhore of a bestie-slash-longtime-skating-partner I have. Maybe then I COULD grab a whole fucking date with one Principal Larissa Weems. Is it too much to ask???

3.) academy time! Morticia/Larissa/Reader or where before everything went downhill, three girls had a secret worth keeping. bc i need the "and they were roommates + they're galpals <3" soooo bad

4.) 5 times they kissed + the 1 time they didnt FLUFF & then major angst >:) bc i love me a relationship establishment fic and then the worst pain imaginable to man aka Wifey death /// or if more fluff, just 5 dates and 1 wedding (BUT OFC THEY HAVE MORE DATES) :)

5.) Sleepy reader being a clingy mess and touch starved Larissa sooooo torn between having to get ready for the day vs staying in bed for 5 more minutes just to savor r's presence :')

---

...and then the NSF ones

6.) Reader is being more of a brat than usual so Larissa punishes them the next day by making them wear a remote controlled toy for the WHOLE day & getting teased at the most inopportune times but they are not allowed to cum >:)))

7.) OH GOD TRADE OFF where usual brat reader has been a V good girl™ for some time and in turn Larissa allows them one (1) wish...... and R picks revenge by having mommy wear the accursed toy and being teased 👉🏻👈🏻

8.) R making Larissa jealous soooo bad they need to be taught a lesson, marked & properly bred to appease the green eyed demon in Larissa's mind :) :) :) (and it works out bc R has been. entertaining v v filthy breeding kink thoughts oop)

9.) R has quite the closet of costumes and they find a cat maid cosplay 👉🏻👈🏻 practicing their meows and nyas and being all cute not knowing Mommy's been watching from the door the moment they started meowing

10.) oblivious reader unknowingly teasing Larissa all day and the woman is abt to FUCKING burst in horny except oh no???? reader was not oblivious and this has been part 7 of the 10 step plan to get Larissa as her gf >:))))))

[buffysgotfaith]

I’ve got to be honest I thought the plot of Wednesday was really bad

I mean I wouldn’t say really bad, but it definitely has some issues. Like I’ve said, my interest in the show isn’t me believing it’s some beautifully written masterpiece.

I found the idea of the Jekyls and Hydes very interesting, but thought the plot point of Crackstone coming back so he could use supernatural powers to destroy the school was not great payoff. It felt to me like it might have been stronger to just have them working in honour of his memory.

I thought they rushed certain things, like everyone just deciding they would back Wednesday didn’t feel entirely earned. I bought Enid and Eugene liking her because she showed affection for them in her Wednesday way.

And I felt like they didn’t exactly nail the Addams family itself so I would like them to hopefully work on that for s2. I’m also with Jenna Ortega in thinking it could be darker.

For me though, they’ve established an interesting world to build from, it was visually stunning and they had a few really nuanced characters. Wednesday, Enid, Principal Weems and Bianca were all well written and acted for the most part and have a lot of potential to be even better. Plus I really enjoyed the Wednesday/Enid development. Also who doesn’t love Thing and Eugene?

Bottom line: something doesn’t have to be brilliant to be compelling to a person.

[gayllamafromspace]

Anyone remember this- from a fucking year ago?..... I finally wrote the first gd chapter after abandoned the 4 documents, 15 notes, and ass load of research I did- I would like to thank the brilliant writing of other authors (I recently got back into reading Larissa things) for inspiring me to get my shit together lmaoo- I have high hopes to actually write this thing. I’ll be doing some editing and working on chapter 2 today- and then I’ll post the first chapter and try to work out a lenient schedule for myself. And this time around! I have a beta (just friend skimming over it for me) I’m used to writing in a more roleplay esc style (having custom bots to write under... almost like writing a script I think? Discord things all that jazz.)- since that’s how I’ve been writing for the past... year, but I do think that I've got this cat in the bag. Also- technically the fic would be a Larissa/Original Female Character, because I have created a character for this- but I’m making an effort not to describe her appearance very much, if at all. So it will be under the tags Larissa Weems/Reader, as well as Larissa Weems/Original Female Character. I don’t like writing in first or second person, so third person everybody! I’d like to also say that it’s going to have a somewhat slow start, with how crazy things get in the series so early on, I’m opening the story with a simple chapter, chapter 2 and onward will bring in all the stuff and nonsense. A bit about the fic itself though- (wow this post is long, by bad) The main character and Larissa have an established friendship at the beginning of the fic, but there aren’t romantic feelings (yet). It’s going to be fairly slow burn, and even a bit dramatic. It’s going to follow along the storyline of the first season, and eventually go beyond (unless we get season two before I finish writing all this stuff, then guess what? Imma follow season 2 as well, with creative liberties depending on what happens). There is an age gap in the relationship, however it’s not a very big one, the MC is 41, so It’s an age gap of like 8 years. (For the price of free.99, you can be a milf too!). I think that’s about all i’m willing to say on the matter? I’ll make a post to promote the fic once the first chapter is up. With that, i bid all ado and cross my fingers hoping that I can keep up with this.

I have been plotting out a fic for like... a week, since I watched the show. I'm not sure if I'm actually going to write it, but I'm really hoping that I do, it's literally all I can think about rn lmao.

[daydream-cement]

can you please write some larissa x reader where the reader has scoliosis and is super insecure about how their back looks since their shoulder blade sticks out and their rib cage is crooked and is in a good amount of pain from it. i’ve been feeling super insecure and bad about my body and i just want some comfort from her.

Beautiful Bodies

Larissa Weems x student!reader

Authors Note: I hope this can make many of my readers feel comforted in the fact that you all have beautiful bodies. I apologize if I didn’t encapsulate scoliosis in a meaningful way. I tried my best.

I used a poem by a creator named Lydia as a part of my inspiration. Here is the link to her poem. I also used inspiration from Amy Poehler’s book and a favorite poem by Amanda Lovelace.

“Good afternoon, Y/n.” Your ever-professional Principal sat next to you as you studied in the library. You were actually pretending to study, but who cares either which way. You looked up and over to her, looking away from your computer screen, even seated she was much taller than you.

“Good afternoon, Principal Weems.” You give her a light smile, unsure of why she was seated with you. Typically, Principal Weems didn’t see students for the fun of it. She wanted to talk to you about something and you didn’t think that you had committed any infractions.

“The school nurse came and talked to me about your most recent visit to see her…” Larissa gently prodded around the topic, wanting you to speak freely rather than her pry it out of you. She wanted yo to want to speak about your scoliosis and how it makes you feel rather than making you uncomfortable.

You take a deep breath and shift your body so you could speak to her, “I’m okay really. I think I was just having a hard day so I just broke down. I’m better now.”

Your response wasn’t reassuring to Principal Weems. She smiled gently and tilted her head at you, “You can talk to me, honey. It’s just us in here.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” You tried shutting down the conversation before it could truly get started, but Principal Weems persisted

“No, I don’t, but I do know what its like to not feel beautiful.” You sat there in silence, a little upset with her that she decided to bring up your deep insecurities. You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to look at her any longer.

“I hated my height growing up and my peers even made it clear that I was a little too tall. When I still dated men, most thought I was too tall. It’s hard trying to fit into the beauty box that others want us in. For a long time, I shape-shifted to not be myself. I’ve never regretted something more.” Principal Weems began sharing her experiences with you.

“When we are young, especially young women, there is a little demon of sorts that begins walking with us. He will tell us all of these horrible things that we sometimes may begin to believe about ourselves.” Principal Weems wisdom was beginning to make some sense, you listened, but you remained skeptical of her words, “Now, with good friends or an even better therapist, we begin to tame the demon, making him smaller and smaller until we can relegate him to a shelf in the back of our closet. Every so often mine comes out of hiding now to tell me my height is strange for a woman or that my stature inhibits my femininity. And I tell him, ‘I am far too busy for your funny business today.’”

Her joke made you smile, but you still weren’t feeling exactly better about yourself. Principal Weems reached out tenderly, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “As a brilliant poet once said, you don’t need to look a certain way to earn someone’s heart, no matter your shape, no matter your size, be proud of all the space your body dares to take up.”

Principal Weems scooted a little closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you the lightest of side hugs, “Our bodies are incredibly unique. I’m sorry for the pain you go through. It’s certainly not fair in the grand scheme of things, but you should know that you, my dear, are beautiful.”

[another-unoriginal-username]

i need more angsty Larissa Weems fics but i also need more bottom!Larissa fics.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG THE BRILLIANT AUTHORS. BUT ALSO THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR DOING THE LORD'S WORK

[rippersz]

Does Cannibal!Larissa have a favourite body part she likes to eat? And, given Alcina is a vampire who eats her maidens, do you think she has a favourite as well?

Brilliant questions! The answers will be under the cut for those with weak stomachs:

1. Cannibal!Larissa Weems, being a true Brit and a woman of good taste, enjoys kidneys and the liver. Like most other animals, the liver is extremely versatile and can be prepared in many ways. However, her personal preference is probably kidney pie! A classic. In terms of surface-level ‘meat’, like a lot of real cannibals, Larissa would probably enjoy the ‘back-straps’ of a human being, meaning strips of the lower back. Also legs and backside, seeing as they have both muscle and fat.

2. Alcina Dimitrescu, being a vampiric aristocrat with a refined pallet, follows the same vein (no pun intended) as Larissa Weems; most likely preferring the backside and legs of a victim. Breasts are too fatty and wrists are perfect for drinking blood, but not necessarily for consumption. However, all organs have their own special taste for her depending on which wines she pairs them with, though the bodies of men are best for lean, tougher meat, while the bodies of women are best for more tender, softer choices. She likes men a bit more cuz she’s never inclined to sleep with them ;)

I do hope that’s sufficient for you, my curious Anonymous. - Rip x

[mollylynchphotography]

Carrie Mae Weems

Not Manet’s Type, 1997

I chose Carrie Mae Weems because her kitchen table series was very intriguing to me.  I was fascinated at how she was able to transform an ordinary, uninteresting object like a kitchen table and build a story around it.  This series made me google and research her other projects which is how I found Not Manet’s Type.  I loved the idea of questioning the typical model for imaging and painting and also how she turned again an uninteresting scene into an interesting one.  The use of the mirror is just brilliant.  It completely changes the space and tells us more about the space by using a different framing tactic.

Text reads: 

STANDING ON SHAKEY GROUND I POSED MYSELF FOR CRITICAL STUDY BUT WAS NO LONGER CERTAIN OF THE QUESTIONS TO ASK

IT WAS CLEAR I WAS NOT MANET'S TYPE PICASSO - WHO HAD A WAY WITH WOMEN - ONLY USED ME & DUCHAMP NEVER EVEN CONSIDERED ME

BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE IMAGINE MY FATE HAD DE KOONING GOTTEN HOLD OF ME

I KNEW, NOT FROM MEMORY, BUT FROM HOPE, THAT THERE WERE OTHER MODELS BY WHICH TO LIVE

I TOOK A TIP FROM FRIDA WHO FROM HER BED PAINTED INCESSANTLY - BEAUTIFULLY WHILE DIEGO SCALED THE SCAFFOLDS TO THE TOP OF THE WORLD

[trascapades]

🎨🎙#ArtIsAWeapon #Kuumba - #Creativity - #Kwanzaa Check out @shanijamila's @lineagepodcast featuring brilliant #BlackArtists and #creatives. Reposted from @shanijamila 2021 Year In Review! This year on the @lineagepodcast I hosted artist to artist conversations with a selection of the very best socially engaged Black creatives in the world: Pulitzer prize winning playwright Lynn Nottage; poet, lawyer and 2021 MacArthur fellow Dwayne Betts; Apollo Theater Executive Producer and director of HBO’s Between the World and Me Kamilah Forbes; choreographer and the first Black woman director at the Metropolitan Opera Camille A. Brown; iconic poets and founders of the Black Arts Movement, Sonia Sanchez and Haki Madhubuti; artists and scholars Dr. Fahamu Pecou and Dr. Aimee Meredith Cox; writer, performer and Vice President at The Kennedy Center Marc Bamuthi Joseph; 2021 Rome Prize winner, painter Firelei Baez; photographer and sculptor Fabiola Jean-Louis; and musicians Jason Moran and Alicia Hall Moran. The full archive, which also includes the inaugural season, is freely available and publicly accessible on lineagepodcast.com. Subscribe, support, share, rate, review & stay tuned! New episodes in the new year are on their way, with extraordinary guests including author Kiese Laymon and the renowned artist Carrie Mae Weems ✨✨ #contemporaryart #blackhistory #lineagepodcast #shanijamila #BlackPodcasts #BlackBrilliance #BlackCreatives #TraScapades #podcasts #BlackArtsMovement https://www.instagram.com/p/CYJxCiAgU3I/?utm_medium=tumblr

[howardschatzphotography]

On Seeing, A Journal. #269 Above and Beyond with Carrie Mae Weems - August 21st, 2018

For my ongoing "Above and Beyond" portrait series of extraordinary people, I recently turned my lens to a woman who knows cameras well, though she came to photography by an interesting, winding route.

Before she began taking pictures professionally, she studied dance, worked as a union organizer, and spent time in factories, offices and restaurants. Then, in 1974 she picked up her first camera. At the age of 27, she enrolled at CalArts in Valencia, California, to study photography and then received an MFA from the University of California, San Diego.

Since then, Weems has received numerous prestigious awards for her work, including the Prix de Roma, the U.S. Department of State’s Medals of Arts, the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation’s Lifetime Achievement Award, the BET Honors Visual Artists award, and in 2013, a MacArthur Foundation Fellowship Genius Grant.

In 2013 and 2014, Nashville’s Frist Center for the Visual Arts organized "Carrie Mae Weems: Three Decades of Photography and Video," a 30-year retrospective of Weems’ work which traveled to New York’s Guggenheim Museum, Stanford University, the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Portland Art Museum and other institutions.

This image was influenced by her “Kitchen table Series" of photographs.

As I always do with participants in my Above and Beyond project, I conducted an interview with Weems. Here are some of the thoughts she expressed.

HS: How does the camera inform how you see the world?

CW: One of the first things I understood immediately about what cameras do is to ease you into the world in a certain way. When I was coming along, the camera was a fascinating tool that really was meant to engage the world. It has been that for me, a wonderful, visceral tool that has allowed me to explore the world and to really think about the world in a certain way. I think of it as a tool of social action.

HS: Though are you not at times surprised taking pictures?

CW: Always. I’m surprised by what photographs reveal to me about who I actually am and about what my interests actually are. For example photographs really taught me that I was interested in architecture. I would come home, process my film, make my prints and look at them and begin to realize, “Oh, Carrie, you're interested in the ways things are made, and designed and built. You’re really interested in architecture."

There’s this idea about pre-visualizing what you make, and on the other hand, there’s the surprise of what you've made, and ideas around power.

HS: Do you photograph to learn something, or to say something?

CW: Both. I'm deeply curious. I'm really nosy. I'm always out in the world looking at things because I'm trying to understand what they are and then what it means. I photograph a lot out of curiosity. When you have this camera, you follow it. You follow its lead and it takes you into unexpected places and unexpected territory all the time.

HS: Do you feel your work has impact in the world?

CW: I think it’s pretty important that people are telling me they are deeply impacted by this work. That’s pretty phenomenal. I can hope it’s being impactful but I don’t know unless you tell me. Maybe you feel the same way about your own work. At a certain point, the work is simply bigger than you are. My work is bigger than me. “Kitchen Table” is bigger than me. “Kitchen Table” moved through me. I was just like the conduit for something that was higher and larger.

Whether I'm sharing it with African-American women or white American women or Italian women, or Spanish women, or Japanese women, women around the world relate to that piece.

HS: Something visited you at the time?

CW: Yes, it’s just sort of an opening and a channel that only happens rarely in your life. It’s like love. You only get it for a minute with somebody really, really special.

HS: Have you gone through periods when creativity is dulled, or does it remain at a high? Are there peaks and valleys for you?

CW: Of course it changes over time, like all things. Your life is based on a spiral of actions and reactions, and balances and imbalances and then balances again, and then loss and then a rebounding, a regathering, refocusing and re-framing of the possible.

HS: Do you have favorite subjects for portraiture?

CW: I love painting and painters. I was asked to photograph Robert Colescott, a painter, for the Venice Biennale and I made these very particular photographs with him. Working with him opened me up to my relationship to painting, and figuring out another kind of work.

What was my relationship to Black painters? What was my idea about the image of the Black female in relationship to a historical painting and then painters of the 20th century? Though, I realized I loved Monet’s work and the work of Picasso and Duchamp and those brilliant men. But they never ever really made anything that resembled anybody that looked like me. I have this great love affair with these amazing, amazing artists and painters, but they’ve never represented the likes of me.

It was clear I was not Monet’s type, and Picasso, who had a way with women, only used me, and Duchamp never even considered me. But it could have been worse… imagine my fate had de Kooning gotten hold of me.

HS: A few years ago at Stanford, when you were being honored for your work, you said that you were broke and that jolted me. I thought about a successful artist, an artist who’s won a MacArthur Award and has a long list of every kind of award in the world, whose work is known internationally and has been written about positively by every great critic. It was interesting that you would, in front of an audience, reveal that.

CW: I’ve looked at how a woman’s work is valued in the open market, and the difference between the highest paid woman and the lowest paid man of a certain rank. It’s in the millions.

Georgia O'Keeffe said, all the guys like to think of me as the best female painter, but actually I'm the best painter. But the distance between what is paid for her work now, and that of, let’s say, Francis Bacon is 60 or 70 million dollars.

I think that in using this idea of being broke had to do with the ways in which work has been historically valued. I also understand it politically and socially and morally and culturally. What does it mean when we so undervalue the production of women artists?

HS: Does your success get in the way of expressing yourself personally?

CW: I don’t see myself as being successful. I don’t really know exactly what that means. There’s a certain way of course in which I'm comfortable...so why is it that I always assume I don’t really have any money, that I can’t really spend anything, that I always buy things at discount department stores? I think I was brought up that way and so that’s the way I live my life and I don’t really splurge very much. I’ll do a lavish dinner party for a friend, but I would never do it for myself.

HS: You’ve said, "The ever present threat of violence takes its toll."

CW: This is a huge problem of course. I've done many projects around it. I've lived around this so I'm highly aware of violence, in particular what it means for African-Americans. But what it means for us as a culture and as a society is also important because it’s crippling; the violence against men and women, against gays, against anyone who is different.

That violence takes a serious toll on the psyche and well-being of people. Those young children in Parkland, those concert goers in Vegas, those children at Sandy Hook… this is not just a problem for African-Americans, this is a problem of our society.

So that when you become afraid to walk down the street, when children are afraid to go to school, this is a nightmare, right? And the stress that it puts on the body, the stress that it puts on the mind, this is awful. And scary. The children are becoming more and more fearful of one another. They’re fearful of going to school, of being in social environments. What happens is that you spend more time doing anything that keeps you out of the larger social sphere, and that’s a problem.

I think that I'm really looking at it more broadly. Yes, I care about what happens to African-Americans, and I've done pieces around this like Grace Notes, the performance project that I've been working on that’s been touring around the country and opened at the Kennedy Center not long ago. It looks at the policing of the Black male body as a subject of investigation. That’s been very important to me.

HS: I have heard you say that you “had to fight so hard for every single thing."

CW: I'm a Black woman and so this carries with it a certain kind of weight and a certain kind of meaning.  Women typically are disregarded. Women artists are typically disregarded. Historically, they’ve been disregarded so we’ve always had to work harder for our recognition, for a seat at the table. It’s just a part of the social dynamic in which we are engaged and involved in the society in which we live.

It’s predicated on the idea that women are powerless. How you deal with that factor, of course, is the thing that really matters. Being a Black woman, you understand what the limits are. You understand how you’re being looked at, how you’re being gauged or judged or dealt with or not dealt with.

Those are issues that I’ve always had to contend with and I’ve really sort of contended with them usually with the understanding that I'm probably the smartest person in the room. I'm usually the most interesting person in the room, and I'm certainly the hardest working person in the room. I’m usually the most imaginative person in the room.  

I realized that for the most part, no matter what, there were no men that were supporting me. They might look at me and smile at me, take me to a nice dinner. They might even think about fucking me, but are they going to give me that job? Are they going to really give me that show? And the answer is no, they will not. They might give me a couple thousand of dollars…but they’re not going to give me the serious dough, the action, the space, the real space to create.

CW: It’s a huge problem for society because for the most part, these extraordinary people who hold up more than half the sky are not being recognized for the extraordinary contribution that they make to the building and the beauty of the world in which we live. And so society then suffers. Children suffer. Women suffer. Men suffer.