#i love chappell roan but like that song is about comphet

[weirdsociology]

i keep seeing the post that incidentally posits chappell roan's good luck babe! is a pastiche of kate bush and every time it floats by i can feel my brain getting new wrinkles trying to determine how that could possibly be true.

[fadingdaggerr]

HIIII! I LOVE THE FIC YOU WROTE, THE AND NOW? SINCE UHM YOU'VE DONE CASUAL AND RED WINE SUPERNOVA, DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO ONE WITH GOOD LUCK, BABE? OF COURSE WITH A HAPPY ENDING BUT WITH LOTS OF ANGST? OH AND IF YOU CAN'T OR TOTALLY DON'T WANT TO, IT'S ALSO FINE!

truth be told

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa loves you, in what way, she doesn’t want to know. based on good luck, babe! by chappell roan | 7.8k

includes: they/them used for reader (legit once), r is mean direct during the fights (within reason? up to interpretation), angst, HURT/comfort, happy ending

warnings: internalized homophobia and comphet, unhealthy relationship dynamic, swearing, verbal fighting, light kissing/making out

note: i do think melissa is bisexual, but the song is about a lesbian dealing with comphet, so for the sake of the fic, melissa is meant to be read as a lesbian. let’s go lesbians, let’s go! buncha lesbians coming thru! also u can’t tell me mel isn’t a taurus. be so fr. i know lisa’s a leo but look me in the eyes and say that a primary trait of ‘stubborn’ isn’t melissa. u can’t. ruled by venus? like come on.

I, Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti

You’re quite comfortable in this spot on the floor, curled against the couch with your head resting against Melissa’s thigh, rounded nails grazing over the stretch of your neck and exposed shoulder. Eyes numbly glued to the corner of the coffee table, the chattering of the Schemmenti family around you feels far away, not even Vinny and Annette’s arguing over God-knows-what can reach you. It’s peaceful here, even with the yelling and seemingly genetic snort-laugh they all possess. It feels like home in every way.

Something that sounds far away, underwater, that resembles your name passes your ear, but does not breach the wall of comfort around you. The light rocking of your head and grazing nails turning to gentle scratching pulls you back to shore, head shifting to look up at Melissa, eyes scanning her face. All you manage is a questioning hum as you regain your social bearings.

Melissa’s hand slides up your neck to softly hold your chin, “was asking if you’re alright. You’re awful quiet down there by yourself.”

“‘M good, Mel. Just existing, I guess,” you answer, leaning into her more.

Her thumb brushes over your cheek, just barely passing the corner of your lips, foregoing an actual response. The twitch of a smile against her skin has her heart racing, her own light smile fading. Melissa’s mind pushes the casualness to the forefront of her mind, how you are so at ease in this undoubtedly chaotic environment. A sip of her wine replaces the instinct to rip her hand away from you, cross her legs and leave you suddenly without a place to rest.

Take you, Joseph Vincent Peterson

“Why does this credentialing shit have to be so intense? I mean, seriously, didn’t I just fucking do six years of schooling and another two, two, of assisting,” Melissa loudly complains as she goes through all her notes over the counter, “that should be proof enough, but no.”

You grab her tensing hand from across the table, ceasing your organizing of notes by topic, “honey, see how confident you are though? Means you’ll kill it, won’t even be a sweat.”

“You don’t know that,” she says dejectedly, peering back down to her elementary mathematics notes.

“I do,” you say, standing from your seat to round the table and stand behind her. Slowly, you wrap your arms around her, reaching for her balled hands, and leaning to rest your chin on her shoulder, “I know these things. You got this in the bag, pretty.”

Taking a deep breath with closed eyes, Melissa relaxes against you as a lingering kiss is pressed to her cheek. Turning slightly to face you, she presses her own lips to the corner of yours in silent thanks. You suck in a tight breath, she rarely ever allows herself to be so affectionate, even a kiss on the cheek is a rare occurrence. Sure, Melissa is a hugger, with only a select few, but this is so different. Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you are grateful her eyes are back on the notebook and she can’t see the dumbfounded look on your face.

You give her another half hour to obsess over words on a page before convincing her to call it a night, not even you can bear another moment looking at any of this. Admitting defeat, she lets you guide her to the couch, melting into the plastic lining. Melissa watches as you take your place against the arm of the couch, legs crossed in front of you while you flip through channels.

It takes less than ten minutes for the redhead to slowly start scooting closer, creaking plastic making her movements unstealthy. Taking the hint, you uncross your legs to make room for her and open your arms in quiet invitation. Unlike her previous shifting, Melissa nearly pounces into your arms, taking residence against your chest. One hand goes to her hair, scratching her scalp, the other rests on her arm, massaging the muscle.

It’s hard to tell when, or even if, Melissa is asleep on you. Her lack of talking or the slightest movement leads you to believe she’s dead to the world. Only a small whisper of caution passes your mind as your lips press to her crown, lingering there longer than you should. Snuggling into you, the redhead suppresses the smile of utter peace that begs to cross her wine-stained lips.

To have and to hold

Movie nights are always some of your favorite times with Melissa, struggling on a puzzle that you swore you could do. When you were sober. Now, the border still remains incomplete as your attentions divert to the TV when dramatic music begins playing. Admittedly, you aren’t really watching the movie to begin with, but Melissa seems to be so engrossed she hasn’t realized she’s still fidgeting with the same piece.

Aiming for her hand, you flick a puzzle piece into her lap to get her attention. Peeking up over the frames of her glasses, Melissa looks at you quizzically. Gesturing to the puzzle, you look back to her in silent question. She answers in a shrug, moving in tandem with you as you sit up to sit on the couch. A little grin grows as she realizes that she’d get to take her typical spot, but she has something else in mind.

Rushing ahead, she takes your usual spot against the arm of the couch, legs open to make space for your body and arms stretched out in invitation. Without question, you take your place, tucking your face into her neck as her arms wrap around you. Melissa is so warm, so warm that you feel like a cat on a sunspot, settling into her as her breathing calms your heartbeat.

Something switches in your mind, a sense of bravery fills you, and you press your lips to Melissa’s neck gently, lingering against soft skin. You try to pull away, but a hand on the back of your head keeps you in place, and you’re quick to oblige. Lazy, wet kisses glide across blushing skin, never harsh, not one mark left, just simple adoration.

Frayed whimpers leave her as you find a particularly sensitive spot, just below a freckle on the underside of her soft jaw. You can’t help but smile against her at the sound, instantly becoming your mission in life to hear it again and again. Trailing downwards, you stop at her clavicle, allowing your teeth to graze the bone, relishing in her breath hitching. She is chrysanthemum and mirth personified.

Wanting hands pull you up to her lips, and you stay hovering, barely a space between you. Noses brush, nails dig into your neck, hearts rapid. You feel you should tell her before you go any further.

“I love you,” it’s merely a whisper into the miniscule space, but it makes her hands pull you down to her lips. All teeth, all tongue, all need, but she doesn’t match your words.

For better, or for worse

Arm-in-arm, you and Melissa brave the harsh wind of the Philly night weather. She hadn’t believed you, and now she’s proven wrong, of course she passed her credentialing exam with nearly perfect scores. You’ve always told her how you have enough faith in her for the two of you.

Whiskey sours brought you together, at this very bar, having seen each other drinking one after finals junior year, and whiskey sours were how you celebrate every occasion. Ever since then, she has stolen the maraschino cherries from your glass with a grin, always pretending she didn’t.

Three drinks in, Melissa sweet talks you on to the dancefloor. With little room from the sea of people, she stays pressed against you, hands gripping at your sides. As the music slows, she slides her hands up to your neck, looking into you with something you can’t place, but you don’t complain. She’s a heavenly being, especially under the color-shifting lights and strobes. Green irises flick from your lips to your eyes, and there’s something in them that makes you desperately need to kiss her. Fluttering lashes quicken as she catches herself, stepping back before you can think of acting.

Just as much as she seems to not notice the pattern, you pretend not to.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” she shouts over the music, refusing to make eye contact. You manage a nod, watching her disappear into the crowd of drunk dancers. Carefully, you weave through the crowd to the bathrooms, needing a moment to breathe air without sweat mixed in.

After an embarrassing amount of recovery time, and a hit off a pipe offered by a kind stranger, you make your way back out to the bar, scanning for familiar red hair. Spotting her, no longer near the bar, but off to the side with a man. Melissa’s wearing her go on, get me a free drink smile, teeth just barely digging into her bottom lip, and he seems to be perfectly happy to do so. And you let him, cozying up to the bar to order a double to nurse.

Against your better judgment, you periodically check on Melissa and this mystery man. At first, her hands are to herself, and impressively, so are his. A few sips later, and her weight rests on the hand on his leg, leaning into his space with hooded eyes. Bile rises in your throat. You want to leave, but you came together, leaving her isn’t an option, not that it ever has been. When you check again, the man’s hand is cradling her face, and Melissa’s eyes flick to yours briefly.

She wishes she didn’t see the way your lips pursed, forcibly hiding a frown. In an effort to displace this feeling she can’t describe bubbling in her chest, she lets Joe kiss her, rough and wanting. Melissa kisses him back, lets his hands roam, nods when he mumbles to ask to take her home. With an arm around her waist, she walks with him as he walks her out.

Passing by you, she asks him to wait and sidles up next to you, “I’m- uh- I’m going home with Joe. You good to get home?”

“Yeah, love walking” you reply shortly, “just text me the address, so I know the secondary location.”

Melissa gives you an unimpressed look, “not funny. If I need a ride out of there, can I count on you?”

Looking her directly in the eye, you respond, “you can always count on me.”

Joe drives her home the next morning, with a hand on her thigh that makes her skin crawl, but she lets him. When he asks if he can see her again, she tells him she’ll let him know, and he seems to take it in stride. Stepping inside, taking her shoes off, making coffee, she’s fine. But the moment Melissa sits on the couch, a dark, twisted feeling crawls up her back and into her chest at the thought of seeing you later. The inevitable conversation you’ll have makes her feel sick, almost feeling as if she has to hide it despite you knowing. 

For richer, or for poorer

It almost feels too good to be real. Here in Melissa’s room, fan blowing, radio playing some classic rock station, on top of her comforter, pressed against her. Her lips dominate yours, tongue stroking yours for another taste of the cherry cola you’d been drinking when you got here, currently going flat on her nightstand. Greedy hands hold your shirt, refusing to let you move, needing you right where she has you.

Some days, she reveled in your attention so much that she would let herself turn her head when you went to kiss the corner of her lips. It always leads here, with her lips on yours, though she particularly loves it when it travels to her room. Your hands on her hips, fingers just barely dipping under her shirt, only the softest of touches. Always so gentle with her, your touch was never anything more than featherlike, especially so in moments like this.

Needing air, Melissa cups one side of your jaw and travels down your chin, to your jaw, to your neck, open mouth kisses littering your skin on the other. Shaky pants pass your lips, spurring her on further, mumbling baby as her teeth nip at the unmarked expanse of your neck. The hand in her hair only scratches her scalp, as it had before, but the slower ministrations match your deep breaths at every pass of her tongue. A thought passes her mind, one that freezes her from head to toe. Melissa needs you like this forever.

Feeling the lack of lips on you, your eyes peek down to Melissa’s paling face. Warmth leaves you as she pulls away, rolling from her side to lay on her back, face fear stricken. Taking the hint, you don’t touch her, just propping yourself up on your elbow against her pillow, “you okay, baby?”

You watch her take a few deep breaths, keeping your eyes on her saints, “I’m fine.”

“I can-” You take a breath yourself, “I can go, if that’s what you need.” Her short tone was making you squirrely, and her eyes forcibly ignoring you wasn’t helping the case.

“You don’t have to go. I said I’m fine,” she realizes her own tone, “I just… I just need a minute.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, rolling off the bed, “I’ll go put something on for dinner… you can take over when you’re done with your minute.” Melissa only looks at the door once you leave, face crumpling as she tries to push tears back. 

She doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you, she doesn’t. She doesn’t, she doesn’t, she can’t. Not when you hold her hand to not lose her in crowds, not when you fix her hair before getting out of the car, not even when she caves the moment your lips brush hers. It’s hard to deny the way her heart clenches when you forgo her name, always baby or pretty. It’s easier to say she loves you when she reminds herself you’re her friend.

In sickness and in health

Joseph ‘but call me Joe’ is a major pain in your ass. After three months of having his number, of not mentioning him, she texted him to invite him to the bar with you and your friends. Not once did she mention him coming, yet here he stands in a navy auto-body shop t-shirt. Their previous, singular night together clearly gives him this gnarly confidence, arm around Melissa’s waist and a hand just above her ass.

Your fingers burn from your biting, wishing you could throw the glass in your hand at him. He dares touch her in front of you, and she dares to let him. Each forceful placement of your glass back on the table makes green eyes flick to you, but they dart away before you can look back. Melissa wishes that the permanent frown on your face didn’t make her so upset.

Instead all she feels is acid in her throat, guilt and self-disgust making her squirm under Joe’s touch. Joe. She entirely forgot his presence until his hand slid into her back pocket. Peeking up, she notices that his eyes are not on her or the people talking, but on you, a hard look in his eyes. Acid bubbles, angered that he dares to look at you with such contempt.

Melissa nudges him with her hip to get his attention, cocking her head towards you in silent question. Joe leans into her, “your friend looks at me like I’m breaking a rule touching you.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to give the ugly eye. They’re just looking out for me,” she mutters, taking a sip of the amaretto sour he ordered her. It’s God awful, but she deserves as much in her mind.

Joe just gruffs a laugh, “looking out for you or jealous?” He takes her silence as not understanding, “when you’re not getting goo-goo eyes, I’m getting death rays.”

She won’t dignify an answer, hoping he’ll just take it as processing. Melissa knows, oh, she knows how you care for her, how you do more than just that. How you love her. It makes her feel ill, when it’s so clearly swirling in your eyes. The fact that others know, both her family and not, how they push her towards you, it’s terrifying.

Her mother adores you, always asking if you’re coming to dinner, begging for your presence at every dinner after the second one you attended. Kristin Marie jokes with you, not just insults, even asks your advice on things. Annette calls you Melissa’s other half, and when she gets a stony jade glare, it’s only because you two go everywhere together.

As if she knows it’s on her, she meets your gaze from across the table. Her mouth opens to speak to you, but a hand tugs her chin to the left, and Joe presses a rough kiss to her petallike lips. It’s a dare, a dare to cross him, a dare to even look at Melissa, a dare to take what he claims as his.

Forty horrible minutes pass, and on her way back from the restroom, Melissa scans the room. Everyone was right where she left them, chatting through mouthfuls of chips, except for you. Your spot had been filled in by the others, empty glass still sitting on the coaster. Over his shoulder, Joe gives her a grin, sated, waving his hand to get her closer.

Her hands scramble through her purse the second she’s seated, digging for her phone in hopes of a text from you. A single notification sits on her screen.

To anyone else, to Joe rudely peering over her shoulder to read the message, it would seem normal. However, Melissa knows better. There’s no heart at the end, no little ‘love you,’ probably written after you’d already started your journey. Just simply got tired, walking home.

In irritation, definitely not to shovel away guilt, she lets Joe kiss her again at the end of the night, after she downed another amaretto. Even lets him take her home, though he tried taking it back to hers, but to have him in a bed you have lied in? Unthinkable.

Joe’s kisses are as rough as his hands on her, just short of hurting when he grabs at her breasts. His voice is gruff as he offers to drive her home, despite her not feeling anything close to pleasure, close to some sort of good. It’s divine punishment, it seems.

To love and cherish

Melissa misses you. You are right next to her on the couch, yet she misses you. She’s grown too used to the comfort of laying against your chest, having your arms wrapped around her as you watch whatever movie she decides on. It’s ridiculous, truly. She’s with Joe, she shouldn’t be seeking comfort from anyone else, but her ear longs to be above your beating heart.

You’re still pressed against the arm of the couch, though you stay balled up and keep unblinking attention on the screen. The thought passes her mind to simply scoot up next to you, but it’s unwise with the mood you’re in. Since she called you and said Joe officially asked her to be his girlfriend, you’ve entirely pulled back. Not so much as a kiss on her cheek in six months. Melissa feels like she’s in the thick of withdrawal. 

Green eyes feel like crosshairs as you feel them scope your body, attempting to read your displeasure without asking. Truthfully, you want to be here with her, but the clock on your time goes down with each second that gets closer to Joe arriving for their date night. In effort to not cause a fight, you’ve kept away, always leaving before he gets there so as to not be forced to talk. Joseph gets a lot of joy in reminding you he’s there to see his girlfriend.

“What?” You speak into the open air, not bothering to peek at a staring Melissa.

“You’re quiet,” the redhead offers cautiously. She’s seen your bad side, but she’s never been on it. Silence from you is a sort of weapon.

You sigh, “I don’t have anything to say.” More like you don’t have anything good to say.

“You’ve got plenty, or else you wouldn’t be quiet. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Her hand comes to stroke your hair, an attempt to smother the fire, but you duck away from her touch, finally looking at her.

“Just drop it, Melissa. You don’t wanna hear it,” you look back at the TV. It’s the most honest you want to be with her.

The calm demeanor drops, “and how do you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell! Me!”

“You! You are what’s wrong!” You shout as you turn to face her, brows furrowed and nostrils flaring. “You kiss me! You touch me! You tell me you care about me! You hate every woman that gets within ten yards of me, who dares show interest in me. For what?” Melissa is in shocked silence, not answering. “Because you can’t stand that they want me, that I could want them too? Because I could maybe, just maybe, have feelings for someone that isn’t you?”

“That’s not-”

A bitter laugh leaves you, “have you ever stopped to think about what you’re doing to me when you kiss me, let me kiss you, and then just start sleeping with some guy? How do you tell me you care about me more than anything and then kiss him in front of me? I have never hidden how much I love you Melissa, not once, and you rub it in my face?”

Standing from the couch, you try to create distance as you pace with your hands on your hips. You can’t even look at her, knowing the hurt look on her face will break you. You’ll say it’s all fine when it isn’t. This dam cannot be patched. She tries to hide it, but you hear her sniffle as she stands to be level with you.

Her arms cross to create a proactive barrier, “you are the one that just assumes it’s all about you. Joe is a good guy, he cares about me, loves me. He tells me, he tells his friends.”

“And do you care about him? Love him too?”

Melissa’s eyes widen, “I… I could.”

“You could?” It’s almost a laugh. “You sound real confident in that ability. Let me know how that goes.”

The red she sees matches her hair, “and what have you done? Sit and wallow.”

“Oh, sorry, were the many times I said ‘I love you, Melissa’ not clear enough? Or were you just purposefully pretending to hear ‘you’re my bestest platonic pal’?”

“How was I supposed to know what that meant?!”

Your stills, a sudden calm coming over you as you realize the lost cause, “be so fucking rea- you know what? I’m done.” Stepping around her, you go to the door to put on your shoes, feeling like there’s glass coating the soles.

“You’re-”

“Going home,” you say standing, “I can’t do this anymore. At this point, I’m just torturing myself.” There’s no pause before opening the door.

“Please, don’t leave,” Melissa’s voice cracks.

You can’t face her, “I love you. But I can’t say I feel the same about the idea of you only loving me when others aren’t around.”

“I love you, I do. Just, please don’t go.” The door slams in Melissa’s face.

Eyes stay on the driveway as you leave, immediately pulling into your spot, Joe.

Until we death to us part

A surprise dinner for their one year anniversary might just be the most romantic thing Joe has done for Melissa the entirety of their relationship. He called her to tell her to dress to the nines, well maybe the sevens, which made her laugh, quick to hang up to start curling her hair. As she sections her hair, she wonders what kind of restaurant, which cuisine, silently praying that it’s not Italian.

Leaning against his truck, Joe lays on the horn to alert her of his presence, climbing into the cabin as Melissa steps outside. When she gets in herself, Melissa does a once over of his clothing for the evening, hoping to not find an oil stain that seems to be on every single shirt the man owned. None. Not even a mark of too-much-bleach to get rid of an old stain. Collar pressed, not a wrinkle in sight. Joseph bought a new shirt, just for tonight.

“You look handsome,” she says, leaning against the middle console to press her lip to his cheek.

Wiping her gloss from his face, through a cocky grin he says, “thought I should clean up.”

Metallica plays on the radio, no other conversation is even attempted before he pulls into the parking lot of Yamitsuki. Joe’s already a quarter of the way to the door by the time Melissa gets out of the truck, carefully dropping to the pavement in her heels. At least it’s not Italian, at least it’s not Italian.

In hopes to get and keep his attention, her arm wraps around his when he reaches him at the host stand. When the host seats them, Joe yanks his arm from Melissa’s to get in the booth across from her. The redhead sits silently, letting the man order her drink and the appetizer he wants. When he reorders his beer, wanting an American brew, she mentally steps back. Nodding and humming seems to get her through most of these conversations.

A loud laugh from the hibachi station captures both hers and Joe’s attention, though he seems more interested in the puffs of fire coming from the grill. The woman laughing grips the counter as she tries to catch her breath, her date, facing away from Melissa, is shaking with laughter as they rub the woman’s arm. Silver catches the light, and green eyes are drawn to the rings on the date’s hand. A wide silver band, only one constellation engraved into the metal. She doesn’t have to look closer. She knows it’s Taurus, she knows it’s hers.

Tempura, onigiri, even her beloved donburi, they all taste like straw as her mind rotates her constellation brushing against someone new. Melissa doesn’t even have in her to frown when Joe slams his glass on the table to get the attention of the server as they rush past with trays. Peeking away from the adult tantrum over a Budweiser, her eyes go back to the grill.

God, she wishes she hadn’t. Talking kindly to the cook, she gets a view of your profile. Warm lighting makes you glow, the easy smile on your lips makes her heart clench. You’re here, with this woman, and you’re happy. You’re without her and you’re happy. Her grip in the table cloth tightens, pulling everything her way.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asks with a mouthful of noodles. Her eyes snap to him, brows furrowed in confusion, “your face, you look upset. Is it the food?”

She finds it in herself to smile a little, “I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.”

He doesn’t believe her, so in true Joe-fashion, he talks about everything and nothing to move her attention away from whatever’s bothering her. It would be annoying if it wasn’t a tad endearing.

A silent prayer goes to all deities above when she walks into the empty restroom, Melissa also locks the door to ensure the privacy stays. The ringed fingers gripping her lungs let go, and for the first time since she walked in the restaurant, she can finally take a deep breath. Leaning on her hands against the counter, Melissa looks at herself in the mirror. Time to put your big girl pants on, Schemmenti.

Turning on the sink, Melissa runs her hands under the cold water to cool down, the splotchy red on her chest finally dissipating. Shaking the water from her hands, she nods to herself. Turning on her heel, she forces her shoulders back, spine straight, totally fine. Stepping back into the hall, she immediately collides with another person.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” a familiar voice says as hands hold onto Melissa’s elbows to stop her sway. Long lashes flutter around wide eyes as she only stares, watching your eyes fly from where your hand rests on her arm to her face. Your eyes quickly widen as your hands pull away, though they harden swiftly, concern becoming stone. “Sorry,” is all you mumble before turning away from her, giving up on your journey to the restrooms.

What possesses her, she doesn’t know, but she follows you. Grabbing your arm, she tugs you in the restroom she had just left, locking the door behind her, she leans against it as you just stare at her. The unblinking glare you give is something she hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of, but it feels as awful as she assumed.

“Nothing?”

Your jaw drops a little, and you let out a sharp, breathy laugh, “nothing? Nothing what? Was I supposed to faint?”

“Was maybe thinking you wouldn’t just walk past me when I haven’t seen you in six months.”

“And why’s that?” At her lack of answer, your head tilts, “did you want me to stay behind glass to break in case of sudden realization?”

“Sudden realization?” It could be better to play dumb.

Biting your cheek, you look at the ceiling before you speak, “yes. Sudden realization. Maybe realize that kissing me, wanting me to kiss you, it’s pretty gay. Very gay, actually, in my professional opinion.”

“I’m not gay,” Melissa mumbles, twiddling with her fingers. Maybe playing dumb wasn’t the move.

You nod slowly, “right.”

“I’m not. I love Joe, we’re here for our anniversary. I’m not gay.”

Closing your eyes, you exhale deeply, “glad that’s settled. Can you stop holding me hostage?”

Melissa can feel the weight of your words. You’re not just a hostage of this room. You’ve been perpetually held hostage by your feelings for her, imprisoned for years and years, with never getting the love you bore in return. She tries to step closer to you, but you move at the same time, pivoting around her and unlocking the door. Your name leaving her lips in a cracked voice makes you halt, but the simmering fire in your chest refuses to let you soften.

“Let me go, Melissa. Should be easy, since, you know, you don’t love me, not really.”

“B-” The door shuts in her face again.

This is my solemn vow.

—☽—

Melissa wakes with a jolt, beads of sweat gliding down her spine. Heaving breaths constrict her chest and she drops her head into her hands in an attempt to focus and calm herself. The tight feeling in her chest dissipates as a final deep breath leaves her lungs, face cooling and heart slowing. Lifting her head from her hands, she peers to the right to make sure she hadn’t woken Joe.

Perhaps she would have, had he been there.

Joe was only ever home maybe two nights a week, always ‘working late’ and coming home well rested the next morning. Nina was getting most of his time these days, all his attention, love, and acknowledgement. It was getting hard to keep track of the times he’d almost called her Ni instead of Mel, after it hit double digits, she didn’t care anymore. It was clear now, more than ever, that she was his wife in nothing but name.

Only in her dreams does she get a level of peace, the smell of patchouli and spearmint comforting her in the haze of sleep. Oversized knit sweaters and denim brush her skin in this personal Eden, but the morning sun brings her to gasoline and another woman’s perfume. 

A part of her, deep in the back of her mind, screams, and it has only gotten louder over the last ten years. The voice screams, bordering on blood-curdling, telling her how much she hates him, how much she doesn’t love him, how much she regrets him. Every morning she wakes with him gone, the more she listens to that little voice. Every time she smells Chanel on the Eagles jacket she bought for their five year anniversary, the voice gets a little louder.

The voice warps and becomes familiar as Melissa stares blankly at the empty space beside her. You could? Let me know how that goes. If you were able to see her now, you’d be giving her that raised brow, biting your inner lip to keep from saying something she probably didn’t want to hear. In this moment, she would do anything to hear what you’d say, even if she may cry, even if she doesn’t know where you are.

With her mind running a mile a minute, she was unable to will herself back into sleep, giving up to make coffee instead. As if the universe wanted to mock her, the door quietly opens and closes, careful footsteps walking through the living room before the pause in the doorway to the kitchen. Joe and Melissa just stare at each other blankly, silence permeating their existence in these four walls. Without another word, she just pours him a cup of coffee, spooning in a little sugar before sliding it towards him.

Joseph, to his credit, reads that something is wrong, terribly wrong. There’s no anger on Melissa’s face, not even a twinge of sadness. The few times she was awake when he got home, she wouldn’t even look at him, just frown, but now, nothing. Sipping his coffee, he accepts the fate that comes at him like a fastball.

Before he even fully sits down across from her, she speaks without breaking eye contact, “I want a divorce.”

Joe did not argue, he’d seen this long coming. He saw it when they told her parents they were engaged, how Annette had to purse her lips, Kristin Marie taking her sister aside to talk privately. He loved Melissa, for a time, but he knew she loved the non-existent obligation to him, and he drifted. Regrets of his behavior disappeared the less Melissa seemed to care. Their positions were identical; he is only her husband in name.

By the end of March, he was fully moved out and placing his key in the palm of her hand. Pausing his steps, he turns back to Melissa, pressing a short kiss to her cheek, “I hope you find what you need.”

July is Melissa’s favorite month. No school starting or ending, no prep days just yet, not even a single manilla folder on the coffee table. Just Melissa, Cabernet, and the sunlight. She felt content under the sun, warming her skin and making the freckles across her chest and shoulders bloom. When Barbara invited her to the beach, she almost said no, until the mention of a private beach hut and bottomless margaritas.

By the second marg, the cackles coming from the hut could be heard from the waterfront, not that the two women cared. The third, and beginning of the fourth, the conversation went from silly to serious, both women speaking in not-so-hushed voices.

“He just didn’t care. I said I wanted a divorce, and all I got was okay. Was expecting some sort of fight,” Melissa says as she plays with the pink umbrella in her drink.

Barbara’s head drops to the side, “to be fair, dear, you weren’t really in it anymore either. You can’t seriously think he couldn’t pick up on that.”

“Wasn’t expecting a screaming match or anything, just a talk. I tried making it work, he’s the one who was out and about with Nina.”

“Melissa Ann,” Barbara starts, “you have been mentally checked out of that marriage before you even walked down the aisle. I’ve known you seven years, and I’m sorry, but it’s been clear you didn’t love him anymore. If you ever did.”

The redhead stares at Barbara with a heavy look, “what do you mean by that?”

“I’d like to think I know you well. And knowing you means I see you, see you as you are. That man, any man, is not what you long for.” Putting her drink on the table, Barbara reaches over to grab Melissa’s hand, squeezing it lovingly, “you look more in love in those university photos that you do in your wedding ones.”

Melissa fiddles with her fingers, “I’ll never have that back, I’m too late. It’s too late.”

“It’s not. Not too late to give yourself the space to see yourself, to find who makes you happy,” she reassures her friend. The tears threatening to spill from Melissa’s eyes make her tug her in for a hug, “you will be okay. And you won’t be alone.”

—☽—

Elaine stands from the table slowly, avoiding Melissa’s eyes as she mumbles a bye and leaves the bar. Six months down the drain, all because Melissa wasn’t ready to move in, just barely having given the woman the code to the door so she could let herself in. She’d called Melissa scared and a child, but what hurt the most, a coward. The redhead didn’t even dignify her with a real response, just saying if you’re done, then go. I won’t stop you.

Sipping the last of her drink, Melissa pays the tab for her vodka soda and the cosmopolitan Elaine had, telling the bartender to keep the change as she leaves to walk home. Walking the three miles home wasn’t going to be fun, but she could maybe clear her head, definitely get tired enough to fall asleep on the couch.

Ten minutes into her journey, a voice from nearby was calling out, catching Melissa’s attention immediately.

“Bosco! C’mon, inside time!” The laugh that follows stops Melissa in her tracks, another call of Bosco has her walking quickly to find the source. Under a streetlight, she pauses.

Across the street, in a little fenced yard, was a Brittany spaniel doing laps around the yard, darting and dashing away from the owner. Giggles filled the yard as the dog and owner seemingly played tag, the collar jingling in tandem with the laughter. Green eyes trail away from Bosco. You.

You look the same you had the last she saw you, apart from your hair being longer, smile lines a little deeper. Melissa can’t help it, eyes going to your hands, scanning for rings she doesn’t find. No wedding band, but especially, no constellation. Had you gotten married and divorced like her? Were you just the kind to not wear your ring? She doesn’t think so. Are you happy? You look happy, she hopes you’re happy. How long have you been here? Only two miles from her? Last she knew, you left Philly to no-one-would-tell-her-where.

She watches you stop running, hands on your knees as you speak breathily, “alright, for real. Inside time, Bosco baby!” Tears spring to her eyes as your grin grows, watching your dog gallop towards you and almost knock you over. “Oh, you’re excited to watch Living Single, huh? Let’s go.” Melissa watches Bosco trot next to you as you disappear behind the door, from her.

A watery smile crosses her lips, you were still watching the show you watched together nearly every night. Melissa still remembers the nights where you would play with her hair, twirling it around your fingers as she sunk into your chest, pressing soft kisses to her head as you giggled at something Khadijah said to Max. Those nights were her only sense of comfort, and for years, the mere memory would make her heart quake.

Pressing on, she keeps on her way home. Instead of falling asleep when she finally gets to her couch, Melissa turns on Living Single and curls against the arm of the couch, nudging her nose into plastic-wrapped fabric. She can almost smell the incense and mint gum.

For the next couple of weeks, Melisa takes it upon herself to go on more walks. Walks to the deli, to the bar, to the coffee shop, even to the park. Occasionally, there are days where she takes the longer path, one that passes the fenced yard of a brick building. To her dismay, she has yet to see you. Part of her panics, thinking that you may have seen her and were avoiding being seen. The rational part reminds her that you have a life. Luck just seems to be running low.

On a chilly Thursday, however, she stares at her feet to keep the wind from making tears and smudging her eyeliner. The clacking of steps on the pavement and jingling of a collar brings her eyes up, a familiar spaniel practically tugging against the blue leash. Bosco looks at Melissa’s still form, and starts pulling harder, trying desperately to meet a new friend.

“BoBo,” you almost whine, looking up from the grocery list on your phone, “hell you doing bud-”

Stopping in your tracks, your arm jerks as your dog pulls, but you stay in place. Wide eyes meet, and all either of you can do is stare. With a huff, Bosco pulls again, forcing you closer to Melissa. Nudging her hand, he begs to be pet, forcing her hand on top of his head.

You swallow the lump in your throat, speaking quietly, “you can pet him.”

Wordlessly, without taking her eyes off of you, her nails scratch gently at the dog’s head. Your own eyes flick around her face, only quickly dipping to where her hand pets Bosco. No ring. Shaking your head, you look back up.

“Melissa,” you say with a little nod. The corner of her lips turns up at hearing her name from you. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good…” She clears her throat, “how are you?”

“Yeah, good. You still teaching?”

A little smile stretches across her face, “second grade, over at Abbott in West. Eleven years, almost, now.”

“That’s nice, Abbott’s nice. Micah’s daughter’s starting there next year,” you say, fidgeting with the leash in your hands.

A surprised laugh leaves her, “Micah’s got a kid? Jesus…”

“I know,” you chuckle, “the man who still ties his shoes with bunny ears.”

Bosco takes the second of silence to hop up on Melissa, front paws going to her chest as he tries to sniff and lick her face. The motion shocks Melissa, who only manages a little oof! You’re quick to move, stepping close to hold under his arms and gently pull him back towards you, still hopping and trying to get to Melissa.

“Dude, what the hell?” You say, looking down at your dog, before quickly going back to Melissa, “I’m sorry about him. New people are apparently chew toys to him.”

“It’s okay,” she replies with a smile, she’s more than okay right now. Entirely stunned by the newfound closeness, the time passing around only really hits her as a car honks at a bicycle in the street, insecurity crawling in. Clearing her throat, she adds, “I- uh- it was nice seeing you.”

The little smile falls from your lips, “oh… Okay, yeah. Nice seeing you, Mel. Sure I’ll see you around.” With a little frown, you gently tug Bosco’s leash, him immediately walking with you.

Melissa turns quickly and starts to follow you, almost running to catch up. “Wait, wait. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean go, I just- it is nice to see you,” she speaks through little pants. “Would you wanna get coffee or a drink sometime? Catch up? Only if you want to,” she rushes the last part, trying not to seem as desperate as she is.

And there it is. The little grin she loved so much, had missed so much. You try to suppress it, but it’s entirely impossible. “Whiskey sours?”

—☽—

Whiskey sours. Coffee. Meeting at Wawa for lunch. Diner pancakes for supper. It was small, and then it was damn near every day for weeks on end. Time had taken the anger she had last seen in you, replaced with sheer nerves, and now comfort once again. Melissa slowly gives in and shares little things, trying to gain your trust. The lack of any Joe-mention was telling enough, as if no ring wasn’t practically shouting. To be subtle or to not be subtle, that is the question. But this is Melissa Ann Caterna Schemmenti.

“Random question.”

“Potential random answer,” you reply through a bite of your burrito.

Melissa mulls over her words, “is six months together not stupid soon to move in with someone? My ex called me a child for saying no fucking way.”

“Personally, yeah. Knowing you, even bigger yeah. Clearly didn’t know you well enough to be moving in with you.”

Melissa nods as she wipes her lips with a napkin, “no, she clearly did not.”

The pause of your chewing only lasts a brief moment before you look up, “her loss.” There’s no hiding the blush that covers Melissa’s face.

Through lunch, and the subsequent walk to finish the never ending conversation, neither of you really want to leave the other. Every topic carries to another, nearly twelve years apart coming undone the closer you sit. You fumble through inviting her over, with the mention of thinking you have the ingredients for sours, as if you hadn’t bought everything the night before.

Late into the night, with the TV low and Bosco curled in his bed, you rest against the arm of the couch. Melissa keeps her legs tucked to her chest, chin resting on her knees as her eyes struggle to focus on the screen. Sitting here with you, it’s so hard to not want to be held by you, it feels almost second nature. The churning in her mind makes her entirely unaware of the attention on her.

Shifting, you rest your back against the arm, putting one foot down on the floor. A socked foot pokes Melissa, making her jump slightly. Prehnite eyes flick towards you, quickly scanning over your position. She bites her inner cheek, eyes meeting yours in silent question. The answer she receives is a weak attempt to reach for her, too lazy to say anything.

Lightning quick, Melissa lays on top of you, taking her place in the warmth of your neck. Your arms wrap around her snuggly, holding her as if she would disappear. She feels your nose nudge her hair, a little movement against her forehead feels like a smile, one that matches her own. Gently, with a butterfly's touch, Melissa pressing a short kiss to the column of your throat before resting again.

She loves you. She does, she does, she can.

i’ve got a doctorate in projecting

if you’re looking for a longer form of a similar concept then please, if u haven’t, read the entwined series by @lot-of-nothing it is INCREDIBLE i’m speechless

feedback appreciated as always <3

[stargirlinterludefr]

GOOD LUCK, BABE!: sarah cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: you and sarah are were best friends, she said she wanted to experiment and while she’s everything to you, you’re just an experiment to her. Maybe she was in denial but she realises too late that whatever the two of you had wasn’t ‘nothing’ and she’s forced to stand face to face with i told you so.

TW: hints of homophobia, internalised homophobia, discussion of comphet, drug usage, alcohol consumption, angst, topper, ward actually being a good dad for once, use of y/n, jj being brutally honest

NOTES: sarah is a lesbian in this fic but she struggles heavily with comphet (compulsory heterosexuality) and similar to the song, gets with a man because she can’t accept her sexuality. I have been in the readers situation so writing from experience I suppose.

word count: around 3,010

Driving at sunset in the outer banks is a serene experience, the way the colours dance across the sky and eventually blend into the horizon when you look out upon the sea.

Driving at sunset in the outer banks had always been one of yours and your best friend Sarah’s favourite things to do together, the way you’d drive and she’d stand up through the sun roof of the car, arms our like some kind of angel.

How could you not fall for her?

You were fine with your one sided feelings, truly you were, Sarah was your best friend and you’d already had the conversation about how you didn’t feel anything for her when you eventually came out to her. A big lie, of course, but you just didn’t want to lose her.

So, driving at sunset in the outer banks with the girl you love silently may be foolish to others but it’s a serene kind of peace you’d never want to exchange.

Driving on the same route as usual, you wait for Sarah’s usual routine of pressing on some random Taylor Swift song and standing through the sunroof of her car, but she remains sat in the passenger seat with a mindful expression etched onto her features.

“You okay, Sare?” You ask, taking your eyes off of the desolate road for a moment to glance at her as she hums in response.

“Me? Yeah, ‘course.” She mumbles and you know it’s not true which is why at the next turning that leads to an open space to park, you pull the car over so you can give her your full attention.

“Okay, fess up, you’ve been staring out of the window like you’re contemplating throwing yourself out of the car ever since we got into it.” You say, a slight tease to your tone to help lift her spirits but she simply offers a small smile.

“I want to ask you something…and I-I want you to keep an open mind, okay?” She says after a moments silence and you’re quick to nod, studying the side of her face intently as you wait for whatever thoughts have been bothering her.

“So, you know how you’re gay?” The words have you choking on a breath, eyes widening as you let out a laugh but by the serious look on her face you quickly simmer down.

“Uh yeah, that is uh what I am, big lover of women…why?” You say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck as Sarah fully turns to look at you now.

“I’ve been thinking that…I might want to like, you know, experiment…” she mumbles and you have to hold your breath to prevent you from choking on it again, “With uh girls…and since your my best friend and the only openly lesbian person I know I thought that maybe I’d…ask you.”

You both stare at eachother for a second, your mind is scrambling and reeling for a response as Sarah’s face becomes increasingly more red.

“I-it’s stupid I know but-“ She starts but you quickly cut her off.

“No, it’s not stupid I uh…I’d be- I mean sure, I’m happy you trust me enough to come to me about this.” You say, clearing your throat as you finish, you know deep down that this is only going to end in tears but if this is the one chance you get to love her without hiding it as much, you don’t want to give it up.

Sarah smiles as she nods in relief, “Yeah? I mean, it obviously won’t mean anything like feelings wise because we’re best friends it’s just like…friends with benefits?” She says and you hate the way your stomach drops slightly but you hide it from her, smiling as you nod.

“Yeah…sure.”

-

One month into yours and Sarah’s ‘nothing’ situation has you realising it isn’t really nothing. Sarah likes to say the two of you are nothing, pointing out she’s merely trying out new things and in turn your getting a good lay.

But the two of you clearly aren’t ‘nothing’ and that becomes increasingly obvious when one of the only people in the world you thought wouldn’t notice the underlying tension, did.

You know Sarah’s brother isn’t blind, he’s always been surprisingly observant and ever since he’d discovered you weren’t interested in men he’d ‘joked’ that you and Sarah would probably end up hooking up eventually.

You now also realise that he wasn’t exactly joking.

“You should call it off, y’know.” A voice sounds from behind where you’re sat on the deck chairs surrounding the large pool at Tannyhill, Sarah having gone inside to make the two of you drinks.

As you turn to see the source of the voice, you’re met with the sight of Rafe’s looming figure. Sunglasses are sat on his face so you can’t see his eyes as he looks at you but when you glance behind him briefly, you can see Sarah conversing with Topper in the kitchen.

“And you’re talking about…?” You trail off, quirking a brow at him as he snorts out a laugh and rounds your deck chair to sit on the one beside you.

“I think you know what I’m talking about, princess.” He states, lying back on his chair nonchalantly as you continue to look at him.

You swallow, you weren’t exactly afraid you and Sarah had been found out but you didn’t want to out her when she didn’t even properly know what her sexuality was yet.

Rafe continues when you remain silent, “I’m just sayin’ kid, I may be her brother but Sarah’s gonna fucking break your heart, she’s never been one to face her feelings.”

You immediately feel defensive, maybe it’s because you love her or maybe it’s because you yourself are in denial. “And you are?”

He lets out a chuckle at that, turning his head to look at you through his sunglasses “Never said I was.” Rafe states before adding, “That’s also how I know whatever it is y’all have going on, it’s gonna end badly, because like me…Sarah can’t face her feelings and she sure as shit is not gonna admit the fact that you love her.”

You don’t even have time to process his words because Sarah and Topper come walking back toward the pool, you turn back to your previous position as Rafe stares at you for a moment before he turns his head back toward the pool.

Sarah and Topper are laughing as she places your drinks on the near by table and an ugly feeling of jealousy coils in your gut as you watch the two of them, the way he stares down at her and the way she bats her eyelashes up at him.

You barely register Rafe’s mutter beside you, “So fucked.”

-

Sarah is kissing you sloppily, her legs wrapped around your waist as you hold her hips, everyone once in a while she lets out soft moans into the kiss before eventually she pulls away to check her phone that buzzes beside you.

You hate when she does that. You hate when she breaks away from you as though nothing at all is happening.

As her eyes flit over the screen you watch as she looks up at you before back down to her phone with a guilty expression,

“Topper?” You hum and she nods, climbing off of your lap and you follow her in standing up. Music is still blaring from downstairs and you feel dizzy from the way Sarah was just kissing you and the alcohol in your system.

“I’ll come find you later, yeah?” She mumbles, eyes not meeting yours before she’s gone out of the room before you can even blink.

She always does that, avoiding your gaze after the two of you had done something that branched away from ‘just friends’ because she couldn’t dare to face up to you and her own emotions.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you leave the room shortly after, slowly pushing past sweaty bodies and couples making out as you stumble down the stairs.

As you reach the bottom you come to a slow halt when your eyes latch onto something that makes your head spin.

Sarah kissing Topper. Topper kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper. Topper’s kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper? Topper’s kissing Sarah?

You feel sick, your heart beats violently in your ears and you can’t force your eyes away. You can’t do anything but stand and stare.

After a moment, Sarah’s eyes open while she and the dreaded boy continue to make out, said eyes dance over to where your stood and you think for a moment she looks guilty but before you can decipher the look…her full attention is back on Topper and you’re left looking like an absolute fool.

-

Sarah finds you around an hour later, stumbling over to where you are sat beside JJ, the two of you sharing a joint.

The Cameron girl smiles widely when she spots you, all but throwing herself to sit on your lap and your jaw ticks in annoyance which you know JJ notices immediately.

“Heyyy, I missed you.” She slurs, hands coming to tangle in your hair as she places a drunken kiss to your lips and then drags them down your neck as JJ clears his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll uh…catch you later.” He says, coming to stand and you nod your head in thanks, not missing the way his eyes all but scream that you have some serious explaining to do.

“Sarah…” You mutter, attempting to lightly draw the girl away from your neck but she doesn’t seem to budge so you pull her away with a slight bit more force and she looks at you with a pout that makes your heart stutter warmly in your chest.

“I think it’s time for-“ You begin but Sarah cuts you off.

“I’m sorry, about Top, I just…you give me all these crazy feelings and I needed them to stop.” She slurs drunkenly, hands coming to cup and squish your cheeks together. “It’s just the way I am, you’re my best friend and Topper’s like soooo sweet.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to plummet, you feel so humiliated but you know she’s drunk and you hope that she maybe remembers what she’s said in the morning but you know that won’t happen.

You gently remove her hands from your cheeks before you awkwardly pat them, “Well uh good luck with that.” You say, already knowing that whatever she was trying to do by kissing Topper was never going to work.

You knew first hand, you’d have to stop the world just to stop these feelings and that would never happen.

-

JJ Maybank was probably one of the only men on the planet you trusted whole heartedly, the boy was your best friend and you loved him like a brother.

Which is why you felt like an asshole for the way he’s looking at you right now.

“You’re tellin’ me kook prince, Rafe Cameron, knew about whatever little sexy mackin’ thing you got going on with Sarah Cameron before I did?” He says, eyebrows raised as his hands wave wildly around “Me? Your best friend, the guy who taught you how to give good head to a gir-“

“Okay! I get it, I’m sorry!” You say loudly, interrupting the route he was going, you know he’s not truly hurt that you didn’t tell him because it’s JJ.

“But seriously bro, what’re you gonna do? Because, not to ever say I agree with Cameron but, she’s totally gonna break your heart.” He rambles, taking a sip from his beer bottle as he comes to sit across from you on the dock the two of you are currently situated at, the dock at the Chateau.

“I don’t know…if it means I don’t have to lose her then maybe I’ll just keep doing it?” You say, shrugging as you watch JJ quirk a brow at you.

“First of all, that’s cliché as fuck, second of all this whole situation is not fair on you at all.” He states, gently nudging your foot with his own. “She’s usin’ you as like some sorta’ experiment and I get it’s hard to come to terms with who you are, I saw it first hand with you, but this shit ain’t fair bro…and it ain’t love.”

You don’t say anything to that, simply nodding as you swallow harshly, turning to look out at the small rippling waves of the water.

-

Sarah is sat on the sofa in the large living room of Tannyhill, eyes boring into the ceiling as she pays no mind to the show playing in the background on the tv.

The sound of her father walking in makes her turn her head and give him a small smile as he comes to sit across from her, ending the call he was on as he looks at her.

“You okay, sweetie?” Ward asks, eyes trained intently on Sarah who nibbles softly at her bottom lip.

“I- uh…yeah- I mean…I don’t know-“ She starts and before she can even get another word out, Ward is sat beside her and pulling his daughter into his arms before the tears fall down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s all gonna be okay.”

All Sarah can do is nod because she doesn’t believe that true, nothings okay with the fact that she could possibly lose you because she can’t understand why she’s feeling these things for you and she feels like her only option is to bail, because while she knows deep down you love her in a way that she’ll never understand…she also knows she’ll fuck it up.

-

Driving through the outer banks at sunset was yours and Sarah’s favourite thing to do together but now, with everything the two of you have been doing, you don’t think you can do these drives without the blinding feeling that nostalgia and Sarah give you.

You pull over similar to the time you did when Sarah brought her idea forward but on this occasion, you’re the one who can’t look at her.

“I’m gonna say something and…I just, need you to listen because…I can only gather so much strength to say it.” You croak out, not daring to look at her because you know she’s already crying and you can’t bear the fact that you could be inflicting pain on the girl you love.

“I love you Sarah…and I tried not to, I really did-“ You choke out, squeezing your eyes closed for a second before reopening them and continuing, “I think I’ve always loved you, before we even became what we are now, but this isn’t what love should be.”

You turn to her then, Sarah’s lips trembling as tears stream down her face and you fight the urge to lean over and take her into your arms.

If you did that, you’d never be able to end this.

“I know you’re confused but…I think you know, deep down, that whatever you feel toward me is real and you’re scared to acknowledge that.” You point out and Sarah lets out a shaky breath at your words.

“You’re my best friend, of course I feel things toward you-“ She attempts to say and you shake your head as you cut her off.

“We’re not just friends, Sarah.” You note, running a hand over your face as the girl beside you crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m not gay.” She says, her tone so unsure yet so confident that you almost feel guilty for some unknown reason. Guilty for what, exactly? You don’t know, maybe for ending whatever it is you had going on alongside your friendship.

“Come on Sarah-“ You try and she immediately shuts you down, eyes now more angry then they are sad which makes you feel like you physically recoil at the change.

“No, y/n! You’re not making me into something I’m not, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I have to be too!” She snaps, her words slicing through you violently as you feel a pit of shame curl up in your stomach “I experimented and now I know for sure now I’m not…whatever it is I thought I was.”

You know she’s building up to something so you close your eyes in anticipation for the blow she’s undoubtedly about to deliver.

“Besides, I’m with Topper now so...” You exhale as she says the words, as though she’d physically hit you in the stomach and winded you before you let out a light scoff.

You look to her, her eyes wide and defensive. You simply shake your head before opening the car door, “Topper,” You begin, letting out another scoff before you begin to step out of the car, “Good luck, babe.”

-

Four months after yours and Sarah’s conversation and while you haven’t heard from her, you have heard from Rafe. The Cameron man informing you that Topper and Sarah are having a very…turbulent relationship.

Rafe knows you were the one to end things with his sister, he and JJ being the only ones to actively know that something was going on between you and Sarah. With the exception of Ward who was left to guess what was plaguing his daughter’s thoughts over the last few months.

You feel a form of sympathy as the way everyone only refers to Sarah as ‘Toppers girl’ now. You know you shouldn’t be surprised at it, she never leaves his side and you realised it was her way of trying to prove to herself and to you that whatever feelings she had weren’t romantic.

You knew better and deep down so did she.

As you sit with your friends on the HMS Pogue, sailing across the water you catch sight of Topper’s boat when JJ starts geeking out over the model and price of it.

You also notice Sarah beside him, her face screaming out how unhappy she is without her even needing to say it.

And when your eyes meet hers, you see the unhappiness in her gaze. The facade she puts up and parades around under only extends to so many people and you are not one of them, you know Sarah so deeply and you also know that whatever she’s attempting to prove with Topper isn’t working for her.

And as your two boats come in line with one another, slowly passing, you mime toward the Cameron girl…words you hate to say but you do anyway,

“I told you so.”

[bvbygrl-writes]

Good Luck, Babe!

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary:

A/N: My new laptop is here! Happy Pride (from one queer to another)! I've had this idea since I heard this song and I love Pansy BADD. Based off the song Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan.

Warnings: Angst, Smut if you squint realllly hard, comphet, doesn't follow the canon story line bc I didn't include the war

(y/n)= your name

(l/n)= last name

(e/c)= eye color

(h/c)= hair color

(y/h/h)= your hogwarts house

It's fine, it's cool

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

And guess I'm the fool

With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

Pansy nodded along absentmindedly to whatever the bloke she was currently sitting next to was saying. She was thankful of how loud the music was as it almost tuned out the ear piercing sounds of him drunkenly blabbing on about something she personally didn’t give two fucks about. No, she was far more focused on finding the girl she held dear and close to her heart. Even in a crowded room like this one, she was always able to spot her (h/c) hair, styled to perfection. She watched as her lover took another large swig from a bottle on the table of drinks. And as if she could feel the slytherin’s eyes on her, she turned to look at her. Her usually shimmering (e/c) eyes were dull and tired. Pansy offered her a half smile and there was an unbearable gripe in her chest as the girl turned away, disguising herself in the sea of people on the dance floor.

Her drink sloshed out of the red cup in her hands as the boy wrapped his arm around her from the back of the couch, pulling her into his side. She grimaced at the smell of him, a mix of sweat and tobacco. She couldn’t help but wish it was that familiar scent of warm vanilla sugar cookie that she had grown quite fond of over the years. It hurt Pansy far more than her girlfriend could ever imagine to pretend they were strangers. But, she had a reputation to uphold. Her family expected her to marry a pureblooded man from a lineage much like her own and with how much Draco and his minions hung around, any sign that she planned to do otherwise would be reported back to her parents in no time. 

Plus, this was all so new for her. Pansy had never had feelings for anyone, let alone a girl. She had never allowed herself to show emotion so freely, to let her walls down for anyone let alone someone like (Y/n). She was a breath of fresh air compared to all the people she was forced to be around. (Y/n) was gentle, kind, and always true to herself. She didn’t care who was around or watching her because she knew who she was and was proud of it.

I don't wanna call it off

But you don't wanna call it love

You only wanna be the one that I call baby

Pansy let out a fake chuckle as the guy spewed lines that he most likely thought were erotic. He leaned in close, his hand caressing up and down her side. Even all the alcohol she had downed wasn’t enough to stop her from feeling disgusted from even his mere presence but there was far too much on the line. She closed her eyes, zoning out as he began to kiss down her neck, pulling her shirt to the side to suck at the bones of her collar. However, her eyes shot up as a breeze passed the left side of her body along with that scent she knew all too well. Her head jerked to the side as a familiar frame began to briskly walk further and further away from the party. Pushing the guy off, she ran down the corridor grabbing (Y/n)’s wrist. 

“Where are you off to? I’ve never known you to leave a party so early.” she teased. She looked around the empty corridor, carefully searching to make sure no one was around before pulling the girl close to her but as she went to place a kiss on the top of her head, the (y/h/h) girl pushed her back giving the slytherin a good view of her face. Her heart just about shattered at the tears and runny mascara messing up her pretty face. “(L/n)?”

(Y/n) let out a breathless laugh, sniffling as she whipped at her teary eyes. “You’d think after years of this I’d be used to this but…it never gets easier. I love you, Pansy. I really do, baby, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” she admitted. Her (e/c) eyes looked into her lover’s, full of sadness but the love she held for her still remained.

“What’re you saying? Do you wanna…” She couldn’t even bring herself to utter the words. The thought of it alone was enough to bring her world crumbling. “Break up?” she finished, her voice crackling. 

It took everything for (Y/n) to not reach out and hold her face, to nuzzle her nose into the side of her neck how she knew she loved. “I don’t wanna call it off but you have to realize how unfair this is to me, Pans. We’ve been together for what, two years? And during that whole time, you’ve never once even called me anything but my name out of fear of your friends hearing. Not one honey, baby, dear. D-do you know what kind of effect that’s had on me mentally?” she said, her voice breaking as she began to cry once more. She had told herself she’d remain strong but it was no use. She was a sensitive girl and when she felt things, she needed to let them out. Her body jumped a bit as she was brought out of her stormy mind at the feeling of a calloused finger swiping her tears away. She leaned into the girl’s touch as she wrapped her free hand around her waist, pulling her closer. The hand on her cheek trailed down to her chin before tilting it upwards.

“What do I need to do to prove to you how much I care? How much I need you in my life?” Pansy pleaded desperately.

“Tell me you love me.” (Y/n) whispered. Pansy drew her gaze down to the floor, her heart thumping wildly. She knew it was a simple request and she knew saying it wouldn’t be a lie. She did love the girl with every inch of her heart. She’d take a curse for her if she had to. But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was too risky. It was already a lot for her to be holding her like this outside of (Y/n)’s dorm, even if there was no one around to witness it. 

(Y/n) scoffed, shaking her head. In all Pansy’s years of knowing the girl, never once had she seen her grow angry. It made her blood grow cold. All she could do, even as the girl backed away from her, was stand there frozen. She stood there until the girl’s figure was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Her fist clenched, nails digging crescent moon shapes into the palms of her hands. The searing pain didn’t even hold a candle to the emotional pain she felt. Hot tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, the only thing that seemed to move as she was still frozen in time.

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

Good luck, babe (Well, good luck)

Well, good luck, babe (Well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Good luck, babe (Well, good luck)

Well, good luck, babe (Well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

The music blended into the background as she took another shot. The burning that usually came after had stopped long ago. She was convinced if she drank enough, the conversation that had taken place a few hours ago would begin to feel like a distant memory. But instead, it was as if she had become trapped in her own mind. The conversation played like a movie on a big screen and she was the only one in the theater with front row tickets to watch. 

Her lips moved drunkenly against guy number three of the night. She had managed to find something wrong with the other two. One smelled bad and the other one smiled far too much for her liking. But this one was quiet. He didn’t question when she grabbed him by his collar, crashing her mouth against his roughly. It was nothing like the passionate kisses her and dearest had held. It lacked love, depth, and any real emotion and her on end, it lacked lust as well. But no matter how intense the kiss grew, how hard his grip was on her waist, all she could think of was her. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

I'm cliché, who cares?

It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair

And I cry, it's not fair

I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air

A soft whimper fell from (Y/n)’s lips, her fingers tightening their grip in Pansy’s hair. Her thighs began to shake around her head, back arching from the soft mattress. She couldn’t help it. 

When Pansy came knocking on her dorm door at five in the morning, she looked like a wreck. Her hair was messy, bags under her eyes, lips swollen and bruised. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she had been doing. She was conflicted. She knew how important it was for her to keep up appearances, but at what cost? She was torturing herself and by proxy, torturing her as well. Pansy had drunkenly apologized to her, howling loudly for her to forgive her and just to get her to quiet down, she did. They had fallen asleep after (Y/n) got her cleaned up and changed into something more comfortable. It was nice, falling asleep in Pansy’s strong and womanly embrace. And in the afternoon when they awoke it was even better. The slytherin girl had worshiped her, placing delicate kisses down her body. And from there, things had escalated quickly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Let it all out for me.” Pansy muttered against her clit, sending an exhilarating feeling through her spine. Hot tears fell down the girl’s face, her chest falling and rising quickly. A large gasp fell from her lips, eyes rolling back as Pansy’s fingers prodded deep within her against her spot. Her pussy began to gush, spraying the girl’s face with her release. Her body convulsed and jolted as she rode out her high before collapsing against the mattress, trying to catch her breath. (E/c), half lidded eyes watched as Pansy crawled up, pulling the girl on top of her.

“I love you.” (Y/n) whispered but of course, Pansy said nothing. She just shushed her, gently combing her fingers through the girl’s hair. She placed soft kisses on her eyelids, lulling her to sleep.

Think I'm gonna call it off

Even if you call it love

I just wanna love someone who calls me baby

Pansy flipped through the pages of her book, relaxing on the sill of the window. Most of the students in her year had left the castle, deciding to celebrate their last and final day at Hogwarts before it was time to head home for the very last time. Her eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall, half past five. She had agreed that she and (Y/n) could spend some time together in the library since there was a low chance anyone would see them together. Two sneaker clad feet stopped in front of her causing her to look up. A smile graced her face before departing once more at the sullen expression on the girl’s face.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, love. But this, us, has no future. I waited, three years now I waited. I thought to myself ‘hey maybe she’ll come around, maybe she’ll fight for us harder’ but you never did.” (Y/n) sighed, looking down at the ground as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “I thought if I loved you hard enough it’d give you the courage to be proud of us. But we’re still at square one. Sneaking around to one another’s dorms, letting your stupid friends tease me. We’ve never even been on a real date.”

“That’s not true! What about the summer we spent in Brighton?” Pansy argued, grabbing the girl’s hand. (Y/n) removed her hand from hers gently, scoffing.

“Right, the summer we spent in muggle Brighton because you were too scared of anyone seeing us? We’ve never had a real date in the wizarding world, Pansy because you’re too scared of disappointing your parents. I thought you were different from the rest of the snobby prats you hang around and, in some ways, you are. But…I want to get married one day, Pansy. I want to bring my girlfriend to my family farm, to link hands when we walk down the streets.” Tears fell from Pansy’s eyes like raindrops onto the page. Her stomach tossed and turned and it took everything for her to not jump up and run, just to avoid hearing where this was going. “You won’t even call me names of affection.”

“B-but (Y/n), I care for you! I adore you. I lo-”

“Don’t even finish, it’ll only make things harder for the both of us!” she exclaimed, causing the slytherin’s eyes to widen. “It’s too late for that now. I just hope you realize, you’re never going to be able to push that side of you away. It’s who you are. You need to realize that before it’s too late. Good luck, babe.” (Y/n) choked out before running out the library. 

Pansy ruminated on her words. She couldn’t help the broken sobs that wracked her body. She let out a long string of swears, slapping herself on the forehead. Why couldn’t she be born a man? At least then her parents would let her marry a woman.

She sniffled trying to compose herself as she felt a tap on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw the librarian with a cloth tissue in her hand. She snatched it from her, dabbing her eyes before standing up to storm off, ignoring the loud ‘shh’ from the woman as she did so.

When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night

With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

And when you think about me, all of those years ago

You're standing face to face with "I told you so"

You know I hate to say it, I told you so

You know I hate to say, but I told you so

Rolling onto her back, she sighed, glaring angrily at the man next to her. For a man of such high social status and background, he had a disgustingly loud snore. Sometimes Pansy regretted telling her parents to just choose one for her. It’s not like it mattered much anyways. She knew no matter how handsome, how talented, or how wealthy of a man she had married, it never would feel right because they’d never be…her. She rubbed her hands over her face tiredly, staring at the intricate paintings on the gaudy ceiling.They were the only interesting thing in their bedroom. 

Throwing back the thick duvet, she rose from bed, shuffling to the bedroom door. Shutting it behind her, she made her way down the hall to her potion’s room. It was the one room in the house her husband had no interest in. Opening the door, she searched the shelves before grabbing a basic sleeping potion. She carelessly took a few gulps from it. She tossed it back on the shelf before opening one of the drawers, pulling out a wooden box with a lock on it. 

“Alohomora.” she whispered, pointing her wand at it. The lock clicked open, the wooden box slowly popping open. She dumped the contents onto the table next to her, a bittersweet smile on her face. 

There were dozens of photographs of her and (Y/n) from their trip to Brighton. She watched as one of the images moved. In it Pansy leaned over to kiss the girl on the lips and (Y/n) smiled, kissing her back. In another, (Y/n) was licking whipped cream off the top of her lip and smiling. Her smile warmed her heart, as it always did when Pansy would reminisce. Even though these images were taken nearly six years ago, it still felt like just yesterday. And as soon as Pansy would get wrapped up in her memories, she was just as quickly pulled back. This was her life now. She had everything anyone could ever want, but not the one and only thing she wanted.

“I hate to say, but you told me so.”

[rerinko]

There may be some slight grammatical errors i'm going to go back over it soon!

Chappell Roan “Good Luck Babe”: The song “Good Luck Babe” by Chappel Roan has blown up online. I personally love the song and I love Chappell Roan. I love seeing any sapphic media in general but especially lesbian specific media. One thing that has come along with the success of this song has been debates online. Debates about comphet, biphobia and lesbiphobia. I couldn't help but join those debates but I quickly learned short form comments aren't the best way to express your opinion coherently.

I saw this one video on TikTok that I can no longer find. It may have been deleted. In this video this bisexual woman on TikTok talked about how she kept seeing this idea that if you identify as bi but you're unfulfilled by relationships with men then you aren't bi. She also brought up how consistently marriage hasn't always been the best for women and just because she is straight doesn't mean a woman will be fulfilled by a relationship with any man. It's also biphobic to say so due those reasons. The lack of fulfillment I reference when talking about the realization that you are a lesbian is very different from the lack of fulfillment straight or bi women can experience in a relationship. A woman who likes men can be unfulfilled in a relationship with a man but that reason does not boil down to the fact that they are a man. If you are a lesbian a man could be perfect, they could provide everything, treat you amazingly, you could even have a good sex life and think you're in love but still no matter what there's something wrong. It's not him or his actions, it's the fact that it's “a him” in the first place. The reason why so many women never realize they're a lesbian is because it's so normalized to be unfulfilled in a relationship with a man. But being is a lesbian not just being unfulfilled with men but being unfulfilled with men in a way that you aren't with women. Straight or bi women have the ability to truly love and be fulfilled by a man. Lesbians do not. This is not to say every relationship is fulfilling. Just because you're with the gender you like, you like this person and you're in a relationship doesn't inherently make the relationship fulfilling. Relationships are complicated and many of them can bring more stress and pain to one's life than love and happiness.

I have seen many TikTok comments say comphet isn't a lesbian only experience and any queer people can experience and I simply do not agree. Lesbians are unique, it is the one sexuality that doesn't include men. The entire world is structured around men, this is a man's world. Women to this day in Canada and the United States can't get sterilized without their husbands consent. Realtors and car salesmen will automatically talk to the husband even if the wife is the one with the money making the purchase. When a woman gets married she takes her husband's last name. From a young age women are socialized to centre their entire life around men. From what we wear, to how we speak, even down to our interests we're taught to change it for the fancy of men. I grew up watching romance movies and I always wanted my own Prince Charming. It seemed like in every show I watched aimed at young girls the happy ending was the main girl getting the guy she wanted. We're never our own people. We are first the property of our fathers then our husbands. But isn't that the issue? When you're a lesbian there is no husband. There is no fairy tale ending, there is no Prince Charming, there's no man to stand up for you against misogynistic men in general. When you realize that you feel like a failure. You want to fit in. You want to talk with your girl friends about your boy crushes and gossip with them. You want to be one of the girls, you want to be normal, you want to like a boy. So you do. You choose one or someone just happens to be available and at first you like the attention. You like the butterflies because you've never held hands romantically before. You even think about him at night and imagine what your first kiss would be like. Then your first kiss actually happens and something feels wrong. You try again and again and nothing makes sense because you thought you liked him. Then you kiss a girl and it all makes sense. I wished I was bisexual, because I at least could've had a chance of marrying a man.

Men can be men. They don't need a wife, sure it's an add on but it's more like a trophy or an accessory they bare. Men can find success while single, they can be respected while single and they don't need their wives consent to do things. Gay men don't have to mourn privileges they will no longer gain because they are gay due to their gender. Men in general will never have to worry about so many things women do. Comphet isn't just being closeted it's about survival in society. It's about you being in denial because your entire life you've been shown there's only one way to be happy and that's to love a man and you'll never love a man. I'm sure all of these issues get even worse in more traditional cultures where men have all of the power making ability.

Bisexual women also face homophobia. I have spent much of this talking about bisexual women liking men but I do want to highlight the fact that bisexual women are also queer. Bisexual women share in the pain of being a queer women. They are often fetitzhed by men even by men they're in relationships and like lesbians assaulted due to the fact they like women. I don't think bisexual women are any less queer than lesbians but I do believe we go through different experiences. We both share the joy and pain of loving women but bisexual women will never understand the pain of not liking men.

Chappell Roan is a lesbian who makes songs about the lesbian experience. I've seen some people talk about the bridge and how they didn't realize it was about a lesbian and instead thought it was about a straight woman.

“When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night

With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

And when you think about me, all of those years ago

You're standing face to face with "I told you so"

You know I hate to say it, I told you so”

This commenter expanded by saying they just assumed it was about a straight woman who had lost her identity to her husband. I could understand how someone could come to this conclusion after one listen but I think after another few listens you can completely tell this song is about being a closeted lesbian.

This song to me almost feels like a secret summer love affair. One person wants to tell everyone and scream about their love from the rooftops and the other isn't ready to come out. They aren't ready to call what they have love because if they actually admitted it they would be admitting they never truly loved a man. They would have to come to terms with the fact they won't have a “normal” life, they won't have a nuclear family and no matter what not everyone will approve of them. These two people then split down two different paths. One accepts who they are but the other goes on to live a lie. They marry a man despite who they truly are and this bridge is the manifestation of the betrayal of your true self.

Someone's personal interpretation is different from the intended interpretation by the artist. Having your own interpretation is completely valid and it's one of the main things that draws peoples to art. But when art is made with a specific audience in mind actively speaking over those people and saying “oh well I think it's actually about this.” Is just whataboutism. Not everything has to be about everyone and you can relate to something without it being about you.

[southernsgothic]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞!

pairing, dina woodward & blk!fem reader!

summary, dina is in absolute denial about the relationship you two share and her sexuality, causing her to confess a secret to you that you’d never thought would happen.

warning (s), angst, compulsory heterosexuality, internalized lesbophobia, mentions of pregnancy, use of the word dyke, and mentions of sexual activity (nun too heavy tho lol).

didi’s notes, currently in love with chappell roan and this song is EXACTLY how it feels to struggle with comphet lol

your head is in your hands, trying to grasp what the hell it is dina is trying to tell you. “i don’t understand what it is that you don’t understand, y/n—” “you just told me that you loved me like three fucking days ago, d! what do you mean you’re pregnant...”

dina’s lip quivered at your shoulders dropping, her eyes welling up with tears as she turned away from you. she had dropped this bomb on you once your right hand made it down her face and into her jeans, weirdly getting disgusted by the action as she quickly got off you to zip herself up.

you leaned back and laughed a little, asking her if she okay and then she just… blurted it out. and now y’all were here. “he’s my boyfriend, y/n. what did you expect—”

“for you not to get pregnant after telling me that you love me!” you exclaimed, the sadness that overtook you previously was now quickly turning into anger. “this isn’t right, y/n. you know that what we’re doing isn’t okay—”

you were now genuinely confused as to what the hell dina was spewing out now, eyebrows furrowing as you hoped she wasn’t talking about what you thought she was talking about.

“what isn’t right, dina?” she shivered at the sound of her first name, quickly brushing it off as she exhaled: “this. we aren’t right, y/n. i mean, it’s one thing for me to cheat on jesse with a guy, but with you—”

your bitter laugh interrupted her statement, placing your arms across your chest as you muttered: “it’s because you don’t want to be seen with a dyke, right?”

“it’s not that—” “well then what the fuck is it then?! if you don’t want to be with me then just say that, but don’t try to run away or fucking hide from your sexuality because you can’t accept yourself!”

you let out a heavy breath as dina’s eyes landed towards the tiles below her, hands on her hips as she tried to fight back tears after listening to your outburst.

“i need to be with jesse, y/n. and if you wanna be mad at me for that then fine, but if you really love me like you say you do, you would understand why i have to do this.”

tears were now rapidly falling down dina’s face as she put her boots on, your face softening as you noticed that this wasn’t she wanted to do. you’d been there before, practically going insane trying to figure out your sexuality and instead of comforting dina, you yelled at her for it.

you got up from your couch and walked over to where dina was, attempting to embrace her in a hug, but she shoved you off, wiping her face as she slammed your front door, leaving you stand there in disbelief.

[noahs-blue-jeans]

Byler playlist! also giving insight into my tastes lol. Took a lot not to include the soulsborne music i actually always listen to

——

—Mykonos, Fleet Foxes. Mykonos itself is a “gay mecca”, and the Hellenistic greeks were well known for their queerness. The song itself evokes two men bonded by purpose and love to face down challenges. It also reminds me of Patroclus and Achilles, and is a popular song in rhe fandom for Song of Achilles. “Brother you dont need to turn me away/I was waiting down at the ancient gate.” hmmm, gate.

—Goddess, Laufey. This is one of my new favorite songs, and its themes touch on both boys’ insecurities. One can also argue the Eleven sings this, and as I write this out I think it is definitely El in a lot of ways. The “goddess”, a powerful person that Mike idolizes, but when they come to really know each other they realize it cant work.

—Operator (He Doesn’t Call Me), Låpsley. The first of a few on the nose songs lol, very much Will singing this about Mike who sure, tried to call him, but they never came through.

—Does Your Mother Know, ABBA. This show needs ABBA! everything does lol, you can listen to 70s disco in the 80s. Anyway, I see this being about Mike and his gaze toward Will. Wanting him, thinking he’s hot a cute, but keeping it. It’s lighthearted and I enjoy the idea of Karen getting sus that Mike like’s Will. I also see Mike jogging to this.

—Let You Break My Heart Again, Laufey. Love Laufey. Another where it applies to both boys. “Someday I will stop falling in love with you.” Mike trying so hard to move on from Will, and Will so torn up by how much he loves Mike.

—Good Luck Babe, Chappell Roan. I mean, does this need explanation? The comphet anthem of a generation, Will screaming this into the microphone while Mike watches. It’s like he was drunk at the airport in a way, trying to stuff his feelings away and salve his pain with lies.

—Black Sheep, Metric. The original version, this time an edgier take on their feelings, Will mostly. He’s upset, mad at Mike. “Now that the truth is just a rule/That you can bend” its giving Mike becoming a goddamn comphet pretzel.

—Baseball, Hippo Campus. Baseball being the Conformity Allegory, A. B: this song has some fun and poetic allusions to physical intimacy and touches on the relationship between the boys. I also just realized it has blue and yellow in the lyrics!

—As the World Caves In, Sarah Cochran cover. The song that plays as they think the world is ending around them, maybe it is. They’ve finally come together and make love. it’s awkward anf funny and passionate and feels so fucking good. In the end, they lie there and wait to see if the world will indeed cave in.

—Idea of Her, Cavetown. So many of Robbie’s songs work for them, as we’ll see with the next one. His trans experience speaks to the hiding of oneself, denying truths, and like this song addresses: loving the idea of something. We got California rep AND a top down view of Mike’s feelings about Eleven. “Can’t get your name past my lips like a slur.” To me, it reads as both the love he can’t say to El because its not true, and that it’s so hard to use Will’s name right after it.

—Boys Will Be Bugs, Cavetown. This is about Mike being stupid.

—Jupiter, C Duncan. A gay songwriter, Duncan’s song here has me imagine Will taking Mike on the journey of acceptance. Driving as the song plays, hands close to touching. A dreamlike sequence with Will taking charge, sensitively.

—Like Real People Do, Hozier. This is Hozier descending from music heaven telling these two to fucking kiss already.

—Beneath the Brine, The Family Crest. this feels to me like Mike melodramatically singing about Will while he’s trapped in the UD, and when he’s possessed and away from him.

—No Woman, Whitney. LA reference! While also referencing Mike’s changes, lying to himself, “walking through a haze” of his conflicting feelings for Will and El.

thats all for now! if anyone has byler tracks id love to see them

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Heather Duke x fem reader headcanons

Warnings: being queer in the 80s, internalized homophobia, brief mentions of sex (I might do full nsfw headcanons some other time), some modern au stuff is thrown in here as well btw

A/N: I know I have asks I need to work on but I wanted to write some queer headcanons for my beloved Heather Duke 💚(and I have NEVER written for her before so my bad if this didn't turn out well 😭)

First things first, I see Heather as a lesbian with comphet I see all the Heathers that way but that's besides the point so when she first noticed you she tried to brush off the butterflies in her stomach as jealousy over you or something

It didn't matter what she did to try to ignore you, for some reason she felt really drawn to you in a way she just couldn't explain (it's called a crush girlfriend look it up). You know that one song Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears? Yeah, that's how she felt every time she looked at you

You obviously knew who she was as one of the most popular girls in school, but you never hung out with her since you were part of different social groups, meaning the two of you first officially met when you were paired up with each other for some kind of assignment for school

The first time you so much as smiled at her she was gone immediately, practically melting to the floor in a pile of goo. It took her a good ten minutes to stop stuttering long enough to properly introduce herself

As you two got to know each other, she found herself being more and more enamored with you. You ended up taking over her every waking thought, until she couldn't do anything without thinking about you

She started to become increasingly agitated whenever you'd talk about friends of yours or other people who you hung out with- after all, she's a Heather. How could you not want to hang out with her all the time?

After a while of knowing each other, you let it slip (whether accidentally or on purpose) that you like girls, something that she genuinely never thought was possible before you said it out loud. Girls aren't supposed to like girls, they're supposed to like guys! ...right?

(If this is a modern au just play some Chappell Roan for her and eventually she'll get it. Okay back to the headcanons now lmao)

Grappling with the fact that girls actually can like other girls, she ends up impulsively kissing you based on pure instinct. She's so embarrassed when she finally realizes what she's done, but you're just sitting there with a dopey grin on your face

She ends up leaving right after, stuttering out apology after apology- what was she thinking, kissing another girl? What's wrong with her? She's one of the most popular girls in school, she could have any guy she wanted... but she soon comes to realize that the only person she wants is you

After avoiding you for what seems like forever (it was only for about a week) she finally approaches you again, with the intent to apologize and inform you that she can continue this "friendship" with you no longer

But when she gets to you and sees the way you look when leaning up against your locker, your outfit clinging to your body perfectly and the sound of your laughter filling the air over some dumb joke one of your friends said, she knows you've got her hooked, intentional or not

You shoo away your friends when you see her approach, a smirk toying with your lips as you watch her. "Took you long enough to come see me again. I was starting to think that maybe you didn't like me anymore"

Her face flushes red at your playful teasing, and the only thing she can mutter is a quiet plea for you to kiss her again, the same way she kissed you before she turned tail and ran. You eagerly obliged, not caring if other people were watching you

Even after you become an official couple, she still isn't super affectionate because of the internalized guilt and shame she feels over loving you. That's something the two of you are going to have to work on getting through together, as it won't just go away overnight

Depending on how you view the other Heathers (plus Veronica) they either won't care or will be fiercely protective over you guys. It's also possible they could be homophobic, especially Heather Chandler, but I choose to pretend as though that's an option that doesn't exist

Eventually she works up enough courage to initiate affection with you, at least she will in private. She's still a little bit scared about kissing or holding your hand in public (and for good reason) but you never push her into doing something she's uncomfortable with. You encourage her to take things at her own pace and to let you know if you need to slow down

The first time you two have sex, it's gentle and slow. You know she's never done anything like that before with another woman, and you want her to enjoy the experience, unlike all the other times she's forced herself to sit through having sex with guys who only cared about their own pleasure

She loves it when you wear something of hers. It could be as small as a piece of jewelry and she'll be giggling to herself like a giddy schoolgirl (she then tells Heather McNamara who joins her in acting giddy)

Oh and if you get something for the two of you to match? She'll love you forever (she already does but that just amplifies her feelings for you). It could be as small as matching keychains and she'll put it on her keys for her to look at everyday

If you know how to do makeup then she'll let you do hers for fun when the two of you have sleepovers with each other. Even if your style doesn't match hers she still enjoys it, and she'll happily do your makeup too if you're okay with it

Adding onto that, painting each other's nails and putting on face masks! She begs you to do it with her at least once, even if it's not your favorite thing in the world. She gives you a big kiss afterwards to show her gratitude

If this is set in modern times then you'd best believe Chappell Roan is her favorite singer, with Kesha and Ayesha Erotica following closely behind. She loves her so much, sometimes you joke about losing your girlfriend to her

One time she did her hair and makeup and dressed up to look like Chappell Roan at the end up the Casual music video and you nearly fell in the floor because of how similar they looked. The only thing that was different was her hair being straight and brunette instead of curly and red

She'll watch gladly watch Sapphic movies/shows with you but only if they end happy. If they end up being even remotely sad she'll end up sobbing into your chest for the rest of the day

The journey to her falling in love with you certainly wasn't an easy one, and sometimes she still faces guilt that's been embedded in her ever since she was young, but she knows she'd never be happier with anyone other than you, which makes it all worthwhile

End notes: this is unofficially dedicated to Shannon Doherty, who died recently due to breast cancer. Thank you for playing the amazing Heather Duke, you'll be deeply missed </3

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[thelesbianpoirot]

What do u think about Renee Rapp? I thought she was a Chappell lesbian chic kind of bisexual because she used to adamantly correct people and state she was bi she came out as gay in January, is dating a woman and one of her most recent releases was about being in love with her female costar—very cute song. Idk if she’s released anything this year but my friends are super into her music. I think like Roan she makes boring pop and don’t really care for it. It’s cool that so much of it is about women tho. But idk I always feel like if these young women have the guts to come out as lesbians knowing being lesbian and female exclusive isn’t popular and having claimed bi before then maybe they are lesbians? But it’s also been trendy to claim even bi and then admit down the line that they were trying to be trendy/sexy etc. I guess time will tell but either way I think more women need to know about febfems because it would save so much trouble and stop making people think lesbians are ‘fluid’ when the ones that are bi eventually drop the act. Like Kirsten Stewart gets clowned a lot but she’s a perfect example of a thriving febfem even if she’s never used the term.

I don't know who she is, but I can look up in my free time. I'll take your word for it, I am not a big pop fan, but I will give any female popstar a listen. I think some of these women could be lesbians, and some are not. Chapell is not in my book, but I am not an authority on another woman's sexuality, it just seems she was hurt or neglected by multiple men and women are her safe haven to protect herself. "I am not going to date men anymore, men can't make me come, here are sad love songs about men." The signs are all there. Every female popstar identifies bisexual, it is so common it doesn't stand out anymore, I am shocked when a female popstar says she's straight, so I think to stand out, some of the bi female stars say they are lesbians, especially if they are dating women at the time, knowing well they have been and are still attracted to men. Bad relationships with men, either abusive or insensitive make them excited for their relationship with women, they feel actual love from these women and it makes them think they must be lesbians, because men have never treated them so well and they have never felt so connected to a partner. But this is just the affect of some light female Seperatism. Especially since people are abusing the term comphet. I really would like if the term febfem got popular outside of rad orbit because some women really need it. It's not because I think only gold stars are lesbians, it is because you tell who is going to soon start saying lesbianism is limited, we need more men dressed as women, dick, or they are caught with another man. I applaud kristen stewart for continuing to call herself bisexual, and really being an example for bi women who primary date women, so girls can feel more pride in themselves. Same for Michelle Rodriguez the love of my life.

[erosjournal]

hi!! i'm asking for a "the first noel" thing for the Christmas event

I wondered if you could do something like naked in manhattan or really any other Chappell roan song where piper is sapphic (or dealing with comphet)? you can make it valgrace if it’s easier bc I don’t really know a specific ship for piper

(pls ignore this if it’s too convoluted and confusing 😭😭 I’m so sorry)

oh dw love ! i love this idea sm :D

☆ i wanna know, baby, what is it like ?

~ piper mclean x reyna avila ramirez arellano

~ synopsis : piper and reyna have their gay awakening of testing out kissing girls while watching mean girls.

~ tw(s) : girls kissing (is that really a tw :( ) cursing !

All Piper knew was that Regina George was fucking hot. She was surprised that Janis and Cady weren't into her, despite their canon sexualities. She was beautiful, and OMG, Renee Rapp as Regina? God, she was beautiful.

Reyna watched Piper's multiple expressions of excitement and listened to her very vocalized opinions on the characters and how they acted in specific situations.

"Hm, you seem to care a lot about this movie," Reyna teased, and Piper looked up to frown.

"How could you not? I'd be a better boyfriend than... whatever his name is. How is Cady and Regina into him?" She complained, looking back at the screen. Reyna laughed, chuckling under her breath. She looked back at Piper, cocking her head.

"Wait, Pipes, are you into girls?" She asked. Piper looked up, blushing.

"I-- No-- Well-- I mean--" She stammered and Reyna smirked at her flustered expression. Piper sighed and pouted. "I don't know. I mean, I've only liked guys... but I don't know. Like, I've had some pretty not-straight thoughts about girls, like Annabeth, and..." Piper blushed again and looked away.

"Like?" Reyna prompted. Piper groaned into her pillow.

"You." She sighed. Reyna raised an eyebrow.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, I fucked this up, I should head off..." Piper mumbled. She started getting up but Reyna put a hand on her shoulder.

"No, don't go. I mean, it's fine." She pulled Piper closer to her, so they were facing each other. Mere inches apart.

"I've had some... pretty not-straight thoughts about you too." She murmured. Piper gasped. Oh. OH!

"Oh." Reyna nodded. She glanced at Piper's lips, then back to her eyes.

"Can I--"

"Fuck yes." Piper mumbled as she held Reyna's face and crashed their lips together. It wasn't harsh or anything, but it definitely was hungry.

~ an : hi anon ! i hope u liked it , sorry it took me so long !! i rlly like pipeyna , but i tired to make piper as gay as possible by also adding annabeth in there ! i hope it was what u wanted :D also sorry it was super rushed lmao

<3 eros

[spiciestmarinara]

So, in a totally normal move, I’ve been thinking a lot about what a Chappell Roan episode of The Muppet Show might look like. This is assuming there is a continuation of the classic variety show format. While I don’t have a whole script written out, here’s what I got:

- Scooter does his usual opening lines with “Chappell Roan? 15 minutes to curtain, Miss. Roan” and we see a brief glimpse of whatever stunning outfit she has on. She thanks him and gets up to leave.

Since the guest star’s dressing room and Miss. Piggy’s dressing room are next to each other on the second floor backstage, both her and Miss. Piggy exit their rooms at the same time and are wearing the exact same outfit.

Miss. Piggy goes “Well, one of us has to change, hmph!” And the intro theme song sequence starts. (Bonus points if afterwards, Chappell does appear in a different outfit and Miss. Piggy is seen at least once more in the original- implying Chappell is the one who changed.)

(Sorry for the read more, I was proud of that first bit but I had a lot more ideas)

- I read someone posited that the episode long “story of the day” should be Miss. Piggy catching feelings for Chappell, but I have another plan for that story- what I do think would be funny is if Wanda of Wayne and Wanda makes a few remarks during the episode of how beautiful and talented the guest star is.

Wanda’s just recognizable enough as a C-List Muppet that it would be funny without it being the whole episode. And a quiet jab at comphet that Chappell herself has sung about, most notably in “Good Luck, Babe!”.

- I would love if the first musical number was Chappell with Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayham performing ‘Femininomenon’.

Both because I think it’s appropriate as the first track on her debut album and I just really want Animal to take the reigns on the ‘call and response’ segment and be like “Fem-in-in-omen-on! Fem-in-in-omen-on!”.

(Bonus points if Chappell is originally particularly addressing Janice like she does with her own band on stage, but of course Animal becomes the loudest participant).

- Now would be a good time to introduce the off-stage “story of the day”, which I thought would be about Gonzo.

Follow me for a minute, I picked Gonzo because of all the Muppets, he seems the most widely seen as a queer icon (maybe fighting for first place with Miss. Piggy) and one of the most popular characters in the show overall.

I would want him to approach Kermit asking what he can do for the show, but both Kermit and other characters backstage keep kind of brushing him off because ‘it doesn’t matter what he ends up doing, the crowd will just be happy to see him’.

This isn’t in a mean way, but all his friends have confidence in him and don’t want him to over think it, but on his side it starts to feel isolating because what other new things could he bring to a crowd that expect so much of him?

As usual, this storyline would be seen on and off between segments for the rest of the show.

- Now I absolutely want a couple short non-Chappell segments in there. An ‘At the Dance’ and Fozzie vs Statler and Waldorf, I don’t have a plan for everything.

BUT- I do have a vague plan for Pigs in Space. The Swinetrek hits some turbulence- Dr. Stangepork, reading a terminal, says something like “we are close to a star explosion which is somehow giving off a high number of polyphenols and sugars we normally only find in our dark colored grapes back on Earth!”

And Captain Link goes “That’s one Red Wine Supernova!”.

And that’s it that’s the one joke I had for this segment. We could also probably work ‘Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl’ if Chappell appears in this segment as like a sexy 60’s random alien warrior lady- keeping in theme for the Star Trek parody.

- I would want Chappell to sing one song that isn’t one of her own, I would purpose a recreation of Charles Aznavour’s ‘The Old Fashioned Way’ because I think a slower jazzy piece would really work for her and she could wear a beautiful ball gown and they could still do a big ballroom with other dancing muppets.

I also think Chappell would really like reigniting interest in Aznavour’s songs. While not queer himself, he was a human rights activist and an early supporter of the LGBT rights movements in the 1970’s.

- Finally going back to Gonzo, they would do the usual trope of the guest star finding the Muppet in Crisis sitting alone somewhere. She would ask him what’s wrong and and sit with him as he explained that he feels lost. Something like

“I used to just be a performance artist they’d reluctantly let on stage to fill a few minutes. Then when things exploded on me, I’d get a laugh, so that became my thing. Then all this popularity and the Muppets becoming just so big- I don’t know what I can do anymore. It feels like I can’t go back but I don’t know the way forward.”

And Chappell would completely understand, I purposely thought of this because of her public struggle with her skyrocketing fame and still wanting to be seen as an artist and as a person.

To conversation would culminate in Chappell singing a dressed down version of “California” that I think should be turned into a mashup with “I’m Going to Go Back There Someday”- Gonzo’s song from the original Muppet movie.

I’m not sure how to get out of this scene that will probably end the show, maybe Kermit coming out and telling Gonzo that the duet was great and everyone loved it, he and Chappell made something unique and beautiful out of their love for their art, the struggles that got them where they are, and the wistful desire to keep the old days close in their hearts.

If you made it this far in my super crazy ideas about a Chappell Roan muppet episode, thanks!

As a bonus, here’s my pitch for a Orville Peck episode:

Link Hogthrob dresses up like him and goes by “Orville Pork”.

[vulpixelates]

i find it so endlessly obnoxious that lesbians can't talk about their unique experiences without being accused of being man-hating and biphobic if it doesn't line up with polysexual sapphics aoeifjaoi

is it not obvious to non-lesbians that chappell roan's new song isn't even talking about a bi woman???? the lines about waking up next to a man and realizing you're just his wife is so clearly about comphet and realizing later in life that you're a lesbian and missed out on your dream girl bc you were too afraid to accept yourself

but i keep seeing the most milquetoast takes about how chappell roan "clearly doesn't see ending up with men as a viable option" or is biphobic for it like 💀 just say you don't know how to interpret song lyrics and love speaking over lesbians, it's easier

[jewishbarbies]

I’m tired of that Chappell Roan song Good Luck Babe being used to be biphobic. “When you wake up next to him in the mid”-🔫🔫🔫🔫 SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPP. I don’t understand how people took a song that’s clearly not biphobic and MADE IT BIPHOBIC.

Wlw love is not purer or more feminist than wlm. Love is just love. I’m so fucking tired.

also Chappell said she changed the name of the song because it originally had a specific name in it, but changed it to “babe” so that it was universal and could even be applied to the self. like, you struggling with your own sexuality. she said it was inspired by a woman who was clearly mutually in love with her but then started dating a guy and claimed there was nothing between she and her, so not only is it NOT about biphobia but it’s about actual comphet and a specific person. but something like this was bound to be hijacked by radfems/TERFs like they ruin every other conversation about comphet and complex feelings.

[vera-yaps]

Okay. so we all know representation matters but can we please talk about how genuinely important chappell roan is for lesbians?

Like a top ten mainstream song is about lesbian comphet, not just popular between queer people in queer spaces, like hayley kiyoko was so amazing for lesbian rep. dont get that twisted. but like. girls like girls didnt play on every radio the way good luck babe or hottogo does. like most cishet ppl esp then if you asked them who hayley kiyoko is theyd either be confused or tell you the girl from lemonade mouth.

Rennee rapp makes great music and in no way am i downplaying her either, i just dont know her music the way i do chappell’s.

I saw a video of a little girl on tik tok who loves chappell so much she dresses up like chappell, she likes her bc she has long red hair like her. there was a video of her meeting her and she went “:0 !!! Chappell roan!!”

This shit was what made me tear tf up and imma tell you why

When i was 14 i had a best friend. it was the common intense female friendship where theres queer esque tension and you end up having a really dramatic friendship breakup blah blah blah. long story short i got outed to my emotionally abusive and homophobic mother, she willingly came out to hers and that resulted in her not allowed to share a bed with anyone supposedly. we had sleepovers all the time. id mention we slept in different areas to my mother and she got…really pissed. it was weird. she was so paranoid i “told her about what i wrote in my diary”. When i had a crush on my other friend freshman year of HS my mom paranoidly made sure i told said friend that i need to tell her i wasn’t “into that”. she was paranoid i’d be anything close to gay. that made my self confidence take a blow for obvious reasons.

we’re told from year to year in our time esp when ur a 2000s kid in south florida surrounded by thinly veiled hate that lesbians are predatory, that we need to stay away from girls

even my well meaning straight best friends would be all u dont like me do you?

it takes away your sense of womanhood whether you identify as one or not, it takes away your security in yourself that you’re fine the way you are.

look, most of chappell’s songs are about lesbian sex, or at least have that undertone obvi, but like. i jammed out to nicki minaj as a child and i turned out fine (well i didnt but thats not because of her)

like i thought super bass was about a bass guitar

kids think pink pony club is about a real group of ponies.

i bring up these stories because it heals little 13 year old me that they arent predatory, that its not shameful and theyre worthy of being looked up to the way any straight girl is. that my love deserves to be mainstream.

anyways got a lil too emotional for tumblr today girls lololz

[the-quaking-aspen]

I saw on Twitter some discourse on Chappel Roan and like. Oof.

So. This specific thing was on the song good luck babe. The song in it's clearest meaning is about comphet. Simple and clear.

As it happens with all things queer, someone changed the lyrics so the song is about basic het love.

Which like, I do feel like people can do whatever they want with a song and it's interpretations. But when you change a song that is talking about a queer thing, into a het thing, then that is just so disgusting and unnecessary. There is already so little for us, and so much for them that like... why do you need to come after what little we've got? There are endless songs about rejection from a het romance perspective.

And honestly, the part that bothers me the most is that... you don't even have to change the lyrics to the song to interpret it as basic het. Like, if you take the lyric "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars", you can easily infer a "other boys" there and boom, a guy talking about a girl. Done. I would not think that is a stretch as more convoluted lyrics exist. Like ugh. This is just so stupid.