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bacchicly · 10 months ago

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A few imperfect thoughts about writing fat characters respectfully

By me :

A short (5'2"), fat (approx 300 pounds), middle aged (turning 42 thank god), married to not a fat man, mother of a pre-teen, white, CIS, Anglo, Canadian, upper-middle class woman who writes fic (including smut) about a character who is fat by TV and Hollywood standards (Penelope Garcia)

Note: fat hate or debates about whether being fat is healthy or not will not be tolerated on this post. That is not what this post is about. This is about giving some insight into what writers may want to consider when trying to respectfully include more fat characters in their work and generally moving towards writing doing less harm to fat people.

This post started with me wanting to respond to someone honnestly asking "how do I write good descriptions of fat people" because they wanted to write more fat characters and write them authentically (and I assume in a way that would be respectful to fat people) which is an awesome! ...Or maybe it started a few months ago when a writer friend asked about whether a fat character in a fic borrowing a shirt or hoody from her fit boyfriend made sense. ...Or maybe it started way back when I started writing my first fan fic featuring Penelope Garcia partly in response to being irritated about how so many writers wrote her as a young woman and were often silent on her size or spent a lot of time on her insecurities about her body... anyhoo that's where I come from... doesn't make me an expert except maybe on my own unique experience with a fat body...rather more a fellow muddler / fat character writer enthusiast.

THE BASICS

This first part is a quick list of basics you'll read in other posts about writing characters in general - but we'd better get them out of the way because they apply:

Every character is unique and they way they act and think and feel tends to be a product of some mix of what they look like, how their body works or doesn't, how their brain works and doesn't, their "personality", what they were taught, their unique experiences, and the situation/society they are currently in. There are patterns (which is why we get tropes) but the fun thing is that small things can make big differences. So to write an authentic character, it helps to have a fairly clear sense of at least some of those elements and do some imagining about how all of that would funnel into the moment your writing.

The amount to which you describe character bodies and the style which you use to describe them tends to depend on genre, what the heck is going on in your story, the pov you're writing from, the reason you're writing etc. So their are no hard or fast rules. There may be norms for certain styles of fiction, but then it's up to you to decide if it's stronger for you to lean into those norms or to write "against" them at a particular moment.

In order to be more respectful and less harmful to fat people (especially if you see value in actively challenging the anti-fat status quo), you may have to change how you describe all bodies in your work, as well the attitudes both fat people and non fat people have about bodies in general.

Now that that's out of the way... let's get specifically to my thoughts on writing fat characters. I'm going to divide this part into tips for DESCRIBING FAT BODIES, FAT BODIES IN SPACE, and THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

TIPS FOR DESCRIBING FAT (OR OTHER) BODIES

I would say that both consistency and diversity across the work is important, by this I mean :

Consistently describe bodies in about the same amount of detail across your work for the same type of character regardless of body type. So protagonists should get about the same depth and breath of body descriptions as each other regardless of body type. Same goes for vilalns, supporting characters etc. Sometimes people are mute about the look and shape of "strait sized" character bodies (because what's to describe - they are just "normal") but then spend a bunch of time on "other sized" bodies or vice versa (in this case, the fat body is erased usually because of some form of internalised fat hate or phobia paired with "if you can't say anything nice" don't say anything at all.) If you're doing either of these things, I'm not saying it's wrong and has to be fixed- I'm just saying it's a flag that you may want to think about why you are writing differently about different body types and what your work is saying about what bodies have value and which don't.

Diversity Bodies in the real world come in a lot of different shapes and sizes (I know I know obvious woman strikes again) but if you are writing stories with fairly large casts and everyone has the same body type - there better be a good reason for it within the narrative. Truthfully there are cases where this does make sense to some degree... if you're writing about a group where there are physical requirements and standards for the folks in that world (ballet dancers, fire fighters, cops, soldiers, fbi agents) there may or may not be less diversity in body type and more homogeneous attitudes to body norms within the group - and certainly those who are outside of the norm may be commented on or feel like they are "other". But if you are in a more free setting - if you write without a diversity of body types - especially in settings where there is diversity - that is probably a clue that you're not thinking enough about what your various characters look like and may be "normalizing" one type of body over others. Similarly, if you are writing about a real time and place where there is evidence that there were fat bodies and you have none...that's another flag to ask yourself why.

The magical tools in your toolkit for describing fat and other bodies: Body neutrality and POV

Body neutrality is about not loving bodies and not hating bodies just accepting bodies as they are....or in this case describing them as they are. No poetic language. No judgement. Just this is what this character looks like. If you're struggling to do this, I suggest doing a body map for at least two characters with different body types - possibly one that you find easy to think of positively (in this case likely someone thin or at least fit) and one that you find more difficult to describe positively (in this case someone fat).

Describe them head to toe, naked and then clothed, in detail - acurately but not poetically. Start with their feet and then work up bit by bit. Pay attention to things like hair, scars, shape of joints, acne, tightness or looseness of skin, colour of skin, nails, fat, lack of fat, muscle tone, where do they hold their stress, what's in the bowels, how well they do or don't work, do they have their appendix, what they ate last, proportions (is their torso long or short compared to their legs), lungs - how much do they hold, are they healthy? - now describe their throat, shoulders, hands, hair, then end with face.

The only rule is no positive or negative connotations to anything. it's neither good nor bad that they have stretch marks - they just do and they have faded to silver. Now that you "see them' clearly - now look at them through the eyes of someone who loves them in a familial way...what do they see most? what words do they use? now through someone who is attracted to them sexually and love them and aren't ashamed...what do they see most? what words do they use? Now through the eyes of someone who hates them or wants to change them? or a child? or a dog? Now... how does your character feel about these descriptions? Now you have a variety of words you can draw on to describe the body and you also should have a fairly good idea of what is a more skewed view of the body and a more realistic view.

Also...it can be helpful to remember there are no consistently good or bad words to describe bodies - it depends on context and who is using the words. It's a lot like how sick can be used to describe something negatively or positively depending on the agreed upon meaning of the word by a group.

DESCRIBING BODIES IN SPACE/MOTION

Ok here's the thing - for every activity you can think of - there is a fat body that does it well and a fat body that can't do it easily or at all and there are a lot of reasons for both. Often it has to do with the fact that a lot of equipment is built for people who are 250lbs or less; and anything for bigger people tends to cost a premium. Also, if it's not an easy new skill to acquire with the body you've got...it may take longer and more bravery to keep pushing through to achieve mastery. People may try to discourage you from pursuing things. Sometimes out of prejudice, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of caring.

So deciding what your character's body can do easily and what it can't and why is more important than me giving you a list of words for how to describe fat movements.

My suggestion is: do your research. What sorts of body types have done the activity in the real world? What are the exceptions? What changes? So for example if a fat person is climbing a mountain - do they need more help? Different equipment? A different route?

Things to consider:

- equipment / things that can have weight limits: bunk beds, roller coasters, scooters, waterslides, camping chairs, elevators, trampolines, some bikes, life jackets (finding one that fit was a nightmare), exercise balls, airline seats (learning to ask for the seatbelt extender without second thought or shame was a lifesaver)

- not all fat people have pain, those who do will move taking into account the specifics of the pain - same as a lean person

- when I was pregnant I just got more cylindrical and did not get a classic belly. I moved well and easily all the way through my pregnancy, I had none of the back pain or ankle pain some people get. I stood for a lot of my labour. I gave birth on my hands and knees. Other fat people will have had different experiences of pregnancy...but that was mine.

- clothing can have a huge impact on what bounces or jiggles and what doesn't

- most (but not all) fat people I know are particularly sensitive to appearing sweaty or smelling bad

- how winded someone gets is not directly correlated to body size, neither is heart rate or breathing style; I have theatre training and grew up swimming - I breath very slowly and very deeply normally - so when I talk a slow deep breath...it is very slow and deep indeed. I have always been fat but can swim forever - I have always gotten winded and kind of dizzy running... Other fat people may be opposite.

- people do not "see fat" consistently. People regularly underestimate how fat I am (by 100+ pounds or many clothing sizes) because I am short, well spoken, proportioned in a way that is seen as fairly typical, and very mobile and very light on my feet. Someone who weighs less than me but is slower moving, dull witted, in a sour mood, is illl, or poorly dressed may be perceived as much heavier than than someone the same weight or heavier who is behaving/clothed differently (which can change how much fat hate someone experiences) and definately heavier than they are. Height also changes how people perceive weight.

- many stores still don't carry plus sized clothing, but eventually i sort of got used to it - although some days it makes me angry and other days sad

- chairs with arms or the occasional booth can be uncomfortable or just plain impossible to sit in, it's probably partly my ADHD but I often forget this until it happens; for taller and fatter people than me this can be a much more regular occurrence.

- once (if) a character figures out how to dress/move their body in a way that feels comfortable and meets general standards (or at least theirs) of respectability - they may not think that much about their body...or at least until something external draws attention to it

- I don't like feeling like I'm squishing people, so I will make myself small and still on buses or at the theatre, I also don't like sitting on laps or being lifted or carried.

- I often feel much taller than I actually am - except when I am standing right beside someone taller or am trying to reach something on a high shelf. The same principle applies - I feel larger next to smaller people and smaller next to larger ones.

- clothing and what I'm carrying also changes how I move (just like my lean counterparts)

- I don't lounge, my car seat is set almost straight but I sit further back than my brother in law who has a similar height and weight - he leans the seat back but pulls closer. I don't nap. My leaner husband both lounges and naps.

- some fat folks eat, walk, and move quickly - some slowly; figuring out which your character does, when they behave "out of character", and why these are their preferences will go a long way to creating an authentic feeling fat character

- acne is a thing and learning to accept ones rolls and tummy aprons (and thus take care of them properly) is a common challenge; although many do it naturally without thinking much of it. You lift your breasts and wash underneath - you lift you belly and wash underneath.

- fat bodies have the same reactions as everyone else: they tingle, burn, get numb, get goose bumps, like to be touched in certain places and in certain ways, feel the breeze, get hot, get cold, shiver, stretch, relax, get aroused, feel release, hold tension, feel capable and strong, feel weak...no matter who you are sitting in a chair that's too small for you will put pressure on your body and feel uncomfortable or safe ..you can explore what that is like. Sometimes it is a reassuring sensation. Sometimes it is uncomfortable. This is the same for fat bodies. It just may happen more frequently and depending on your character's context and experience the emotional reaction / thoughts that are generated may be a bit different.

THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

I think I touched on some of this in some of the earlier sections...but here I want to talk a bit about my experience of being fat and my thoughts about it - your fat characters may or may not feel similarly...but my hope is that you at least think about options as opposed to only writing one or two types of fat character.

I mainly "feel" fat in moments when it is pointed out to me or I am limited in what I can do because of it

I quite like my body, it is my home and I feel very connected to it's features. In my experience this is unusual for many people in North American society regardless of actual body shape or weight. Sometimes I feel guilty for not hating my body the way "I am supposed to" and wonder vaguely if my body would be different if I could hate it more (although as I get older I doubt it).

I do feel some pressure to be a cheerful "good" fat person as a way to stay safe and survive.

Nothing makes people more uncomfortable than me calling myself fat without judgement or asking for accomodation matter of factly. It took me a long time to feel comfortable doing so, but I do it now all the time and it makes my life better.

I felt some pressure to be the fun friend who people feel comfortable eating whatever they wanted with and I often felt like I was depended on to order dessert so they could too. This may have been all in my mind though.

Fat bellies can be very intimate places.

Not all fat people have dieted, but many have. I was lucky enough to never be forced into a diet. I did try keto once but it was a bit intense and nuts so I stopped. I learned a bunch doing it though.

Medical people not treating you appropriately when your fat is 100% a thing.

Internalised fat hate and fat phobia is a thing for many fat people and it pops up at weird moments.

I don 't.give a damn about being in a bathing suit. As long as it fits and my boobs and butt.aren't.falling out - I am happy and feel very attractive. In fact I am probably at my most comfortable in a bathing suit or naked. My body is mine in both those instances.

To reach the "healthy weight" for my height - I would have to lose half of my body mass. That is a lot of me to loose. Embarking on something like that would be totally different than loosing 5 or 10 pounds. Trying to navigate the various medical opinions about whether being fat is bad or not is exhausting.

For me, being fat and older is easier than being fat and younger. This could easily be the opposite for someone else.

Some fat people are into sex, some are not . Some folks are into sex with fat people and some are not. Some are nice about it. Some are not. Some want nice. Some do not.

Fat people are all around you living their best life or their worst life or somewhere in between. We know we are fat. We sometimes care and sometimes don't.

Ok that's it. I don't know if it will help anyone or if it's just a collection of rambles - but at the end of the day...fat people are just people. We are not going to go away. We are all sorts. We are the heroes of our own stories. We are people who are loved, depended on, hated, ignored, and/or spotlighted.

Some fat people think about being fat all the time. Some rarely. Just please don't erase us or other us.

Just by taking the step to interrogate your own biases and any feelings / assumptions you have about fatness/thinness is a huge step and will help limit the harm you could unintentionally do to fat people...actually to all people. Like all forms of hate and intelorance - Fat hate hurts EVERYONE. I would argue it privileges a few...but even that can be excruciating for the individuals who strive to retain that priviledge. We need to dismantle it.

#writing #writing fat characters #fat phobia #fat hate #long post #personal #body neutrality #body posititivity #writing about bodies

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maxarchive · 4 days ago

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Listen to the full interview here.

Now, just as the championship was starting to get to a really tense point around Austin, there was this big controversy about driving ethics between you and Lando. The drivers had a big conversation with the FIA after that race about the guidelines and it felt in some ways that it was a consequence of what had happened in Austin. How did you feel about that? Did you ever feel like they were singling you out?

You know, honestly, I don't, even if they would have done or did, I, first of all, I don't care because I drive to what I think is possible and what is allowed in the rules. And if the rules are written like that, I will use the rules. I'm just not the type of person that I think, if that would have happened to me the other way around, you know. There is then other people commenting on, other drivers commenting on that were not involved in that whatever incident or whatever you call it. I don't think I would have been the person then to complain so hard because I would just think to myself that, okay, if that's the rules, that's how we do it instead of screaming that we need to change the rules. Because the problem is, if you make less rules and then something happens, then they will start screaming for more rules. Now we have the rules, maybe not perfect, but it will never be perfect. Because if we get to a certain rule set, there will be another incident where someone is not happy about and then they start screaming that the rules are not correct again. It's the same in football. If there's a foul and there are some clear rules about certain things, it's not always that the right decision is made on it, or is it a penalty given or not? Or was it offside or not? That's why you can never, at the end of the day, do it right. Do I think that consistency in the penalties can be better? Yes, for sure. But that only comes with, I think, stewards that are paid, you know, professional stewards. Not that I think that the stewards that we have right now, you know, they're doing their very best to what they have, you know, but I do think that, you know, in a sport like this, like you see in other sports as well, that when you have a paid board of stewards, I think it just works way better.

You said something very interesting there about the rules that you were always driving to the rules. And that's the fundamental point. I think no one said in Austin or thought that you'd done anything against the rules. But there was this particular kind of defense, you know, the kind of race to the apex, trying to be ahead and all the rest of it that people are talking about now. Do you think that just taking a step back from that particular incident, do you feel that that's the right way to go racing? Would you choose to do it that way if those weren't the rules? How would you like to do it?

Like I grew up with go-karting, where it's not about who is ahead of the apex or not. I think every driver is anyway a little bit different. I remember from go-karting as well with some, you just knew that if you went around the outside, you could hang it around the outside. And with some others, you couldn't because they would push you off. And I think you need a little bit more freedom on that. Because when... When it's that clear rule that you need to be ahead or alongside fully to the apex, you will create other issues with that, right?

So would you naturally want to give someone room on the outside on the exit if you were racing?

Well, me personally, I don't race like that.

You don't... What, sorry, what do you mean?

Well, it's like when I... So when I race with someone, I would... Well, he will not be able to overtake me around the outside.

Okay. Why?

Because that's how I grew up racing.

Okay. So you always think it's okay to go to the edge of the track and force someone off?

Yes, but I've raced against other people in go-karting that would give me space. You know, it's like, it's just a driver-related thing, that some drivers are just a bit more passive, you know, in racing. And that's just how they are. And some I know that even in F1 I can't hang it around the outside because they will push me off. It's just, it's like a bit more of like a racing, I would say, instinct.

So I think if you were to play the devil's advocate, how would someone ever overtake you? Because you will always go to the inside to defend.

It depends on the track layout. I think the main problem is that when you have so much tarmac on the outside, you, even if you lock up a little bit, you just run a little bit wide. But on old-school tracks, you normally never really have these kind of issues because it just doesn't happen because people are a little bit more tentative on the brakes. Also, the guy that is trying to overtake knows that if he makes a mistake and locks up, he's in the gravel and his race is done. You know, so that's what I think is the problem is the track layout is letting us do these kind of, like, you then have questions with some moves. Where if you go to, like, Suzuka or even Red Bull Ring in turn four, the downhill right-hander, where sometimes, you know, it's very rare that there is any, like, question mark move that has been done there because if you make a mistake and you brake too late, you go off in the gravel and you're penalized anyway. And I think we have to try and go back to these kind of things that when a driver goes off the track, there's a harsher penalty with just natural, like, track limits.

So you would never give someone in the outside room on the exit of the corner if you were racing?

Well, that's just normally the case, yeah.

Yeah, okay, cool.

And, of course, when the track is naturally the limit with the gravel being there, then no one even want to go around the outside because they know that. So you then try to go for a cutback or, you know, set yourself up in a different way.

#max verstappen #f1

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mlyscha · 21 days ago

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THUMB FIGHT ✦ N.RIKI

𝓼ynopsis. riki doesn't want to do the dishes, neither you do. time for a thumb fight! 𝓹airing. n.riki x female!reader 𝓰enre. fluff, crack, puppy love. 𝔀arnings. curse words, reader calls her mother-in-law “mum”, not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 943. 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: guys! thank you so much for the 100+ notes on my first post (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) i'm so happy hihi

riki and you began dating for a few months now, and his family house started to feel like a second home for you. with that, you spend lot of time just hanging out there, cuddling with your boyfriend and gossiping with his sisters. back in school, that was when everything begun: you guys friendship and then love era. everything felt so special, but, one of the most special things is the thumb fight rule; which consists in starting a thumb fight whenever there is an different opinion when choosing something or when both of you don't want to do something but has to: like now.

"i am not doing the dishes, nishimura," you spoke up, looking at the sink full of dishes while he stood by your side, analysing the current situation as well.

he rubbed his bottom lip with his index finger before replying: "you know," clearing his throat, he turned to look at you with his arms crossed. "i am kind of tired and you're in my house, so..."

"are you telling me that just because i am here i have to do the dishes?" you scoffed. "mama!" you called riki's mother, teasing him. "ma, riki is-"

"shut up!" his hands covered your mouth and you, trying to break free from his tight hold, touched your tongue against his hand. "ugh, freak!" your laugh echoed through the kitchen walls, travelling to the living room.

"RIKI! stop bothering my sister!" konon called her brother while sat on the sofa.

"ha! idiot!" you mocked him.

"shut up you little- little... ugh," he rolled his eyes, already pulling his jumper's sleeves up. "i'll just do the dishes, babe." your boyfriend shrugged, annoyed but unbothered.

"wait," you sighed. "let's just do a thumb fight..." you spoke with a frustrated voice, not wanting too, but feeling bad for making him do the dishes by himself.

"yeeesss!" riki cheered.

"nevermind," you began to walk away from the kitchen.

"nooooo, babe, come back!" he took your hand and pulled you, making you land on his chest. "oh... hi there, little one," you felt a kiss being placed on your forehead.

"riki-"

"huh?! who's that?" he pushed you away from his chest, like you just cursed at him. in a comic way, he placed the palm of his hand behind his ear, like he was having a hard time hearing you.

"niki..."

"um, i can't hear you,"

"nini," you snorted, getting impatient.

"mhm? wha'd you say?"

"UGH! forget it! i'll do it!"

"no! wait, wait, nini? perfect! is perfect, okay? i can live without being called baby by my own girlfriend..." he sniffed. "anyway, where we were at?"

"thumb fight,"

"yeah, thumb fight, okay," interlacing both of your hands, riki's thumb was already taking over.

"hey, you little fucker, i didn't say start!" you complained, frowning with a pout.

"okay, okay, say start already, otherwise i'll kiss that pout out of your lips." he sent you a playful flying kiss, and you turned your head like you were avoiding it from landing on you.

"alright, are you ready to get your fingers wrinkled?" you squinted your eyes, teasing him.

"i'll probably not be the one ending up with a wet shirt," he shrugged.

"we'll see," you smirked. "three, two one, fight!"

"LET'S GOOO!" riki screamed with enthusiasm.

"that was unfair, your thumb is much bigger than mine!"

"cry about it!" the japanese boy began to mimick a baby crying, even making that exaggerated pouty lips.

"what the fuck are you guys doing?" a feminine voice took away the playful atmosphere.

"um..." riki began to blush, embarrassed from being caught while doing such a stupid thing. meanwhile, you were holding your laugh so hard that you felt like exploding. "nothing."

"mhm..." konon shook it off, walking in the room.

"nonnie, why are you... there?" your head dropped to the side when you realised your sister-in-law was about to take over the dishes.

"huh? i'm gonna put the dishes in the dish washer," she shrugged and riki's loud groan was heard.

"KONON!"

"whaaat?" she turned to look at her brother.

"since when we have... that!" he pointed to the dishwasher.

"since we moved,"

"wait, haven't we moved here like... ten years ago?"

"yeah," she nodded, confirming to her own self. "like ten years ago." konon shrugged, focusing on the dishes again.

"but, konon!"

"what now, riki?" she sighed, turning to look at her brother once again.

"oh, nothing is just that-"

" 'that' what?"

"she" he points at you. "was supposed to do the dishes."

"okay, and?" her face suddenly turned into an angry one. "don't tell me you didn't know we had the dishwasher and you want her to do the dishes? you're mean, nishimura." konon shook her head.

"your mum won't be happy when she discovers this," you mimicked your sister-in-law's action, shaking your head as well, already planning how to make mum pissed off and riki under trouble.

"bet,"

"yeah? bet? mamaaaa!"

"SHUT UP!"

𝓫onus 𝓼cene! ★

"i'll tell mum what you did earlier," you told your boyfriend while laying on his chest. "and don't you dare to bet me again!" you made him aware.

"never again..." he replied, having flashbacks from when you hit him ― playfully, of course.

"wait, you're really gonna let me get in trouble? your handsome and caring boyfriend? who you love and-"

"who said i love you?"

"now you're the one being mean,"

"payback, baby." riki pouted.

"give me a kiss at least, damn..." he slowly began to approximate his face from yours.

"bet! gimme your thumb and we'll see if i'll rather kiss you or not."

"you're so mean!~"

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago

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drow rpg thoughts

Yesterday I got excited and did a design outline for another game, this time about drow. Don't worry, the Eureka Patreon updates will keep coming monthly and we are even close to another free public beta release, but i have been under a lot of stress and might need to work on something else for a few weeks after that, even if only because i think it could actually be something i could make fully playable within a short time.

It is based on a particular setting written a while back by me and a close friend, the purpose of which was to reimagine drow with reasonable post-hoc explanations for the way they are portrayed in Forgotten Realms. It would be a very specific game, sharing a few design ideas with Eureka's rules, but not as broad and generalized.

This rpg will certainly come with a bunch of lore, but for right now the only thing you need to know is that in this setting, "Drow" is a title and referrs only to the female warrior-caste of dark elf society.

Many of the mechanics will be asymmetrical. A “party” will consist of one Drow and any number of her servants, with the goal of surviving incredibly dense hierarchical social situations

>problem will come up that could embarrass the Drow, threatening her Reputation (stat)

>Drow has to delegate tasks to servants that will fix the problem

>due to stupidly dense and impossible etiquette, actually delegating these tasks is not very clear or easy. Screwing up tasks and failing etiquette will reduce a servant’s perceived Competence (stat)

>due to high pressure, impossible working conditions, and garbled instructions, these tasks are not easy and are very likely to be screwed up

>the Drow has to contend with and smooth over the screwed up tasks. She can lose Reputation if she doesn’t discipline incompetence, but harsh discipline is only going to make the servants less able to complete the task.

>Failure state for the servants is if their Competence ever reaches 0, and failure state for everyone is if the Drow’s Reputation ever reaches 0.

Half the Game Master’s job will be keeping track of the strict and deliberately impossibly overcomplicated etiquette by which servants have to address Drow, and docking their Competence when they screw up(and possibly docking Drow Reputation if anybody else sees her letting that slide), and keeping track of the strict militaristic code of honor and (evil) morality that all Drow are expected to exemplify whether they actually enjoy being cruel psychopaths or not, and docking Reputation when the Drow fails to uphold the right standard of evilness in front of other Drow.

The servant part of the “party” will either have to humorously manipulate Drow while hiding that anything is wrong, or they and their Drow will all have to all work together to maintain a facade of this brutal hierarchy

Drow lose Reputation and servants lose Competence when they fail to adhere to social etiquette that covers like 15 pages of instructions (designed to be impossible to follow). In that way, it might be considered similar to Paranoia, with a similar sense of humor.

Some of the servants’ etiquette would be like

>don’t speak out loud to a Drow unless told to by that Drow

>at the same time, don’t remain silent when a Drow expects them to answer a question even if she didn’t explicitly say they could speak

And this is why the Drow has to be a PC, because this same servant etiquette is a pitfall for the Drow. if she doesn’t make her expectations explicitly clear, it puts the servants in an impossible situation, where they will embarrass her with their incompetence(even though it’s her fault) and she will be socially obligated to go out of her way to discipline them. Of course in the in-setting society, the fault lies with the servant, because they should have intuited when they were being given permission to speak or not. Some Drow will be self-aware enough to realize that they caused this situation, most won't.

The structure of their society will often incentivize a tactful Drow to "roll with" mistakes made by servants, e.g. "No, my servants did have permission to address me out loud, you just weren't clever enough to catch it."

Each will have to cover for the other, and/or hide things from each other and the Drow's social rivals.

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 10 months ago

Text

Confesser

Summary: Spencer is a criminology professor, and Reader is a French professor. Separate focuses managed to get tangled together once, which makes Reader even more suspicious when he stops by her office on Valentine’s Day.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light flangst

Content warnings: Slap

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: a little last-minute Valentine scenario

The bulb in your desk lamp flickered, as if it was begging for you to call it a night. You've been working late nights at the office recently, not only to help your students before midterms but also to keep your mind at bay from the lingering anguish.

There’s nothing wrong with being alone on Valentine’s Day. It’s been the case for you for years now. Solitude has been your most consistent and prosperous state. It’s how you earned your place as tenure after just five years at Marbury University (Go Cardinals). A job for life. Many people aren’t lucky to have that like you are. So you can’t stop now and get comfortable. Your students love you, and over the years have advocated this position for you. Stopping now would be nothing but a disservice to them.

If only you hadn’t been so stupid your fourth year here (and the first half of your fifth), then the feelings you get when in Jefferson Hall might be less painful. You were stupid enough to believe that the number one workplace rule didn’t apply to you.

Don’t fuck your coworkers.

Perhaps you thought your achievements from back to back earned you a place of immunity in that pool. Well, Dr. Spencer Reid was happy to prove you wrong there. Things like that can always risk being casual, unrequited, awkward. And you were stupid enough to go back more than once, and sully the place and position you rightfully earned.

Spencer first noticed you speaking to some of your students outside the hall. When approaching, he spoke in French, assuming you were a foreign exchange student. But when you turned to face him, he saw your staff badge, and put the pieces together quickly. It’s not too far off of an assumption, as most people think you’re French when they see how easily the language and history flows from you. You applauded his French (both pronunciation and accent) regardless.

That meeting turned into a coffee date. Coffee turned to grabbing lunch, then grading papers together, moral support to keep one another going. That quickly trickled into a friendship as you learned about Spencer’s specialties, multiple degrees, and current employment at the BAU in Quantico. You’ve both been to France for pleasure and to study. One was coincidentally in the same year as each other, where you both visited the city of Orléans. The rich architecture and vast history as far back as the Merovingian era made you both agree you prefer it over Paris any day.

Those days were during your fourth year. And it was just over a year of friendship where you made the mistake of agreeing to a drink after work.

The bulb flickers, as if to mock those memories or distract you from going too deep. Does it really matter? Spencer made it clear it was a mistake. None of it was meant to happen — the kiss, the confession, the sex. And with your shared brilliance mixed with two vodka sodas, you both unraveled what used to be a genuine friendship, a trusting relationship among coworkers. You cut your desk lamp off with a click, muttering to yourself as you collect your bag and some books. It’s a good enough sign to call it a night and head home. At the very least, you could spoil yourself with a nice bath and some wine. You question if you should grab a bottle on the way home or use what you’ve got stashed.

Your keys rattle in the door as you lock up your office, and you jerk on the doorknob for the sake of double checking. Spencer told you most break-ins occur because people fail to check the locks in their homes or cars before leaving. You don’t know how many of your students or fellow professors in the Language Department would be eager to bust into your office, unless they need some spicy ancient French poetry or books on Rococo architecture. No issues of the sort have arisen yet.

That is until you spot him at the end of the hall, drenched in fluorescent lighting and paused as if you caught him in the act. Of what, you didn’t know. It’s not like Spencer was short on French books or books in French. You hesitated to speak, questioning if it was even worth speaking a word to him. Regardless of the fact that you have to go his direction to get to your car.

Of course you caved. “Spencer.” You tried to not make your gulp so audible.

He just stood there awkwardly, like this wasn’t as much his fault as it was yours. Like you were in his way.

You scoff. Seeing him there, just feet away, it’s a cruel feeling blooming in your chest. The idea that maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe he’s here to confess what he really feels. On Valentine’s Day, no less. A bit of a cliché, but you’re not in a position to be too picky about how you might make up. If that’s even what’s happening.

With reluctance, you walk toward him. “I’m heading home for the night,” you say. “Are you parked out front too?” It pains to ask as if this is all casual. It feels like your heart’s about to burst or crush because he’s not saying a word as you approach him. Not until you actually approach him.

“Hi,” he meekly says. He looks pale. He looks sick with worry. If you were more concerned, you would feel inclined to ask about it.

You try to avoid sighing too loudly. You need the air. Since the bar (and everything after that), you two haven't been this close. “Do you want to walk out to the parking lot?”

Spencer shakes his head. “I, uh, I got you something.” He digs around in his satchel and pulls out a frame delicately. Like it was an old piece of art. Spencer hands it to you.

It’s not an old piece of art. It’s an old piece of poetry. Two of them in a single frame.

“They’re not the originals. But I have a friend in Germany who knows a guy in France who could exchange some pretty old copies.”

You stared at the pieces. Gawked is likely the more accurate word. They were definitely old copies. It was all handwritten and translated to Middle English.

You looked up at Spencer. “Charles d’Orléans?”

Spencer nodded, lips pressed together in a boyish, nervous smile.

You were so stunned by the decoration of the parchment, the distinct age of the pieces (well before the revolution), you almost forgot to ask, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Had some spares around the apartment. Figured you’d appreciate them more than me.” He chuckled.

You turned your head and narrowed your eyes.

And you saw Spencer’s audible gulp. Much more audible than yours earlier (yes!). “Read it.”

You scan over the parchment, translating in your head:

Let men and women on Love’s party

Choose their St. Valentine this year!

I remain alone, comfort stole from me

On the hard bed of painful thought.

As he is well this day has caught

A Valentine that loves him, as I guess,

Whereas this comfort me here alone

Upon my bed so hard of painful thought.

You looked back up at Spencer, hoping this time he’ll put some more context behind the words instead of leaving you to fill in the blanks (again). You waited.

“I’m sorry about what I said. Or I guess… the way I said it. Maybe both. Both is probably the safer option to go with. The point is that I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

You didn’t know what to do with the poems. It is instinct to keep them close to your chest like a book, but (like with you and Spencer) you’re afraid of ruining them. Somehow cracking it or damaging them. Firmly held in your hands, you are hyper-aware of its value. You also try not to let your emotions take a grip for the sake of your pieces. “You said it was a mistake.”

“It was a mistake that we went that far in one night. That’s… not who I am.”

You quirked a brow.

“That’s not who I usually am. I went too far in every way, and I’m sorry.”

You clamped your lips closed, looking around like students were present, ready to eavesdrop and gossip later. If your favorites were here, they would beg you to dish it all out over lunch. But no one was here. It was just you and Spencer (and Charles, kind of). “But what if my feelings were genuine?”

“I-I assumed they were. And I hurt them, and I’m sorry. I understand if I blew it and you may want to forget those feelings now, which is completely understandable. I destroyed it all in one night. And I can’t hold your hands right now, but I want to, and just say that you’re very important to me. And I miss you being around. And, uh, whatever context that might be, I hope we can be around each other again. A-at some point in the future.”

You sighed. It was heavy but concentrated. You needed a fresh breath of air. Spencer had the look of a sad puppy. It’s the way he looked whenever he was worried. How could you kick a sad puppy when he’s already down?

Well, you didn’t. You slapped him.

And he instantly reached for his cheek, already burning red.

“That’s for hurting me.”

Spencer nodded, not objecting to that part.

You then took that same cheek and pulled him closer, locking his lips with yours. And you both inhale deeply upon recognizing the contact. You’re hesitant about getting closer, given Charles is between you. “That’s me forgiving you.”

Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he held your face, but he didn’t initiate a kiss. The nerves in his fingers show he was hesitant to touch you so suddenly. He wasn’t messing this up again. “Can I walk you to your car?”

This time, it’s you who doesn’t hesitate. You hold the frame in one arm, cradling it like a baby. And you reach for Spencer’s hand as you walk out of Jefferson Hall.

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agathaandbrienneslesbian · 1 year ago

Text

In Your Words

Larissa Weems x Fem!Journalist!Reader

Hiya! I've finally finished this bad boy <3 I'm uploading this lengthy fic cause I'll be having a shit ton of Uni Exams the next few weeks and won't be able to write.

Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some other friends for proofreading this fic <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warning: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors Note: Y/N is a newsreporter and wants to write a story about Nevermore and outcasts. What happens if a normie Journalist and an outcast Headmistress work together? (I suck at descriptions, have fun xD)

Words: 9'200+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

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You sat in your little office at the news station of Jericho, finger hovering over the mouse of your computer. You were hesitating. The cursor sat neatly atop the ‘send’ button, ready to send your email to its recipient. But you hesitated. Why? You didn’t know.

It’s true that it was frowned upon to interact with the outcasts, but you just couldn’t believe that they were as terrible as everyone said they were. You have seen them plenty of times strolling through the little city, shopping and stopping by the Weathervane for a drink. None of them ever seemed malicious or evil to you. With a deep inhale, you pressed send and quickly shut your computer off. There's no going back now.

—

The next day at the office, you were surprised to find that the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems, has replied. With a nervous breath, you opened the email:

Dear Miss Y/l/n,

I am pleasantly surprised about learning of your interest in outcasts, my students and the school in general. There are, however, a few things I would like to clarify first.

Now, if I understood correctly, you wish to catch a glimpse into the life of an outcast to then create a report about our differences and similarities with non-outcasts?

Because of the nature of this request, I have to let you know that I will not tolerate any sort of mockery or bad-mouthing of my students or my school.

You will have to follow our rules, outcast or not.

I won’t allow you to follow one of my students around, as this would pose a serious safety hazard for my students and yourself.

However, you are very welcome to settle yourself into my office and follow me around for however many days you deem necessary.

If this is alright with you, I would be willing to meet you coming Monday at the Weathervane and take you to the Academy.

Sincerely,

Larissa Weems

You released the breath you were holding and smiled to yourself. You replied to Miss Weems, agreeing to her terms and wishing her a wonderful weekend.

The following two hours consisted of preparing everything you needed for your report: a few notepads and notebooks, your laptop, a tablet, your camera and some pens. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of having the opportunity to report about the outcasts. This was not a subject anyone had ever really done research on, and you were adamant to figure out why everyone seemed so fearful of a bunch of teenagers in a school in the woods.

Over the weekend, you exchanged a few more emails with the Principal, clearing up any last logistical problems you’ve had.

You asked if you were allowed to stay for a week, to which she replied that it would be no problem if you agreed to stay in one of the empty studios that were meant for teachers at Nevermore.

Of course, you agreed.

Monday rolled around, and you were standing in front of the Weathervane, waiting for the Principal of Nevermore to pick you up. You have heard descriptions of her, and you knew she frequented the little Café a lot, yet you have never seen her in person before. Absentmindedly, you sipped on your hot chocolate, typing something on your phone, when suddenly:

“Miss Y/l/n I presume?” A soft voice with a wonderful British accent sounded from beside you. You turned your head to be met with a beige coat. Having to look up you finally made eye contact with the woman whose beautiful voice ripped you out of your thoughts.

You smiled up at her, nervousness flooding your chest as you took in the beauty of the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” you said quietly, nerves completely taking over your logical mind and body. You reached your hand out to shake hers. She took her beige glove off, and took your hand in hers. Her hand was soft, warm and wrapped perfectly around yours. Perfectly manicured red nails decorated her pale skin.

“Likewise!” She smiled down at you and removed her hand, putting her glove on again, and you immediately missed the feeling of her hand on yours.

“Are you ready for us to leave, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Oh… yes, of course!” You grabbed your bag with your equipment and personal items and followed her to her car. You set your luggage in the boot and sat in the passenger seat. Larissa sat in the driver's seat and started driving towards the Academy. After some silence, you spoke up again.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Academy for a week.” Larissa smiled to herself and quickly glanced over at you before eyeing the road again.

“I should thank you. My students usually don’t get this sort of… exposure to the outside world. We are used to people avoiding us because of… fear or discrimination… whatever you want to call it.” Her tone shifted to a quieter and more serious one, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter. You sensed a shift in energy and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I believe everyone deserves a chance to be understood and seen.” You replied, and that seemed to relax the headmistress. She shot you a thankful smile, then focused back on the road, the rest of the ride being spent in comfortable silence.

—

Once at Nevermore, Larissa showed you around the grounds, having one of the teachers carry your possessions to the on-campus studio flat, which will be your new home for the following week.

Roaming the halls, it didn’t seem much different than a school for regular humans (besides it being incredibly fancy, of course) and you found that the students seemed like sweet kids. Truly, you couldn’t understand how there was so much hatred and fear surrounding these kids.

Larissa led you to her office, offering you a separate desk to work on. You set your laptop bag on the desk and turned to look at the headmistress, who was standing next to her desk.

“Now, Miss Y/l/n, you are free to follow me around the Academy whenever you want, but I trust you understand why I wouldn’t want you roaming the halls on your own.” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course, Miss Weems!” you reassured her quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to protect these kids… but I can assure you there are no ill intentions by me being here! After what I’ve seen thus far, I cannot believe why anyone would be fearful of outcasts. This is why I’m here. I don’t believe that these kids are as dangerous as everyone in Jericho, let alone the rest of the world, believes them to be.” You looked at her, and there was a slight shift of emotion on her face. Hope? Distrust? Surprise? You didn't know. After a few seconds of silence, the headmistress spoke up again.

“Very well,” she said, grinning at you with her million-dollar-winning smile. “If you ever feel like you would like to see more of the school or learn about its history, don’t be afraid to ask.” Her smile softened slightly. She seemed very fond of her students and her Academy. It truly warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but blush slightly. With a slight nod, you thanked her and sat down, getting your things ready to start your research.

Every now and then throughout the morning, you caught yourself glancing over at the tall woman. She sat in perfect posture, working on her laptop and typing away on some emails or documents. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring at her. The way her eyes flicked over the screen and the way she swiftly moved her fingers over the keyboard had you in a trance-like state. Her perfectly painted red lip curled up on the side, and she raised one of her eyebrows.

“Has no one taught you that staring is rude?” Her eyes flicked over to yours, and you quickly averted your eyes back on your own screen, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ her way. Your face felt hot, and you knew you were blushing, hard. Larissa chuckled and shook her head a bit in amusement. She stopped her typing and leaned back against the seat, turning to look at you, studying you as if she were… considering you. Shyly, you moved your gaze back to her.

“Would you like to have a look at one of the classes? Our subjects can vary drastically from the ones in your schools.” she smiled at you and tilted her head slightly.

“I-I would appreciate that, yes.” You answered, nodding, and quickly moved to grab your notepad and pen. When you looked back up, Larissa was already standing and walking towards the door of her office, only stopping to wait for you to catch up.

This morning, the headmistress took you to several classes, telling you about all the different subjects they have. You eagerly took notes, asking questions and listening intently to subjects you’d never heard of. Magic, transformation, siren song, etc. You were fascinated, and that didn’t get lost on Larissa. The longer she watched you, the more fond she grew of you. Your interest and amazement made her heart swell with pride for her school and her students. Even though she was rather careful of what to show you, she felt that this might be the biggest step ever made for outcasts to be accepted into everyday normie lives.

—

The day went by way faster than you would have wished for it. You have learned so much and were eager to learn even more. Larissa had taken her time explaining their school system to you and while you saw drastic differences, it still didn’t feel too out of the norm. There was one particular student that caught your eye. A rebel, you thought, someone who likes to prank and go against the rules. Those exist in every school, of course, but this girl seemed different. She did it with such nonchalance and elegance that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye.

After asking the headmistress, she told you about the student. Not much, just enough to answer your questions. Larissa seemed tense so you decided to change the subject, asking her about her own time at the school, and from then on the two of you got completely lost in conversation. Hours passed, and you shared your school experiences and collectively decided that they weren't all too different. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the couch and watched Larissa refill yours and her wine glass.

“I have to be honest, even after just one day I have seen enough to tell you that this,” you waved your hand around, “is definitely nothing to be afraid or weary of. I mean… I always knew that the other… “normies”... are being way too sensitive when it comes to this place and its students but seeing it for myself… I simply can’t understand why there's so much hate and fear towards these poor students.” You sighed and took a sip of wine. “I mean… they're just kids aren't they?” You glanced up at the headmistress to see her smiling at you softly, humming in agreement.

“I have to be honest, Miss Y/l/n-”

“Y/n! You can call me Y/n if you want to,” you interrupted her with a smile, looking back into your glass as you felt your face blush.

“Y/n… I am surprised and… relieved.” She smiled sweetly at you then looked into the fireplace, a sad expression crossing her face. “I wish more people could see the kids for who they are instead of for what they are.” A sigh left her lips and she took a sip of wine. “It’s not easy being… different… an outcast. You can try all you want, there will always be a hint of fear and doubt in non-outcasts.” She turned to look at you, her icy blues piercing yours. “Are you afraid, Y/n?” she asked, quietly, almost inaudible, but you caught the slight shiver in her voice. It broke your heart to see her like this. You didn’t really know that woman except for what she was willing to tell you, but you knew, without a doubt, that she was the most precious being on the entire planet, and you would move planets just to see her at peace. Without really thinking about it, you set your glass down and moved to hold one of her hands.

“Miss Weems… Larissa… if I may?” you started, gently, and she nodded at you, “I do not claim to know what you and your students have to go through, day by day. Being villainized, misunderstood and what not. But what I do know is that I want to help you make a difference. The kids are nothing but kids… Powers and mutations aside… No matter how different you may seem from me, you are still a person. You don’t deserve to be treated like they treat you… all of you.” You smiled at her with a caring expression on your face and gently squeezed her hand. Larissa looked at you, eyes trained on your face, searching for lies, but she couldn't find any. She inhaled shakily and took a big sip of her wine then squeezed your hands back.

“Thank you,” was all she replied. You didn’t need more. You knew she meant it. You felt it. With a last gentle squeeze, you let go of her hand, grabbing your glass again.

“To my… to our project!” you smirked and raised your glass to her. She chuckled and shook her head slightly, looking back at you endearingly and raised her glass as well.

“To our project.”

—

As the week went on, Larissa and you started to develop a little routine. You would meet her in the morning to go to the Weathervane and get some breakfast to-go, spend the morning in her office or with a teacher of her choice (mostly Marilyn Thornhill), have lunch with her and the teachers, writing and researching in Larissas office, a dinner with staff and at the end of the day, a glass (or sometimes a bottle) of her favourite wine on the couch in front of the fireplace. Being around Larissa was incredibly easy. You loved talking to her, listening to her, discussing topics other than schools and outcasts. You felt safe, comfortable… you felt at home. And you weren’t the only one who felt this way. Larissa would catch herself, more than she’d like to admit, looking at you, watching you with adoration as you wrote and researched. She liked you. It wasn't a secret. She loved being around you and was looking forward to the evenings at the fireplace. A refreshing difference she desperately needed. Larissa had grown very fond of you, and she hoped you felt the same.

When Friday evening rolled around you were already sitting on the couch in Larissa’s office, waiting for her to come back with the wine as it suddenly hit you. It was already Friday… you’ll be leaving again on Monday. You’ll have to go back to your office and finish the report. Would you be able to see her again? Could you stay in contact? Larissa entered, placing the bottle and glasses on the table then saw the light crease between your brows as you stared into the flames of the fireplace, obviously deep in thought.

“Y/n?” she asked softly, and laid her hand on your shoulder, and you snapped your head towards her, not having heard her appear next to you. “Are you alright dear?”

“Yeah!..yeah.” You smiled up at her, watching her sit down next to you and opening the wine bottle. “I’ve just realised that it’s already Friday… The week really went by in a flash, huh?” You took the wineglass she held out to you and looked at it, swishing the red liquid around absent-mindedly. Larissa’s heart constricted seeing you like this.

“It did! But… as upsetting as it is, I am glad to see that you enjoyed your week here!” She took a sip of her wine and watched you closely. “That being said, seeing how my students seemed to like you being around,” and I, she thought, “you are more than welcome to return whenever you feel like it.” She watched you closely, seeing your eyes light up made her feel warm and content.

“I would love that Larissa. Thank you! And you are always welcome at the news station. I’ll make sure the others behave, don't worry.” you giggled and winked at her which pulled a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head amusedly. “I mean it!” You smiled as you snuggled into the couch and took a sip of wine, humming as the liquid hit your tongue, “If any of your students ever wants to know more about journalism or is interested in it, let me know. Matter of fact…” you sat up and straightened your back, holding your hand out to the blonde, “give me your phone I’ll give you my number so you can just let me know in case there is something.”

Larissa hesitated. She looked at your hand for a second, then smiled shyly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and handing it to you to type in your number. She watched fondly as you typed your number in her phone. A slight tingle spread from her chest over her body as she took her phone back after you’ve saved your number.

“Thank you!” she said quietly, “I- really do appreciate it… everything you do. For us. Me and the students.” A soft pink colour kissed her cheeks and she gave you a truly heartfelt smile. You smiled back at her, butterflies spreading through your whole body. Her smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You knew right there, she had you wrapped around her finger. You have fallen.

—

You were able to finish your report on the last day of your stay in Nevermore, handing it in to be reviewed by your boss so it could be printed and released asap. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back into the chair, stretching your arms and back. Larissa smiled over at you and set her paperwork aside.

“I take it you’ve just handed in your story to be reviewed?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her eyes held a hint of sadness at the realisation that her office would be empty once again. You smiled over at her and nodded gently.

“Yes! Just handed it in! If everything goes well, you’ll be able to read it on Tuesday! And Larissa… thank you again… for everything!”

The blonde stood up, walking over to your side, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“I should thank you. This… means way more to us than you could ever imagine!” Her smile was warm, eyes soft. You felt a shudder rush down your spine as you realised that you haven’t seen her this soft with anyone but you. All of this vulnerable affection was only directed towards you, only to be seen by your eyes.

You wanted to tell her… tell her that you like her. Tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on. Just as you were about to open your mouth, she pulled away.

“If you want to, I can drive you back. I could drop you off at the Weathervane or.. At your place, if you prefer?” Larissa spoke, closing her laptop and putting her paperwork into a drawer. The headmistress didn’t want you to go, but she knew that if she would let you stay longer, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. Certainly you wouldn’t feel the same… right?

“That.. that would be nice! Thank you!” you replied, feeling defeated. Maybe it was better to keep your feelings to yourself. Who knows, maybe she wasn’t interested in women.. Or simply normies. You took a deep breath, collecting your things and going to your room to pack the last few things. When you returned to the headmistress’ office, she was already waiting for you.

The drive back to Jericho was rather quiet. Neither of you knew what to say to the other. You wanted to tell her everything, pour your heart out to her and so did she, but you stayed quiet. Once you arrived at your Flat Complex, Larissa turned to you.

“It was really nice having you at Nevermore. Again, thank you for doing this for us. And… If you should ever want to come and visit, you are more than welcome to do so! I am sure the Students would love to see you again sometime.” and herself… but she didn't say that. You gave her a genuine smile, nodding slightly.

“I enjoyed my week there! You truly have wonderful students. And, I mean, you have my number so… if you or any of the kids should ever need something, just feel free to contact me!” You hoped she would contact you, but only time could tell.

—

It has been a month since you’ve last heard from Larissa. Your article got approved, and she complimented you on it, thanking you again profusely. That was the last, and only, time you’ve heard of her after staying at Nevermore. Sure, she was a busy woman, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. And you wouldn’t text her first, no. The anxiety that arose in you every time you tried to do so was enough to completely freeze you. So when you walked into the Weathervane on a Thursday morning to grab a coffee, you were more than delighted to see her there, quickly walking up to her.

“Good morning, Principal Weems” you said softly, watching her turn around and seeing her eyes light up as she saw you.

“Good morning Y/N!” she replied with a smile. That darn beautiful smile of hers. “Are you also here to grab some breakfast before work?” she asked, turning fully to you, all herattention focused on you, your face, those eyes she came to admire over the time you’ve spent at her school.

“I am but.. Uhm… if you’re not in a hurry, would you like to have breakfast with me?” you did it, you asked her. The second the question left your lips, you felt your cheeks heat up. Larissa looked at you with adoration and nodded.

“I would love to, actually!” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. She noticed your blush and couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Was she the reason you blushed?

“Wonderful! What do you want? It’s my treat!” You smile, feeling a bit more confident now, seeing her soft and happy gaze directed only at you.

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“But I want to!”

Larissa sighed, shaking her head slightly with a grin, and chuckled at how adamant you were.

“Fine. Next time, it’s my treat!” She gave you her order and went to sit at a booth, waiting for you to join her. You couldn’t believe your ears. Next time? There will be a next time? The smile that spread on your lips could only be described as the smile of a happy fool. Truly, you were a fool. A fool for her.

After you’ve ordered and paid for your coffees and pastries, you made your way over to her, slipping into the booth.

“So… how have you been? How have the kids been?” you asked, trying to make small talk. You felt so awkward, but that feeling quickly washed away as you saw Larissa’s soft smile.

“Very well! Your report had quite the impact on how people from Jericho treat my students. I just wanted to thank you again. The effect this has had on our lives is way greater than I could have hoped for. The article… your words… truly left an impact.” She reached her hand out, grabbing yours and squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you!”

Your smile grew tenfold, and you squeezed her hand back.

“I am so happy to hear that this has worked out so well for you and your students.” You shyly pulled your hand back and thanked the waiter when he placed your drinks and pastries in front of you.

“How have you been y/n?” Larissa asked. She was looking at you… into you… into your soul with those beautiful ice-y blue eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and grabbed your cup as well, trying to ground yourself.

“I’ve been well! The Article has caught a lot of attention, so I’ve been rather busy lately…” You smiled at her and took a sip as she watched.

“Though I do have to say, I miss being around the kids…” and around you, you thought to yourself. The blonde eyed you over her coffee mug and smiled sweetly.

“In that case, would you like to come to the Rave’N this weekend?” She did it… she asked you. Her heart was beating like crazy but seeing the light blush covering your face she couldn't help but feel proud of herself.

“The Rave’N? Really?” You asked, not believing your ears. Larissa nodded and tilted her head.

“Yes really! Our theme this year is ‘Climate crisis meets extinction effect’ and the dress code is white.” She took a bite of her pastry and smiled at you. You thought for a second. You didn’t have any white outfits, so you’d definitely have to buy one, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t agree to her invitation.

“In that case, I’d love to!” The smile you gave her made Larissa’s heart melt. How were you so precious? She nodded slightly.

“I’ll have Marilyn pick you up here at around 5:30pm on Saturday. The students will be excited to see you again!” She finished her coffee and snack and stood up.

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back to Nevermore… I’ll see you this Saturday, dear.” and with that, she left your flustered self in the Weathervane.

—

Shopping for an appropriate but also impressive garment was not easy. You currently had 2 dresses in front of you and couldn’t decide which one to pick. One was made of silk and rather simple but had an extravagant high slit up your right thigh and a very low back, whereas the other covered more of your back and arms but was a bit shorter with a princess gown puff skirt. You sighed and decided to put them on again, took a picture of you wearing them and sent them to Marilyn. You and her had gotten rather close during the week you spent at Nevermore, and you’d kept contact even afterwards. She was such a sweetheart, but she was also a pain in the ass as she has been nagging you about your outfit all afternoon already.

It didn’t take long for you to be flooded with messages of Marilyn going crazy over the silk dress.

Marilyn:

“Oh, you SO have to get the silky one! Larissa won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you”

Y/N:

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

Marilyn:

“Oh come ooooon… It is SOOOOOOO obvious that you have the hots for her… just pick the silk one.”

You were sure Marilyn would laugh at you if she could see you right now. Your face was bright red because you’d been found out. Was it really that obvious? Did Larissa know? Was that why she invited you? Could she... no. No, that probably wasn’t the case... Just wishful thinking. With a sigh you looked back on your phone.

Y/N:

“Fine. I’ll get the silk one. But just because you picked it 😛”

You got dressed again and went to buy the garment.

Once back at home, you took your time to look for hair and makeup inspiration to complete your look and be ready for Saturday. Marilyn and you had been texting back and forth all day, and she’d helped you pick the perfect hairstyle and makeup for the Rave’N.

You were nervous… of course you were, but there was this little glimmer of hope starting to take hold within you. Maybe Larissa really did like you.

—

You were waiting in front of the Weathervane for Marilyn to come and pick you up.

Were you nervous? Absolutely!

Were you excited? Definitely!

But you couldn’t help and worry… worry about… you were actually not sure. Your nerves were getting the better of you and there was nothing that could be done against it. Not that you haven’t tried… you definitely did! You went through every trick in the book.

Breathing exercise? No effect.

Meditation? Nothing.

A tea? That just made you worried that you would spill it on your dress, so that wasn’t helping at all.

So you just stood there… waiting.

“Hey! You good?” you suddenly heard someone call out to you and released a sigh.

“Marilyn! Hey!” You smiled at your friend and got into the car, leaning over to give her a hug.

“Not really… my nerves are taking over right now.” You groaned.

“You’re just making yourself crazy over nothing! Relax! You’ll be fine!” she smirked and turned her gaze back onto the road, starting towards Nevermore.

“You look amazing by the way!”

You chuckled and looked out of the window. You did look nice… it also took you forever to get ready. You had braided some hair along the sides of your head and pulled everything up into a fluffy space bun, which you decorated with some crystal pins. Your makeup was soft, in nude colours, with a soft peach lip and some sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids. The dress fit perfectly and hugged every curve of your body, and you had found the perfect off-white heels in your closet.

“Thank you! Wouldn’t have managed to pull this off without you!” You smile and look over at the redhead. Marilyn was grinning to herself.

“If you two hook up, I deserve to be invited to dinner by you!” Your shocked gasp caused her to laugh out loud.

“Oh come on! I know you want her… and to be quite honest…” She raised an eyebrow and glanced over at you with a mischievous smirk. “I think the feelings are mutual.”

The blush that spread on your face was all Marilyn needed to know she was right.

“You’ll see! She’ll be absolutely smitten with you looking like this.”

“We’ll see…” you reply, watching the scenery outside.

Marilyn parked the car and ran around to open the door for you with a dramatic bow.

“M’lady.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes amusedly as you got out of the car.

“You’re an idiot!”

The teacher smirked and moved to hold her arm out for you to hold. She led you into the building and guided you towards the great hall.

You weren’t expecting to be swarmed by students the second you entered the ballroom.

“Hi Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“You look gorgeous! Who invited you?”

“It’s so nice you’re back! Come! Let's go dance!”

“Do you want something to drink? I’ll get you some punch!”

You were being surrounded and swarmed by the students, and it warmed your heart to see how excited they were by your presence. Marilyn slipped away from you without you noticing, the second she realised someone was walking up to the newly formed commotion around your presence. You struggled answering all of their questions when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder and the students grew quiet.

“Now, now… dear y/n has just arrived, don’t crowd her like that. You’ll have enough time to have a chat with her tonight.” The smooth British voice echoed from behind you and a pleasant shudder ran down your spine. The students nodded and went back to their friends on the dance floor. You turned around to look up at the principal.

Larissa couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over your figure. The dress you chose was absolutely exquisite, your makeup complimenting the simplicity of the outfit and your hair that just looked too soft. Vulgar thoughts flooding her mind as she finally caught your eyes. You were looking up at her with big doe eyes, so innocent and sweet.

“Come in! Want something to drink?” she asked as she gently took your arm and led you into the ballroom. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Larissa looked… She was a goddess. Her hair was up like always but decorated with some intricate curls, her usual red lipstick a wonderful contrast to the silver dress she was wearing. Looking up at her, you saw her eyes scanning you, your heart skipping a beat. Her pupils dilated as she finally landed on your eyes, and you had to suppress a whimper. This woman will be the death of you. It took you a few seconds to register her question and notice her arm intertwined with yours.

“I- yes… please!” you answered quietly, not being able to suppress the grin gracing your lips.

Larissa handed you a glass of punch and took one herself. You stood at the edge of the dance floor with her, watching the kids having fun.

You really wanted to dance with her, but didn’t know how to ask. Should you ask? What if she said no? What if she thought you were weird, and she only wanted to invite you for the kids’ sake? But… What if she said yes? What then? You didn’t know how to dance. Sure, you have visited your fair share of parties, but you didn’t think you were a good dancer. And what if you started dancing, and you didn’t do it right, and she would start laughing and-

“What's going on in that head of yours, darling?” Larissa’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at her just to catch her already looking at you. Her eyes were soft, a hint of concern shimmering in them. She looked so… soft. You just wanted to pull her into an embrace, a kiss, soft and full of affection. Taking a breath in, you set your glass on a table then held your hand out to her.

“Would you like to dance, Larissa?” you asked, heart hammering in your chest as you saw her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. A sweet pink hue coloured her cheeks as she blinked at you a few times, registering what you just asked her. Larissa quickly placed her glass on the table next to yours and moved to put her hand into yours, looking up at you with a shy smile, nodding.

“I would love to!” she said quietly, almost above a whisper. The bright smile that appeared on her face was enough to get her heart racing and head spinning. Your eyes were practically sparkling with glee, and it made her feel so fuzzy and warm inside. To have such happiness and excitement directed towards her was a privilege she’s never experienced before. You giddily pulled her onto the dance floor, not believing your luck.

Marilyn was watching from the corner, watching as you pulled Larissa onto the dance floor. She smirked at the two of you, but something felt weird… the music!

A mischievous smirk graced her features as she waddled off to the DJ and asked him to play a slow and romantic song. The second the music changed, you and Larissa shot a look over at the DJ, seeing Marilyn standing there, innocently waving at the two of you. Oh, you were so going to get revenge on her for that. Your anxiety started kicking in again, but before you could start overthinking it you felt warm hands on your waist. Larissa was pulling you closer, and she just hoped you wouldn’t pull away.

“Is this okay?” Her piercing blue orbs held steady eye contact with you, and you felt your face heat up. With a nod, you move to place your arms on her shoulders, hands close to her neck. She smiled and started swaying with you to the rhythm of the song. Seeing you so shy and flustered by her gave her the necessary courage to take a step closer. She leaned her head down to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear. Have you picked this outfit just for me?” Her hot breath on your skin caused you to bite your lip. You nodded.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” You replied quietly. Larissa tightened her grip on you, squeezing your waist gently, which caused a gasp to leave your lips.

“Dressing up nicely just for me?” She husked, feeling herself getting more confident. Emboldened by the way your body… you reacted to her.

“You’re such a good girl!” You could hear the smirk in her voice. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s a shame this dress will be laying somewhere scattered in my quarters after this ball is over.”

You tightened your grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The tension was high, atmosphere thick with desire. You felt your knees tremble, ready to take whatever she was willing to give you. You pulled your head back a bit, just enough to look into her eyes, and what you saw almost made you whimper with anticipation. Her usually so pale blue eyes were dark, lustrous, her breathing heavier than usual and her lips were slightly parted.

Before either of you could say or do anything, you felt something drip on your cheek. Confusedly, you blinked a few times, and Larissa eyed your cheek in concern.

The drips quickly multiplied, and soon you were showered in, what you believed to be, blood. Your eyes widened as you looked around, unable to move. Everything was getting soaked with this red liquid. What was happening?

Larissa was the first to move. She pulled away from you but grabbed your hand and quickly led you outside, the other staff helping the kids get out of the ballroom as well. Some fled into the courtyard and some into the school halls. There was a big commotion amongst the students, and you and Larissa immediately sprang into action, trying to calm the scared kids. Marilyn came running with a pile of blankets and towels to wrap around the sopping pupils.

Whatever had happened, it was clearly meant as an attack of sorts. You were fuming. Even after all the positive feedback you got for your report, there were still some bad apples in the normie bunch. If you ever caught who did that, they would surely regret pulling a stunt like that.

—

After the, you now knew it to be, red dyed water attack, you helped Larissa, Marilyn and the other employees to bring the kids inside and to their dorm rooms. After the last student was brought to their room, you stood in the foyer, watching Larissa talk to the Sheriff. You could tell she was agitated… mad. But yet she kept her composure, talked calmly and was respectful. A light bump against your shoulder alerted you to the presence of your friend.

“Hey… thanks for your help! You really didn’t have to, you know?” Marilyn smiled defeatedly at you, and you returned the smile.

“It’s okay! I really didn’t mind… Just wished that this wouldn’t have happened… it’s not like they already have it hard enough and now that… I was really hoping that my report had a bigger impact but-”

“Don’t say that!” Marilyn interrupted, “Your article was eye-opening for so many people in town! It definitely helped! Big time! There’s just always gonna be a few assholes trying to ruin everything again.” She was clearly frustrated as well. You looked at her and chuckled, then shook your head.

“I guess you’re right..” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. The two of you stood in silence for a while until Marilyn noticed you watching Larissa again and smirked.

“Such a shame the two of you got interrupted! It almost seemed as if you were about to kiss.” She teased and your, admittedly already red, face started blushing furiously. You hit her arm lightly.

“Stop teasing!” You hissed, but Marilyn just laughed and nudged you again.

“What are we laughing about?” You both turned your head towards the voice and saw the headmistress standing in front of you. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity. Marilyn just chuckled and smirked at you, then at Larissa.

“Oh nothing important…” She took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together, “Well… I’ll be off… gotta get that red dye out of my hair somehow. Bye bye.” She waved at the two of you, leaving you alone with Larissa once more. She really had the audacity to leave you in situations like these every single time she had the opportunity to. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Larissa watched Marilyn in confusion, then turned to you.

“Y/N… thank you for helping out with the students! I- am so sorry you had to experience this…” She sounded… sad, upset, worried? You looked up at her and saw her looking at you.

“It’s quite alright! I’m just sad they had to experience that! It’s not fair… they’re good kids and I just don't get why anyone would want to harm them in any way…” You gave her a sad smile, then shyly reached out and grabbed her hand to squeeze it lightly.

“But I did really enjoy dancing with you, Larissa…” she smiled back at you and squeezed your hand back.

“As did I… uhm… would you like to come back to my quarters and get that paint washed off? Maybe have a glass of wine?” She was nervous. She was nervous and you could tell. The way her hand lightly trembled, and her eyes darted away from yours while asking. It filled your heart with that fuzzy warm feeling. You nodded and stepped to the side, still holding her hand.

“Lead the way!”

—

In Larissa’s quarters, she quickly went into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and some makeup wipes in the hopes of getting the dye off your skin and hair. You managed to wipe the paint off your face without any issues, but it really stuck to your hair. Larissa went to quickly shower off the paint, and you couldn't help but think about her in the shower. Water streaming down that smooth alabaster skin. You wished you could have joined her.

As Larissa got out of the shower, your breath got stuck in your throat. Her damp hair framed her face in gentle curls. She wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and you seriously didn’t think that this woman could get any more beautiful, but, alas, it seems you were mistaken. Before you stood a goddess in champagne coloured silk pyjamas.

Larissa blushed lightly and smiled at you as she saw you staring. She walked up to you and gently examined your hair, your nostrils filling with the scent of her shampoo by the close proximity of her.

“Seems the dye really stuck to your hair… here.” She handed you a fresh towel and some spare pyjamas.

“You can take a shower if you want to!” She added quietly. You smiled back at her and nodded, taking the items in your hands.

“Thank you! I’ll… uhm… I’ll be right back” You stammered out and quickly made your way to the bathroom. It was luxurious, like the rest of her quarters. You weren't surprised that she handed you the probably softest towel ever and the most luxurious pyjama you ever had the honour of wearing. This woman had an immaculate taste, and it was evident in every aspect of her life.

After your quick shower, you tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and walked out, your dress in your hands. That was definitely ruined now.

You entered the living room again and saw Larissa sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the small table in front of it. You put your dress in your bag and sat next to her. She looked over and smiled softly, handing you a glass of wine, which you took gratefully.

“Thank you! And thanks that I got to use your shower and… borrow some clothes! I really appreciate it.” You smiled at her and took a sip of the wine. Holy mother of god… of course, the wine was absolutely spectacular. Larissa smiled.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.. Plus, I do have to admit I like how my Pyjamas look on you.” She smirked and took a sip of her wine. Larissa eyed you as you just looked at her with wide eyes and a bashful look on your face. You sat the glass down and turned to look at her, clearly gathering your courage to say whatever was on your mind. She thought you looked adorable like that. However, what came out of your mouth next was not something she’d expected to hear.

“It’s truly a shame that you didn’t get to take my dress off and discard it somewhere in your room…” You smirked at her smugly, but before you could continue your teasing, she had you already pressed against the cushion of the couch. Looking at her, you saw her eyes were full of lust, full of hunger. She gently lifted your head with her finger under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact as she gently pressed her knee between your legs. You inhale sharply and look at her, lust evident in your gaze.

“If you want me, all you have to do is say it.” She husked, ghosting her lips over yours. Larissa loved the way you trembled underneath her, but every time you tried to close the gap, she would pull away.

“You have to say it, darling,” she whispered. You were getting restless, a needy whine escaping you.

“Please Larissa…” You whimper and look at her with your best puppy eyes.

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… I need you… I want you,” you breathe out. The heat began to build, and you could already feel that you were soaked. Larissa grinned down at you.

“Good girl!”

You didn’t have time to react as Larissa finally closed the gap, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was so full of need and lust. Your lips moved against hers in perfect harmony. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her close.

The kiss quickly grew hot, passionate. Larissa bit your lower lip, causing you to gasp and giving her the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. She explored your mouth with her tongue, leaving you in a state of dizzying bliss. Her skilled tongue fought with yours for dominance, kissing you with such fervour that both of you almost ran out of breath.

You pulled apart just quickly to catch your breaths before Larissa attacked your neck with hot open-mouthed kisses. Trailing her tongue over your pulse point, then latching on to it and sucking hard. Your back arched into her, head tilting to the side to give her better access.

The aching between your legs became almost unbearable. You wrapped one of your legs around her hips, pulling her closer, but Larissa gently pulled away, causing a pathetic whine to escape.

“Patience darling!” She husked as she sat up and swiftly picked you up, carrying you to her bedroom and dropping you on the bed. The second you laid there, she was already on you again, her lips continuing their assault on your neck. Larissa moved to slowly unbutton the pyjama shirt you were wearing, but you were too impatient. With a swift motion, you helped her unbutton the rest of the shirt and pulled it off of your body, leaving you with a bare chest. Larissa chuckled darkly.

“Impatient are we?” she roamed her hands over your soft stomach, cupping one of your breasts. Dipping her head down again, she moved to the other breast and took your hardened nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. You moved your hands in her hair, pulling gently at the sensation she was rewarding you with. Larissa moaned against your breast as a reaction which caused you to buck your hips up. You were so desperate for her, and it was so pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you could feel, small, taste, hear, was her. And you needed more.

“Rissa please,” you groaned as you felt her lips travel towards the hem of the pyjama trousers.

“Need you,” you breathed out. Looking down, you saw her smirk up at you. As she pulled away again you were about to protest but seeing her take her blouse off silenced you immediately. You sat up, reaching out to her and running your fingertips over her body, watching goosebumps spreading over her skin. You cupped her breasts and massaged them, teasing her nipples with your fingers as you leaned in to kiss her.

Larissa melted into your touch and kiss. Quiet sighs and moans leaving her lips as she laid you back down.

“I need to taste you darling,” she whispered between kisses, and you whimpered in response, nodding gently.

“Please! Please…”

Larissa kissed her way down your body again, pulling the trousers down as she moved her kisses down your legs. She threw the trousers somewhere into the dark of the room, then moved her hands to your knees, spreading your legs gently. She groaned at the sight of a wet spot on your white lace underwear. The blonde looked up at you, watching your reaction as she ran her thumb over the wet spot, pressing down on it gently. Your back arched off the bed and your mouth opened in a quiet moan.

“P- please Rissa… need you so bad,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thumb, needing more friction. In any other situation Larissa would have loved to tease you more, but she was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel her tongue on you. So without further pause, she swiftly pulled your thong down your legs. She almost moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt in front of her.

“All of this because of me?” she groaned and moved to kiss the inside of your thigh as you nodded.

“You’re such a good girl, y/n.'' Larissa couldn't hold back any more. She had to taste you. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water and her head dizzy. The second her tongue made contact with your wet and hot cunt, the breath got stuck in your throat and Larissa let out one of the most vulgar moans you’ve ever heard, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Larissa wasted no time in eating you out. Her tongue danced around your clit before she captured it between her lips and sucked. You moaned out loud, her name falling off your lips like a prayer. The way she used her mouth on you made you feel ecstatic, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The world, every responsibility you had, everything that has ever bothered or hurt you, everything that has been on your mind and stressing you out lately was just gone.

Larissa never slowed her ministrations on you, listening to your cues, noticing how your body reacted to certain things. She loved how easily your body reacted to her. It's like you were made to be pleased by her.

“R-issa… need more..” you gasped out between moans. You needed more of her, needed her in you. Larissa smirked and ran her tongue over the length of your slit one last time before rubbing two of her fingers against your entrance gently, coating it with your slick. You were so desperate to feel her fill you up, your hips rolling against her, motioning for her to stop teasing you. She easily slipped one finger in as soon as she thought they were wet enough. You let out a low moan and moved against her as she started pumping her finger in and out slowly. After a while, she pushed a second finger in and watched you grip the sheets.

“You take me so well, my love.” She praised and moved kisses up your body as she picked up speed with her fingers. Larissa managed to hit spots no one ever had, curling her fingers against that soft, spongy spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and you felt the coil tighten in your abdomen.

“M’close… Riss-ah” your moans only spurred her on more. She wanted to hear you, she wanted to see you come undone, she wanted to hear her name on your lips over and over and over again. Larissa picked up her pace again, using her thumb to rub small circles over your sensitive clit. The coil in your abdomen was about to snap, and she felt it.

“That's it! Cum for me, y/n. Let me hear you,” she husked into your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe. That was all you needed for the coil to snap. Your legs and arms wrapped around her, needing her impossibly close as you came on her hand with a cry of her name. Larissa was gentle. She helped you ride out your orgasm and then very carefully pulled her fingers out. Your limbs went weak and dropped from her. You lay on the bed, breathing heavily and exhausted. You felt a shift on the bed but didn't have the strength to open your eyes. A few minutes later you felt the mattress dip again then felt a soft, damp and warm sensation between your legs. Larissa had gotten some towels to help clean you up. She used the damp one to clean between your legs and used a dry one to dab the sweat off your face.

A soft smile spread over your lips as the blonde returned the towels, then came back and laid in bed next to you. Pulling her closer, you started to press soft sleepy kisses to her chin and neck, but she stopped you gently. You looked up at her with a pout, and she kissed your forehead gently.

“Rest!” She whispered and pulled you close. You frowned at her.

“But I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered back and held tightly onto her. She just shook her head, a content and also sleepy smile gracing her features.

“You can. Tomorrow! We have all day to ourselves tomorrow,” she replied and stroked your cheek gently, looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and nodded, snuggling into her embrace, you let out a quiet and content sigh. This felt right. This felt like home.

“Good Night Rissa.”

“Good Night y/n.”

-------

I hope you liked it <3 Comments are greatly appreciated :3

#fanfic #queer #ao3 #reader insert #sapphic #wlw #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie fanfics #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #larissa weems x fem!reader

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theonlyamazingtazmin · 2 months ago

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Elrondriel - First Elf to Elf intimacy

While I ruminate on a fanfic I’m currently outlining, I thought I could get out my thoughts through this way because its going to be long possible two year wait before we are back into the world of TRoP. However, I’d like to preface that I pinged the chemistry between Elrond and Galadriel from their first ever meet in Season 1 and had I not been swept by Haladriel, I probably would’ve been shipping them fulltime then. The chemistry was taut in Season 1 and its even more apparent and greatly so in Season 2 with the culmination of a kiss that I don’t think anyone would’ve guessed or believed despite the leaks (I certainly didn’t).

I don’t care to interpret this as platonic, I’m not sorry. You can throw as many of the interviews as you can but actors can and have lied before, I’m well experienced with this. In actual text in the show, this scene is presented with the full fanfare of longing and romance down to the music cues. Yes, it had a functional reason of providing cover, but Elrond is smart. He could’ve done a number of things before a kiss on the lips no less. A kiss on the forehead, the cheek, corner of the mouth even. Had the chemistry not been there, this onscreen kiss would’ve been fallen flat and not much anger towards it would be this high but people can recognise the level of chemistry between. The level of intimacy between Galadriel and Elrond is only second to the actual onscreen romantic couples we’ve seen in the show and movies.

An analysis:

I think people don’t realise that the kiss between Galadriel and Elrond is the first elf to elf romantic intimacy we’ve seen onscreen. Between the PJ movies and TRoP, we’ve seen Dwarf/Elf and Human/Elf romances which have been depicted as the peak of star crossed lovers separated by immortality and time — of which Elrond’s heritage is a product of that and his descendants continue to be in the far future.

The arguments (of cope) I've been seeing proclaiming that's how elves platonically say goodbye to their friends is very paper thin against all depiction of Elvish intimacy where its been clear that kisses are romantic, an expression of agape.

We've seen it with Aragorn and Arwen:

Arondir and Bronwyn:

Kili and Tauriel:

The first time we could've gotten Elf to Elf intimacy was in the Hobbit films with Legolas and Tauriel but we see an explicit rejection from Tauriel to Legolas for Kili and despite how close they were (though separated by rank), we could've seen the proposed platonic goodbye kiss but we didn't and we know why.

Okay, maybe the kiss is an outlier but physical closeness is surely the norm, right?

Not really, even under the guise of close friendship, Elrond and Galadriel remain outliers far closer and leaning to romantic. No other elves than them two interact the same way they do.

You'll see a familar scene of this

Their physical closeness (there's never a space for Jesus!), exceeds far beyond of other elves and their friendships, even for Elrond and Durin and its been consistent

Does this not look the image of a ruling couple

Images by @maul-of-shame

Even when they're angry at each other, it doesn't stop or impede their physical closeness. This is not a one time thing, but a consistent effort between them you don't see with the other elves.

This doesn't just stop in the show, but also in the movies. The chance to depict interaction between a married canon Elven couple and it was cold and distant between them.

PJ didn't care for Celeborn clearly but he could've easily had him in here taking on the role that Elrond is doing for his MIL :) But his omission is pointed and you have Elrond fulfilling that instead.

If you didn't know the history or lore about them, I guarantee most would've assume they're together

#elrondriel #elrond x galadriel #galadriel x elrond #galadriel #elrond #the rings of power #trop season 2 #trop s2 #rings of power #trop spoilers #lord of the rings #meta analysis #galrond

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sapphicnae · 7 months ago

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Love, Hate and Everything in Between

Summary: Regina hated you and you hated Regina. Each of you so obsessed with taking down the other. But was this obsession pure hatred or something more?

Character Pairings: Regina x fem!reader, Regina x Cady (if you squint)

Warnings: Slurs, Bullying, Toxic Behaviour, Internalised Homophobia

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first fic / one-shot on here so I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve been reading some fics on here and decided we don’t have enough Regina fics going round, so I thought, what better than a classic enemies to lovers (?). Apologies for any mistakes I did write half of this at 4am. If you do enjoy, please let me know because I wouldn’t mind turning this into a full blown fic, I have plenty more ideas for it. Also, I’m very open to requests!

You and Regina. Two of the most popular girls in school.

Regina hated you, and you hated Regina.

It had been this way since you had joined North Shore a year ago and gained popularity, despite Regina’s attempts to take you down at every turn. But one thing you and your best friend, Janis Imi’ike couldn’t figure out was why Regina was so obsessed with you. To the point you would catch her staring at you from across the cafeteria almost daily, albeit with an icy glare plastered on her face. You had both had your fair share of run-ins with each other, after all, Regina couldn’t stand to see the new girl rise to popularity as fast as you had in your year of being at this school. But the difference between you and Regina was that you actually treated people with respect... and you just happened look pretty while doing it.

Jealousy. That’s all you had chalked her behaviour down to, until recently.

Regina had consistently made it clear that she was in fact, not gay. From her messy relationship with Aaron Samuels to openly flirting with Shane Oman in the halls, she had made it very clear she only had eyes for men. Her performative gestures with Shane in the hallways also coupled with the spreading of rumours about certain people being a lesbian. From the way Regina had spoken this word, it had made it seem as if this was the worst possible thing to be known as at North Shore. No one in school had ever had the guts to stand up to Regina for her problematic behaviour, especially since she ruled the halls with fear. Yet her reign seemed to be interrupted the moment you transferred to North Shore. You were the only person who wasn’t afraid to defend yourself, or others for that matter.

Naturally, Regina could not stand this. Which lead to you having a constant target on your back for rumours and blatant lies in order for you to lose your popularity as well as your dignity. You thought it was incredibly excessive of her to make out that being a lesbian was a bad thing. Partly because your best friend and partner-in-crime, Janis was a lesbian and partly because deep down, you knew you had an attraction to girls too. Yet the only people who knew this was Janis and Damien, of course, your two closest friends.

You had not yet been in a relationship since joining North Shore that year, not due to avoidance, but due to all your time being taken up by your rivalry with Regina. Which was totally normal… right?

The most recent rumour that was circling the halls, of course spread by Regina, was that at a party that you had both been to last Friday night, you had made a pass at Regina. Hearing this from Damien in English class that day was the last thing you had needed, after enjoying a supposedly drama free day for once. Anyone who was at the party that night would’ve known that wasn’t true, yet Regina had a certain charm to the way she could make anything seem believable. You of course weren’t surprised at her attempts to drag your reputation down for the umpteenth time this year. She loved making out that you were the one who was obsessed with her and not the other way round. It irked you to think that she could get away with having the last laugh. You would have just let it slide, but your ego once again stood in the way of your ability to allow Regina to think she had won.

So that’s when lunch rolled around. You, Janis, and Damien were sitting at your usual table, with the plastics in view. Having to watch them gossiping with each other and occasionally glancing your way had left you with a deep-seated feeling of rage. You had never been one to keep your emotions in check, this seemed to be your downfall in situations like these. Feeling anger like this was always the driver of your revenge. Coupled with the fact that thoughts of Regina didn’t often leave your mind. Which was obviously due to the fact that you resented her so much. You hated everything about her. Sure, she was gorgeous, with those stupid green eyes that always harboured some form of winged eyeliner, along with the rest of her makeup that accentuated her already flawless features. That stupid beautiful blonde hair that always seemed to sit in the perfect place, flowing down her back like she was some sort of supermodel. Those perfect lips tha-

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now?” Janis questioned, lightly punching your arm, ripping you away from your thoughts. A small blush crept up your neck, realising you had been so deep in thoughts about Regina that you had completely zoned out of the conversation you were supposed to be having.

You faltered for a moment before attempting to save yourself with a reply “Y-yeah of course. I was just-“

“Clearly planning her revenge against queen of the plastics, god Janis, keep up” Damien chimes in, attempting to save the day. Janis just rolls her eyes at both of you. She had been dealing with Regina and her posse for years, which meant she had more or less tuned their drama out in an attempt to stay sane at this school. With you however, it was a different story, Regina somehow always found the perfect way to rile you up.

“The day queen bitch of North Shore gives it a rest with these dumbass rumours, will be the day I know peace” Janis huffed, which made both you and Damien chuckle in response. “Especially with her obsession over who’s a lesbian and who’s not. If you ask me, she should just come out of the closet already.” She then nods to you “I mean, the closet might as well be glass with the way she stares you down at any given moment. Coming from a fellow girl kisser, she wants you baaad.” She laughed at her own words. Receiving an eye roll from you this time.

“That girl needs to be called out on her shit.” You glance over at Regina who is sporting a smug smile listening in to her friends gossiping. You couldn’t stand the fact that she had gotten under your skin once again. With the rumour fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to act. Deep down you loved the drama between the both of you, it gave you some sort of high, being able to pull Regina off her own narcissistic pedestal. It was like some sort of addiction; you couldn’t get enough of it “in fact… what better time than right now?” You uttered, as you shot up from your seat. Before either Janis or Damien could sway you out of it, you were already making your way over to the table across the cafeteria.

As you approached, you could see Regina’s eyes flicker towards you, a wry smirk growing on her face. On seeing Regina’s attention shift, the rest of the plastics turned to face your way, which didn’t deter you in the slightest. Having a rivalry with Regina for this long, you were used to all eyes being plastered on you while confronting her. Plus, nothing about Regina’s minions scared you. All they ever seemed to do was blindly follow her around like lost puppies. The only person who you had never understood as being part of the group was Cady Heron. You had sat with her in a couple of your classes, and with the way she spoke, it seemed she so desperately wanted to be her own person instead of being grouped in with the meanest girls in school. This lead to you gaining a small amount of respect for her. A few times you had considered asking her why she still sticks with Regina after seeing the way she treats her, but you knew that would be a whole other mess. Besides, there was a high chance that she’d go running straight to Regina about it. It seemed as though Cady was on the tightest leash out of anyone in the plastics… probably because Regina knew she could be pulled away from her with the right amount of convincing.

Right before you reached the table you noticed Regina stiffen her posture, followed by a groan, “here comes queen lesbo of North Shore”, which was followed by a few snickers from Gretchen and Karen. Funnily enough, Cady remained silent. “What’s up? Couldn’t get enough of me Friday ni-“

You interrupt her by slamming your hands on the table, which not only grabbed the attention of the plastics, but those from surrounding tables too. You lock eyes with Regina as you spoke in a low tone, attempting to control your anger towards her.

“Real cute hearing that you’re telling people I came onto you, when anyone who was there knows we barely even made eye contact.” Regina raised an eyebrow at you, smirk still in place. She then spoke condescendingly, before you could continue.

“Oh honey, of course you don’t remember, you were sooo drunk and all over me, everyone saw it, right Gretch?” You then see her shoot a subtle dangerous look to which Gretchen instantly nodded in response. This amused you slightly, knowing she was laying it on thick. She was trying so desperately hard with this angle that you decided to use her tactics against her for once. You let out a laugh of false amusement before continuing.

“Oh please Regina, you’re trying so hard to convince everyone it’s true, almost as if… you wish it was? I mean it wouldn’t be surprising. I’ve seen the way you stare at me in the hallways, you make it a bit obvious don’t you think?” By this point, the smile on Regina’s face had completely dropped, morphing into a poisonous glare. As she opened her mouth to cut you off, you kept speaking, raising your tone to catch the attention of others. “-so obvious in fact, that I don’t even need to say it out loud, people are whispering about it already. So next time you wanna spread rumours like that, try taking a look in the mirror first.” People around you gasp, hearing you speak to Regina in the same way she would leaves even the queen bee herself in slight shock before she manages to compose herself. You hadn’t even considered the weight of the words you had spoken until they had left your mouth. You had basically just accused her of having a huge crush on you and judging by the state it left her in, it didn’t seem like that was far from the truth.

“So, you are gay?” Karen pipes up first, mouth slightly agape as she speaks. Regina shoots a glare at her this time, making her immediately look in the opposite direction.

It was your turn to smirk seeing her cheeks turn scarlet as she gritted her teeth. She was clearly outraged, the look on her face said so. Yet, hidden behind her eyes, there seemed to be an ounce of shame present. Having a moment to study this look almost made you feel… regret? Though in the next beat, she rose up from where she was sitting and took a few steps towards where you’re stood, towering over you slightly. She had rarely ever made a move to get this close to you before, and standing where she is right now, you could practically smell her expensive perfume. You fought the urge to take a step back, as your breath hitched slightly. For a moment she hesitates, her eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second, but not fast enough that you don’t catch her doing it. If this wasn’t happening in front of the whole school crowd, you would be sure that she was about to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself taking a heavy breath to steady yourself before she snaps at you.

“Listen, dyke. If you ever catch me staring at you it’s because I think you’re a freak. And if you think for one second, I would ever be into you, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. So why don’t you and the rest of your sad little band of freaks over there, go and-“

She is almost immediately cut off by a teacher who walks over to the group, clearly having been alerted of the altercation going off in the middle of the cafeteria. Regina immediately takes a step back from you and fixes her hair, attempting to seem as innocent as possible.

“Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Norbury questions, looking between the two of you. With the rest of the plastics keeping silent, it was up to one of you to speak up first. Regina then plasters a fake polite look on her face and turns to Ms. Norbury to speak. Right as you expected her to defame you all the way to your seat in detention, she instead gives a different response.

“There’s no problem, everything’s fine.” Regina smiles at her as you see the rest of her crew nodding behind her, which brings you to scoff at the sudden change up in her demeanour. Having dealt with Regina many times before, it was clear that Ms. Norbury saw right through this attempt to get her to leave you both to it. Which lead to what she had to say next.

“Look girls, I know the two of you have had issues in the past. But I won’t tolerate drama like this during school hours.” She then steps between the both of you. “Now separate this and I’ll see you in my office after school. Both of you.” She then turns on her heel and walks away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in disbelief. After this, you decide it’s best to walk away from Regina and return to your table before your day could get any worse. But not before she hastily grips your forearm and subtly whispers some hostile words a little too close to your ear.

“We are so not done, freak” she then roughly drops your arm before coasting back to her seat. Though her threatening remark left you stunned for a moment, her closeness left you breathless for longer. As you made your way back to Janis and Damien, you couldn't get the thought of her out of your head. After all the tension and pent-up anger between you, you secretly hoped she might be right. Because as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, your heart thumped in your chest, not out of fear, but something else. You were definitely not done with each other. Not by a long shot.

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #cady heron #janis imi'ike #mean girls #regina george x fem!reader #fanfic #mean girls musical #renee rapp #angst #love hate and everything in between

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year ago

Text

Gothic Fantasy

Pairing: Vampire!August x Reader

Summary: Are you in over your head, little girl?

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, exhibitionism, oral sex (m and f receiving), spanking, p in v (doggy style), anal toy/anal sex, dom!August, Sir and princess, monster fucking (which involves at least one bite, right?).

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

You took your time with a little extra research, but the ancient myth vibe of the story you created out of your experience with Sy was a hit and your werewolf!boyfriend tale had been picking up steam thanks to the upcoming holiday. Subscriptions were rolling in which left you both excited and anxious.

sendmeanangel: i have enough to cover at least two more stays even if nothing more comes in at this point MNstrluvr: how could nothing more come in? sendmeanangel: look, i’m having a great time, but at some point in my life i should probably stop paying for monster sex and get a boyfriend, right? darkgothnightengale: that time doesn’t have to be right now. Besides, how will you ever go back to some regular guy? sendmeanangel: very funny. This can’t be a sustainable way to go through life. I just worry people will start feeling like they are owed new monster fucking tales every week because they subscribed to read the ones already out there. I don’t want to let people down or make them think they got played somehow MNstrluvr: what if when you get to the point where you think you're through, you make that clear to any new subscribers? And just because you aren’t fucking a new monster at the hotel every week doesn’t mean you can’t keep writing amazing stories that your followers will love darkgothnightengale: you can write whatever you want when you want. There’s nothing on the site that promises content on any kind of consistent basis and people can always stop subscribing if they feel cheated, which is stupid because they are still getting quality content. you have a voice that people like to read. It doesn’t have to be about shapeshifters or vampires sendmeanangel: speaking of which MNstrluvr: YES!!! I’m so glad you decided to try him next. I cannot wait. He looks so fucking hot sendmeanangel: yeah, well walter continues to be completely booked. besides, they all look fucking hot lol MNstrluvr: there’s just something even more dangerous in his eyes. He looks totally unhinged. In a good way. darkgothnightengale: the best way sendmeanangel: you guys are crazy

“It's lovely to see you again. Thank you for signing the T&C online this time. I hope you had a chance to look through the extra restrictions on this room. It's very important that they are adhered to.”

Were you being called out? Did the hotel somehow know your two previous hosts had broken rules for you? Hopefully no one was getting into trouble.

“We simply don't want any mishaps,” as if in answer to the questions swirling in your mind. Though it still didn't tell you if they knew.

The desk clerk handed you another heavy iron key. Where the mechanism to open the forest room last month had been fairly plain and rustic, this one was filled with intricate lacy patterns. You wanted to snap a picture of the antique gothic skeleton key and send it to your online friends but decided it might be too much like bragging. After all, this would be the third fantasy visit they'd talked you into. Not that you needed much prodding anymore. That they couldn't partake in reality was making you feel bad, no matter how happy for you your friends said they were.

You made your way down the hall after exiting the elevator and stopped before the heavy wooden arched door full of intricately carved details that matched the key in your hand. The room was dark when you stepped in, but before you could reach for a light switch, a deep voice spoke from across the room, sending a cold shiver down your spine.

"You're late."

"I only just checked in."

"And no apology, I see. It's five after. We were to start on the hour. I assumed that was clear, but maybe I'll need to remind you of the importance of punctuality during our time together."

A finger snap sounded from the place in the dark where you heard the voice and flames lit up a fireplace nearby. Your eyes were drawn there, hoping the glow of the flame would illuminate your host, but no one appeared. All you saw was the carved stone of the mantle and wrought iron candelabras filled with fat pillars that were lighting one by one as if by magic as well.

As the warm light began to bathe the room, you felt a rush of air behind you and heard the door to the room slam shut. You turned to see nothing again, though you heard the click of a lock.

"Did you at least come prepared?" the voice sounded near your ear, though again, no one was to be seen as you spun once more to face into the room.

"I did," you answered into the space in front of you, even as you peered left and right. Where the fuck was he?

“Right here,” he spoke from behind you again, and this time you could see as well as feel the hands that gripped your upper arms and held you tight against the solid form behind you. You glanced at the fingers curled around your biceps and licked your lips, thinking of where you’d rather have them. Caressing your face. Around your throat. Thrust deep inside…”Before we get there, I believe you owe me an apology.”

And now you had a choice. How would that apology go? Remain standing like an insolent brat or kneel to the man you wanted to dominate you this evening? Not that he wouldn’t dominate the brat as well, but maybe you didn’t need it to be so demanding this first time. His fingers loosened as you began to turn toward him but you sunk to your knees before you saw his face, so it wasn’t until you lifted your chin to plead forgiveness that you had the opportunity to drink him in.

He was dressed in sharp black pants with a crisp crease down the front of each leg. A neatly pressed black button up shirt with french cuffs and mother of pearl links sat behind a black silk brocade vest with mother of pearl buttons. In the light, you couldn’t tell for sure, but the pattern in the vest seemed to match the key as well. A blood-red silk tie paired with a handkerchief peeking from the front of his jet black jacket that set off his broad shoulders nicely and was buttoned at the right height to taper his waist.

But his face. You inhaled to keep yourself steady before you spoke the words requesting his forgiveness. The calming breath helped you take in more of his visage without fainting on the spot.

His jawline was strong. And unlike the fuller beards of Walter or Sy, this man’s facial hair consisted of a five o’clock shadow and a neatly trimmed mustache. His dark hair was swept back to the side, though you could tell if he hadn’t styled it perfectly, the curl would take over. You’d love to see it sometime. Maybe even tonight.

What caught your breath in your throat was his piercing blue eyes and it took you a few moments to realize he was laughing at you. You had to fight to gain control from his mesmerizing gaze, but before you could ask him to repeat himself, he already was.

“I said," Apology accepted” and you can stand now, princess. Show me what you came with.” He helped you to stand, then drew his hand down your arm as he took a step back. He dropped your hand and motioned toward you before he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head as if to say “go ahead now.”

You took a deep breath, suddenly unsure if you’d made the right ensemble choice. Though it matched his outfit perfectly somehow, you were hesitant to bare so much to him so soon. But there was no turning back now. Well, of course there was, but you didn’t want to. At best, you could imagine excusing yourself to use the restroom and changing into a different outfit.

You undid the belt on your long, black trench coat, then popped the buttons one by one until you could open the flaps and shrug the coat off your shoulders and down your arms. You were about to let it drop to the floor, but something made you stop and hold the fabric in your hands at your sides.

“May I take your coat?” he asked like the gentleman he was portraying, holding out a hand and you reached it over to him, before smoothing your hands down the body of your black strapless gown, worrying away the non-existent wrinkles. A few blood-red rose embellishments nestled strategically into the delicate embroidery woven along the sheer black lace bodice of the dress, your bare skin visible only in the spots where no design was found. You released the clasps attaching the hem of the dress to the waist and allowed the full length of the black silk skirt to flow to the ground. It sported a trail of matching but larger floral adornments cascading in spiral from one hip across the front and down the other side. With the matching red silk pumps, you were a vision. You felt a rush of air and as you lifted your gaze from your dress back to him, your coat seemed to have disappeared, because it was no longer in his hands. And the look on his face told you you’d made the right choice.

“You look ravishing.” At his words of praise you forgot all about where your coat might have gotten off to.

“Is this okay?”

“If this is the attire you wished to begin in, then it’s perfect. We’ve already lost so much precious time with your late arrival.”

You stood silent, unsure if he was asking for another apology. It seemed like a bad idea to let him actually ask before you offered another, but your voice was stuck in your throat, so taken were you by his demeanor. It turned out you were wrong to wait.

“I don’t like to ask for apologies, but trust that I will whenever they are warranted. Hopefully, you’ll begin to know when you’ve crossed a line. I suppose technically, you have already apologized, so I won’t ask for another. This time.” At the admonishment, you dropped your gaze to the floor with embarrassment. “I also ask your forgiveness for my rudeness. So many lessons you’re learning already and you don’t even know my name yet. Allow me to correct that. My name is August Walker and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally.”

What did he mean by finally? Here, now, in this room when he finally shared his name and lifted your arm to kiss the back of your hand? Or had he heard stories about you too?

“May I add something to your ensemble?” You could practically hear the subtle tilt of his head in question.

“Of course,” you replied, willing your nerves to allow you to look up at him again.

“It's only, well, you look so delicious. I'm afraid I'll need a reminder, or rather, a deterrent.” His hands raised, something appearing between his fingers as if from nowhere. You noticed a wide band of heavy black embroidered ribbon with metal clasps at each end. Your chin tilted almost involuntarily to allow him room to place the choker around your neck.

“You don’t want to…?” Was he not going to bite you? Did you make a mistake by not actually reading the T&C when you signed, scrolling quickly to the end of the form and checking the box as fast as you could to make sure the room wasn’t swiped from under you before you’d had a chance to complete the online booking.

“I never said that,” he replied, stepping in closer as he traced a finger around one side of your neck, down over your collarbone, and stopping just at the valley between your breasts.

“Is there a rule you’re afraid of breaking with me?” you asked, craning to bring your lips closer to his.

“I don't break the rules darling, I make them.” August returned his hand to your neck, stilling your advancement with the smallest effort.

“Well then, are you unable to actually bite me?” you asked, not sure whether you wanted him to consider this a question that crossed the line.

“Oh, I'm free to bite when and where you want. Many foolishly ask for the neck. In those moments, I usually oblige.”

“But…” you began.

“But there is a sweeter spot, more delicate, most delicious. This,” he let his finger run along the material around your throat, ”will help me make the better choice for both of us.”

You drew in a quick breath through your nose, causing a shudder in your shoulders as you realized you’d been holding your breath while he hinted at where he’d prefer to bite you. You’d chosen the dress specifically because it bared so much of your body near your neck that you’d hoped he couldn’t help but want to taste you. You foolishly never considered how much more bare you’d need to be before he was able to see the spot he wanted.

His dark chuckle unnerved you, but he quelled your apprehension with an invitation to join him at the dinner table. You’d completely forgotten that this experience had promised an evening meal, but honestly you assumed that was just some clever play on words. That you were to be the meal. He escorted you to a corner of the room near the fireplace, where a sumptuous feast had been set, and deposited you on one side of the table before taking a seat across from you.

“Would you care for some wine this evening?”

“Wine sounds lovely,” you answered, suddenly curious if he’d be drinking and eating with you. You watched as he lifted a decanted red and filled your glass, only to replace the crystal container onto the table before pouring a glass of his own from a dark brown glass bottle. He lifted his glass to toast your evening.

You watched carefully as he brought the goblet to his lips and drank, noticing that no obvious fangs appeared as he opened his mouth, though his canines did seem a little longer than you were used to. At least until recently that was. The men at this hotel all seemed to have been genetically gifted with glorious canine teeth and you weren’t complaining in the least.

“Now, what can I offer you to eat?” Cut fruit sat in open bowls alongside a tray of sliced meats and cheeses. He began to lift the covers off several porcelain serving dishes, revealing chicken and beef dishes, as well as vegetables and roasted potatoes. At your hesitancy, he smiled, as if extremely pleased, and continued. “Or would you prefer I choose for you?”

“I’d like it very much if you would recommend something. It all looks so wonderful.”

“Would you pass me your plate?” You obliged and he ladled servings of a few of the dishes. You noted with curiosity that he was choosing everything you would have chosen for yourself and none of the items you’d already determined you didn’t want to try, though you hadn’t said a word.

You thanked him as he handed your plate back and he invited you to begin, which you did. Because he’d asked you to. As you took your first bite, you moaned at the taste in your mouth and you thought you saw him lick his lips. What you didn’t see him do was serve himself.

“Is it to your liking then?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s delicious, thank you August…may I call you August?”

“For now. Now, what shall we talk about at this very civilized dinner we’re having together?” he asked, as he leaned back in his chair, goblet in one hand, as the fingers of the other drew lazy circles on the tablecloth.

“Can we talk about how it doesn’t appear you're actually going to be eating with me?” You knew it was a bold question, but you still wanted to needle him a little, see where the line was.

“You see, it’s the insolence I mind. Not the question. There is a way to go about asking what you want to know without making it seem like you are trying to anger me. Or are you? Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, August,” you spoke as you placed your fork down. You had a sudden, unfortunate thought. What if you weren’t the only one who could call the whole thing off? What if your hosts had just as much right to pull out a safeword and end the liaison? You supposed, even though you were paying for the pleasure, they had to have a say in things as well. Otherwise, they were just…the thought made you shudder and not in a good way. “I am truly sorry. That was rude of me. Are you able to eat with me?”

“I am not. But I’m more than happy to enjoy your company and a more pleasant conversation while you dine. If you agree, of course.”

“Of course. Please, can we start over?”

“Pick up your fork and take a bite,” he commanded. “Continue your meal. And consider what you would like to talk about.” He took another drink and watched you with deeply penetrating eyes.

The meal was delicious and you finally figured out a topic of conversation that was neither too personal nor banal. When you made him laugh, you felt a small weight lift off your shoulders, as if his heavy and dark demeanor had made you nervous that this choice of hotel hosts was a mistake.

You had always been a bit enthralled with vampires. Loved reading Dracula both as published and in chronological order, as you’d heard about on Tumblr. Enjoyed the myriad of cinematic adaptations of the tale, especially the ones that played up the sensuality of the character. You really never imagined them to be real, but then again, you didn’t think werewolves or minotaurs were real either. For a brief moment, you thought back to your previous visits, letting your fork trail down with a slow descent.

“Finished?” he asked when your utensil hit the plate, eyebrow raised in question as he leaned forward preparing to scoot his chair back from the table. Before you’d even finished your nod, he was at your chair, easing it away from the table and offering you a hand to help you up.

“I think it’s quite time to get started on the rest of your lessons. Would you step to the window please?”

You turned and noticed the thick, black velvet curtains and assumed they must cover a window. You were commanded to open them, and you did, peering out into practical darkness only to see your reflection in place of any scenery. You glanced to the side of your image when you felt the fingertips at the top of your zipper, but though you knew they were attached to arms, attached to a body that was pressed right against you, adding more drag to his knuckles against your skin as he pulled the zipper down, you saw nothing in the mirrored window that would tell you another being was in the room with you.

You gasped, but he mistook it for shyness.

“I like to show off my conquests to whomever may be passing by below. We’re far enough up that no one could make out a face, but the body they’ll see,�� he finished unzipping your dress and pushed it down your sides, letting it drop to a puddle of fabric at your feet. “The hint of red from these barely there panties, the silhouette of these curves.” You could feel but still not see his hands running up and down the sides of your body, his hands gripping your thighs before traveling up to cup your breasts. You watched as they bounced lightly in the reflection and smirked back at where you assumed his face would be before licking your matte red lips.

Your concentration was broken for a brief moment at the far off sound of a melancholy howl, but August didn’t let you linger on the thought. He spun you around to him and pressed you back toward the window, where you hissed when your ass came into contact with the chilly pane. How he missed the clink against the window, you’ll never know.

Then he caught your attention and you lost all concern for how exposed or cold your body might be at the moment. The change was practically imperceptible. One moment, he held your gaze with his dark and stormy eyes. In the next blink, his eyes burned red and held you rapt as he began to grin. Slowly, as his lips drew back, the fangs descended and you could swear you heard a faint click.

You probably let out a whimper when you saw him run his tongue along the sharp points and you definitely tilted your head on impulse, forgetting for a moment that he had already refused to take you there.

“I’d like you on your knees, please,” he asked, a little nicer than you imagined he had reason to be. Once you had obliged, he returned to commands. “Take me out.”

You did so gladly and without delay. Every assumption you made turned out to be right. He was just as well endowed as your other hosts, at least in human form. Which was nothing to sneeze at and you certainly weren’t kicking it out of bed.

You feasted on him as if you hadn’t just already eaten and you were happy to hear the sounds from him that told you he was enjoying it. And then he spoke to you.

“You like sucking on this cock, where everyone can see you, don’t you?”

Truth be told, it had never occurred to you before. But there was an exhibitionism option on the registration form and you clicked it in a moment of audacity. He was simply giving you what you had asked for, right? It would feel this way for any guest he had in this room, right? That feeling of being out of control while technically being in the most control? You wanted him to take it.

“Yes,” you gasped as you pulled your head back for air before diving forward to take him down your throat again.

“I knew that you would. You like being naughty, don’t you?”

You bobbed your head up and down as you looked up at him, praying he didn’t make you take him out of your mouth just so he could hear you answer verbally. Your prayers were not answered.

“I asked you a question. Would you care to answer? Now? You know how I feel about punctuality, I trust.”

“Yes. Yes August, I’m sorry. I do. I really do like being naughty with you.”

Another howl sounded, closer this time and you thought you detected the slightest of eye rolls before August got stern again, reaching down to take hold of your upper arm and lifting you to your feet with ease.

“You’re going to call me Sir from here on out and you’re going to be naughty another way now. First, close the curtains.” He spun you around so you could grab hold of the panels and draw them towards one another. You thought you glimpsed a pair of eyes, a deep glowing amber flame in the night before you shut out the world for good for the moment.

August pulled you close and whispered in your ear, “I’ll open them again if you want, if you didn’t get enough of a taste of that. I’ll take that as far as you want to go. But you should know,... he’ll see.”

It both excited you and made you afraid. Afraid of the feelings you knew had been stirring for weeks now. And yet, you were here. In this room. With this man. As much as you thought about what might be, you also knew you wanted to experience what you could. So you’d never have to doubt or question, because you knew you’d be getting the best in the end. Could it really ever be that way? Could he ever feel the same?

“I’m good. Thank you. That’s really kind of you,” you blinked, bringing yourself back to this moment. To August. “Sir.”

“That might be the last time tonight I will be. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes, Sir” you answered, with no more doubt.

August took you in his arms and kissed you deep and hard, one time, before he turned you by your shoulders and gave you a firm slap on the ass. “Into the bedroom.” The ‘now” at your hesitation was punctuated with another sharp crack and you were wet, there was no doubt about it.

The hotel suite was bathed in sheer red curtains, over the window, over the ornate gothic canopy bed, draped down the black walls. Tall black metal candelabras held glowing candles to light the room. Hooks and straps and rings attached to the walls in various spots held your attention for a brief moment. You hadn’t checked that box, and now you wondered why not.

You could only see yourself trying a few new things at once.

These things tonight would be a vampire. And you’d already exposed yourself. Only one more to go, and the bondage wasn’t going to be it.

August turned you back towards him when you reached the foot of the bed, then proceeded to undress. You watched enthralled as he unbuttoned his jacket, the vest, his shirtsleeves, his shirt. You watched as it all came off, one piece at a time, designed to torture you, you were sure of it. He was fucking with you. Keeping you from seeing everything all at once.

You bit your lip, but all you wanted to say was ‘i’ve seen your dick already it’s been in my mouth please give it back.’

He finally did, ordering you to the bed on your hands and knees as he stepped his fully naked body toward you, halting at the foot of the bed to grab your head and stuff his cock right down your throat. Like he’d heard what you thought.

You moaned around him, squeezing your thighs together for friction as you gyrated your hips and bobbed your head back and forth along his length. It would take barely nothing, just the slightest touch, if he would just, yeah, just…

“Oh, you did come prepared, didn’t you?”

You moaned again when you felt his fingers slide over your ass and pause to rub against the handle of the largest teardrop plug you owned. It came in a set of three, black silicone with a shiny red crystal in each handle. Up until this week, you'd only ever used the smallest while alone, but decided you needed to be ready and so had worked your way up to the largest just last night.

“Yes, Sir,” you pulled off and answered quickly, eager to get back to sucking his large member.

“What are you prepared for?” He wiggled the handle a little when he asked.

“For you to fuck my ass, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he slapped a cheek again, then smoothed his hand over the sting and down in the dip to find your aching pussy and just like you knew it would, his touch lit you on fire. He had the wherewithal to slide your thong to the side and angle two fingers so you could press back into them on your withdrawal from his dick and pull away from them, though he’d chase, on your approach. You fucked back into his hand like you were possessed and you came once more because you definitely were.

This man owned you. For tonight anyway. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn’t say no. No way in hell.

He pulled away and turned you to face the other direction, ass waving in the space directly in front of him as you imagined and wished and hoped he’d just fuck you, please very much. He chuckled and you blinked, imagining you’d seen him now standing at the nightstand, now right behind you again. You felt him pull your underwear all the way off. And you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and you felt him slide two fingers back inside you, felt him rub the pads of his fingers along your inner walls and you felt him find the right spot, the one that released more lubrication which he gladly gathered on his finger and smeared all over his sheathed cock before he pressed himself into you.

He fucked you for a bit before he spoke again.

“I’m going to give you what you want me to give you, and then you’re going to give me what you want to give me.” With a slap on your ass, he pulled out, grabbed your hips and flipped you to your back. You watched him discard the condom before he climbed on to the bed and stepped his knees between your legs, nudging you further up the bed so that he could lay his body on the mattress, his head on your thigh, peering at your puffy pussy.

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” he murmured, dipping his head down to take a taste. His tongue trailed through your folds and as his lips closed you felt a hint of the scrape of his teeth against your delicate skin. He sucked at your clit for a moment before he drew back and looked up at you.

“You still want to feel this?” he asked, and you paused for one moment to consider, that yes, yes you absolutely still wanted to know what his bite would feel like. There was really no doubt in your mind. It’s what you came here for. And you knew you needed to answer him directly or it would all be over.

“Yes, Sir. Yes. Please. I want to feel it. I want to feel your bite.”

It was all he needed. In a flash he was at the crease in your thigh, just outside your cunt. You felt his mouth open, felt him drag his teeth back and forth before he finally settled on a spot to sink them. Your pussy pulsed around nothing but the brief rhythmic flow of your blood drawn into his mouth.

You felt a rush of euphoria, a warmth like never before. A million stars lit up in your eyes and you could feel every molecule in your body and every one of them was in a state of bliss. You felt him take one more pull, a wave rushing across the shore of your imagination. When he stopped, it was almost as torturous as before he had begun. At least now you knew what that bliss could feel like.

It scared you a little. It felt like a drug you didn't want to mess around with. As good as it felt, you could imagine never wanting to let the feeling go. Begging for more. Offering up your body and soul to get one more taste, one more drifting orgasm.

Suddenly you were aware of the softest lick. The smallest peck of the lips. When you looked up at you, a stain of blood still remained on his lips and he saw you moan, saw you begin to writhe and strain up, even against the voice in your head that told you it was wrong, and it was all he could do to turn away.

“Please August,” you begged, forgetting what role you were in.

“Princess, not for a million dollars. Not for ten million. There is literally nothing you could offer me that would make me break that rule.”

“What rule, August? What can’t you do for me?” you pleaded for an answer, pressing yourself up to your knees, unaware that the rush you were experiencing had nothing to do with the way you thought you felt about August in the moment, and everything to do with the essence he used to ease the pain of the skin break, numb the feeling of loss, and reseal the wound in the aftermath.

“I get the feeling you really didn’t read the T&C, darling. If you had you would know, in this room, this suite,” he emphasized, as if he’d had to make that clarification before, “I cannot feed you. Even if what you’ve scented is your own blood. It’s too dangerous for you to taste it. Full of my saliva. Mixed together, it’s too potent for you.”

You were distraught and he was … was he amused?

“But I’ve given you what you asked for. Are you still ready to give me what you want?” He waited a few moments, allowing you to come to grips with the reality of the situation. You had slipped over a line, though it didn’t sound like this was something he hadn’t experienced before. A naive young thing, determined to play out a school girl fantasy, relive the stories she made up about being ravished and taken by the Count, made to be his bride.

With a small shake of your head, something cleared its way to the forefront of your mind. Of course he couldn’t feed you and of course you didn’t really want him to. It was a fantasy. That’s it. That’s all. You could only take this so far.

Once he saw you understood where the line was, August's chuckle was sinister. “You can still have something new. I’m more than happy to accommodate that request. As a matter of fact, I think that’s really the only reason you came here tonight, isn’t that right?”

Oh, he was good. That’s for sure. The way he was subtly shifting the priority of the night. Technically speaking, the only thing you’d really wanted was the bite. And he’d already given that to you. So if you were up for one more game…

“That’s right.”

He grabbed your chin and stared directly into your eyes. “That’s right, what?”

“That’s right, SIr.”

“Good girl. Lay back down. I’ll be right back.”

You wanted to kiss him goodbye as he let go of your face and appeared to float away from you. When he returned from the bathroom, his face was fresh and free of any temptation.

“Alright, princess. Hands and knees again, darling. Bring that ass right on over here,” he directed you back to the edge of the bed, ass once again in the air while you rested on your forearms.

August took his time. Warmed you up with a few more light taps that grew to harsh stings that you couldn’t stop squirming for. And you squirmed again when he tugged and twisted and pulled on the handle, teasing the plug almost all the way out before pushing it back in and then repeating the exquisite torture. You couldn’t hold still until he’d finally pulled it all the way out and pressed two lubed fingers into your puckered hole, and it was only because you needed a moment. Needed to let the sensation settle. Needed to relax to let him in deeper. Let another finger in. It wasn’t long before you were fucking yourself back on his hand again. ‘Same but different’ was all your mind could cobble together.

“Please, Sir,” you managed to gasp out in a moment of clarity. If you never asked, would he have just kept you dangling like this all night? “Please fuck my ass.”

“There you go, princess. You’ve found your manners finally.” He pulled his fingers out and you heard the familiar tear of another wrapper. Felt more lube. And finally, finally had the tip of what you knew was his extremely large cock pressed against your entrance.

It was easy to relax. He’d been prepping you for this for what felt like hours. It took nothing more than for you to release the deep breath you’d taken and he was past the now-less-tight ring and moving further inside you, slowly and with purpose. That purpose was to get you comfortable with the feeling, loosen you up further, and get you begging for more of him. Faster. Harder. Please, Sir. Please! More!

He obliged and it was not much longer before you felt the familiar coil tightening in a brand new way. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. You were breaking protocol and screaming his name instead of Sir, but as he came himself, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

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#august walker fanfiction #august walker x reader #august walker #vampire!august #vampire!august walker #vampire!august x reader #vampire!august walker x reader #spoopy season #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #gothic fantasy #mine #deandoesthingstome

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