#mistress anita

[boundbimbos]

[who-canceled-roger-rabbit]

Headcanon that Jennifer and Needy had a simultaneous bisexual awakening while watching Elvira together, either in one of her movies or on an old tape of Movie Macabre

[kaijuno]

Anita Blair was the first guide dog handler in El Paso, Texas, when she graduated from The Seeing Eye in March 1940 with Fawn, a German shepherd. The photo is a black and white photo of Anita being guided by Fawn across a bustling city street in the early 1940s.

Just a month later, Anita and Fawn were crossing a street in El Paso when a car nearly hit her. “Fawn, the fawn-colored German shepherd, with perfect timing checked her mistress’s pace, so that the car sped past without the driver being aware that the young woman could not see,” the El Paso Times reported on April 19, 1940.

Fawn was at her side when she graduated from the Texas College of Mines and Metallurgy – now known as the University of Texas at El Paso, or UTEP – with a bachelor’s degree in 1944. She later earned a master’s degree from Texas State College for Women, now Texas Woman’s University, in Denton.

In 1946, Anita and Fawn were again in the news during a tragic fire at the 23-story Hotel LaSalle in Chicago. According to the June 6, 1946, issue of the El Paso Times, Anita was awakened by screams. “When I opened the door the smoke was so heavy I could taste it,” Anita told the newspaper. “I closed the door but did not want to get Fawn excited. Because of her I remained calm – and probably because of me she did the same.”

Fawn led Anita out the window and down the fire escape – 11 stories down – while the fire raged. Sixty-one people were killed in the fire.

In 1952, Anita became the first El Paso woman – and the first blind woman in any state – to be elected as a state representative. During her time in office, Anita fought for funding for the State School for the Deaf, teacher pay raises, and a bill that allowed women to serve on juries.

Anita returned to The Seeing Eye five more times to be matched with successor Seeing Eye dogs. Her last was Beryl, a black Labrador retriever, in 1990. Anita died in 2010 at the age of 93, and in recognition of her service as a state legislator, is buried in the Texas State Cemetery in Austin.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Rita Moreno (Singin' in the Rain, West Side Story)—She’s an EGOT, an absolute legend for how she navigated her career as a woman of color in the fifties and sixties. Her performance as Anita in West Side Story is why I go back to that movie so many times. She is an icon and she is the moment.

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Rita Moreno propaganda:

"Amazing showstopping actress in her one big memorable role as Anita in West Side Story. She sings and dances with unmatched joy and energy, and then breaks your heart with her acting. Rita took a role that felt as a stereotype to latina women and made it compelling and multifaceted. Her subsequent career was filled with mostly side roles, but she still managed to excel in whatever Hollywood threw at her."

"It’s Rita!! The EGOT herself! She can act, she can sing, she can dance, a triple threat. Obviously absolutely iconic as Anita in West Side Story (her part of the Tonight Quintet is the sexiest part of the film, fight me). But before that she was the amazing Zelda in Singin’ In the Rain!?! Thanks Zelda, you’re a real pal."

"She continues to be amazing but also she's got legs for days."

"THEE iconic rita moreno, EGOT winner, civil rights activist, theatre legend. watch her documentary "Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go for It". also her rendition of "fever" on the muppet show"

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: GUM

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, implied CSA, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, death (including of a young people), pregnancy mention (no actual pregnancy happens)

Read after the cut

---

You pass those early November days in a state half haze and half suggestion, the doctor's medicine the antidote for the inevitable tilt of your sane mind under the density of his evil.

It is relieving to be but his daughter, slurring and monosyllabic against your bed as he teases sheathes of meat past your lips or leaves you to work, or to exercise, or to meet unnamed friends at elegant bars that leave his clothes smelling of expensive alcohol.

This might have made you envious, had you not been so far under an influence of his making.

How beautiful the drug that cauterises the fetid wound of thought, taking from you ruminations of the boundless killing, the rapes, the guilt of eating and surely gaining from it; you could kiss the hand of whatever elf of morphine so surrounds you in its magic.

Never in adult life have you been so quiet of cognition, nor so truly at rest. When Will is announced to return and you're allowed to taper back into sobriety you think of asking for it to end, to have again that Xanadu where the dread of your days is but the black of a turning cloud.

But then you think of how many breakfasts, lunches, and dinners in their inimical triads you've taken there as though at some Roman feast, and you are revolted with yourself and that numb lapse into defeat.

You insist on dressing and making yourself up that morning in a burgundy dress patterned with foliage Hannibal had lovingly allowed you to select, with his iPad before you, from a Lolita Lempicka 1997 runway, sold for an unspeakable price from a stylist's collection.

Being that the dress is sheer you wear a shift beneath, unable to stand the sight of your body through it, wanting only the gown's flocked effect of coiling leaves like one last fragment of autumn upon you. That, and the power of having bid your keeper to purchase something so expensive; his tastes have somewhat rubbed off on you, you realise, elevating them to a standard he approves of.

He looks at you admiringly even after Will arrives, self-congratulating in having made such a mannequin of you.

Will, for his part, barely notices the dress at all. The Lover’s case is his mistress, and like such a wicked woman it has taken him from you.

“We’ve been given the details of three Mask Murder victims in Kentucky,” says Will. “They died thirty years before the Lover killings began. His youngest target in the present day was eighteen years old, whereas the Kentucky victims were all the same age as Anäis Foreau.”

He lays out images of the women as they’d been in life upon the coffee table: a family snapshot, a birthday celebration, a yearbook photo, all taken on cameras likely defunct relics of old technology by now.

“Lillian Greyflower, Bryce Mulligan, and Anita Bradbury were each dressed as dolls and laid to rest by bodies of water under the cover of night. All of them were of an unusually small build, with blonde hair and light-coloured eyes; that gives us a vague description of the Lover’s first muse, being that he obviously tried to replicate her in his murders.”

You stare at the three women, automatically comparing your frame with their thinness, and are ashamed when you realise their ages.

“They’re all little girls,” you say, aloud. “Which means she must have been, too. All of them... just kids.”

“Indeed,” says Hannibal, and he lays a serious hand upon your shoulder as though he, too, had not killed similarly young women in copying other crimes.

“I just hope I don’t have any children,” you mutter. “The world is a bad place.”

Hannibal looks at your leg, which has entered, of its own accord, its habit of tireless motion, the unshod foot tipping one of the striped sofa cushions onto the floor.

“You’ve thought about pregnancy, then,” he comments levelly.

You shrug.

“I mean... yeah.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

Feeling both men’s eyes burn your face with their focus you say, “I get scared it’ll happen to me. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night. I can’t have a baby. That’s what I am. I can’t take care of anybody and I don’t want to.”

Your voice strains into a strangled peak, and as Hannibal bends to retrieve the cushion he touches your knee gently.

“You needn’t worry,” he says. “I’ve been administering birth control since it was safe to do so.”

You examine him with dull apprehension. It would not be unlike Hannibal to experiment with such an immobilising condition as an unwanted pregnancy, the symptoms of which would force you to gain the weight you dread like the devil.

But then you cannot imagine Hannibal having much interest in the rearing of a real child, with its messes and disruptive noise and inappropriate demands. Yours he merely tolerates because he apparently perceives something in you worth enduring those assaults upon his taste.

Still you do not—cannot—trust his word. A carousel of alternate realities exists to him, all of them equally true.

“You’re sure it can’t happen even by accident?” you ask. “Because you don’t— neither of you have ever, well—”

You cannot utter the word that comes forth for protection, finding it clumsy and humiliating.

Tortured, you whisper, “Never mind.”

Will smirks, enjoying your embarrassment.

“Haven’t we left it a little late to talk about contraception?”

The thought of him pausing before an assault to roll down rubber over his arousal rises, sickening and provocative. Hannibal would do so clinically, as though putting on a latex glove, but Will would apply it quickly, crudely, if at all. He doesn’t seem like a man that would bother with condoms; certainly he never has with you.

“It’s not funny,” you say. “It really freaks me out. If I got... bigger. If my body looked different because of that I’d hate it. I don’t know what I’d do, and it’d be all because of you guys. I don’t have a choice, remember?”

Merely speaking of the potential of this sends a grave pulse of adrenaline through your frame, and you begin to shiver even in the warm of the room.

Will takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders.

“Relax,” he says. “There’s not going to be a baby, alright?”

Hannibal stands to tend to the fire, though it scarcely needs the feast of logs he offers up to it.

“I can’t help but wonder, Will. How would you feel if there was?”

Will's face twists.

“There’s no place for an infant in this dynamic. It wouldn’t fit. She plays that role, some of the time. I’m fulfilled, if that’s what you want to know. Aren't you?”

"Of course," says Hannibal, to your relief. "I’m simply curious how you’d respond if a pregnancy occurred in other, hypothetical circumstances.”

You draw Will's jacket closer around you as his gaze steals across your body. With resentment you realise how he envisions you: his pretty young lover, full with his child, pottering heavily about his faraway residence amidst a froth of dogs.

He cannot bring himself to think how it would truly be, a sobbing, bloated servant, chained at the ankle to prevent her from dashing her head of its brains on the nearest dresser.

“I wouldn’t plan it to happen," Will says, still thinking of his domestic ideal, "but I don’t entirely hate the concept.”

Then his visage hardens, and he shakes his head.

“To have a child at a time like this would be ill-advised. It'd be an invitation to any circling predator to play their hand.”

“You think the Lover will continue to provoke us as he did with Amy,” says Hannibal. “That his interest is caught between his muse and the three of us."

Surely he knows, you think, if he has contact with the killer. What is this new game that Hannibal's playing?

“We’re taking a role in the narrative the Lover is creating,” says Will. “The love story. The investigation to him is like relatives standing in the way of forbidden romance.”

“That,” says Hannibal, “or being aware of our relationship through the rumours circulated by Tattle Crime he believes that our family emulates that which he aches to possess. He envies us our love. Amy’s abduction was an attempt to derail our charge’s treatment and destroy our bond with her; Little One would not have forgiven the death of a friend. Though foiled, his efforts are unlikely to end there.”

You recall the thunderous panic that had descended over you upon learning Amy had been taken and rub your damp palms dry on your dress, forgetting, temporarily, its value.

“So you think he’ll kill someone else I know,” you say. “Someone who isn’t even his usual type just to get at me.”

“We can’t deny the possibility,” says Will. “The only time we’re likely to see him break his pattern is to agitate you.”

“But hasn’t he broken it already? If the Lover’s victims are the same age as his target then she must be an adult. And the first muse had to have been a little girl— knowing what we know about guys like him, why didn’t he choose another child?”

A glance passes between Will and Hannibal that you cannot entirely dissect.

“He did,” says Will, at last. “The Lover chose his new target long before he started placing women into rubber dolls. There was a lack of access preventing him from abducting her when she was younger. His first muse would have likely been a relative, someone he could isolate and travel with freely without being questioned; he hasn’t had that opportunity with his new bride, or he would have taken her already.”

Will’s voice is low, careful, as though breaking the news of an incurable illness to some fragile patient.

“The Lover held off killing again for as long as he could to avoid creating a recognisable pattern. That’s why there were decades between the Mask Murders and the Lover killings; once he started again it was less likely the police would link the two cases together. The ages of the victims are just another change to throw off the scent.”

Another child grown up in the world observed and objectified by an adult engorged with power over them.

“Does the Lover know what happened to me?”

This directed at Hannibal, who has conversed enough with the killer to know.

“He’s aware that you’re unwell,” he replies, cautiously. “That being public knowledge, it’s not so farfetched to imagine that he has guessed the cause.”

In some subtle mode Hannibal is informing you that it was not he that told of this crime against your youth. But that your captor knowingly collaborated with a similar predator to your own folds your gut down into the smallest square.

You should never have expected more from him, yet you had thought him possessed of greater self-respect. His claim that the Lover’s continued life and freedom is to allow Will to capture him alone is tenuous to the extreme.

This line of brooding thought is disturbed by Will tugging his cell phone from his pocket to look at the screen.

“Is it Jack?” you ask at once.

Another killing, you think, of a person so close to you that you will feel the Lover’s darkness like wolf breath upon you.

“It’s Beverly Katz, actually,” says Will. “She’s been going over some of the evidence from the crime scenes. Maybe she’s found something useful.”

He rises, already grunting into the receiver with his usual absence of professional manners.

“There’s wine in the kitchen,” says Hannibal, as Will passes him by. “You may open it, if you like.”

“Generous as ever, Dr Lecter.”

A silence imbues the room in Will’s wake, the conversation having stained the air with its dun pallor.

Then in an abrupt motion Hannibal bends slightly to reach under his chair, his hand emerging around the handle of a ribboned gift bag.

“Now we have a moment of privacy,” he says, “there is something I’d like you to have.”

You accept the bag with apathy, too worn down by the discussion of the Lover case to muster even the remotest glee.

“What is it?” you ask. “Another present?”

You reach into a blossom of tissue and retrieve something of worn velveteen from within. Almost at once you attempt to return it to the bag, prevented only by Hannibal’s quick grip upon your wrist.

“How did you get that?” you demand. “Did you let yourself back into my house and steal it?”

A battered toy frog dangles from your throttling grip, its body worn almost through to the stuffing from past adoration. Once you’d cherished the early, half-formed memory of Leland Frost dancing the animal before you, giving it a voice that was merely an exaggerated version of its own.

Now you only cringe at the echo of his chatter. The frog’s glass eyes remind you of the porcelain mask on the dead face of Anaïs Foreau.

Hannibal says, “I asked your mother to find it and send it to me. She was glad to oblige.”

You glare at him in hurt and disgust.

“Why would you do that?”

“I believe Philippe represents the comfort that was ultimately tainted by the actions of another. In hiding him away you’ve allowed that arrow wound to fester and infect your blood with the taint of that historical abuse. I’d rather we heal the injury and cut out the flint entirely. It would hurt you far less to do so quickly now and discard at least some of your grief.”

That a man that hangs corpses in his cellar can speak also as a poet, calm and empathetic in his syllables takes you aback; you are as moved by his suggestion as you’d been by him tending you on your sickbed.

“You mean I should get rid of him for good,” you say. “Flip, I mean.”

“Yes. It would allow you a partial sense of closure in regards to the love you once had for Leland Frost. You may choose to give Philippe away, or to destroy him in whatever way you wish. I’d like it to be your choice.”

You hold Flip with both hands, knowing you cannot bear another child to cradle this thing with as you once did, and consider tearing it apart down the middle. Then you glance up at the fire, and see in its savagery a suitable end.

“I want to burn him,” you say. “Burn it.”

Hannibal nods, satisfied by your willingness to engage in the exercise.

“Very well. Go on, then.”

Without speaking another word you get up and throw the animal into the flames with such vehemence that you near unbolt your shoulder from its joint. The frog’s skin blackens into haggard twists, its eyes turning like the orb of some fell sorcerer into grim opacity.

As sparks spit like star falls from the pyre your misery and disgust sear away into a tired hollow, yet you feel somewhat cleaner for it, as though some poison has been turned out of the bottle of your heart.

Hannibal’s pale hand extends, palm up, towards you, and you take it, having no other to hold for comfort but that of a murderer.

“The burning of things has always held spiritual and emotional significance since its discovery by ancient man,” he says. “The charring of offerings as a gift to deities. The burning of the dead to transport them to planes beyond.”

“Witches burn things to cleanse energies,” you say. “Or to manifest something.”

“And of the two which is your purpose?”

He asks this quite seriously, without irony or teasing.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Both, I guess.”

Looking up into Hannibal’s expression you see for the first time something of what he feels for Will. It frightens you, and yet you wish to drink of it as though from an oasis.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I’m glad we did this.”

Hannibal leans down to kiss the parting of your hair rather chastely, and you sit in an almost comfortable quiet together, your head nestled into his impeccably ironed shirt.

Abruptly you say, “Do you want to know why I thought about killing my Mom that time rather than Uncle Lee?”

You feel your captor straighten slightly against you.

“If you’re ready to tell me, then of course.”

Closing your eyes, you draw the strength to speak from your personal darkness.

“I loved my mom. I knew her so well. I had all these expectations of her and ideas of who and what she was supposed to be. So whenever she did something to hurt me or yelled at me it was easy to be mad at her. To wish that she was dead.

“But Leland... even when I loved him and he was my best friend I never really knew anything about him behind the act.”

Hannibal strokes the back of your neck, the rhythm of his touch like the rocking of a child to sleep.

“He had a mother that died, I heard,” you say. “A cousin, too, I think he mentioned once. He still has a lot of living family he never goes back to visit. Maybe all of that’s part of what made him what he is, but I don’t think so.

“They say you’re born with those attractions. I guess some people are ashamed of it and try to be better, but Leland obviously never did. He... relished what he was. Even before I knew what the dark shape behind the eyes of his mask was I always saw he had no shame in anything. And I couldn’t comprehend it, so how could I be angry?

“It’d be like trying to be mad at an animal. Or some kind of spirit or entity. I wouldn’t know how to kill something like that.”

Hannibal says, “It’s not an impossible feat to exorcise such a being.”

Even within the pain of remembered past you are amused that he is beginning to entertain your flair towards supernatural thinking rather than attempt to translate it into rational or psychological language.

“And how would I do that?” you ask. “Prayers and salt circles?”

“That won’t be necessary. All we must do is demystify your uncle’s past and the creation myth of his evil. Once we have before us the fabric of his becoming then he’ll no longer seem unknowable to you, only a mere mortal. A thing that can be killed.”

Opening your eyes you immediately glance aside, too conflicted by your gratitude towards the creature you most fear to meet his gaze.

“I’ve tried looking him up before,” you say, “going through all his social media and stuff. There wasn’t a lot. Fishing photos and dad jokes, mainly.”

“Leave it with me,” says Hannibal. “For now, I have one final question on the matter of Leland Frost. If you were to ever reach the point you were able to kill him would you do so in the same way you’d envisioned for your mother? It is a form of intimacy, the use of a knife. It allows you to feel every physical aspect of death as it occurs and to witness in close quarters the recognition of its approach in the eyes of your victim.

This again, you think with a weary resignation.

"I don't know how I'd do it," you say. "Just like I wouldn't know how to kill you. It's unthinkable."

"Is it?" asks Hannibal, and with a liquid motion he withdraws a knife from the inside of his jacket— not the little fruit peeler with which he'd threatened you on that night of revelation but a steel kitchen blade, half the length of his arm and cruel in the maintained evil of its edge.

You start away from him across the couch, halting only when he turns the weapon upon himself, offering you the handle.

“Show me how you’d kill me if you had the opportunity to do so.”

Anxious, incredulous, you accept the knife from him.

“You’re trusting me with this, Dad?”

“Yes. I hope that you appreciate the gesture. Besides, I’m confident that I could disarm you before you’d done more than graze the skin.”

The image of him snapping your wrist in his fingers elicits a shudder.

“I don’t want to do this," you say, and attempt to hand the knife back, which Hannibal refuses.

“If you fear and respect me as your father then you must obey. Demonstrate your instincts for me, Little One. Would you pierce my heart as you would have done your mother? Perhaps you’d slit my throat, as you’d considered for Will."

You don't like to be reminded of the evening your cowardice had shattered your just revenge like a spell, the hour that Will had taken you so spitefully against a wall behind which Hannibal had listened. Perhaps it would have been a kinder fate to have died for your attempt on him before you’d learned that there was no use in hatred against him any longer.

“You’d never let me kill you, Daddy," you say, aloud. "You’d kill me first, just like you said.”

“You’re stalling, Little One," says Hannibal, with a certain fondness. "Is it the honesty of the act that perturbs you? So much else in you is performance or secrecy; this, even in theatre, would be true to your desire.”

Exasperated, you set the blade down beside you, careful not to slit the cushions and induce Hannibal’s controlled wrath.

“I don’t want your blood on my hands. Or on my face. What if I swallowed it? There are calories in blood, and I don’t know how many.”

Hannibal’s brows rise.

“You’re serious.”

It’s certainly one reason for your hesitation, and you are more than happy for him to latch onto it if it gets you out of this sinister play of his.

“I worry about a lot of stuff like that,” you admit. “Gum. Toothpaste. I used to think maybe just smelling food would make me gain weight, but then sometimes I’d walk past restaurants or through the kitchen just to breathe the food in and pretend I’d eaten it. I’d watch cooking shows or make Pinterest boards of meals so I could look at them and eat them through my eyes.

“But I’m scared to have it touch my mouth. Even when I chew and spit food sometimes I get mad I even let myself go that far.”

“I wouldn’t allow you to spit any blood of mine,” says Hannibal. “You’ve already consumed parts of me; whatever change would come of it is already in motion.”

His semen, his saliva, particles of him altering you each time they pass the forbidden frontier of your throat— will they make you like him, you wonder, by the process of biological assimilation?

“You’re right,” you say. “And I’m scared of that, too.”

Hannibal takes your face in his hand, tracing the round of your cheek as he might some delicate ornament of glass.

“You’ve been driven by your experiences to view any sort of evolution in a negative light. I understand that, and so I don’t ask that you become identical to Will or I. That’s why we allow you to remain a child and manage all the responsibilities that would otherwise overwhelm and inhibit your progress. We would protect you with our lives if we had to.”

With shock you realise you believe him. The logic of their violence is beyond your comprehension in its uncertain borders, yet that they would guard you with it as surely as punish you cannot deny.

“Still, I don’t want you to be helpless,” Hannibal continues. “Try as we might, there are dangers even Will and I cannot anticipate or prepare for. It’s pertinent for you to possess the ability to defend yourself under those circumstances, should they ever occur. So, with the knife, please—"

“Not today, Daddy,” you interrupt, and again tuck the knife into one of his loose hands. “I’m too tired for this right now. But I’m wondering... if you were forced to kill me, even if you didn’t want to, where would you cut me?”

For a moment Hannibal’s face registers surprise, and you are almost proud that you are able to elicit this emotion in him. Then his free hand goes to your neck, holding your face at a distance from his before slowly enclosing your throat in its cravat.

“Here,” says Hannibal, in a husky undertone, and as he kisses you the blade falls away in place of a new hardness against you.

You feel Will’s returning presence as a dog does an intruder in the house, turning to see his glaring jealousy pierce the distance between you. Proud and resentful— and, perhaps, still uncertain of the sexual aspect of his obsession with Hannibal Lecter—he does not invite himself into the triad as he has done before.

He would rather abstain, sneer in absence of reconciliation, make an outsider of himself in the most unnecessary fashion.

“Is this a private moment?” Will asks as you reverse with a guilty velocity from Hannibal’s lap.

“Certainly not,” says Hannibal, pushing the knife out of sight. “How was your call with Beverly? Did she have anything of interest to say?”

Will, regarding you with an unreadable expression, only says, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Meaning after you’ve gone to bed, either disinclined to let you in on their private gossip or having judged what he has heard too foul even for your seasoned ears to perceive.

Whatever the case Will is choosing to hide something from you, and you do not like it.

[lillaydee]

One More Try Part 5

Landlord Joel Miller / Reader

They say a woman is tested when her man has nothing. But a man is tested when he has everything. What happens if you both passed the test, but your partners did not?

WARNINGS:

Unplanned Pregnancy, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), SO MUCH FLUFF, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Reader was pregnant before meeting Joel, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (Not OC), Landlord Joel, No Outbreak AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 4

---

***WARNING***

Non-graphic (and possibly inaccurate) descriptions of childbirth.

I am not at all knowledgeable on the law in the US and how it works.

I also am not an expert in childbirth, or any of the possible complications that might occur during the birthing process.

So please accept any law or medical related parts in this chapter with a grain of salt and the spirit of story-telling.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy this penultimate chapter.

---

“What are you doing here?”

Laura walked over to where the three of you were standing. You took a good, long look at her. She was immaculately pretty. Face perfectly done, not a hair out of place, her skin scrubbed and well taken care of, her body was definitely a ten, looking like someone who had all the time in the world to work out, and get all primped and polished. Everything sat just so, not a crease on her expensive looking dress, not a blemish on her perfect nails and not a scratch on her shiny designer bag. She looked… expensive.

She was not the disheveled beached whale that you were, that’s for sure.

Behind you, you can hear Tommy and Maria cursing. They stood there like bodyguards, waiting to see what Joel’s ex wanted.

“Can we talk?” she asked, looking at you and the rest of his family, who were all eyeing her with stern faces, “alone?”

You got up, wanting to give them privacy. Joel took your hand in his, not letting you go.

“No, anything you want to say can be said with her here.”

“Joel, please. This is important,” she begged.

“And I’m telling you that it’s important to me that she stays,” he said, his hand now wrapping tighter around yours.

Tommy pulled Anita into the apartment, Maria following behind. Frank and Bill came down with boxes in their hands, seeing this new scene with interest, slowing down before Tommy pulled them both inside too.

Laura’s face snapped shut.

“Is she moving in with you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Joel, I made a mistake. Please don’t go through with this.”

“What’s your mistake got to do with me?”

“Sam… was not the guy I thought he would be,” she said, tentatively, her eyes still looking you up and down. “He’s been cheating on me.” Her head was bowed, unable to meet his eyes.

“I ask you again, what’s that got to do with me?”

“Joel, he’s kicking me out. He’s marrying his mistress. Laney’s nanny. All this time I thought he loved me, he said we could be a family, I thought I was doing what was best for Laney, Joel. She deserves to be with her father. But he never asked me to marry him. Laughed in my face when I ask him about marriage. Turns out he was fucking the nanny the whole time. What a cliché.”

“One more time, I ask you again, what’s that got to do with me?”

“I’d like to come back, Joel. I miss you.”

Joel was silent. You couldn’t read him at all. What was going on through his head right now? He was quiet for what felt like hours. His hand never leaving yours, rigid, firm. You brushed your thumb over his knuckles and took your other hand to rub his arm. Almost immediately, his body language softened.

“You miss me,” he said, his head shaking, almost laughing. “I take it you want me to raise Laney too?”

You stilled. Where was he going with this?

“No Joel. Sam’s keeping her. She… she has never really taken to me. He’s suing me for full custody.”

“Let me guess,” Joel laughed softly. “You let the nanny raise her?”

“Well, that’s what we pay her for, and I’m busy…”

“Oh, so you finally got a job?”

“Well… no… but I have a very busy life, Joel. It’s a full-time job to make the effort to look like this,” she said, laughing slightly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ahh…” Joel nodded, “I see. So… let me get this straight. The man you left me for grew up, and is marrying the nanny, who I assume loves and takes good care of his daughter, unlike you, and now you want to come back to me? Me? The man you left because I couldn’t provide for you? Abused you? Controlled you? Never loved you?”

“Joel, I was young, stupid. I didn’t see you for who you really were. I realize now, you loved me…”

“No, Laura, I didn’t love you. I thought I did. But that was before I knew what love really is. You’re too late, Laura. My answer is no. Please leave.”

Joel turned around to go in, and you followed. Laura surged forward towards you.

“This is all your doing, isn’t it, you shameless bitch! You think I haven’t heard about you? You think I don’t know that’s not his baby?”

Joel let go of your hand and put himself between you and Laura, taking such aggressive steps forward she shrunk back.

“Don’t you talk to her like that. Don’t you talk to her at all.”

“Joel, come on baby, you cannot tell me you would rather be with her than with me? I mean, look at her…” she spat, gesturing at your pregnant body, your less than flattering clothes, your unmanicured nails and obviously make up and maintenance free hair and face (I mean… it’s the weekend, and you’re at home watching people move your stuff, why would you need to do your hair and wear make up? Duh!)

“Laura,” Joel was speaking through calculated breaths. “Listen carefully. Even if I am not with her, I wouldn’t touch you again with a ten-foot pole. I am never, EVER going to take you back. She and I are moving in together, and I have never been happier in my life, and I am never going to let anyone take that away from me, least of all you.”

“Oh come on, Joel. She’s using you.”

“Like you were? No. Unlike you, she’s working hard to provide for that baby. Unlike you, she rejected my attempts to help, wanting to work on her problems herself. And most importantly, Laura, I WANT to raise her baby, I will love and protect that baby like she was my own, because unlike with you, I am desperately in love with her mother.”

Laura got desperate. She was crying now, clutching at his arm, trying to get him to see reason.

“Joel, please, I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t want to go back to the farm, Joel. Please. We were so good together, remember? Please give me another chance.”

Joel pulled his hand away.

“I may not be rich, or even highly educated, Laura, but even I can see that you were toxic for me. Go back home to your parents, Laura, see if they will take you back. Maybe living on that farm will help you face reality. Learn from this. Leave me and my family alone. If I see you around my family again, I will get the law involved.”

With that, Joel pulled the main door shut, locking it, leaving Laura sobbing outside in the summer heat. He escorted you inside, pushing the slightly ajar door to your new apartment, only to be greeted by five nosy faces who were pressed close to it to listen to the drama.

Joel made you sit on the couch, going into the kitchen to get you more lemonade. The newly installed AC was doing wonders for you. Tommy, Maria and Anita were just staring at Joel.

“Well, so you CAN stand up for yourself…” Tommy started, “That was impressive, brother. Should’ve done that a long time ago”. Maria nodded, remembering how miserable Joel was all those years ago, when Laura walked all over him.

Joel sat next to you, handing you your lemonade, and you couldn’t help but be proud of him. It was very clear how long he had wanted to say all those things, and how difficult it was for him to say all that in front of you. But he did it. He stood up for himself, and for you and Babygirl Bean.

“Sorry you had to hear that, Mama. I know you didn’t raise me to talk to a lady like that,” he looked sheepish.

Anita waved her hand, “Oh honey, that was no lady. I forgive you baby,” she said, looking immensely proud of her son. She clapped her hands together, “Now, lunch break?”

---

By evening, all your boxes, suitcases and furniture were in your new apartment. Everyone left after dinner, leaving you and Joel alone on the couch, reveling in the AC. You were cuddled up to him, your legs over his lap, his arms tight around your body, his lips on yours, never wanting to stop kissing you.

“So,” you began, “You are in love with me, huh?”

“Is that so surprising? Baby, I’ve been in love with you since you moved in upstairs.”

“I love you too,” you said, pulling his head down for another kiss. “I also heard you want to raise Babygirl like she was your own…”

“Of course I do. I’m in love with her Mommy,” he murmured against your lips.

“You sure you won’t regret this?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life.”

“Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Why me?”

He paused, thought for a moment, and asked you right back.

“Why me?”

---

When your pregnancy was in its 8th month, you got antsy. You basically became a writing machine, wanting to get in as much work as you can before Babygirl Bean got there. Joel still went to work, but made sure his Mama was home with you, just in case. Laura showing up scared him, worried that she might come back to hurt you. But Tommy assured him that he had it on good authority that Laura had gone back to her parent’s farm, having nowhere else to go and no one else to take her in, Sam made sure of that. A small part of Joel felt bad for her, but he knew that if he gave in and helped her, she would never leave, and he would do anything to ensure his life with you was not disrupted.

You kept your nose to your writing and Frank’s research. You had planned on a two-month leave, but Joel managed to talk you into taking six. You agreed, providing you can still do your writing during that time. He agreed. You two shook on it and everything, sealed with so many kisses. Your life with Joel went swimmingly. He hand-built all Babygirl Bean’s furniture, even stripping and repainting them three times when you changed your mind on the colors. That didn’t include repainting the nursery, the pink from all the stuff you’d been given clashing with the colors you had wanted, and he repainted twice, before you decided you just wanted white walls after all.

He was a favourite at your birthing class. The other moms kept eyeing him, even if their husbands were right there. Some single moms kept trying to get his help with things, asking him to practice their breathing with them, getting him to help carry things for them, touching his arms, complimenting his good looks. The poor man was all flustered, keeping his eye line on his feet, his hands always on you. It got so bad he just took to sticking to your side like a leech. It’s not that you were not jealous, of course you were. But there was a certain primal side to you that was extremely proud. All these hot moms and he picked you, who at this point felt as if you were much wider than you were tall. Not that he would ever tell you that. He worshiped you; he was insatiable for you. He would take you every morning, noon and night if he could. And my God did you let him. Even when you got too big, you experimented on different positions, and both of you were very willing participants.

Joel had certainly been your rock throughout your pregnancy. Whenever you needed to go to the library, he made sure he could go with you, sitting next to you, or at least in your line of sight as you worked, making sure you were alright. When you couldn’t sleep at night because you couldn’t get comfortable and became irritated as a result of it, he made sure you got whatever you needed to get some rest. You want food? He’ll cook. Tea? He’ll make it for you. A massage? Just tell him which parts needed massaging. Space? He’ll sleep on the floor – not wanting to be away from you. You always ended up begging him to come back to bed anyways, so that was that. When Babygirl Bean was particularly restless and active, he was the only one who could calm her down. Talking to her, telling her not to give you such a hard time, reading to her, singing to her, his voice always did the trick. Did the trick for you, too. You always end up falling asleep when he lulled Babygirl to sleep.

He took you to the farmer’s market every week now, taking you to brunch, letting you eat all the fruits from his plate every single time. You were so happy you were terrified something was going to happen to take it all away from you. You told Joel this one night, and he shushed you, holding you close, telling you all will be fine, he will make sure nothing bad ever happens to you. He didn’t tell you how terrified he was that that might happen, too. He laid awake at night thinking about it, just staring at your sleeping face, caressing your belly, certain that he would do anything to protect the two of you. His love for you and this unborn child was overwhelming, what if something went wrong? What if there were complications during the labour? And when Laura reappeared, he was terrified that he would cave in to her, his soft-heartedness sometimes being a barrier to his own happiness, but thankfully, he didn’t. What if Max came back? Would you be the same? Would you go back to him? The actual father of your daughter? People change. People change their minds. What if Max changed? What if you changed your mind?

At the next doctor’s appointment, he got his answer. As the two of you were waiting for Tess, Max showed up, his face the definition of gloom. Joel stood up, worried that he might do something unthinkable to you. Instead, Max offered his hand out for Joel to shake. He took it.

“Can I talk to you both?”

Joel looked at you, letting you decide. You held his arms close, not wanting to let go. You nodded. Joel sat back down, and Max sat a chair away from him, body turned to the two of you.

“I lost everything, Jules.”

“What do you mean?”

“My company. My business. Esther, the baby.”

“Something happened to Esther and the baby?” as much as you hated the woman, the thought of something bad happening to her and the baby was too much to bear.

“Well, I lost the company, my money, so I lost Esther and the baby. She ran out on me. Told me that she wasn’t even sure the baby was mine. That she wasn’t made to live in destitution. She found a better option.”

He held his head so low, you actually felt bad for the man. He took another deep breath.

“Look, I followed you here, I swear I don’t want to cause drama. But I didn’t know how else to contact you. Frank and Maria refused to give me your number. I could’ve just contacted you through Bill, but I need to tell you this myself.”

He took a deep breath.

“I know you have moved on, and I know you are happy. I am happy for you. Both of you. You two seem good together. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, Jules, shit, the way I threw you out, after everything you had done for me. Maybe this is my karma.”

You and Joel just listened; your hands clasped together. You can feel Joel holding your hand tighter, afraid to hear what might come next.

“But I would like to beg your forgiveness. I am leaving the country. There are better job opportunities for me in Asia… and my life will be unpredictable for a while. So, I wanted to give you this. Bill already looked at it, he okayed it, had it notarized, kept a copy for himself,” he fished out an envelope from his pocket, handing it to Joel. “It’s a document that relinquishes all my parental rights to the baby to you, Jules. Believe me, I am not doing this to run away from my responsibility. You might think that I am, not that I can blame you, considering what I did when I found out… but I just… I don’t know if I will come back, or if I will ever be able to be a good parent to the baby. So…” he trailed off, looking genuinely upset at what he just did.

He stood up, holding his hand out to Joel again. When Joel took it, he pulled Joel into a hug, asking him for forgiveness, begging him to please take good care of you and the baby. Telling him he’s a good man, and he’ll be a great father. He turned to you, asking softly if he could have a hug goodbye. He hugged you tight, whispering he’s sorry again and again, telling you that you will be the greatest mother, because you had a great one yourself, and that he hoped all will go well for your doctorate, that he’s proud of you and all that you had done, that you were the strongest person he knew, and hoped that someday you can think of him fondly again.

And with that, Max wiped the tears off his face, turned around and walked away, out of your life.

---

It was so hot that Friday night. You kept waking up, unable to get comfortable. Your back was killing you, your belly uncomfortably tight. You were three days past your due date. You had been having contractions on and off for a couple of days, but they hadn’t been too bad. You had woken up a very tired Joel three times in the past two weeks, convinced you were in labour, only to be told it was Braxton-Hicks contractions. The poor man was exhausted, since you had changed your mind again about the colour of the nursery wall and the furniture, not to mention he was out all day fixing this and that in the units for rent, and there was a long list of orders at his workshop. You went into the living room, switched the tv on, muted it so you wouldn’t wake Joel, and made yourself a cup of tea to help you sleep.

As you were watching some royalty discuss some arranged marriages on Netflix, a sudden, sharp pain caught your lower back, making you jump slightly. It went away after a few seconds, though. So, you got comfy and continued watching tv. About thirty minutes later, it came back, stronger this time, radiating from your back all the way around to your belly button, it lasted a while, but disappeared again. The third time it happened, you were bent double, you had to remember how to breathe. All you learnt in the birthing class flew out the window. But you really didn’t want to wake him. And by your calculations, even if this was labour, this was way too early to even go to the hospital. So, you waited it out.

You had decided to let Joel sleep in. If you were indeed in labour, you wanted him to get as much rest as he could get. Anita came over bright and early, having told you she would do so starting the week before your due date, wanting to be there in case you and Joel needed a hand. When she unlocked the door, you were on your fours, leaning against the couch, breathing deep, fending off another contraction. You told her not to wake Joel. Your contractions, if that was what they were, were still too far apart. Let him sleep. Anita helped massage your back, and things remained uneventful and calm for a couple more hours, aside from a few more contractions.

That calm lasted until Joel woke up.

When he realized you were having contractions that were bad enough that you couldn’t take them standing, he completely panicked. He ran around the apartment, grabbing useless things, stuffing them into a bag, completely forgetting that the bag had been packed and ready to go weeks prior, sitting ready by the door. Anita just watched in amusement, even recording him on her phone, gleeful that her oldest son was finally experiencing fatherhood, the way he had always wanted. You managed to stand after a particularly bad contraction, during which Joel was the one who clearly needed the breathing exercises more than you, and told him, as gently as you could, that he needed to calm down.

And then your water broke.

That definitely did not help him calm down. He had to be instructed to help you clean up and change, before needing a reminder for himself that he needed to change too. The journey to the hospital was chaotic, Joel cursing at cats and dogs crossing the streets. Damn cats. My girlfriend’s in labour! He didn’t calm down much when you actually got to the hospital, calling for attendants and nurses for a wheelchair, getting the bag from the truck and completely forgetting about you in the passenger seat, coming back for you only when the nurse at the registration counter asked where you were. You and Anita were howling with laughter, even a contraction didn’t fully stop you from laughing. Luckily, seeing you both laughing so much did calm him down, and he lifted you up from the truck, placed you gently on the wheelchair, and went back to become the reliable boyfriend you had known and loved.

Your labour was long. Tommy, Maria, Frank and Bill came by, went home, and came back again the next day, and still Babygirl Bean was nowhere near ready to come out. Anita finally told everyone to go home, and she would call when she arrived. After 48 hours, Tess gave you the dreaded news. The baby was starting to be in danger, but you were simply not dilated enough, despite the medications you were given. So, they were going to prep you for a C-Section.

You held on to Joel, scared out of your mind. Tess told him he could be in the room with you, if he’d like, and he quickly agreed. He was not going to leave your side for a second. He was shitting himself with fear, but he was determined to be strong for you and Babygirl Bean. They took him away from you to change into scrubs, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You needed his presence, his warmth to keep you calm. The nurses and Anita tried to soothe you as you were wheeled into the operating theatre, Anita holding your hand the whole way, telling you all will be well, that she will wait for you out here. You will see Joel soon, don’t worry.

When Joel returned to your side, you calmed down. His hand never left you, his eyes fixed on yours, his other hand stroking your head gently. His voice calming you down, telling you that you were the strongest person he knew, that you will get through this. That he loved you. He was right there. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Tess guided you and Joel to what was happening behind the barrier as they were happening. Her voice calm and steady, warning you of what you would be feeling, what she was doing, what had happened, and finally, she said the magic words.

“Babygirl is out.”

There was silence for a couple of seconds, and the room was rewarded with the screaming cries from a pair of very healthy lungs.

When she was brought to you, you felt as if you had known her all your life, and yet, this was your first meeting. You knew right there and then, you would do anything for her, die for her. She was everything your life had led to. It was then that you realized, as much as you loved Joel, you did not regret what you went through with Max, because it had led you to this perfect little girl in your arms. You felt this overwhelming feeling of love for this little girl that you had never felt before. A love that will keep on filling your heart, never spilling.

It seemed that she knew you too; her cries began to recede when she was placed on your chest, but when Joel spoke in his low baritone, saying hi to her for the first time, she stopped crying. Her tiny eyes opened, searching for that familiar voice that had always calmed her. Both of you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. She was perfect. Your sight got blurry from tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Joel couldn’t stop kissing the top of your head, whispering to you that she’s here, she’s perfect, she looks exactly like you, I’m so proud of you baby, you did it. His voice cracking from his own tears, his thumb stroking your baby’s face, telling her she’s perfect over and over.

“Would you like to cut the cord, Dad?” Tess asked. Joel looked at you, looking for permission, excitement on his face.

You nodded.

Once the cord was cut, you handed her to Joel. He held the tiny newborn in his arms, his size making her look tinier than she really was and kissed her over and over on her gooey forehead.

You swore your heart just about exploded at the sight.

So this was what happiness felt like.

You closed your eyes, contentment and happiness filling your soul.

And then the room was filled with the still sound of the flatline alarm from your heart monitor.

---

The calm, emotional mood in the room turned to chaos. You had flatlined. A nurse came and took Babygirl Bean away from Joel. He was at your side within seconds, panic in his eyes. You were feeling lightheaded, your worst fear had come true; you were not going to see your daughter grow up. You held on to Joel’s hand, he was asking over and over, what is happening? You kept telling him you loved him, please love her like she was his own, please love her enough for the both of you. Please don’t let anything happen to her. He kissed your hand over and over, no baby, don’t talk like that. You are going to be fine. You are not going anywhere. Please baby don’t leave me.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!!!” Tess’s voice boomed.

The room fell silent, save for the shrill monotone from the monitor, telling everyone your heart had stopped beating.

Eh? But you were still leaving your last will and testament to a crying Joel.

“I am not seeing any problems in here and she still has a steady BP. Why is the monitor flatlining?”

A nurse came to your side, searching for something, bent down and picked up a lose wire from the floor.

You had knocked your heart monitor line off.

Oh.

---

God, your daughter was so cute.

She had to be the cutest baby in the whole wide world, right?

Anita bogarted the baby, tears in her eyes, you are Nana’s favourite girl, she said. I love you, I love you, I love you so, so much.

Maria was practically swooning, trying to steal her from Anita’s firm grasp, it’s Auntie Maria’s turn now Babygirl… Nana needs to let go of her… Auntie Maria needs her dose of Babygirl!!!

Tommy was speechless throughout his visit. When Joel handed your baby to him, he sat stock still, so afraid he might break her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, whispering to her, you’re so cute. You’re too cute for your own good. You are going to be so spoiled Babygirl, no one would ever be good enough for you. Uncle Tommy’s got you Babygirl. You just tell me who hurt you and I will take care of it.

Frank was surprisingly calm, holding her like he had held babies in his arms all his life. You make sure your mommy and daddy read to you, okay? Good books. I’ll teach you to draw Babygirl, you have beautiful hands. You will be so artsy; I will make sure of it. You make sure you come see me when your Mommy comes to see me okay? Or else, I will come kidnap you at home!!! Uncle Bill would just have to deal with it, right Uncle Bill?

Bill’s reaction was the most surprising of all. The usually quiet, grumpy, stoic man burst into tears as soon as Frank gently placed your baby in his arms. He was so overwhelmed he couldn’t even speak. Just stared at her for so long through his sobs until Joel decided he missed having his Babygirl Bean in his arms again and took her from him.

He got in bed with you and placed her gently in your arms.

The room fell silent. Tommy and Maria took pictures of what they all saw – a family.

---

That night, after the everyone had left and your baby had been taken to the nursery, the two of you laid in your bed, much to the chagrin of Nurse Grumpy Pants. But she told you that you needed rest, and rest for you required your personal human heater, Joel Miller, wrapped around you.

“Honey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Would you be okay if I put you on the birth certificate?”

“As the father?”

“As HER father.”

He kissed you.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

“Yes? It’s a hell yeah!”

“So, you’ll help me register the birth certificate tomorrow?”

“Of course. Is it still your mother’s name? With your last name, right?”

“I’m thinking I’d like the last name hyphenated now, if you don’t mind.”

He kissed you again. Long and sweet, his thumb brushing your cheek for a while, before he took his hand away, and placed it in your hand, along with something hard, covered in soft velvet.

There was a ring box in your hand.

He kept his face next to yours, his calming voice not even above a whisper in the quiet room.

“Will you marry me? Do me the honour of making me your husband? I cannot see my life without you and Babygirl Bean anymore. I want to be your husband, be her dad. I want to marry you, I want to adopt her, make you both mine, officially. Because baby, I am yours and Babygirl Bean’s. My heart belongs to the both of you. Make me the happiest man on earth? Please? Marry me?”

You took his face in your hands, kissed him deep, your tears mingling with each other’s. The world was silent. There was just the two of you in this moment. It may not have been the most romantic proposal that he had originally planned, but the moment felt right. When you both broke the kiss, he searched your wet teary face with anticipation.

“Yes.”

---

Ellie Williams-Miller was brought home two days later, and it was clear from the start that she was daddy’s little girl. She would spend hours in Joel’s arms, needing to hear his voice to fall asleep, having gotten used to it in utero. He, in turn, was completely in love with his new daughter. You have a picture of him laid out on his tummy next to her on your bed, his face turned towards her, and hers, his, just watching her sleep, love in his eyes. He had taken to fatherhood like fish to water. It was as if this was the reason for his existence.

The two of you got married a little less than two months later, a small ceremony in his mama’s backyard, just family and close friends. Ellie was, of course, the ring bearer, with the help of a very willing Uncle Bill. You had gone to the courthouse the day after to register your marriage, and for Joel to sign papers to adopt Ellie, now officially his Babygirl, not that there was ever a doubt that she was.

You had planned a short honeymoon for the three of you. You had your final post-partum appointment with Tess the morning you were due to leave and came home to Anita and Maria waiting for you in the living room. They were taking Ellie with them for the duration. What? No! Joel would never agree to this. But Joel came out of the room, a bag in his hand, and handed it over to Maria. He had planned this. You were conflicted. You had left Ellie with Anita and Maria before, but never overnight. Joel pulled you aside, telling you it’s alright, it’s only a few days, and they will take good care of her. It’s our honeymoon, baby. Let’s enjoy ourselves, alone. Let me spoil my wife, hmm?

When you thought of what he said, and the conversation you just had with Tess, you reluctantly agreed. So, you said a teary goodbye to a clueless Ellie, who was so happy to see her Nana and Auntie Maria she didn’t even notice she was being taken away. You spent the next hour getting ready to leave, sobbing the whole time. You were crying so hard even Joel had second thoughts, almost going over to his Mama’s to get Ellie back. Joel picked up your suitcases to put in his truck, ready to start your journey, but you stopped him. You forgot to pack something. Go wait in the truck. You will be right out.

The truth was you were heartbroken to separate from Ellie. But he was right. It’s your honeymoon. It should be about just the two of you.

What you didn’t tell him was, you were terrified. You and Joel had never been alone together since you gave birth. You had been pregnant throughout your relationship, but now that you were no longer with child, you were worried about what he might think of your body, sans baby. You had the privilege and security of being pregnant for any… jiggly bits your body might have before. And the two of you hadn’t had sex since before Ellie was born. In fact, Joel had never seen you fully naked since you gave birth. You were so insecure with how your body looked you opted to change with the doors closed.

Also, your relationship being more on the unconventional side, you had never really flirted, or even seduced him. You hadn’t done that in a long time, not since you were much younger, much more confident and had the perfect figure with Max. You and Joel had sort of fell in love without much flirting, just going along with the rhythm, and you being pregnant had not helped with your self-confidence, often feeling too silly, awkward and huge to flirt with him. And the way your body betrayed you during pregnancy was not exactly romance and seduction adjacent – you had been gassy and swollen throughout, poor Joel having to endure all your farting and burping and constant peeing and constipation throughout your pregnancy, all of which happened in the early stages of your budding relationship. So, no. Romance was not exactly an area you were an expert in.

But now, you two were headed for your honeymoon, alone. And Tess had given you the all clear this morning. As nervous as you were, you wanted your husband. So badly. So, while Joel was putting his suitcase in the truck, you went to your closet, fished out a small paper bag you had hidden at the back of it, and quickly shoved it in your suitcase. You decided you will just have to endure it all, do your best at seducing your ridiculously good-looking and sexy husband, and hope for the best.

The journey only took a couple of hours. Joel had rented out a small cabin by a beautiful lake in a small-town resort just outside the city. Throughout the drive, he held you hand, making small talks with you. He asked you how the appointment with Tess went that morning. Fine, you said. Everything going as it should. You can tell he wanted to ask you more, but you changed the subject, wanting to surprise him.

The cabin was beautiful. You had a gorgeous view of the lake and surrounding mountains from the balcony, a fireplace, and a huge bathtub. After a quick phone call to check in on Ellie (you didn’t want a video call, in case you change your mind), Joel asked you to get ready for dinner. He had made reservations at the restaurant, eager to take his wife on a first proper romantic night out. You two had never been on one, you always busy with your schoolwork. So, your dates so far had consisted of going to the farmer’s market and perhaps a dinner or two at your favourite restaurant.

You got ready in the bathroom, as usual, wearing your surprise for him under the dark red dress that you had brought. Even the dress was making your nervous. You had only been wearing the most comfortable maternity wear every time you two had gone out, not figure-hugging dresses. So, when you opened the door to the bathroom, you hoped to God Joel would like what he saw.

You stood in the doorway, one arm leaning on the door, the other on your waist, legs slightly crossed to show off your dress.

The two of you stared each other up and down. He was dressed in a black dress pants, a dark red dress shirt tucked into it, the sleeves rolled up his arms. He looked… delectable. He in turn, was staring at you with his mouth slightly open, unable to say anything, swallowing visibly, before clearing his throat, asking if you’re ready to go. A small part of you deflated. Did he not like what he saw? But as you were stepping off the deck, he took your hand in his, kissed it, and said, “you look beautiful, baby,” a small smile on his face.

Seduction attempt one – not quite so successful, but not too bad.

You’ll take it.

Dinner was delicious, and so romantic. The restaurant was set up for romantic dinners. Dim lighting, candles everywhere, soft music playing. You two were sat opposite one another, your legs entwined underneath the table, his hand holding yours. You made small talks, but you wanted to warm him up for later, so you took your shoes off, and brush your foot up his legs. He flinched slightly, before removing his leg out of the way. But before you could feel rejected, he traced his finger on your arm, looking at you with his soft eyes, and told you he loved you. “Happy Honeymoon, Baby,” he whispered, before kissing your hand again.

Seduction attempt two – kinda worse than attempt one, but still not too bad.

You’ll take it.

He led you to the dance floor and led you in a slow dance, softly swaying you side to side, kissing your hairline, telling you that he felt like the luckiest man in the world. But when you pressed your body up to his, wanting to kiss him properly, he jumped away from you, and said he needed the restroom real quick. When he returned, he gave you a quick peck on the lips, another on your cheek and kissed you on the hand, saying you should probably head back.

Seduction attempt three – that felt like a fail, but you did get a kiss out of it. So, maybe, not too bad?

You were beginning to feel defeated, but you’ll take it.

You took the long path back to the cabin, walking hand in hand in the dimly lit path along the lake, just savouring the night. It was quiet, but it sure was not in your head. You were on your honeymoon, and your husband was acting all jittery whenever you attempted to get close to him. Did he not want you anymore? Oh God, it’s the dress isn’t it? You’re fat. He didn’t like seeing your fat ass in the tight dress. That’s it, isn’t it? How dare he? How dare he not want you? You can barely breathe in this stupid outfit, and he didn’t want you? Hmph. You’ll show him. You’ll show him what he’s missing.

When you got back in the cabin, you waited until he had shut the door, before jumping him.

You pressed him up against the door, got on your tippy toes and kissed the living daylight out of him. You can feel his breathing change, his crotch hardening, but he was still… not really reciprocating. You can feel him holding back, his hand was back to their original limit - at your waist only. You could feel him getting hard, but his body was rigid, he wasn’t returning your kiss the way a man who had not had sex with his wife in two months should be.

Seduction attempt four – most definitely a fail.

You can’t take it anymore.

You stopped kissing him, took your shoes off and walked off into the bedroom defeatedly. You sat on the bed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He came in, stopped just inside the doorway, a worried look on his face. What’s wrong baby?

“You don’t find me sexy anymore, do you? I'm fat, right? You don't like my body anymore?"

He was kneeling in front of you in seconds. His hands on your face.

“What are you talking about? All I want is you. Baby, you're beautiful. All of you.”

“Then why do you not want to touch me?”

“Baby, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. You just gave birth two months ago, you had major surgery, I thought we had to wait?”

“Yeah, but Tess gave me the all-clear this morning.”

His eyes turned dark. “She did?”

“Yeah, and I wanted to surp…umph…”

His lips were on you, climbing up the bed with you, his hips between your legs, his arms on your ass, lifting you higher up the bed. He hovered over you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, she said I’m healed, I even asked her to put me on birth control.”

“So, I don’t need a condom?” he sounded hopeful.

“Nope.”

He lowered himself on you, his erection evident between your legs. You couldn’t help it, you canted your hips up to his, chasing the delicious friction it was giving you. He groaned, moving his hips with yours, wanting to make you feel good.

“Driving me crazy,” he said as he peppered kisses all over your face, jaw, neckline. “Want you so badly, you look delicious baby. So fucking hot and sexy in your little dress. Teasing me, rubbing yourself all over me. Got so hard I had to get myself off in the restroom.”

You pushed him off you.

“What? Was that what you were doing after the dance?”

He smiled sheepishly, “I was so desperate for you it only took a few strokes. Couldn’t walk around paying the bill with a raging hard on could I?”

Damn Miller, way to make your wife feel sexy. You got off the bed. He followed, but you pushed him back to sit at the edge.

“Well, I have a surprise for you, Mr Miller.”

You leaned down on him, and kissed him breathless, before turning around and asking him to unzip you. You smiled when you noticed his hand was shaking, his heavy breaths filling the quiet room with anticipation. You took a few steps forward, and shimmied out of your tight dress, bending down as you did so, your thong clad ass fully in view for him to see.

It’s gone quiet. You can’t hear him breathe anymore.

You turned around slowly, and there was your husband, holding his breath, his jaw slack, his eyes roving all over your body, now only covered in a pair of see-through lingerie made of delicate white lace, unable to decide where to look first or next, his hands white knuckled on the sheets next to him, his pants dangerously tented.

“Baby? Do you like it?”

He gasped, finally broken out of his daze, but still unable to speak or move.

When you got in between his legs, his hands seemed to work again, grabbing your ass, running them all over your body, pulling you down on him, kissing you breathless. He shuffled up the bed, and you followed, getting on top of him, lips still together. You grinded your hips over his clothed erection, earning a long, deep moan from him, but you were not planning on stopping. Shit he felt good, even clothed. His breath was ragged, so were yours. His hands stayed on your hips, helping you grind yourself on him, as you climbed higher and higher, coming with a wail of his name. He didn’t even give you the time to come down, flipping you over, before very quicky standing up, taking his clothes off, almost toppling over trying to get his socks off.

He climbed up to you, got between your legs, taking in your smell over the skimpy white lace covering your mound, rubbing his nose all over your sensitive nub. So pretty, he whispered. You shivered in anticipation. He traced the thong with his fingers, before ripping it right off you. He looked at you from between your legs, something he hadn’t been able to do the last few months you had sex and ravaged you. His eyes were closed, savouring the experience, thoroughly destroying you layer by layer, making you see stars, galaxies, and beyond. Your legs were shaking by the time he was done, your entire body so lax and pliant, you were convinced you were made from jelly. Your aftershocks lasted forever, and he slowly made his way to your lace covered peaks, while his hands tried to soothe you from your high.

He teased your nipples through the lace until they were stiff, telling you these were pretty, maybe he’ll spare them, so you’ll wear them again. But he sucked on one of your nipples, and tasted your sweet, sweet milk… and that was it… bye-bye expensive lace bras. He tore them off you, complaining that they were in the way. He traced his tongue on your leaking nipples. One more look at you, may I? You nodded.

And he wrapped his lips around one peak, gently sucking on it. When a burst of milk erupted into his mouth, he moaned, his face full of pleasure, his breath heavy, and he brought his hand to the other breast, pinching its peak between his fingers. You were writhing. The way he was drinking from you had you weak, joy and need clearly evident all over his face. He switched when the flow slowed, and groaned so loudly when the other source gave him more of that sweet nectar, his hips rutting onto yours, so you reached down, and guided him into your entrance.

You both fell silent when he pushed in, mouths hanging open, eyes closed. Joel stayed still in you when he had pushed all the way through. Fuck baby, I missed this. I missed being inside you. You feel so good baby, fuck… I love you. I love you so much. You were babbling, feeling so full, so good, you couldn’t form a coherent string of sentences. You wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting him to leave, both of you just breathing together, kissing each other whispering sweet nothings to each other.

When he finally moved, it was with so much tenderness. You felt his absolute love and devotion whenever he made love to you. Whispers of love, of ecstasy, the need for each other filled your ears as you two moved together, faster and faster, until there was nothing left but bliss.

Needless to say, the two of you didn’t partake in any of the romantic activities Joel had planned for the trip, thinking that sex was not part of the option. You spent your days making love, ordering room service (but it’s expensive Joel!), taking advantage of that huge bathtub and being naked the entire time.

It was almost as if you were on your honeymoon, and your husband loved your post-partum body after all, and you were worried for nothing.

---

Maria was busy running after the kids, the twins had escaped from their father and was busy chasing after a duck. Your youngest joined them, gleefully waddling after her cousins to join in on the duck chasing fun. Ellie was busy drawing flowers and bugs with her Uncles Bill and Frank, and their newly adopted girl. You were giving Anita a much-needed foot massage, having been on her feet all day keeping up with her overly active grandchildren. Joel and Tommy were manning the grill, having ridiculous brotherly arguments about how best to flip a burger.

When the burgers were ready, the kids wrangled up, the adults taken a breath, the small family sat at their picnic tables, sharing food, drinks, stories and laughter as family would. All of you had made these getaways a yearly event, taking time out of your busy work life to just enjoy each other’s company.

The family had grown since it started. Maria and Tommy got married, and their twin boys Jack and Daniel, now three years old, arrived a year later. Sarah Williams-Miller joined your small family not a few months after that. Ellie, now six, was besotted with her baby sister. Frank and Bill, now a permanent part of your family, adopted their little girl, five-year-old Dina a few months ago, she and Ellie already causing havoc wherever they go. Anita lived with you and Joel now, the two of you bought a new house with a mother-in-law suite not far from campus where you are now proudly teaching.

Ellie and Sarah were both Daddy’s little girls. Joel had always said he was born to be a girl dad, and he had fulfilled that role proudly. Ellie was always more interested in paints and music than make up, but since Sarah arrived, he was often going to work with his nails painted and his hair clad in flowery clips just in case his girls video called. He had cleaned his nails and taken the clips off for work one time, when Anita video called him for the girls. When Sarah realized her Daddy had taken her special paintings and clips off, she cried with such heartbreak that Ellie didn’t speak to him for hours when he got home for making Sarah cry. It broke his heart. So, the man endured the teasing he received at work and resorted to walking around the house with his hair tied in various neon coloured rubber bands and his face painted with fake make-up, just to appease his youngest girl, and her more tomboy-ish big sister by extension.

When the kids had gone to bed, the adults went about savouring the quiet and peace, Frank and Bill chose to read, Anita was knitting, Tommy and Maria went for a walk by the lake.

You stood at the edge of the water, looking at the moonlit view, thinking about how much your life had changed in seven short years. When you came home that fateful day, finding your two suitcases packed, you had thought that your life had ended. Little did you know that your life had just begun. That heartbreaking day had led you to this day. How happy you were now, how content. A pair of warm hands made their way around your waist, followed by the solid warmth that was your husband’s body pressed against your back, and a kiss behind your ear, which then trailed down to your neck, the hands beginning to travel to naughtier bits.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mr Miller?”

“Just showing my wife how much I love her, Dr Miller.”

You turned around and hugged him tight.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For loving me.”

“Not a hardship baby. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“I love you, so much.”

As he kissed you silly, you closed your eyes, quietly grateful that you decided to be brave, and give love one more try.

The End

[wlwcatalogue]

A few sapphic film recs!

Just a few recommendations for sapphic films under 2 hours which may or may not have flown under the radar:

Moonlit Winter / 윤희에게 (1hr 45m, 2019, dir. Lim Dae-hyung)

Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (1hr 48m, 2017, dir. Angela Robinson)

Who's the Woman, Who's the Man / 金枝玉葉 2 (1hr 50m, 1996, dir. Peter Ho-Sun Chan)

Sisterhood / 骨妹 (1hr 37m, 2016, dir. Tracy Choi)

DEBS (1hr 31m, 2004, dir. Angela Robinson)

Farewell, My Queen / Les adieux à la reine (1hr 40m, 2012, dir. Benoît Jacquot)

Bonus - short film: Love Does Human / 사람 하는 사랑 (24 mins, 2019, dir. Oh Seon-ju)

Commentary under the cut!

1. Moonlit Winter / 윤희에게 (1hr 45m, 2019, dir. Lim Dae-hyung) - IMDB | MyDramaList

This movie is about a daughter (Kim So-hye) who finds out about her divorced mother’s (Kim Hee-ae) past with another woman (Katase Jun), and how in encouraging her mother to reconnect, the two finally open up to each other as well. Dry stuff on paper, but there’s more to it: the mother and her former lover didn’t just break up, they were split apart by their families as teenagers and the mother was forced to marry a man against her will. In short, it deals with the aftermath of the typical “bad ending” of older stories featuring WLW characters, wherein schoolgirls in love would be separated and married off to preserve the heteronormative status quo.

Although the queer relationship does not get much screentime at all – the two characters share a single scene, there are no flashbacks, and there’s not even a hug – queerness remains at the heart of the movie. It’s a rare depiction of how the repression of queerness leaves scars on people which affect how they engage with the world, but which also shows that as long as they are alive, there is still hope that those scars can be healed. Also, despite the heavy-sounding subject matter, it’s a very gentle experience: there are no direct depictions of homophobia and no sensationalism, just a little story of human connection unfolding in a snow-cloaked Hokkaido.

2. Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (1hr 48m, 2017, dir. Angela Robinson) - IMDB

The blurb on IMDB says that this movie is about “psychologist William Moulton Marston (Luke Evans), and his polyamorous relationship with his wife [Elizabeth] (Rebecca Hall) and their mistress [Olive] (Bella Heathcote) who would inspire his creation of the superheroine, Wonder Woman”. As someone who is not particularly drawn to biopics, male protagonists, polyamory, BDSM, or Wonder Woman, I assumed that this movie wouldn’t be my jam and so didn’t watch it until quite a while later – which is when I discovered just how wrong I was.

First, the two women take up just as much of the movie’s focus as Marston. Elizabeth, Marston’s wife and fellow psychologist, is highly intelligent but equally highly-strung; she does not know how to deal with her husband’s attraction to new research assistant Olive, nor Olive’s attraction to both her husband and Elizabeth herself, and this internal conflict (even after the three enter into a polyamorous relationship) features heavily in the story. Second, although it declares itself to be “based on a true story”, the movie is not especially interested in recreating or representing the past. Rather, the historical elements are used as a framework to explore certain ideas: Diana’s Lasso of Truth symbolises how progress and healing must be first founded upon honesty, for example. The polyamory and BDSM is also not at all sordid or sensationalised, but rather presented in a nuanced (though still sexy!) manner. More than anything, this is a movie with a big heart and big ideas, and should be judged on its own merits.

3. Who's the Woman, Who's the Man / 金枝玉葉 2 (1hr 50m, 1996, dir. Peter Ho-Sun Chan) - IMDB | MyDramaList

All you need to know going into this sequel of 1994 movie He's a Woman, She's a Man (金枝玉葉) is that main character Wing (Anita Yuen) is a woman who has found both fame and (heterosexual) love while disguising herself as a male idol, and that her relationship with record producer Sam (Leslie Cheung) is known to the general public— although it is perceived as being homosexual in nature due to her persona. At this point, you might be wondering why an M/F romantic comedy is on this list, but this movie is a bit odd in that instead of focusing only on problems such Sam’s internalised homophobia and misogyny (both of which are addressed in the story), one of the new obstacles facing the couple is the female lead meeting female pop star Fong Yim Mui (Anita Mui)… and both starting to fall for each other.

I was surprised at how sensitively Wing and Fong Yim Mui’s respective arcs are handled, especially for a mainstream movie from the 90’s starring two of Hong Kong’s most popular performers at the time. Instead of giving the two women a meet-cute and leaving it at that, a lot of care is put into showing them processing and coming to terms with their feelings in their own time. Romantic and sexual attraction is also highlighted separately, which is refreshing given how they are usually depicted as inextricably linked even now… Obviously Wing and Fong Yim Mui don’t end up together, but their feelings aren’t dismissed and – relative to the narrative constraints – the ending is a warm, optimistic one. Also, Anita Mui gives an absolutely award-worthy performance in one of the scenes with her character and Wing, so fans of her should definitely give this movie a try.

Important note: Although there’s much that’s good about it, Who's the Woman, Who's the Man is far from perfect. Early on, there’s a masquerade party where two of the characters are wearing masks which look like racist caricatures, and the masks are crop up in multiple scenes in the film. More serious is the subplot about a male character who keeps trying to win over a lesbian, culminating in her agreeing to sleep with him once while he’s dressed as a woman (CW: transphobia, homophobia) – though this storyline ends with the man accepting that she really is gay and parting on friendly terms. That said, these problems are already mild compared to the actively hateful transphobic and homophobic jokes present in so many of its contemporaries, so if you’ve watched a 90’s Hong Kong comedy before, chances are that your tolerance level is more than high enough.

4. Sisterhood / 骨妹 (1hr 37m, 2016, dir. Tracy Choi) IMDB | MyDramaList

Sisterhood opens with tragedy. Originally from Macau, main character Sei (Gigi Leung) is living quietly in Taiwan with her husband after the 1999 Handover when her life is overturned by a newspaper personal ad informing her that her long-estranged friend and colleague Ling has passed away. The movie is shot through with flashbacks to earlier times, tracking a young Sei (Fish Liew) as she starts doing sex work and is taken under the wing of the more experienced Ling (Jennifer Yu) and her friends. Memories of togetherness and community are juxtaposed against sequences of present-day Sei struggling to navigate her grief, the tensions of the now-fractured friend group, and a Macau that has changed just as much as she has. The acting and script can be clunky in places but the sentiment shines through, especially after the first third, at which point the movie starts honing in on Sei and Ling’s relationship. It’s not a happy story, but nor is it defined by sadness; instead, it posits that the past is not merely to be mourned, that it is instead something that can shape and provide a foundation for the future. I won't talk too much about how queerness figures into this story, due to spoilers, but rest assured that it is present and important!

5. D.E.B.S. (1hr 31m, 2004, dir. Angela Robinson) - IMDB

Okay, you've probably heard of this one before if not watched it already, but anyway! This was the first WLW movie I watched, and for a long time, the only one which I actually enjoyed. It’s about an elite spy (well, more like an honours student at spy school) (Sara Foster) and a criminal mastermind (Jordana Brewster) falling for each other, a premise which is just as fun and over-the-top as it sounds. The movie does a great job of mixing action, humor, and romance, and it doesn’t overstay its welcome – it’s got a nice compact runtime and a cracking pace. There’s still nothing quite like it in my opinion, though I’m very welcome to any recommendations in this line (my askbox is open if you have any!).

6. Farewell, My Queen / Les adieux à la reine (1hr 40m, 2012, dir. Benoît Jacquot) - IMDB

Loosely based on Chantal Thomas’ novel of the same name, Farewell, My Queen is a portrait of French nobility in decline, following maidservant Sidonie Labarde (Léa Seydoux) who is in the service of Marie Antoinette (Diane Kruger). It's a beautiful, lavish production which effectively conveys the perspective of a servant locked in the gilded cage that is Versailles during the French Revolution, and is a rare case of a historical figure as famous as Antoinette being presented as queer in a serious historical drama.

That being said, the queerness is mostly background, coming mainly in the form of Antoinette’s crush on? relationship with? duchess Gabrielle de Polignac (Virginie Ledoyen)— though a case can be made for Sidonie, whose outward opacity belies an unwavering, almost unsettling, devotion to her queen. Also, be warned that the movie has many a dodgy shot of cleavage, and two instances of unnecessary and voyeuristic nudity... but other than that, it really does have gorgeous cinematography.

Fun fact: there really were rumours about Antoinette having a scandalous relationship with the duchess, although these have nearly always been written off as baseless reputation-smearing.

Bonus - short film: Love Does Human / 사람 하는 사랑 (24 mins, 2019, dir. Oh Seon-ju) - MyDramaList

Some say that the best science fiction puts a spotlight on some part of the human condition, and this short film does just that. Main character Tae Eun's (Kim Min-ju) girlfriend Joo An (Jang Sam-yi) no longer has a human body: after carrying out a medical operation which transferred her consciousness to a computer system, she now has a web-camera for her eyes, a speaker for her mouth, and control over their home's devices for her hands. And although the change was by Joo An's choice and Tae Eun was supportive, the pair struggle to adjust to this new reality, and are confronted with the need to communicate and to consider each other's perspectives. Love Does Human has a bit of a slow start, and there were points where I didn't understand why the characters were reacting in a certain way, but it all comes together beautifully in the end. Through its sci-fi premise, viewers are encouraged to think about real-life problems using a different angle, and the movie never gets too heavy. Also, shoutout to some excellent voice work from the two actors - Joo An is performed nearly entirely through voice but she feels deeply human and present, and Tae Eun's actor also has a standout scene featuring some great voice acting. All in all, it's a short film that's well worth checking out (especially since the director has made it available for free, with English subtitles, on Youtube - embedded above)!

[armoricaroyalty]

...the turning point came in 1994, when Uspanian tabloid Concordia broke the story of the Crown Prince's affair with Armorican-Uspanian actress and model Anita Garcia. The Armorican public loves a wronged woman, and news of the affair inspired a massive public outpouring of support for the Duchess of Arbor. By the end of 1994, her approval rating had climbed to 73%, the highest ever recorded for any member of the Armorican royal family....Her newfound popularity came not at the expense of her husband, whose status as heir protected him from the worst of the blacklash, but at that of his 23-year-old mistress. Anita was branded as a homewrecker in the popular press and accused of leveraging the affair to promote her own image... (from Mother of Pearl: Inside the Lives of Armorica's Royal Women, Kristina Greene, 2002.)

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Chapter 3

[omg-hellgirl]

Bianca faced a tough adversary in Anita Pallenberg, who took an instant dislike to Mick's new mistress. With Marianne Faithfull out of the picture Pallenberg wielded more influence than ever before within the Stones' inner circle.

Christopher P. Andersen, Jagger Unauthorized.

[pigeonwhumps]

"Outside"

I wanted to introduce Somaia and Cecilia, so new characters for today's entry. Partially inspired by @gottawhump's post about some countries freeing pets automatically, which finally gave me the last link in Maia and Ceci's story (running a refuge in the Netherlands, Maia's home country, which is primarily for pets but does take in abuse victims and the like too sometimes) so ty for that!

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump @bbu-on-the-side

Ceci talks to Bless about going outside.

572 words

CWs: BBU, pet whump, dehumanisation (past and self)

"It's irresponsible and bordering on cruel to set people free with absolutely nothing, no legal identity, in many cases not even any knowledge of the language. Tortured into being unable to care for themselves. That's why we've partnered with the police, to give victims somewhere to go and someone to assist them as soon as their former owners are arrested."

Ceci places the mug of black coffee next to Maia with a pat on the arm where she's interviewing with the local news and squeezes past, towards the stairs and the balcony that accompanies the second floor.

Sure enough, Bless is sitting cross-legged out there, looking longingly over the beautiful bridges and buildings of Amsterdam. They've been doing that for a week.

"You can go out into the city, you know," says Ceci. "You're not property anymore. You don't need permission."

Bless is quiet. They're often quiet, but in a thoughtful way, like they're picking the perfect words. Perfect, perfect, perfect, all the time, and Ceci knows how they feel.

"It would be improper. I need supervision, because I'm too stupid to go out on my own. And pets don't get to go into the proper outdoors anyway."

Ceci closes her eyes for half a second. It hurts, every time a victim comes out with something like that. Even the ones who aren't pets, the abuse victims or runaways, their self-esteem is always so low.

She sits down next to Bless.

"Who told you that isn't the proper outdoors?"

"My Mistress' brother, ma'am." A pause. "Cecilia. My apologies."

"No worries. What exactly did he say?"

"That pets are too stupid to go outside properly. That's why there are places we can't go. And we need a leash when we go out in some places so really, we're not going outside properly."

"Well that's not true. There's plenty of restrictions on different groups of people, that doesn't make you stupid. Although regardless, you're not property anymore. You can go outside as much as you like."

Bless' wide eyes turn to look up at her. "Into the city?"

"Into the city."

"Can we go tomorrow?"

"Yes. Although I hasten to add that I'm accompanying you, not supervising you. You don't need supervision."

Bless' brow crinkles slightly as they turn back to the city. It's only the morning now, there would be time today, but they obviously need today to prepare, which Ceci understands.

Ceci makes a mental note to tell Bless later that pets are illegal in Amsterdam, and to take them somewhere that that's clearly labelled. Make sure that Bless knows they're not stupid, they don't need leashes and supervision. They should know. And it hurts to hear what they think about themself at the moment.

She's glad they picked up Bless straight from the police. It was Maia's idea to partner with them despite her distrust, and Ceci thinks it's helping. It's better than letting ex-pets continue to be abandoned when their owners are arrested, at least. That's what happened to multiple of their residents. Bless is the first to come to them through the partnership.

Maybe it's about time she contacted Theo and Max again. They're better at this than she is, maybe they have some tips for Bless. Or Anita or Ade might have advice for the increased publicity she and Maia are likely to receive now, after today's interview.

Increased publicity for them, and for their refuge. Oh, joy.

[pulpman2]

Zorro

“Gaah! Get that damned hound off me!” Felix almost shrieked as Zorro came bounding towards him, teeth bared. He waved his gun in the direction of the dog, hoping to fend it off before it could spring at him. Anita reacted fast. “He only listens to me,” she told her terrified captor urgently, “and he’s not scared of anything. As soon as you drop your guard, he’ll be on you!” As if to back up his mistress’ words, Zorro growled from deep within his throat at Anita’s adversary. Felix, who had a fear of dogs going back to his childhood, gazed at the animal, his face contorted. “I could shoot the beast…” he warned. Anita’s eyes widened in alarm, but she did not panic. “You could…” she agreed carefully, “but if you miss or only wound him, I promise you, it will be the last thing you do!”

Felix looked at the red headed detective desperately. “Then what do I do?” he asked the bound woman almost beseechingly. Anita’s reply was immediate. “You untie me and hand me the gun.” she calmly told the man who continued to gaze in terror at Zorro. “Only then do I tell him to calm down.” Felix looked from woman to the Great Dane in a panic, as Zorro raised his claws threateningly towards the man. It was too much for Felix. “Yes! Anything!” he replied. “But then what?” Anita’s glossed lips came together in a satisfied smile. “Then I tie you up, you arrogant creep!” she grinned. “And let’s see how you like it!” Felix didn’t know whether the fear of the dog was worse than the shame of being outwitted by this damned female private eye. Zorro growled loudly again. “All right, all right - you win, damn you!” he exclaimed at last and threw his gun to the floor, so it landed at Anita’s feet, and he began to shuffle towards the tied up woman to release her.

My interpretation of the story behind the cover to The Lady Regrets by James M Fox (1947).

[boundbimbos]

[jinxthejubilee]

Hey it's been a while! I wanted to ask a question in a universe where the DVRs got a happily ever after with their movie's heroes/princesses but since I don't really know how some would somehow leave their villain halfway through the film and be a part of the good side (like for example is Ms Hades becomes part of Hercules' family or something instead of tied to Hades) so I'll instead ask this: What do you think will take for the princesses to fall for the male recruiters? This mostly for Malfie and Aurora and Snow White and Apple Poison (I actually don't know where you stand in that ship tbh). Joe and Ariel can be added as romantic or platonic if you chose to since I understand you aren't the biggest fan from what I've seen!

Hey! Welcome back. Sorry it took a while to get back to you. Before I answer your question, allow me clarify my take on their relationships first:

Depending on how you view Malfie's age, I can see him and Aurora getting together. Once again, I personally see the recruiters as young adults, but given their personalities, I can see Jack, Dalma, Pretty Scar, and Malfie as older teens.

Snow White and Apple Poison is an interesting case. Despite the popular rumor, Snow is not 14 years old. She was never given a direct age. But given the canonical ages of the other princesses (ranging from 16-19), I can see her falling into that bracket. In my mind, Apple is at least late 20s, but that's likely due to the stage actor's appearance and characterization of him.

Jack and Alice having a romantic relationship is completely out of the question. She's 12. It's creepy. I don't need to explain further.

According to the stage actor whilst playing Joe, our tired octopus friend here views Ariel as a "little girl," meaning he sees her as a kid. So, at least to me, that ship has sunk.

And finally, unless you count Anita or Perdita, one being a human woman and technically the pup's grandmother/owner, and the other being the adopted mother-figure he was supposed to have, Dalma is out.

With that out of the way, let us begin!

Apple Poison and Snow White 🍎:

Following the idea that Apple was a humunculus created by the Evil Queen (Grimhilda), he was definitely the second person ordered to watch Snow like a hawk as she went along with her tasks. He can sit still for hours at a time, so naturally, he'd be perfect for the job.

He'd most likely grow curious of her caring, hopeful nature despite her circumstances. So much so that he might just confront her himself just to get some answers.

She confuses him, truly. What is there to hope for when your stepmother has ruined your life and reputation as a princess? How can one be so pitifully naive?

But she's not. She just simply refuses to give up.

Sure, she could escape and find shelter elsewhere, but how can she when her people are equally as miserable under her stepmother? Should her country need her one day, perhaps she could help a distant relative or her own child take the throne, as she herself might be unfit due to her lack of education as a maid.

That's why she stays. She has hope.

He'd probably be sent off to find her after she disappears. He may bond with her more, alongside the dwarves. Maybe he tries to kill her himself so she won't suffer under the queen, but decides against it. (You could bring in the original fairytale's three ways of killing her off: The comb, the corset, and then the poison apple).

In the end, Apple would become a dear friend or even an older brother towards Snow White. So much so that when she leaves to marry the prince and becomes the new queen, Apple stays behind to rule as the new king. An alliance built under the strongest foundation: family.

Malfie/Malfi and Aurora🪞:

I've definitely talked about this before on an ask talking about their biggest insecurities, and on Malfi's Personality Page, so I'll add a bit more here.

They'd most likely meet out in the forest one day. He wouldn't know she's the young princess his mistress has been looking for at first, but it becomes pretty apparent later on as they become closer.

At this point, he's desperately in love with her and is inspired to be a better person because of her. His manipulative and jealous tendencies are put in check, as he's willing to give up his happiness for Aurora. Even if it means she won't be with him in the end.

While I personally love the tragic angle with Malfi's story, if we were to give him the win here: He'd help Prince Philip defeat Maleficent, turn back into a bird due to his deal with his mistress being broken, but instead of leaving right after, he stays and follows the group back to the castle.

Prince Philip tries to wake her up, but it doesn't work. The fairies grant Malfie a temporary humanoid form, but he will change back, as their powers are not as powerful as Maleficent's. He agrees anyway and kisses her. Not only does it work, but the kiss gives Malfie a permanent form, although some of his powers have diminished (interpret that how you want)

While the families are ecstatic to have their children home safely, they understand that after years of living separate lives, Aurora has found a new love. Maybe someone might object to her and Malfie's union, but Philip would step in to say that Malfie's earned his respect and deserves Aurora.

Everyone gives their blessing, and Malfie finally gets what he's always wanted: True love.

Much of the others' cases have been discussed before, and I was interested in Apple and Malfie specifically, so I left the others out. Hope you enjoyed reading anyway! Thank you for the question :)

[judedeluca]

Jude's 34th Birthday Wishlist

It's that time of year everyone. And what a year this has been.

Things have been pretty tense in my house lately, and I figure they've been tense with everyone else as well. That's why this year the lists I usually do will be a lot smaller than usual.

So, here're the characters I'm looking at in case anyone wants to write or draw me anything for my birthday this month on December 25th. I'll usual I'll be posting a list for guy characters for heavyset/WG related stuff.

12 faves, a wildcard, and an original character. It feels good to do this again.

The Arsenal Family - As usual, Roy and Lian Harper (and sometimes Lian's baby brother Tommy Blake Jr) - Commission by Sarah Oleksky

Berzerker - Ray Crisp from X-Men Evolution. One of my first favorite X-Men

Butt Attack Punisher Girl Gautaman - Thought I'd throw her in to see if anyone would pick her. The main character of an ecchi problematic magical girl parody manga, which received a stupid OVA adaption which surprisingly gets you to actually care about the characters

Coagula - Kate Godwin, DC's first trans superheroine finally back from the dead for real thanks to my friend Joe Corallo

Forte Drums - The cute one with the bowtie of Team Forte from the webcomic Sleepless Domain (By Stardust Robin)

Hypnotia - Top henchwoman of the Mandarin in the Iron Man animated series and a blatant knockoff of the Enchantress. She should've gotten to appear in the comics.

Joker's Daughter - Duela Dent, daughter of who knows how many villains and a Teen Titan who does NOT run around with the Joker's face stapled on her head

Legion Founders - Cosmic Boy, Saturn Girl, and Lightning Lad are the founders of the Legion of Super-Heroes and the real trinity DC should put their money on. Either Preboot/Retroboot or the cartoon version for me.

Purple Tigress - Anita Morgan, supposedly spoiled heiress who wears a purple fur bikini and boots to fight crime as the Purple Tigress. Fought the Flasher. Had two appearances. I wrote a story about her which was published in River Gardner's Pretty Girls Make Graves

Sailor Jupiter - The brawny girl in love and Soldier of Protection, my favorite Sailor Scout

Supergirl (Linda Danvers) - The second post-Crisis Supergirl, a troubled young woman who gained powers when her life was saved by the previous Supergirl (Matrix). DC did her dirty because she's not Kara Zor-El.

Tormenta - Mistress of the ebon realms, a villainess from Rich Carrington and Brian Dawson's comic Mahoney's

Vickie Wheilson - The neon colored board queen of Nola Thacker's Graveyard School and cousin of Skate McGraw (Art by Daniela Klem)

Original Character - Sunbeam, a.k.a. Rosemary June. What started off as an AU version of Lian Harper's been repurposed into its own character. Daughter of Renner June. An archer and kid hero who helps her dad with charity work and protecting their home. A literal ray of sunshine. (Art by Dklem and wiihtigo)

[bouncinghedgehog]

Anita Blair was the first guide dog handler in El Paso, Texas, when she graduated from The Seeing Eye in March 1940 with Fawn, a German shepherd. The photo is a black and white photo of Anita being guided by Fawn across a bustling city street in the early 1940s.

Just a month later, Anita and Fawn were crossing a street in El Paso when a car nearly hit her. “Fawn, the fawn-colored German shepherd, with perfect timing checked her mistress’s pace, so that the car sped past without the driver being aware that the young woman could not see,” the El Paso Times reported on April 19, 1940.

Fawn was at her side when she graduated from the Texas College of Mines and Metallurgy – now known as the University of Texas at El Paso, or UTEP – with a bachelor’s degree in 1944. She later earned a master’s degree from Texas State College for Women, now Texas Woman’s University, in Denton.

In 1946, Anita and Fawn were again in the news during a tragic fire at the 23-story Hotel LaSalle in Chicago. According to the June 6, 1946, issue of the El Paso Times, Anita was awakened by screams. “When I opened the door the smoke was so heavy I could taste it,” Anita told the newspaper. “I closed the door but did not want to get Fawn excited. Because of her I remained calm – and probably because of me she did the same.”

Fawn led Anita out the window and down the fire escape – 11 stories down – while the fire raged. Sixty-one people were killed in the fire.

In 1952, Anita became the first El Paso woman – and the first blind woman in any state – to be elected as a state representative. During her time in office, Anita fought for funding for the State School for the Deaf, teacher pay raises, and a bill that allowed women to serve on juries.

Anita returned to The Seeing Eye five more times to be matched with successor Seeing Eye dogs. Her last was Beryl, a black Labrador retriever, in 1990. Anita died in 2010 at the age of 93, and in recognition of her service as a state legislator, is buried in the Texas State Cemetery in Austin.

[crossyourheartspreparetodie]

Hair.

Ever since I was in the fandom, I have a very favorite point about the fact that Cross only allowed Allen to shave and cut his hair.

While they were still at Mother's, Cross just forced him to do it and Allen screwed it up as much as possible, but Cross still forced him to do it.

Over time, he got better at it, but when Allen went to the Black Order, Cross did it himself. He just can't relax unless it's Allen doing it. For someone else to be near the face and neck with a sharp blade? no thanks. But if it was Allen, he could relax and take a nap.

curse after the ark Cross threw a tantrum a couple of times so that Allen would be allowed to cut his hair and shave it.

Peacefully dozing Cross and Allen with a blade in his hands are struggling with the desire not to shave his head--- I apologize, if something is written wrong! I don't know English (((

You guyyssss you're gonna kill me with these cute headcanons and scenarios ❤️.

I think Cross would've waved it off as "im making you do this to exercise that left arm of yours". Maybe that's how it was in the beginning and then it became something more intimate (I don't mean this in a dirty way, words fail me today).

Even if Allen royally screwed up Cross does magic so I'm sure he'd have a way to fix it. Hmmm now that I think about it maybe thats why even being on the run Allen's hair still seems so nice and put together.

Lol I think after the Ark Allen would definitely struggle with not wanting to cut all his master's hair off.

This headcanon also makes me a little sad for Cross...not being able to trust anyone, even actual humans (or perhaps feeling like he shouldn't get too close) with his role in the war. I think so many of his mistresses ended up like Anita...it probably keeps him up at night cuz he feels like he'd the cause of their deaths.