#though maybe not more than her girlfriend - lesbian jesus

[future-crab]

What if you were Pluto’s most devout nun and you found out the only two people you’ve ever had romantic feelings for were God’s dead girlfriend and God’s dead daughter. Like what are you even supposed to do with that information.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/18/2025

much like phil, i feel like i cannot quite ever get physically comfy this week. something is always not quite right.

listening: god save the queens by vienna vienna

reading: love's harvest by peggy j herring

watching: cinderella

playing: pokemon

making: return of the baby blanket

listening

im going to start out a little bit mean and say that this self-described glimmer rock song, God Save The Queens by Vienna Vienna, really shone in the ten-second social media clips i saw of its live version. the actual studio version sucks so much. and even the full version of the live version, i want it to me slightly different but in a way i cannot articulate. i am excited to see if other people start covering this in fun ways and maybe it'll be the rare song where i like the cover much more than the original.

I saw a man out in Hollywood He carried a sign that said he hated me I said, "Please, get in line" He stopped to ask me a question He said, "Do you know Christ?" I told him, "Maybe I do, does she work the nights?" He said, "No, I mean Jesus" I said, "That guy was tight But I'm not living in a city built upon your lies" He tried to save me, but somebody already did last night They said their name was Alex, baby, and they showed me the light

like here's the studio version. give us nothing i guess??? i think if you are going to sell merch with GOD SAVE THE F*GS censored out maybe you should say that in the studio version of your song. this is probably a label decision but i want this song to be about 15% less corporate sponsor of a pride parade than it is. i feel like this song got heavily edited from a first draft and i would have liked to hear that probably much angrier first draft. hell of a hook though.

-

reading

this gay and/or lesbian romance and/or erotica project is turning into a little bit of a slog, so with the gentle encouragement of @sybilius going "what if you read good books you enjoyed?" going forward we are going to try a novel of dubious quality from my shelf and an acclaimed queer novel from history in the hopes that one of them will be tolerable. so next week we have the dubious pairing of a mob girlfriend in WITSEC romantic thriller from my shelf, and Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe has just come off hold.

last week's assigned book was Heart on Fire, which was supposed to be even!! better!!! than Naiad Press's previous bestseller Curious Wine by Katherine V Forrest. so of course we had to detour to Curious Wine, which had a very short hold time.

reader, i did not finish this book. seven (7!) different women are introduced in the first chapter with almost no physical or clothing descriptions. they are all extremely mean to each other in the way older women who are dissatisfied with their life often sabotage all their relationships. i didn't have it in me to make a cheat card for myself with who the fuck each woman was, bc i expected somewhat lighter going in a contemporary romance with no extra genres tacked on top.

i am glad i did not continue bc while reading reviews everyone mentioned the Graphic On-Page Sexual Assault??? and this is still somehow every older lesbian's favorite book??? truly the times have changed.

Deep in the heart of France's majestic wine country, the sun drenched hills and lush vineyards of the Jeton family estate seem like the perfect setting for a passionate affaire de Coeur. But the life of workaholic winemaster, Nicole Jeton, is anything but romantic. From one harvest to the next, she runs the world-renowned winery, cares for her invalid father, and bails her no-good brother out of trouble—never stopping long enough to consider her own needs and desires. Until she meets the lovely Camille Cartier...

thank you girls. Love's Harvest by Peggy J Herring is one of the books acquired by Bella when they bought out part of Naiad Press. originally published in 1997, this 156p book was reprinted in 2007 with no additional changes or author's notes. it is the same quality as all the Bella reprints: a kind of terrible to hold perfect-bound softcover. i am beginning to suspect i simply do not vibe with the naiad and/or bella publishing market. i may not be their intended reader. im not really sure who their intended reader is, except maybe the 1997/2007 version of people who patiently comb through self-published kindle ebooks? what is the point of having a physical press and an editor if you can't make the line breaks and the quotation marks correct?

i couldn't find out much about Herring except that she died last summer and was part of her own tuesdaypost endeavor:

To further enhance communication within the women's community, [WomanSpace San Antonio] newsletter staff initiated a regular event known as Tuesday Night for discussing topics affecting women's lives. Topics ranging from real estate law to rape/incest were prepared for each Tuesday session. As ties to related community resources and events increased, the Tuesday Night events were superseded in 1995 by other events and meetings for the lesbian and gay community.

i did not like this book. such a wild amount of somewhat disjointed events take place during this novel and i really wish it was good. there is a for-real ghost, her great aunt killed by her grandfather and everyone just kind of shrugged about it??? that can dramatically interact with physical objects and STOPS A MURDER??? people are so calm about this ghost as a daily fact of life when there is exorcist level shit going on in the foreground. nicole has to cancel one of their weekend getaways bc the ghost is simply too on one and she can't figure out how to explain the ghost to camille, a presumably more normal outsider who presumably did not grow up with a ghost. the ghost is not the focal point of this book but it is by far the most interesting thing in the book.

this book felt like a barely fleshed outline. they go here. they do this. they see that. here is a great example of a section where i would have loved more elaboration in literally every sentence. the build up to this call and the call itself could have been a full chapter instead of half a page.

the least amount of dialogue i have maybe ever read in a book, and even fewer thoughts or feelings or interiority. the sex scenes read like stage direction. which is crazy bc they start fucking on page 42 and keep fucking every time they meet. they do NOT waste any time which was really refreshing. if only it was hot.

things mostly seem to happen to vineyard owner nicole— taking care of her dad (who dies quite early in the book) and the vineyard, her brother randomly shows up instead of her summoning him back to get some emotional closure (he doesn’t even show up for their father’s funeral), her gay bestie summons camille back after the third act breakup instead of nicole doing any emotional work and reaching out herself. everyone has at maximum one thing going on at a time that is neatly wrapped up before the next thing happens.

i think the 3.3 on goodreads is overly kind, but people seem to really love her other books so what do i know. maybe all these books ended up at the thrift bc their original owner was unlucky enough to somehow pick the worst book from each author and had to unload them.

-

watching

Cinderella (1950, dir. Geronimi, Jackson, and Luske) was on in the background while i was wrangling my bestie's children. probably the least scary (if you are not quite six or not quite two) disney princess movie. the bubble sequence makes me insane in a good way. i think this sort of thing is so easily replicated digitally that it looks unimpressive in 2025 but this shit is 75 years old!!! we were nineteen years away from landing on the fucking moon with a computer outpaced by my current microwave!!!

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playing

having a real brain time with pokemon. i was gently bullied into playing the app two weeks ago by my best friend's husband after trying and failing multiple times to get into the actual video games, but after getting the 45 wins i needed to get the fanciest current event emblem i went ok great! i won pokemon! i am done with pokemon! and have sort of mentally checked it off in my head. anyway i loved my murkrow/toxicroak combo. loved to flip a coin. loved my darkness deck apparently.

the deck autobuild feature is really great bc i am able to basically hold my own while knowing nothing about pokemon other that what ive culturally osmosed. im assuming this is a pretty fun app if you like this sort of thing and your brain chemicals are balanced without outside assistance.

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making

the baby i started this mint green baby blanket for is about to turn two in a couple weeks. better late than absolutely never i guess. my original notes called for 10 repeats but i think we're going to up that to 12, just finished the ninth repeat.

[cookinguptales]

guess it's time for the vent post

(note: I will be okay. usually my ketamine treatments help with pmdd symptoms, but occasionally a treatment won't hit quite right and things will get worse for a couple days. I'll be okay, though, I'm just feeling... well, a cocktail of self-doubt, anxiety, loneliness, and overthinking. lmao)

anyway, full disclosure, this won't be a very nice or happy post and is probably the kind of thing I would've posted in a locked LJ entry back in the day but that doesn't really exist in the same way anymore so just bear with me. I need to just. get it out somewhere.

lately I've really been worrying that I'm not capable of being in a normal relationship anymore. like, I was never great at social interaction, but I'll admit that things really took a fucking nosedive after a particularly bad relationship with a woman who. well, I don't think it's a night for particulars. she was an adult and I wasn't. I was very lost, very lonely, and very sick back then, and she really enjoyed being the only person I felt like I could count on.

I... was wrong, I guess.

and... idk, I've definitely had a lot of nights since then (and days with therapists) where I try to sort through how exactly that affected me and my ability to form meaningful romantic relationships. I have a difficult time feeling safe with people. honestly, I did even before her (I had... a very fucked-up home life) but it was harder after. and let's just say that a lot of my friends at the time turned out to be... less than friendly when the shit hit the fan.

so... yeah. hard for me to open up to people in a meaningful way, I guess. like, I can tell strangers about my anxieties, but it becomes harder for me to do once we're friends. and even then, I guess I can trust people with my thoughts but not my... idk, emotional safety.

once when I was pretty tipsy I told a friend that I didn't think I could love the kind of person who would actually love me back, and I still worry that it's true. I allow myself feelings very rarely, and when I do, it's always for people who don't feel the same way.

I never... like... set out to do it... I don't think it's a conscious thing. I fell for straight girls a few times. then bi girls with boyfriends. I did eventually make it to single lesbians, but they always ended up either getting girlfriends, not wanting to date at all, or just not wanting to date me.

to be clear, I don't blame any of them. but I'm starting to wonder if maybe I should be blaming me...? like, I never knew that any of them were straight or coupled or uninterested when I developed feelings myself. but I wonder if subconsciously, I picked up on it...?

for a while now, I've been genuinely worried that My Type is girls who aren't into me. :')

like, not consciously. but subconsciously, am I just picking up on the fact that they're not attracted to me? or they're safely ensconced in another relationship? or they are comfortably not dating at all? but either way, they're not looking at me like a potential partner, and I like that?

some days I feel like I've mostly healed from everything that happened, and other days I feel like I'm just going to be broken and fucked-up and unlovable forever. like, jesus christ, have I learned to associate people who actually want me with danger? do I only feel safe with people who aren't attracted to me? is that why that's the only kind of person I ever want to date?

good god, that's fucked up.

I mean, the only two alternatives, really, are that I am just incredibly unlucky or the meaner parts of me are right and people really just don't want a fat cripple with a mediocre personality.

the latter probably isn't entirely true. men are easy, unfortunately, and I'd be happier if they didn't want me.

(and then you run into the special kind of anger that happens when a woman that a man thought was beneath them actually turns them down, oof. guess they thought the girl with the cane would be more desperate, huh?)

and I've been on a few dating app dates with girls who seemed to like me well enough, but like. just no chemistry whatsoever.

is the special spark??? a woman not wanting me???

food for fucking thought.

anyway, I guess I just kind of avoided thinking about it for a long time but I'm in my mid30s now and it kind of feels like I have avoided things for too long now! that's pretty old to have never had a long-term relationship! other than with the fucking creep who wanted to ~teach me about sex~ back when I was young and less disabled and maybe still worth something!

I guess that was uncalled for, but some days I really do feel like there was a window and boy did I fucking miss it. like everyone else had this chance to learn their way around a romance and I spent mine hooked up to hospital wires and texting with a grown-ass woman who fed on youth.

I recognize that a key part of grooming -- and abusive relationships in general -- is their ability to make you feel like they are the only person who will ever love you. I also recognize that these people are very good at finding the one kid in the room who believes at their core that they will never be loved. (or even make it to age 20, I guess. didn't know if the whole intermittent blindness thing was going to kill me or not back then.)

but goddamn do I still feel like she hollowed me out and took all the parts of me that were lovable with her. like maybe she will be the only woman who ever wants me, and that's fucking horrifying to think about.

there are nights where you just stare at the wall and wonder what made you so damn attractive to pedophiles, y'know? I knew enough at that age to shake off the men, but her? didn't even see it coming.

and I suppose there are the worse nights, the ones where you wonder if normal, well-adjusted, not-creepy people never would have wanted you even if you weren't too damaged to carry on a real relationship. like maybe I was insufferable enough without the ptsd. catnip for creeps and not much else.

damn, dude, why am I so good at pulling men who follow me home from the bus stop but not women who actually care about my well-being. that's the question.

idk. I feel like at this point, like... 75% of me has come to terms with it. like, I guess it's just not something that happens to everybody. not everyone finds someone who loves them and who they love in return. not everyone is cut out for that life.

but then I look at my own writing and the way I just keep doing it, I just keep latching onto broken characters who have had the best parts of them hollowed out, who believe that they are unlovable, and I write a story that says no, you're not. Here, I've made someone for you who loves you wholly and desperately, even broken as you are.

and I feel like that must be the last 25%, huh? or at least the part of me that wants to comfort broken creatures, whether those creatures are characters I made up or ones I didn't or my readers or the people I read about on the news or maybe a 15yo kid who just wanted someone to fucking love her.

I want to take care of her so badly now. I want to love her in a good way, not the selfish kind that takes and takes and takes until there is nothing left. But I guess I just don't know how.

I realized the other day that I just wrote a book that I would have loved at that age. Now I kind of feel like I've been writing bedtime stories for a ghost.

I'll be okay. I always am. It's just... a rough night. They come and they have always come and they will always come and all I can do is write.

Just wish it were something more comforting this time. :')

[airshipvalentine]

hi guys. it’s me, your favorite guy who you love or tolerate. i can’t sleep again. time to fremont county post

should they be at the club/club equivalent, fcmh edition

mila: girl lived in a sorority house for most of her first semester. she has BEEN at the club(/house parties). now this may be controversial but i think mila has the potential to thrive at the club. i think drunk people are at least 70% more willing to listen to her conspiracy tirades. i think she’s mastered the art of weaseling out the weird stories that the football players would be too embarrassed to admit sober. she is a CHEERLEADER i think she’s busting it down sexual style on the dance floor!!! quirked up wasian girl with a little bit of swag!! yes she should be at the club

levi: ok i think levi’s whole vibe and image is Bitch Who Is At The Club. he is Already at the club. but the question is… should he be? is it fulfilling and fun for him or does he just do it because that’s what’s expected of his social role? these are questions that maybe even levi himself cannot answer.

i can, though. do NOT let this man in the club. if nothing else than for the good of the rest of the clubgoers. this bitch will run a nail down your cheek and call you babygirl in your ear and who wants THAT??? no one…. obviously. zero… people……. anyway

claire: claire is so hard for me to get a read on. she strikes me as the type of girl who was a super nose-to-the-grindstone i’ll-party-when-i’m-in-college type. but falling in with lorraine hall has probably stifled that a little bit. i feel like there’s a world in which she goes to a party (at like the cheerleader sorority) and feels so deeply out of place and insecure that she hides in a bathroom trying not to cry. But as we all know, crying in a bathroom can lead to some really touching cathartic conversations with weird strangers (FF May 2024). so like, yeah, she should be at the club, i guess? she should really be at the lesbian bar but that might have to wait a few more months

anna: i think anna tries to be responsible all the time. i think she would go, but be designated sober person, and maybe get into a fistfight when don or mila tries to start shit with someone. i think she would be trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time and pay too little attention to if SHE was having a good time. i just don’t know if she would really enjoy herself. i think she would have more fun having an evening with nin. she should be at the club if she has someone looking out for her

nin: i think nin would either love or hate the club with no inbetween. pre-Fuckening i would say absolutely not. exhaustion + nightmares + short fuse means it probably wouldn’t be super enjoyable. post-Fuckening, i could see them being more open to it. tbh i think the ideal club scenario for nin is sipping a drink at the sidelines and making fun of their friends who are drunker than them. sure, they should be at the club, if they’re feelin it

shay: jesus christ this man needs to unwind. now the club might not exactly be his scene (i think he would do well getting tipsy at a house show) but i think in general he would benefit from just chilling out for a night. go do a jell-o shot and make out with someone stupid bro the world will probably still be there in the morning. put him in the club EXPEDITIOUSLY!!!

shamsiel: ok i really really don’t know. I feel like being at the club could send her into a bit of a tailspin. lots going on. sounds noises people to keep track of. but also, in a crowd like that, no one really gives a shit about you?? i think she could freak it sensitive style and have a good time if given the chance. does alcohol work on angels. Does weed work on angels. I think shamsiel could be helped by smoking some weed. shamsiel should go to the club as an anthropological humanities study and then we can go from there

kelsie: i want go say yes, but the club is also where her situationship/on-off girlfriend is bartending, so maybe it would be best if she avoids that? i’m still rooting for her and arisha 😔 kelsie we can help you we just need to put arisha in a stressful enough situation where she has no choice but to see through the glare 😊 and then you can swoop in and save her 😊 this will have minimal traumatic consequences for her im sure 🥰

ok i got off track. she should be at the club

alder: i feel so confident that she should be at the club. their gnc swag. his cool tattoos. her mysterious past. his remarkably friendly attitude. she is the coolest person in this club you will try to talk to her and FAIL but she will laugh and be nice and give you a friendly shoulder pat that you’ll think about for the rest of the evening. also they deserve it

don: ok i feel like this guy is barely holding it together. he is a business major and not even a bro-y one. he wears sweater vests. he’s a little too mean to the bartender for no reason and doesn’t tip because the bartender had a shitty attitude at him. he snaps at someone for bumping into him. i think much like shay dude needs to unwind BAD but i don’t know if the club is for him. only if alder is there

lightning round

samara: yes

mary: no

ryan: yes

kyle: no

rhys: no

like an subscribe for more unintelligible insomnia posting. please argue with me i’m not 100% convinced of any of these

[hislittleraincloud]

Grandpa Tor Remembers: Camping with UMass Boys (and their plentiful tents)

So (2) people want to know about the time my girlfriend and I put on a show for a dorm full of guys.

Alright. 🫠

It was the Fall 1993 semester at UMass Amherst, and my girlfriend (let's call her...'Kelly') was dorming with a Puerto Rican girl who was obsessed with Luis Miguel (this girl was a walking stereotype of Puerto Ricans 💀). There were posters of the guy all over the room — along with the requisite Jesus iconography/crucifix on the damn wall — without any space for my girlfriend's shit, so if we were going to be doing anything, we'd still be surrounded by that guy's face (and fkn Jesus, when Kelly was Jewish and I was atheist 😭🤣). This roommate hated being around my gf and hated it even more when I was around, so thankfully the weekend this happened, she had gone home to wherever the fuck she was from (Holyoke, I think) and my gf let me know so I could hop a bus over. Zero to do with the story, just setting the weird ass scene I was shuffled into at that time in my life. If I recall, her roomie wanted to be a nurse, too. 💀💀💀💀💀 But she was also big religious/a big Jesus beater, so she hated being roomed with a free-spirited Jewish lesbian like Kelly and made Kelly's life Hell whenever she was around.

Me being highly sexed and Kelly being receptive all the time led us to start fucking as soon as we got up into the roommateless room. Today, there was a banana involved, but the boys did not see that part. 😉🍌 Yes it went where you're thinking...not into me though 💩

Her bed was next to the wall and window. If you sat up in the bed, you could turn your head to see out the window and see the other dorms across the ways.

I was lying on my back on the bed and Kelly was doing her usual sexy stripper dance over me (this was a thing she did for me/us...easy to do with the Lords of Acid blasting around you)...and she suddenly turned beet red and started laughing.

Now when Kelly turned beet red and started laughing the way she did at the time, you know something's fucked up, so I sat up and asked her what was wrong. She knelt down and her laughter got worse (she was the giggly type). She pointed towards the window, so I looked out to see a whole fucking bunch of guys watching her from the windows of the other dorm (like... I'm not talking just a couple of guys... I'm talking dozens, since the windows were filled up with smiling, amused young college boys).

So instead of getting embarrassed, what did I do...I got on my knees and told Kelly to calm it and to straighten her back so they could see us pressed together. After waving at them, I (we) pulled a Cairo for their male gaze

after which they were all cheering like it was a fucking football game and someone just scored a touchdown.

Our kissing lasted much longer than the above drunken Male Gaze Kiss, so I hope some of them enjoyed themselves. We did not show them anything else besides boob (we were both un our bras and I flashed them, but Kelly was too shy...maybe because hers were big and mine were like Ortega's), but they seemed satisfied just to watch us make out and feel each other up. College boys in the '90s were too easy, and we both had our pick (but we were too picky...both interested in older men). Kelly said she wasn't sure if she could show her face on campus after that but all was good, she was never bothered by anyone about it.

I know, it wasn't as big of a show as you expected. We didn't fuck in front of them (well, we technically did, but they couldn't see it...and they knew that we were going to because before I sank back down onto the bed with Kelly, I gave them a final wave and a 👅✌🏼...I could see some disappointed faces but most were happy and waving g'bye back 🤭). We saved that kind of thing for later, when we fucked in front of my big dicked comics store boss who wanted to join in (but we didn't let him). 👹

Next story? I suppose I ought to do a new poll.

[theomnilegent]

2023 Upcoming Sapphic Fiction I’m Excited For! 🏳️‍🌈

Here is my list of nine sapphic women-led fiction to look forward to in the coming year! Romance and redheads seem to be as popular as ever, and to my delight we have the debut novel from Lesbian Jesus herself, Hayley Kiyoko!

Below you’ll find titles, summaries, and Goodreads links for the above books. Every year, the number of stories with bisexual women and lesbian main characters grows, and I’m so delighted each and every time. This list is only a starting point - explore Goodreads and StoryGraph further and you’ll find so many more!

Just As You Are by Camille Kellogg Liz Baker and her three roommates work at The Nether Fields, a queer magazine in New York that’s on the verge of shutting down—until it’s bought at the last minute by two wealthy lesbians. Even though Liz is eager to leave listicles behind for more meaningful writing, she knows that she’s lucky to still have a paycheck. But it’s hard to feel grateful with minority investor Daria Fitzgerald slashing budgets, cancelling bagel Fridays, and password protecting the color printer to prevent “frivolous use.” When Liz overhears Daria scoffing at her articles, she knows that it’s only a matter of her time before her impulsive mouth tells Daria off and gets herself fired. But as Liz and Daria get thrown together more and more, Liz starts to see a softer side to Daria—she’s funny, surprisingly helpful, and actually seems to like that Liz’s gender presentation varies between butch and femme. Even as the evidence that Liz can’t trust Daria piles up, it starts getting harder and harder to keep hating Daria—and harder and harder to resist her.

You Don’t Have A Shot by Racquel Marie Valentina “Vale” Castillo-Green’s life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father’s intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she’s been working toward seems to disappear. Embarrassed and desperate to be anywhere but home, Vale escapes to her beloved childhood soccer camp for a summer of relaxation and redemption…only to find out that she and the endlessly aggravating Leticia will be co-captaining a team that could play in front of college scouts. But the competition might be stiffer than expected, so unless they can get their rookie team’s act together, this second chance—and any hope of playing college soccer—will slip through Vale’s fingers. When the growing pressure, friendship friction, and her overbearing father push Vale to turn to Leticia for help, what starts off as a shaky alliance of necessity begins to blossom into something more through a shared love of soccer...and maybe each other.

Margo Zimmerman Gets The Girl by Sara Waxelbaum and Brianna R. Shrum Margo Zimmerman is gay, but she didn’t know until now. An overachiever at heart, Margo is determined to ace her newly discovered gayness. All she needs is the right tutor. Abbie Sokoloff has her own gayness down to a science. But a flunking grade in US History is threatening her acceptance to her dream school. All she needs is the right tutor. Margo agrees to help Abbie get her history grade up in exchange for “Queer 101” lessons. But as they spend more and more time together, Margo realizes she doesn’t want just any girl—she wants the girl.

Something Like Possible by Miel Moreland On the worst day of her life, Madison is dumped by her girlfriend, then fired as said (ex)girlfriend’s campaign manager... plus she accidentally rear-ends the student government advisor—the one person whose good word might help her win a spot at a prestigious youth politics summer camp. But Madison is nothing if not a girl with a plan, and she isn’t going to let a little thing like heartbreak (or a slightly dented bumper) get in her way. Soon, she has a new junior class president candidate to back—although the two of them might be getting a little too close on the campaign trail. Between navigating her growing crush and corralling a less than enthusiastic election team, Madison has had it with unexpected changes to her carefully laid plans. But when she and a group of queer classmates discover a pattern of harassment within the student government, Madison's forced to shift gears once again.

The Fiancee Farce by Alexandria Bellefleur Tansy Adams’ greatest love is her family’s bookstore, passed down from her late father. But when it comes to actual romance… Tansy can’t get past the first chapter. Tired of her stepfamily’s questions about her love life, Tansy invents Gemma, a fake girlfriend inspired by the stunning cover model on a bestselling book. They’ll never actually meet, so what’s the harm in a little fib? Yet when real-life Gemma crosses Tansy’s path, her white lie nearly implodes. Gemma van Dalen is a wild child, the outcast of her wealthy family, and now the latest heir to Van Dalen Publishing. But the title comes with one tiny condition: she must be married in order to inherit. When Gemma discovers a beautiful stranger has been pretending to date her for months, she decides to take the charade one step further—and announces their engagement. Gemma needs a wife to meet the terms of her grandfather’s will and Tansy needs money to save her struggling bookstore. A marriage could be mutually beneficial, if they can fool everyone into thinking it’s a love match. Unexpected sparks fly as Tansy and Gemma play the role of affectionate fiancées, and suddenly the line between convenient arrangement and real feelings begins to blur. But the scheming Van Dalen family won’t give up the company without a fight, and Gemma and Tansy’s newfound happiness might get caught in the fallout…

Six Times We Almost Kissed by Tess Sharpe Penny and Tate have always clashed. Unfortunately, their mothers are lifelong best friends, so the girls’ bickering has carried them through playdates, tragedy, and more than one rom-com marathon with the Moms. When Penny’s mother decides to become a living donor to Tate’s mom, ending her wait for a liver transplant, things go from clashing to cataclysmic. Because in order to help their families recover physically, emotionally, and financially, the Moms combine their households the summer before senior year. So Penny and Tate make a pact: They’ll play nice. Be the drama-free daughters their mothers need through this scary and hopeful time. There’s only one little hitch in their plan: Penny and Tate keep almost kissing. It’s just this confusing thing that keeps happening. You know, from time to time. For basically their entire teenaged existence. They’ve never talked about it. They’ve always ignored it in the aftermath. But now they’re living across the hall from each other. And some things—like their kisses—can’t be almosts forever.

Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli Imogen Scott may be hopelessly heterosexual, but she’s got the World’s Greatest Ally title locked down. She's never missed a Pride Alliance meeting. She knows more about queer media discourse than her very queer little sister. She even has two queer best friends. There's Gretchen, a fellow high school senior, who helps keep Imogen's biases in check. And then there's Lili—newly out and newly thriving with a cool new squad of queer college friends. Imogen's thrilled for Lili. Any ally would be. And now that she's finally visiting Lili on campus, she's bringing her ally A game. Any support Lili needs, Imogen's all in. Even if that means bending the truth, just a little. Like when Lili drops a tiny queer bombshell: she's told all her college friends that Imogen and Lili used to date. And none of them know that Imogen is a raging hetero—not even Lili’s best friend, Tessa. Of course, the more time Imogen spends with chaotic, freckle-faced Tessa, the more she starts to wonder if her truth was ever all that straight to begin with...

Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko It’s summertime and 17-year-old Coley has found herself alone, again. Forced to move to rural Oregon after just losing her mother, she is in no position to risk her already fragile heart. But when she meets Sonya, the attraction is immediate. Coley worries she isn't worthy of love. Up until now, everyone she's loved has left her. And Sonya's never been with a girl before. What if she's too afraid to show up for Coley? What if by opening her heart, Coley's risking it all? They both realize that when things are pushed down, and feelings are forced to shrivel away, Coley and Sonya will be the ones to shrink.

If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come by Jen St. Jude Avery Byrne has secrets. She's queer; she's in love with her best friend, Cass; and she's suffering from undiagnosed clinical depression. But on the morning Avery plans to jump into the river near her college campus, the world discovers there are only nine days left to live: an asteroid is headed for Earth, and no one can stop it. Trying to spare her family and Cass additional pain, Avery does her best to make it through just nine more days. As time runs out and secrets slowly come to light, Avery would do anything to save the ones she loves. But most importantly, she learns to save herself. Speak her truth. Seek the support she needs. Find hope again in the tomorrows she has left.

[flamingfalcon3]

Hello! I have finally finished the first chapter of my first Jori fanfic. I’m still trying to get a feel for the character interactions but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it! I’m gonna start posting to ao3 once i get that account set up (and figure out a title lol) but I might as well post the first chapter here! Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Jade knew her girlfriend was hiding something. 

Tori was not a hard person to read. Hell, the girl practically wore her heart on her sleeve. It was so easy to guess what she was feeling at all times that Tori had all but given up trying to conceal her emotions. 

So, when Jade noticed that Tori was a bit more high-strung and stressed than usual, it wasn’t hard for her to conclude that there was something on her mind. 

It also helped that Tori was an awful liar. 

“What’s up with you?” Jade asked casually during lunch one afternoon.

“Nothing!” the singer squeaked suspiciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain composure. “Nothing is up. Everything is great!”

Jade frowned slightly, not at all convinced, but decided just to drop it for the time being as the rest of their friend group arrived at the table. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sikowitz made them all tapdance while performing a scene to “demonstrate how important it is to stay in character no matter what the character may be doing” or whatever and then spent the rest of the class monologuing about how a squirrel got trapped in his bathroom. 

Jade sighed a breath of relief as the final bell rang and cut Sikowitz off just as he was about to go into detail about the standoff he had with the rodent. The only one seemingly more anxious to get out of the classroom than Jade was her girlfriend, who was out the door before the bell even finished ringing. Their friends glanced at each other in confusion. 

“Maybe she really hates squirrels?” Robbie suggested. The others considered it for a moment before shrugging and forgetting about it a second later, exiting the classroom.

Jade strode over to Tori, who was frantically throwing books into her backpack from her locker. Jade leaned back against the locker next to Tori’s while folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re in a hurry,” the goth commented while watching the girl struggle to cram a science textbook into her bag. 

“Jade!” Tori jumped slightly, seemingly startled by Jade’s presence.

“That’s me,” she responded dryly. “Did you forget about our date after school today?”

The singer’s eyes widened in realization and her hand flew to her forehead as she let out a groan

“Jade, oh my god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” she confessed, clearly feeling guilty she had forgotten they’d planned to have sushi after school ended.  

“It’s alright,” Jade replied coolly, quirking the corner of her mouth up slightly to convey to Tori she wasn’t upset with her. “What’s got you in such a rush anyway?”

Tori paused for a moment, staring down at her converse.

“Oh, umm… I promised my mom I would help her with… something,” she mumbled.

“Something…?” Jade probed, hoping to get a little more context on what had her girlfriend so worked up. Tori, however, would not offer her any.

“It’s not important. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Tori slung her bag over her shoulder before stepping towards Jade and planting a short but sweet kiss to her lips. She then turned and began walking towards the exit. 

“You better! I can’t have people think I got stood up!” Jade called out after her, earning a hearty laugh from her girlfriend as she left the building. 

The goth rolled her eyes, amused by Tori’s refusal to admit what it was she was helping her mother with. It must be super embarrassing or something. 

Jade was halfway through entering her locker combination when she remembered something that gave her pause.

Tori’s parents were out of town for the week. Trina had a showcase and they needed an excuse not to show up. Why would she need to help her mom with something if-?

Jade’s phone lit up with a message from Tori directed towards the group chat, asking if anyone could lend her $100 bucks. The goth furrowed her brows. Tori rarely asked for money, and never more than $10 dollars at a time.

Tori Vega, what the hell are you up to? 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Jade could think about for the rest of the day was how strange her girlfriend was acting. She wasn’t responding to her text messages and apparently none of their friends had heard from her either. It wasn’t like Tori at all, and Jade’s curiosity was slowly turning into concern. 

She knew it was silly to be worried. Tori was a big girl, after all. Still, why would she need $100 bucks on such short notice? And what was with her skittish and secretive attitude? 

Maybe she was in trouble with someone. Maybe she needed to pay them money in order to keep them at bay. 

The thought was so absurd that Jade almost burst out laughing as soon as it entered her mind. This is Tori she was talking about. Miss “I have never stayed out past curfew” Vega. Not exactly the type to get tangled up in criminal activity.

Still, Jade couldn’t help but feel uneasy about Tori’s radio silence. It wouldn’t hurt to pay her a visit, right?

15 minutes later she was climbing through her girlfriend’s bedroom window, which Tori for some reason always kept unlocked. Tori wasn’t there, but her backpack was on her bed and her phone was on her desk. Jade let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she sank down onto the bed. Not 10 seconds later she heard the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open. In walked Tori who jumped five feet in the air and shrieked upon seeing someone in her room.

“Jade?” Tori yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” the goth deadpanned. 

“So you broke into my house?” 

“I didn’t break in. Your window was unlocked,” 

“That’s still breaking in!”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes!” 

Jade was about to argue further when she noticed Tori was holding a grocery bag, and its contents looked quite heavy based on how far the bottom was sagging. 

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing towards the bag. Tori glanced at it quickly before fixing her gaze back on Jade. 

“Just some stuff for a science project,” she stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Tori,” Jade huffed. “We are in the same science class. We’re lab partners. We don’t have a science project.”

Tori stammered helplessly, trying and failing to come up with some explanation for what was in the bag. Jade groaned in annoyance, fed up with whatever game her girlfriend was playing.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what’s going on! You know it doesn’t matter what it is since my opinion of you can’t get any low-” Jade was interrupted by a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room. She immediately turned to locate the source of the sound.  

Tori could only watch helplessly as the goth scoured every inch of her room before finally tearing open the doors to her closet. A tiny fuzzy creature emerged from the darkness. And then another. And then another. They kept emerging from the closet until there were seven tiny kittens of various colors and patterns wandering around the room. 

Jade slowly looked back up at her girlfriend, confusion written all over her face.

“How-how did those get in there?” Tori stammered, trying her very best to feign ignorance as all the kittens ran towards her meowing hungrily. 

Unfortunately her “very best” still wasn’t very good. 

“Tori, why were there cats in your closet?” Jade asked, still absolutely bewildered by the scene that was unfolding. 

The singer realized there was no way she could talk her way out of this one, and just gave her girlfriend a guilty look before opening her mouth.

“Remember last week when there was that sudden downpour in downtown Los Angeles?” Jade nodded. “Well, I was walking home from Nozu’s when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I went to check to see what it was and-”

“Wait, you heard strange noises coming from an alleyway in downtown Los Angeles at night and you went to go check it out?” Jade asked incredulously. Jesus, Jade doesn’t know how her girlfriend has managed to survive for this long considering her self-preservation instincts were non-existent. Tori just rolled her eyes in response.”

“As I was saying, I went to go check out what the strange noises were and… well,” she turned to look at the kittens scampering around her bedroom. 

Jade brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“So let me get this straight, you wandered into a back alley while it was raining and found kittens and decided the best thing to do would be to take them home?” Jade was still bewildered by her girlfriend. 

“Well when you put it that way it sounds like a stupid idea,” Tori blushed while avoiding eye contact. Jade sighed but took a step closer to her. 

“I mean, I always assumed you would be one of those lesbians who would have like ten cats but I thought that would start after you moved out of your parents’ house,” she smirked. 

“Hey!” Tori let out a mock-offended gasp while swatting Jade’s arm playfully. “I mean, I probably will have to move out once they come home and discover I’ve been hiding kittens in my room despite my father being deathly allergic to them.”  

Why was Jade attracted to such a moron? 

“Can’t you just give them to a shelter or something?” she asked gently. Tori shook her head softly.

“I thought about it but the pounds are apparently really full this time of year so there’s a significant possibility that they'll get…” Tori paused, unable to even finish the thought. “It’s just… they’ve been through so much in the short few weeks they’ve been alive and I can’t just abandon them now!”

Stupid Tori and her stupid heart of gold. The goth groaned and tilted her head back.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll help you with you’re dumb kitten problem,” Jade’s heart fluttered a little as she watched Tori’s face lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Really?” She gleamed. “How?”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would be interested in adopting tiny kittens. Especially if you go into detail about their tragic backstory and stuff. People are suckers for that kind of stuff,” Jade stated. “You could like, advertise them on The Slap and try to get them adopted before your parents come back.”

Tori chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating Jade’s suggestion.

“That’s… not a bad idea. People advertise things on The Slap all the time,” she hesitated for a moment and her face fell. “Ugh, wait. Trina follows me. If she finds out I’m hiding kittens in my closet she’ll rat me out for sure.” 

Jade closed her eyes and sighed deeply. God, she can’t believe she was about to say this.

“I guess… I could… post about the kittens on my page, or whatever,” she grimaced. Tori’s grin got so wide Jade was concerned her face was about to split in half. 

“You would do that for me?” she exclaimed. “But, your reputatio-”

“My reputation died as soon as I changed my status to ‘in a relationship with Tori Vega’,” Jade snorted. “Kittens would be nowhere near as embarrassing as you.”

Tori was beaming at her girlfriend despite the insult, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around Jade’s neck and peppering her face with soft kisses before finally connecting their lips. The goth let out a content sigh in the back of her throat and attempted to deepen the kiss while pushing Tori backwards to the bed. However, Tori hummed and broke the kiss leaving Jade more than a little confused. 

“Sorry, I-” the singer stammered. “I would feel weird making out in front of…” 

Jade quirked her eyebrows up in amusement.

“In front of… the cats?” she asked, barely suppressing a laugh. Tori nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment. Jade just chuckled and rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Tori.”

[sorio99]

Deltarune Chapter 2: Live Thoughts

So, since the new chapter of Deltarune came out, I've played it all the way through, so, here are my thoughts as I had them. Basically a live-blog, but, not live anymore, I wrote these in my notes app before.

NOTE: Obviously there are going to be ALL THE SPOILERS for Deltarune Chapter 2 in this, as well as Chapter 1. Reader discretion is advised.

Wow, okay, so I was wrong about it being immediately explained.

Various descriptions have changed, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the change to a new game, or the one to a new chapter.

I feel like Berdly is definitely a m’lady guy.

Okay, so, we’re not skipping class this time.

I really wish we could call Toriel and tell her we’re gonna be late again, but I couldn’t see an option for that. Maybe Kris told her on the ride to school.

Okay, so, Noelle is definitely adorable, and a huge lesbian.

Susie seems lovestruck too, kinda.

SHE HAD CHALK, AND SHE DIDN’T TELL ALPHYS BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT SHE AND SUSIE COULD GO GET IT TOGETHER OH MY GOD

Okay, honestly wasn’t expecting the closet to work again.

Fricking LOVE the new transition.

Okay, so, Ralsei knows about, the real world? How, why, and what?

Oh, that, makes, a little sense? But also, if we hadn’t brought the toys over to the closet then, would they all be, dead?

AND WHAT IS RALSEI IN THIS CONTEXT?!?!

Okay, but I love the new town.

Holy shit, save points have storage, AND a spare list? Hell yeah.

So, we’re all level 2 now. I guess they moved from EXP based (or, execution point based?) to Milestone.

Love the basement for bad guys, with K. Round standing guard.

Bitch said “Child abusers live in Hamster Cage”.

Wait, he uses the hamster wheel?

I don’t know if I believe the king about his “bluff” or not. I think not, but, I don’t know.

I can see the “Susie moves to Ralsei’s castle to escape her abusive home” fic already.

RALSEI GAVE KRIS A TRASHCAN, AND SAID IT WAS FOR THE MANUAL IF HE GIVES US ANOTHER ONE OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY MY SWEET FLUFFY BOY

And of course, the moss call-back.

Oh god, Susie just said “My own room, huh.” and my heart is ready to shatter.

This girl has one actual food item in her fridge, and it’s just salsa

Oh, scratch that, there’s ice, crumbs, and jawbreakers in there too?

Oh, okay, Ralsei did give her actual food.

Entering Lancer’s room gives the cartoon Splat sound effect from Chapter 1, and his bedroom is identical to Chapter 1.

Perfect.

And the sound effect, plays in reverse when leaving? Okay.

So, explore until we’re ready to leave, huh? Seems, suspicious.

Oh my god, I just realized, the LightCandy is literally the chalk Noelle gave Susie. What the fuck.

So, for giving the Top back his cake, we get regenerating SpinCake that heals everyone for 140. Nice.

Battle challenges, huh? This should be interesting.

So, we can get a ClubsSandwich, $100, or…Jigsaw Joe’s entire life savings. Okay.

Aw, Clover has separate heads in their dialogue box!

Just realized this “dojo” also has their bed. Odd.

Alright, let’s take these challenges!

Oh, so if we act with Kris, than spare with Ralsei or Susie…got it!

He has a mercy meter. There’s a mercy meter now. I love this.

Oh, of course his life savings is exactly one dollar.

I can already tell the Graze challenges are gonna be the biggest bitches.

Okay, so, being able to rematch bosses, with different gimmicks and attacks, but based on the same logic? Always amazing.

I love the little cut-ins from the other characters with certain lines, like Susie and Lancer revealing “for a price” means zero dollars.

“Cookie and Wife”?

The Blacksmith runs a bakery where he can fuse items…okay.

Imma get a Silver Card.

What the fuck, Mr. Society?

Okay, so, we’re “leaving” through the way we came in, so “surely” we’re going back “home” to the “real world” and our “family”. Sure.

LANCER was added to your key items.

Oh was he now?

And so was Rouxls, “even though no one wanted that.”

Oh, we, actually went back to the light world. Huh. Actually wasn’t expecting that.

Jack of Spades, and the Rules Card. Makes sense.

Still LV 1 here, thankfully. No murder yet.

Okay, thankfully I can call Toriel now.

…Undyne, what the fuck?

Also? This, car horn music, I guess? Is, um…interesting.

Oh, the, computer lab. Where Toby was in Chapter 1. Okay. Makes sense.

“Guess this means we can’t start our project.” I’d say the biggest obstacle is more that we have no clue what the hell this project is supposed to be.

Hmm, we could use the computer at my house, or we could have a fun Toby Fox adventure…

My house!

I knew Susie wouldn’t allow it, also, you always wanna jump in big pits? That’s, worrying.

Computer lab time!

So, computer themed, maybe?

Rouxls jumped out, apparently. According to Lancer.

Okay, this build up is creepy, where’s the fluffy boy?!

Who is SHE?!

Was

Was that Noelle’s chatter sound?

Asking for help?

OH MY GOD

ITS THE REINDEER LESBIAN

SHES BEEN TAKEN

NOOOO

And, I suppose, this must be, our queen.

Q5U4EX7YY2E9N. Sure. I’ll stick with Queen, yeah.

Oh, she’s a computer! That…that’s probably not, great?

Oh, those plugs are bad, brainwashers. Okay.

Okay, they’re both tired…but Ralsei isn’t here. Fuck.

Aiming at moving targets is hard.

2 Werewires spared, only 4 to go, I guess!

RALSEI IS BACK, YAY!

Fun Gang, back together, working to save Susie’s soon-to-be-girlfriend!

Rhythm game to start a new bumping song. Nice.

Might live blog less from here, since, you know, the game is starting proper.

God, I love Deltarune’s look and sound, it’s so clean? And expressive, and AAAGH, I just love it!

I love angry Ralsei.

First lose control laughing moment: Kris and Susie squishing Ralsei like a toothpaste tube, to play an arcade game.

Did, did I just play Punch-Out inside an Undertale?

Curing computer viruses with Syringes…sure.

Sweet is the rhythm guy! Nice to meet you, Sweet! You and Toby are great at this music thing.

Hey, Susie can act now! Awesome!

Ralsei too, because of bullying! Yay!

Now the whole gang’s dancing!

(This is where I took my first real break, to process stuff and relax, and also to sleep)

In between thought: it’s kinda interesting that, in Chapter 1, Susie basically had to be forced to care about Kris, Ralsei, and Susie, but as soon as Noelle is in the slightest bit of danger, she’s immediately like, “We have to save her or die trying”, huh?

“Reverse diss-tracks, where the vocalist puts themselves down and praises Queen…or noise music.” That’s some, interesting taste in music.

“All our songs are only 4 seconds long!” Damn, so you’re, like, Vine musicians?

So, the Knight is opening alternate fountains, that create dark worlds out of, more mundane places? Interesting…

So, someone new is leading the rebels. This, can’t go well.

Smorgasbord 2.

Oooh, a TP raising Item! Nice!

Oh, the guy who was already working for Queen is a Werewire now. Okay.

66 up arrows. Hmmm, I wonder if I can retry at some point…

Oh boy. Here’s the queens…wait what?

Oh my god.

Go kart time.

Noelle, you traitor! How could you!

Oh, okay. Berdly I believe more.

Also, “beloved”.

I love how Queen apparently didn’t even ask him.

“Light Nerds” Good one, Queen.

That’s one weird Check for Berdly.

Berdly, for God’s sakes, Noelle is a lesbian, you idiot.

You know, given this villain rant, I think I hate Berdly more than I do King. And I’ve dealt with both bullies AND abusive dads.

Oh god, Roller Coaster Tycoon murder (also Berdly is dead)

Garbage! Saved by it again.

Oh, this place looks glitchy.

Also, Susie, you’re not the king of the trash pile. You’re QUEEN of the trash pile.

Oh god, please don’t tell me she’s dying.

Okay, good, she just needed fluffy boy hug.

Fork in the path, advantageous to split up, huh? But there’s three of us, and, two paths probably.

Okay, I can either go with the Fluffy boy who might secretly be evil, or the mean girl who might get lesbian scenes…hmmm…

I’m flipping a coin.

Okay, Ralsei it is!

Oh, Susie is upset at me getting to pick.

Oh, they’re going together.

Oh, this can’t be good.

If I had a nickel for every indie game with a cat themed metropolis on my pc, I’d have two nickels. You can finish the meme.

I swear I just saw Noelle on the right. Something big in the streets, hmmmm…

Okay, definitely saw Noelle that time. Shame the Poppups, popped up.

…I get it, Toby, but I’m still mad.

Blocked 10 ads…okay, I still love this game.

God, I’m already missing my party members.

Okay, so I still have Lancer, but, I’m really hoping Noelle listens to reason, because Lancer is, not.

Oh god no, don’t fight me now Queen. And please don’t join me.

Alright, nobody likes Berdly. Figured.

God they’re so dumb.

“G-got any room for another truce?” Noelle, I would do a No Mercy run for you, of course I’m going to help you.

I can’t believe “No Triple Trucies” is even an option.

Yay! Noelle in party!

“LV1 Snowcaster. Might be able to use some cool moves.” She’s got Heal Prayer, a more powerful (but more expensive) Pacify, and a damaging Ice move for only 16% TP.

I love her.

I don’t know what a sugarplum is myself, actually.

Noelle, you have a one track mind, and I like it.

Lancer, she’s not a cream, and we’re not making her a bad guy.

Oh, and she’s scared of mice, I love it!

Ah, she’s never been in battle before, let’s see how this goes.

See? That wasn’t so bad, Noelle.

Oh, she’s a natural!

“Needles aren’t scary…” Tell that to anyone under 20, Noelle.

Also, “subtle” pro-Vax message?

Oh my god, I just love her animations.

So, the virus and the syringe are fighting…hm…

Okay, so, first, Noelle’s defend animation, also perfect.

Second, so Ambyu-lance’s bullets block and destroy Virovirokun’s…hmm…

Have I mentioned how much I love Noelle? This funky little Christmas Lesbian can do no wrong.

Oh my god, she can’t even confidently say we’re friends, and hearing Kris say it makes her happy, I love her so much.

Okay, so, Queen drinks Battery Acid. Makes sense for a computer.

Kris is so done with this shit, I can tell.

I am both scared of and loving Queen.

Oh Jesus Christ Berdly what the fuck is that.

That is not greatness that is…I don’t know. I’m pretty sure even tumblr isn’t horny for you, Berdly.

Christ, he’s gonna break Queen by being an idiot and then he’ll be the Chapter boss.

Her eyes say lying. Of course.

“I Did Not Know You Had… Nipples” that’s, a good point.

…Berdly, you disturb me.

Second lost control laughing moment: Noelle’s cardboard robot face, and Queen just saying “Wow Cool Face”

Lancer, what is the “illusory nipple technique”?

Oh, of course the music bots built the statue. Berdly would never do manual labor.

Oh, and, they built the next “big” thing…hmmmm…

Why are we, flavors of tea???

Okay, that should be all the werewires for now.

The, clothing store, sold me, a useless mannequin, for $300. Of course.

I am going to touch the cheese.

Maus!

Cheese maze, purposely ruined to spare more Mices.

Hmm, Berdly talks about Noelle’s crush. $20 says he actually thinks it’s him, or maybe Kris at a stretch.

Noelle is now immune to mice! Yay!

Oh, CD Bagel, Seedy Bagel, just got that.

Okay, sacrifice pacifist run to kill Berdly…I’m tempted.

Uh, Berdly, Noelle just one shot both your allies. I’m not alone, you are.

Jokes on you, buddy, I’ve been dodging A+ for years!

“(He hit me in the face with a tornado…)” Yes, Noelle, and I have papercuts on my eyelids. He do be an asshole.

Oh good, they both made Battery Acid Pies. Now we’re in a car together. Perfect. This is exactly how I wanted things to go.

Potassium

Who is this trash man?

Spamton, huh. Oh boy.

Oh god, this song has lyrics.

Oh joy, a mini boss on my own. Just what I wanted.

Oh, new game over screen! Nice.

Anyways, I hate this guy.

Okay, just one more deal, I think. I wonder what’s next.

I’m not giving you my credit card info, dude.

Oh damnit, 1% more.

Okay, I’m very scared now.

Oh, I lost $51. That’s, fair.

Okay, back in the car.

Oh my god, Queen loves Noelle too. Perfect.

Lancer took the mixtape! Nice!

Oh, he ate it…nice!

DECEMB…

Oh god she’s a little kid.

December.

I’m so sorry, Noelle. I really hope you’re going to be okay. We’ll figure out what to do.

Queen, why does everything you have explode?

Now the prize is on my head.

Susie and Ralsei! You’re back!

She can slightly heal me now…cool!

And she taught him Sarcasm. I love them all so much.

Uh, Susie! You can have it!

Okay, so, now Susie is both gay for Noelle, and suspicious of her. Amazing.

And Noelle is turned on by the threat of being killed. Have I mentioned I love these dorks?

The gang’s all here!

Uh, just got past fireworks, and, where’s Noelle?

Oh, okay. She was just watching Fireworks.

Oooo, catching mice minigame!

Oooo, more elaborate but simpler to control mice minigame!

Oooo, bucket hole!

Also, nice gay Noelle moment noted.

Oh no, please don’t take the perfect girl away from us!

Okay, so, I don’t like Berdly, but, Acid river? Bit much…

Oh, okay. He was never in danger. I hate both of you. GIVE US BACK NOELLE

GOD DAMNIT NOT THE CAGE AGAIN.

Oh, great, now we’re captured too. Except possibly Ralsei.

She only plays mobile games. Burn her.

For once Berdly is correct.

Queen, you are dumb.

Is that the super Mario world fade?

I don’t, next question.

No looking at my Search history!

Oh, hey, we can chat in here.

LANCER TIME!

YES I MISSED YOU YOU DOPE

Lancer, never say Pants hole again, and never say you were inside it either.

Lancer, do you still not know our name?!

So this is how they lampshade the tutorial-Toriel thing, huh?

Oh no, Lancer, please don’t die in here.

Um, are there rooms for all the kids at school?

Asriel…

Puzzle time!

Plot twist: Susie is not Susan.

Berdly is dumb.

Admittedly, I did brute force that second one a bit…

Okay, now Susie has outsmarted both me AND Berdly. This is sad.

Oh god, he’s gonna cry now.

Oh, my god, that’s what December meant. That’s why Berdly cares about Noelle. That’s why…oh god.

Oh wow, Susie’s a gamer. This is incredible Lore.

Oh wow, first Lancer’s face returns, now Berdly is Anime. I love this game.

Oh my god, Ralsei in a tux. I love him.

Alright, so, Lancer needs to go back to Castle Town, and we need to get the heck to Noelle. I hope Berdly’s plan actually works…

Aw, I wanted him to stay tuxedo…

Color Cafe, huh?

Oh god, Rouxls came here. I am terrified.

I love this hype manor song!

Toby Fox, why is there so much 3D Shenanigans in this 2D Top Down RPG???

Note: from here, I end up going to the secret of this chapter. Do not read if you don’t want to be spoiled on that plotline. Skip to where I say Pancake Batter.

Okay, I’m going back, and I’m gonna find this third blue check mark.

Okay, found it, now to get back to the guy…

Yay, fireworks, again!

East treasure’s hallway leading to Basement on 1F…

Oh dear.

So there’s a secret here after all…where is…

Found it!

Okay, how to open this lock, now…hm.

Well, one thing was in the field, so, maybe in the city?

Oh Jesus it’s Spamton.

$28, not a penny more.

KeyGen, huh…

If this is as hard as Jevil, I’m gonna be pissed.

Oh, great, just Kris going in. Again. Fantastic.

Oh what the fuck.

Oh Jesus Christ I hate this build up.

Oh, and I died on the elevator. That’s fun.

Okay, so I hate this elevator. A lot.

Okay! Took like six tries, but I made it past the elevator! Now, let’s see what’s waiting for me…

EmptyDisk…hmmmmmmmm…

Maybe take that back to Scamton or whoever?

…Ralsei, Susie, what are you two doing?

Okay, trash man, you better like this.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Okay, this is not what I expected to follow Jevil’s lead. But, let’s see what happens when I turn this disk in.

Oh, nothing happened. Sure it did. Just gonna walk away then…

Oh, wouldn’t you know it, something happened!

Okay, so big puppet robot man. This is terrifying.

THANK YOU SUSIE!

Roller coaster boss! Again! Oh good!

YELLOW SOUL!

Can’t write notes, gotta kill.

Spamton, oh my god. And it’s Neo’s outfit. How the fuck did I not realize before?

Im terrified, let’s GOOOOOO!

Holy shit is that the Undertale Game Over message??????

Many tries later

Okay, I think it’s actually Ralsei and Susie talking…

Quitting the game so they can get their healing items out of storage and buy some good ones extra later

Okay, third turn, and I’ve only been hit once! Granted, it did almost 50 damage to Susie, but, still, doing better this time!

Even more death later

Did he just, attack himself?

Is he surrendering?

I…I did it! I did it in one sitting! Minus quitting so I could grab healing items that did more than 40 HP!

Oh, he killed him by freeing him…….okay.

Dealmaker, huh? Let’s see what this bad boy is…

+4 defense, +5 magic (even on Kris?), and $+30%…”and…?”

Okay, Ralsei, you get that, Susie get’s Jevilstail, and I get many questions.

Alright, now back to the actual plot!

Oh…Kris has goosebumps, and Susie’s asking if they’re okay…no. I’m saying no.

I love these two so much. Now let’s save the adorable lesbian.

Pancake Batter. Alright, we’re good.

Sorry, Noelle, got distracted.

Mouse wheel!

Tasque manager helped!

Man, this room is big and empty, with an odd exit door and screens on the north wall. Hmmmm…

Toby!

Thank you annoying dog!

Okay, I still love this music. Just wanted to say that. Anyways, PROGRESS!

We’re tea covered now. Except Susie. She’s tea filled.

Oh god, I don’t trust Berdly with Susie.

God, Knight teased.

Duck ride with Fluffy Boy.

Okay, so, puzzle time, methonk.

High Five!

More duck ride!

Ralsei, do you wanna do the kissy?

Oh boy.

Oh jeez.

Oh damn.

Rouxls.

Ralsei, you read my mind.

Oh Jesus it’s the tank from the first game.

Okay, so, we, take houses? Okay.

I can’t believe some people thought this dork was Gaster.

Wow, I beat him in like 3 and a half turns because I blocked him in.

Another God Dammit because SOMEONE didn’t pay attention to what happened to Lancer.

His head is still blue…

Hey, Camera! Peace signs and hugs!

Mostly hugs.

Yay, more Susie and Noelle time!

Oh my god, my heart is breaking.

Okay, I love these adorable girls.

Oh boy, this is, weird.

“Point and hearts come out” or “Eat moss”. The choice of a generation.

Fair point, Susie.

She likes scary things, huh.

Kinky

Have I mentioned how much I love these two? Because I do.

Susie and Noelle are best girls ever, no objections.

Oh good, Berdly, don’t ruin this completely, okay?

I fucking knew it.

Noelle, you’re going to kill him, and that’s okay with me.

Susie, stop squishing him like toothpaste!

Oh boy, I get big “final boss” energy right now…

Werewerewire?!

Okay, so I just stole from Noelle’s room.

Okay, boss time.

Shit, I should’ve healed up.

Okay, so, I died, but, I can fix that!

So, this boss is calling back to how the town’s internet has gone out, a fact I didn’t even learn until watching other content last night when I should have been sleeping, because I forgot to talk to Alphys during the brief chance I had.

Also, now both she and Ralsei have made reference to the real world outside…hmmmm…

So I guess the plot is about Google search being evil…yeah that checks out.

Bitch, did you just funny runny way?

Hmm, I’d say 50/50 odds of him being a drama Queen vs. him trying to trick Susie into caring about him.

Yep, he’s trying to score a kiss. Berdly…get a job.

Alright, let’s save Noelle, and possibly the whole town.

The “Roaring” Knight?

Oh god, the determination…who is this Knight, what is going on, and how involved are we?

Wait wait wait wait wait wait WAIT

When she described the Knight making more darkness, she said they took their blade, and showed an image of a knife. Was…was this…

HOLY SHIT IS KRIS’S NIGHT SELF THE KNIGHT?!?!

Oh. It was a giant robot. Not a statue.

Susie’s dancing!

Oh yeah, he can fly.

Resistance! Yay!

Okay, so, we sentai up in this bitch.

I wonder how the hell this story would go if we didn’t go pacifist then? Because in Chapter 1, all that really changed was how the boss was defeated in the cutscene, and like a couple details later. This is, a lot more than that.

Okay, so, three rounds of HP, punch out for her turns, just keep attacking. Got it.

Two rounds down, one to go!

Yes, eat your own Baseball, bitch!

Oh, suicide attack. Well it was just a robot.

Oh. She still has us.

Oh fuck the robot is Noelle’s mom. Fuck.

Okay, so, Queen is dead.

Oh fuck, don’t take over the world with darkness all of you, please.

The Roaring?

Oh fuck, new legend lore.

Titans, Fountains, enveloping the land in devastation. Oh jeez.

Lost eternally in an endless night…that’s not paradise. That’s hell.

QUEEN IS ALIVE?!?! AND DIDN’T KNOW ANY OF THAT?!?!

Thank you, Susie!

Okay, that’s a good ending for a second chapter, it’s dark fountain time!

Susie, please don’t turn evil.

…

And, we’re in the computer lab!

Wait, Ms. Boom? Does, does Gerson have a daughter, or wife?

Lost control laughing #3: this

I love this game so much. Time to explore town again.

Okay, Alphys does crush on Undyne still, at least.

Oops, I just let all the prisoner dogs out.

Awww, Undyne likes Alphys too!

Napstablook, I love you.

Oh shit, Asgore used to be a pig?

Oh god, this Rudy storyline is gonna be depressing all the way through, huh?

Susie, can we steal the tower of the gods?

Hey, we can actually go back to Ralsei’s dark world?!

Okay, this is gonna be interesting.

Oh thank god, we can save in the epilogue now, cool.

Oh cool, King and Queen together.

Oh my god he calls her Queenie Beanie. I love this.

So, a card and a computer fucked to make Lancer, who is a card. Okay.

Okay, so Lancer DOES know Kris’s name! Just not Ralsei’s!

New battle challenges! Yes!

Might save “Ch. 2 All-stars” for another time, though…

Perfection is the mannequin reaction.

Oh my god there’s a dedicated room for listening to music I love this

Alright, time to skedaddle back to the real world.

Okay, so Alvin is Gerson’s son, and he’s depressed. Fun.

Oh, MK and Snowy are by the creepy bunker. That’s…fun.

Okay, so, Susie scared them off after they insulted Kris, because Kris said something about the bunker…hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

Hey, Nice Cream Guy is one of the Ice-E’s employees! Nice!

Ah, PizzaPants. Never change.

Oh hey, it’s the little guy, who’s clone is a Gaster follower. And the bird guy’s still in the library, and the donut guy is still in his car…

Hey, Catty and Bratty are becoming friends again! Cool!

Omg, Sans’s store is open. Do I…go in?

Hell yes I do!

Okay, so, Grillby’s music still, but, different interior. Interesting…

Sans, a day and 2 years in this game are not equivalent. It’s a day and 3 years.

The trousle grows further away.

Oh jeez Susie’s been drinking the milk. Oh god.

Cool, Susie’s seeing Onion too!

Oh, never mind.

A song is coming from deep under the water…either Shyren is involved, or this is gonna take a turn.

See you, Su-

Oh! Hey mom! Meet Susie!

Pie for all!

Oh my god, Susie, my heart is breaking.

Okay, so Alphys and Toriel know about the chalk. That, kinda makes Susie thinking she’d get expelled for it, really depressing.

Okay, so, Toriel and Susie are gonna make Pie together, that’s cool. Still, pretty worried about, Kris.

Uh, I just ran the sink, and, uh…

WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SO MY SOUL IS UNDER THE SINK, KRIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHY IS IT BLACK OUT THE WINDOW WHERE ARE YOU GOING

WHAT THE FUCK

…so we get a cute scene with Susie and Toriel, then Susie asks where Kris is and…they do this sometimes?

I’m very concerned.

Okay, Toriel is concerned too, enough to say “hell”. Even Susie is shocked.

Okay, so, they’re coming back, uh, okay, this isn’t good, right?

Stopped the faucet, opened the drawer, and…we’re back?!

Kris what the fuck are you doing

And why couldn’t we find Asgore in the town?

Okay, so, we’re all sleeping in the living room. I, guess tomorrow’s the weekend, probably? I don’t know?

Susie, doesn’t have caring parents, I guess?

Oh god, Susie wants them to come to our world, but, Lancer is a playing card, he can’t…I don’t know. I’ll say it’s “far-fetched”.

There’s a festival, apparently. This seems…suspicious.

I’d take Ralsei, so you could take Noelle.

She’s asleep.

That, might not be good, in this context.

Okay, so, we’re asleep too, I think?

Oh god, Toriel’s tires are slashed, that can not be good, in any way.

Okay, night time, Toriel and Susie are asleep…now what are you doing, Kris?

That, knife…

Okay, so, yep, they’re the Knight, and they just opened Darkness in their living room. This is, not, good. And, the tv’s on, and the door’s unlocked…

What the fuck is happening?

Ending credits song sounds, techno? Is this more of Don’t Forget? Or a remix? I hear the lyrics at least.

“To be continued in Chapter 3” OH IT BETTER BE, TOBY

So, yeah, that's Deltarune Chapter 2. In conclusion: this explains nothing, raises 120% more questions, and overall is still an incredible, wonderful game. I also like how each Chapter so far has been almost as long as a full play through of Undertale, and yet we're still somehow only 2 sevenths of the way through. Oh yeah, did I not mention? After completing it, it brought me to a chapter select with SEVEN DIFFERENT CHAPTERS, only two of which were available. So, you know. THAT'S FUN!

In actual conclusion, please play this game, it's free, it's amazing, and also buy the soundtrack on Bandcamp so Toby can make some kinda living.

[redladydeath]

jhgfdfghjkhgf i was going to just post this in the video’s comment section but for some reason that’s not working so here’re act one of the william and mary play:

Mary: Look, you’re my best friend, okay? And, um, best friends tell each other everything, right? Oh my god. Excuse me. Oh, Maria Regina, it was awful! He was awful, William, my Dutch cousin, or as father likes to call him “the Dutch Dog” *laughs*… I had the honor of being forced to dine with the extended family. My little Dutch cousin William– and was he rude! Oh my god. He spent the entire meal either staring at me or grimacing at the food. No manners. And he’s old too, like, at least thirty, not that you’d know by looking at him, he’s very short, but old enough to know better, and all that I could hear the entire time was his breathing– no, no, no– wheezing, with his tiny little child-sized mouth. *imitates wheezing* [indecipherable] –cause he had [indecipherable] big monster of a nose to use, but I guess that was out of commission. And King Charles II– God save him– and all twelve of his spaniels, seated at the table, eating off of the plates– how am I related to these people?

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shh! Shh! My sister! We’re fighting! Oh god. Uncle Charles– God save him– William... ew. I’ve never fit in with this entire family and now I find out that my sister’s been ta… my sister– No, no I will not stand here and idly gossip. My sister– no. Sh– no. Sh– no. Sh– nope! Betty!

Betty: Yes, your ladyship?

Mary: Um, take Maria Regina will you?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship. Anne has been screaming for you, your ladyship.

Mary: Yes, tell her I’m dead.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: No, don’t, that’ll get her hopes up. Tell her that I’m resting– exhausted from a fascinating dinner with our exotic Dutch cousin.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: And I can trust you all? Oh, um, and would you bring me an ink, pen, and paper?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: How’s this? Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear... girlfriend– no, no, no... lover– no, too saucy– um... husband? Yeah… it’s a woman, but we’re gonna call her a husband. Don’t get confused! Um, dearest husband, after my prayers to all-mighty God, I’ve come to make peace with you, for it is a strange thing for a man and a wife to quarrel. What more can I say to prove that I love with more zeal than any lover can? You are loved with a love never known by man–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: You are loved more than can be expressed–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: By your ever-obedient–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: SHUT UP!! –wife. But to my great sorrow, I find out that you’ve been corresponding with *whispered* my sister!

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your humble servant! To kiss the ground where you go–

Anne: What are you doing?!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your dog on a string, your fish in a net, your limber trout–

Anne: She writes me too, you know!

Mary: No, she doesn’t!

Anne: Yes, she does!

Mary: Shut up! [indecipherable] If my letter has made the effect, dear “husband”, on your hard ear, I may without scruple call you my dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband.

Anne: She is not your husband and your letter to her are weird. Also, she sends me letters and calls me her husband and loves me more than she loves you and you’re a lesbian!

Mary: That word doesn’t even exist yet, Anne!

Anne: Lesbian!

Mary: Keep your voice down!

Anne: She writes me more letters.

Mary: Our love is forbidden.

Anne: Get over yourself!

Mary: She knows unlike you I’ll be queen!

Anne: Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t even want to be queen.

Mary: Oh, good, cause you never will be.

Anne: Of course I will! When your head gets so damned big from all the bullshit praise, even your ugly, masculine, lesbian neck won’t be able to support its weight. Snap! And your head will fall off, like our poor headless grandpa Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Mary: To imagine the death of a monarch is treason, I could look you in the Tower.

Anne: You couldn’t!

Mary: When I’m queen.

Anne: You wouldn’t!

Mary: I could!

Anne: Nu-uh!

Mary: Uh-huh!

Anne: You wouldn’t be the first queen to do that to a little sister.

Mary: Well, you came in here and started it.

Anne: I know. I have something to tell you.

Mary: You could’ve waited!

Anne: I have a memory. About mummy.

Mary: Did you? Really? Would you tell me?

Anne: When we knew she wouldn’t make it much longer, she asked me to come to her bedside. She had just got her blood let, so she was speaking very openly.

Mary: It’s okay, Anne!

Anne: She asked me “Do you know why I named your older sister Mary but named you after me?”

Mary: Why?

Anne: Mummy said… “Because prefer you to that bitch older sister!”

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Mom liked me more!

Mary: I was named after a queen!

Anne: Yeah, Bloody Mary! “Oh, look at me! I’m named after a fat, bloated Tudor Catholic!”

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I just came in here to ask how dinner went.

Mary: It was lovely. Leave!

Anne: Was it? I bet it was boring.

Mary: Only for a child but when you’re fifteen years old you appreciate stimulating conversation!

Anne: [indecipherable]

Mary: Good!

Anne: Was he… stimulating?

Mary: Ew! I mean… yes.

Anne: What was he like?

Mary: Tall, dark, handsome.

Anne: Really? Tall, dark, and handsome?

Mary: Mmyeah.

Anne: I’m jealous.

Mary: You should be.

Anne: Did he stare at you?

Mary: What? No.

Anne: I guess he wouldn’t. Not after what I have heard.

Mary: Oh, I don’t even want to hear your idle gossip– what did you hear?

Anne: Oh, it’s just that father told me that Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –Tried to marry you off to him.

Mary: What?

Anne: For some Dutch alliance.

Mary: What?

Anne: Yeah. He turned you down though.

Mary: He turned me down?

Anne: Three times.

Mary: What?

Anne: And here I was going to come in and make fun of you! I thought William was a tiny little goblin man. That would’ve been so embarrassing!

Mary: Right…

Anne: If you were turned down by an ugly little goblin man.

Mary: Right…

Anne: Three times!

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Why?

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I thought he was stimulating!

Mary: I want to be alone!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re so weird! Maybe you’ll actually fit in if you didn’t lock yourself in your room all the time writing creepy letters. Some queen you’ll be! You’re friends with a fish!

Mary: Well, I will be queen whether I want to or not!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re engaged to Louis the fucking XIV, what right do you have to be mad at me?

Mary: ...Have you seen the latest portrait of Louis?

Anne: Yeah!

Mary and Anne: *squee*

Anne: He’s fucking gorgeous! Even for a Catholic!

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Anne: Milky skin, so fucking rich! Full deep eyes, tight little French ass…

Mary: Anne! God is listening!

Anne: [indecipherable] I’m just appreciating the work! Those portraits are rarely accurate though. You saw the portrait of Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –He looked like a Roman god dipped in oil.

Mary: What?

Anne: He glistened Mary! Like a buttered up Roman statue! In reality, he looks more like butter. Well… butter with syphilis.

Mary: Oh my god, you can be quite cruel Anne.

Anne: I’m destined to marry one of our fat, inbred cousins, so I’m allowed to be.

Mary: Sorry.

Anne: Yeah, it’s whatever. Well, I’m going! Unlike you I actually have friends to hang out with.

Mary: Oh, bad company ruins good morals.

Anne: Fuck you! See you at dinner.

Mary: That’s why that little Dutch dwarf was staring at me. Oh my God, could you imagine that tiny, wheezing little man crawling into your bed every night– oh my god, it’s an offensive thought! But the most offensive part? He said no! He said no to me! Oh my God, the man is a slug! William of Orange– blegh! And Uncle Charles– God save him– tried to make me marry that, not that I would’ve! No! I would’ve told him off, right to his face. I’m not afraid of him! I will not be made a sacrificial lamb. I would’ve told him off to his face! Right to his tiny, regal, little mustache: “No, Uncle! You may be king, but I will not marry that creature! Put me in chains; lock me in the Tower; feed me to the ghost of Cromwell; I absolutely refuse to marry that creature!” I would’ve told him off. I will not be made a sacrificial lamb!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, Jesus Christ.

Betty: Your uncle, King Charles II– God save him– is here your ladyship.

Mary: Okay, send him in.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

*dogs yapping*

Charles: Quiet, quiet, quiet! [indecipherable] Good doggy-woggys! Now, niece!

Mary: Oh, Uncle, God save you–

Charles: Rise dear! You’re one of the few girls at court I’d rather not see on her knees.

Mary: Oh– ew.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: I’ve just come from your mother and father’s apartments.

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Charles: Charming lady, your new mummy. She’s got those bovine hips, so I assume she’ll be plopping out heirs as soon as James’ dousing rod directs her away from foreign [indecipherable].

Mary: Oh my God.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: If God is good– and we know he is– she’ll give birth to a few boys before she’s spent. Women are quite fragile, as you know Mary. It’s especially hard with our good Stuart stock and– Oh, Dicky, no, no hump, no hump, daddy has a [indecipherable]. Might we can hope for a few younger brothers– you’d like that, wouldn’t you Mary?

Mary: Oh, yes, dear uncle. How I love being an older sister to our dear, simple Anne and how I’d revel in the opportunity to be an older sister again.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: [indecipherable] England [indecipherable] worry that another woman would take the throne.

Mary: Yes, poor England.

Charles: Yes.

Mary: Ah, ah, ah, ah!

Charles: Dicky! If that heifer can squeeze out just one little boy, England is saved! Oh, Mary, you see it’s not that women shouldn’t be involved in politics, it’s that they can’t. Their brains aren’t built for it! I don’t even know if you can comprehend what I’m saying to you right now!

Mary: I’m lost.

Charles: Yes, I assumed so. Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: *chocking, spits* [indecipherable] Go on, up! [indecipherable] Now, where were we? Yes– women are not fit to rule.

Mary: Sorry, once more.

Charles: I am king.

Mary: You are king.

Charles: I am a great king.

Mary: You are a great king.

Charles: Women… cannot be kings.

Mary: No, they’re queens.

Charles: …Very good Mary! I’m very proud. That’s a real thought you just had!

Mary: I’m lost again.

Charles: So, if I am king and women…?

Mary: Can’t be kings.

Charles: Then women…?

Mary: Can’t be great kings?

Charles: Exactly! I am very impressed with your understanding of Restoration politics. As king, I’ve found it requires tremendous subtlety. OW! Dicky, get off! Dicky, don’t let–! God, you bastard! Bite that hand that feeds you, ey? Groom of the Stool!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty?

Charles: Lock him in the Tower!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty.

Charles: You made a big mistake, Dicky! No [indecipherable] bites a sovereign.

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty!

Charles: Now, let us break our conversation into greater areas regarding your sex.

Mary: Ah, like needle crappy gossip.

Charles: And… boys.

Mary: Ah, yes, boys.

Charles: And… marriage.

Mary: Ah, yes, my purpose in life.

Charles: You a beautiful Stuart girl– Protestant– a large Protestant wedding to a regal, Protestant husband.

Mary: No, ha, Louis’ Catholic.

Charles: Louis? Yes, he’s Catholic.

Mary: Right, but you just said–

Charles: You, a beautiful Stuart girl– 

Mary: Oh no!

Charles: A large Protestant wedding–

Mary: Oh, god!

Charles: To a regal–

Mary: No!

Charles: Protestant...

Mary: Please!

Charles: Did you enjoy dinner last night? You [indecipherable] to impressed your cousin.

Mary: No.

Charles: William! Were you taken by him, Mary?

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: He was very taken by you.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: Your first cousin, so you’ll have a lot in common!

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: My dead sister’s boy! She was a real bitch.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: And you’ll have the line of succession, so you won’t have to worry about being queen, Mary. William can handle it. Sorry he’s such a cold, ugly bastard.

Mary: *spluttering*

Charles: Your Catholic father *spits* is pissed. Not surprising, but I ordered him to shut the fuck up about it. The wedding is next week. La~!

Mary: Wait! Anne!

Charles: Oh, you’re too thoughtful, dear girl! Anne will be fine on her own.

Mary: No, no, no, marry Anne off to William!

Charles: Certainly not! You’re next in line after your idiot father. We’ll marry Anne off to one of the fat, inbred cousins.

Mary: But I learned French!

Charles: And now you’ll get to learn Dutch! It’s not a beautiful language, but it matches the people. The king exits!

Mary: *sobbing*

*church music / exert of “Aria” by Marco Rosano*

Priest: Gathered! His Royal Highness Charles II!

Ensemble: GOD SAVE HIM!

Priest: The bride’s father James (the eventual second)– what? Your father refused to attend!

Mary: *sobbing*

Priest: We are gathered today in the eyes of our Protestant God to witness the eternal joining of two people, and more importantly, two nations. Our beloved England and our at-least-for-the-time-being-not-enemy Holland.

*fanfare*

Priest: The Dutch Stand Stadtholder! ...William? ...The Prince of Orange!

William: *violent coughing*

Priest: William? You good?

William: Ja.

Priest: Do you need a minute?

William: [indecipherable]

Priest: Okay! So… the, uh… the Dutch Stadtholder! The Prince of Orang– William?

William: *violent coughing* [indecipherable]

Priest: We are gathered– we are– we’re gathered– we are gathered– gathered– and we are gathered–

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Pardon?

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Sorry, I–

William: [Dutch word], stepping [Dutch word].

Priest: Oh, yes. *groaning* NOW! We are gathered for the joining of two people, two nations, and one [indecipherable] faith. Do you, Mary, take a solemn vow to obey and honor William until you’re parted by death? Okay, good. Do you, William, take a solemn vow to take Mary as your bride and treat her with whatever respect you happen to feel like showing her? Alright, whoo! You’re all good in here. You may kiss the bride.

William: *violent coughing*

*retro dance music* / exert of “Oh! Oh! I'm Goin' Home” by The Peppers

Mary: Wow. Midnight. Where did the time go?

William: Time for bed.

Mary: Right. Yup. Time for bed. It’s late and… it’s late and… it’s late and… it’s time for bed and there’s the bed, it’s time for bed and… we’re married now.

Charles: Now, nephew! To your purpose! God save Saint George and England! *giggling*

Mary: Right, historically, um, all of that actually happened. Well– oh, sorry, I was talking to someone else. Well, I guess it’s late, right? It’s late and it’s, um, time to go do– time to do– time to go do do do do do do do do doing of it. Ah! Wow. A ring… Is it for me? …Should I take it? …I’ll take it. Wow… a ruby… yes, ruby– rubies are very– rubies are red! Red. Rubies are… pink actually, now that I look at it. Funny, they’re really much more pink. Everyone always says “ruby red” but they’re much more pink when you look at it, oh look at that, it’s–

William: My mother’s.

Mary: Your mother’s? Wow. Beautiful. Ring. That was your mother’s. Ring, ruby, ring, ruby, ring–

William: She’s dead.

Mary: What? Oh, I’m sorry. About that– that she’s dead. What happened? Sorry! No, none of my business. Poor Mum! Um, my mom is dead. Died when I was a child so… I know what it’s like. To have a dead mum. *awkward laughter*

William: You don’t have to smile for me. You don’t have to pretend.

Mary: Dearest dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband– this is the woman again, um... You’ll find a pair of horns on your front door for… it appears I’ve taken another husband. Hm…

*whistle*

Anne: I brought you a going-away present. It’s another goldfish.

Mary: Thank you, sister.

Anne: I knew you already that one, so you’d like it. I hope they don’t eat each other. Do goldfish eat each other? Is it a long trip to Holland?

Mary: I don’t know!

Anne: You seem glum. Story time! When Aunt Catherine–

Mary and Anne: God save her!

Anne: Married Uncle Charlie–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: She had to leave Portugal in order to marry him. She hadn’t even met him yet, so I guess it could be worse.

Mary: Yes, but she came to England, I’m leaving it!

Anne: Yeah, fair. Just trying to help.

Mary: I don’t need your help, dear sister, this is my cross to bear.

Anne: Saint Mary the Martyr of English diplomacy! If only you were Catholic.

Mary and Anne: *spit*

*whistle*

Mary: I’ve never left London, that’s what scares me the most. God be with thee, sister. God be with thee, England.

William: …Two.

Mary: Oh. Yes, Anne got me one as a going-away pr– okay.

Anne: I hate him.

Mary: Well, he’s your brother now.

Anne: Please, I hated him when he was my cousin. I think you should be the first Protestant saint just for sleeping with him. I can’t even imagine!

Mary: …Neither can I.

Anne: WHAT?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

Mary: Well, considering we haven’t, that’s everything to tell!

Anne: Oh my God! You’ve been married a week!

Mary: This stays between you and me, Anne!

Anne: Oh, but Mary, I have to tell my friends!

Mary: I don’t like your friends!

Anne: Fuck you! The court would die if they knew!

Mary: No!

Anne: But Mary, you can’t tell something this juicy and force me to hold it inside!

Mary: Shh!

Anne: But it’s not you Mary, it’s him. That puny prig.

Mary: No.

Anne: But you don’t even like him!

Mary: What wife likes her husband?

Anne: He’s so gross and I used to think you were gross, but he’s like, super gross. Oh thank God you’re not screwing! Your kids would be so gro– I didn’t realize Papa hadn’t told you the truth about him!

Mary: Oh, what did father say?

Anne: He buggers boys. Said he buggers boys. Said if he takes the throne, England gets two queens.

Mary: …I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths, Anne… And tell my other husband I’ll send her the new address.

Anne: Gross! [indecipherable] each other!

*Dutch folk music* / exert of “Klompe Dans” by Camerata Trajectina

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Oh, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Ah, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you.

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, good day William!

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Life in Holland. It’s beautiful. It’s very, very clean.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Your ladyship?

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you! Please keep talking, Betty.

Betty: Your ladyship–

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Anything in English– thank you!

Betty: *whispers*

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

*fanfare*

Betty: Supper time!

Mary: I’m not hungry.

Betty: Not you, your ladyship.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland…

Mary: …Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

Mary: I must grin when my heart is fit to break, I must speak when my heart is so oppressed I can scarcely breathe.

Betty: Oh, that’s real pretty. The Bastard, your ladyship.

Mary: The Bastard?

Betty: Your half-cousin, King Charles II– God Save Him–’s bastard son, your ladyship.

Mary: Here?

Betty: Uh-huh.

Mary: Whoo!

Monmouth: Cousin!

William: Let me not interrupt your reunion. Continue this.

Mary: How’s home?

Monmouth: England is good! The family not so much. My father, Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –seems ill. Parliament hates your father, James (the eventual second) since he’s decided to be Catholic–

Mary and Monmouth: *spit*

Monmouth: –since we just had nine years of civil war, ugh! People would rather avoid any foreseeable royalist drama, so Parliament wrote the Exclusion Act to keep your father off the throne.

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –refused to sign it.

Mary: Oh, good.

Monmouth: No! That’s why [indecipherable] is shit! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –dissolved Parliament, hoping to form a more moderate one.

Mary: Oh, good!

Monmouth: No! Bad! A group of Protestants then tried to blow up my papa Charlie–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –on his way back from a race to [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: Oh yes!

Monmouth: –[indecipherable] watching the race, ALL OF NEWMARKET CAUGHT ON FIRE!!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No, that’s good! Charles’– God save him– house in Newmarket was destroyed, so they had to leave the race early, thus foiling the plot to kill him!

Mary: Oh, God is very generous to our family. And how’s Anne?

Monmouth: Married.

Mary: Oh, to one of the inbred cousins?

Monmouth: We’re royal! Inbred cousins are the only dignified option! How’s life in the Dutch court?

Mary: Um… clean, it’s very, very clean.

Monmouth: Ah, thank God you have William.

Mary: *hysterical laughter* ...Yes. No, I do see William from time to time. He likes to walk from stage left to stage right to stage right to stage left.

Monmouth: Incredibly generous man– looking forward to our dinner tonight! He invited me to hunt tomorrow and all the rest of next week! Very charming!

Mary: You’ve only been onstage for a minute and a half!

Betty: There are more officials for you to meet, your ladyship.

Monmouth: See you around, cuz. Ch-cha! …Ch-cha!

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

William: …Welkom in Nederland! *laughter, interrupted by violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Alright! Her ladyship has another engagement she must prepare for, so sorry!

Mary: Ugh, what’s next Betty?

Betty: Nothing, your ladyship. I just think you’ve been gawked at enough today.

Mary: Oh, thank you Betty!

Betty: What’s a lady-in-waiting for?

Mary: But I’m afraid William might be cross once he finds out I didn’t finish all the state greetings. I guess I’d actually have to spend time with him for him to be cross with me.

Betty: He’s not one to get cross about things; he’s quite charming actually if you get past the hermetic silence.

Mary: I suppose he prefers the company of *whispered* his men?

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: *laughing*

William: *starts coughing violently*

Monmouth: I love this guy!

*fanfare*

Betty: You’ve heard that already, have you?

Mary: Is it true?

Betty: Rumors, your ladyship. I also heard rumors of a girl who wrote letters to a woman she called her husband. And I now know a woman who still writes these letters!

Mary: Dismissed!

Betty: Your ladyship.

Mary: Wait. Put the children to bed, will you? Wait– wait, wait wait– just [indecipherable]. Don’t judge me! Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– stop!– husband… Let me start again: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband: You’ve not responded to any of my letter as of late!

Anne: Dearest sister!

Mary: Oh good God, Anne! Still able to interrupt me from across the English Chanel!

Anne: It is with good nice that I write. Since we last spoke… I’m pregnant!

Mary and Anne: *squeeing*

Anne: I know! I know! I fucking know! Ah, someone has to produce some heirs in this family!

Mary: Hey…

Anne: What have you been up to? Oh! My friends are here! Thank you, sis!

Mary: Anne is pregnant. My younger sister is pregnant …I’m jealous! Ugh!

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: To hunt!

Monmouth: ♪ I’ll sing you eight, O! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Green grow the rushes, O! ♪

William: ♪ What are your eight, O? ♪

Monmouth: ♪ Eight for the April Rainers! ♪

William: ♪ Seven for the seven stars in the sky! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Six for the six proud walkers! ♪ Five for the symbols at your door! ♪ Four for the Gospel makers! ♪ THREE, THREE THE RIVALS! ♪ Two, two the lily-white boys! ♪ Clothed all in green, O! ♪ One is one and all alone! ♪ And evermore shall be so! ♪

*fanfare*

Mary: Betty!

Betty: *imitating the song*

Mary: Stop!

Betty: Oh! Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: My cousin, the Bastard, and Prince William have been spending an awful lot of time together!

Betty: William loves the hunt.

Mary: How do you know?!

Betty: He told me!

Mary: You’ve spoken with him? Am I the only person in the entire world who’s not had a single conversation with my husband?!

Betty: You just need to catch him in the right mood.

*fanfare*

Mary: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– Oh my God, you’re pathetic! Two husbands and neither one replies!

Anne: Okay, so I wasn’t pregnant. Well, I was, but I’m not anymore.

Mary: Oh… Anne I’m so sorry!

Anne: I know. But I will be again. Maybe tonight! God be with me!

Mary: I don’t have to be Mary the Martyr. I can fix him. I can make it work. It’s a job, right? I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I’m just doing my job!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! Um, I was wondering–

William: Nothing!

Monmouth: The hunt did not go well!

William: Ugh!

Anne: Yup, pregnant!

Mary: Again? Wow!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’d love to talk with you!

William: …but–but–but we’re going to the hunt?

Mary: Yes, but I’d really like to talk with you.

William: …Okay?

Mary: In private.

William: Um… After the hunt?

Mary: Yeah, okay, sure.

*fanfare*

Anne: Okay, that pregnancy wasn’t meant to be, but tonight, THIS IS THE ONE!

Mary: Tonight, this is the one!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’m so looking forward to our evening!

William: Not in the mood!

Monmouth: The stag got away!

*fanfare*

Mary: The stag got away…

Anne: Pregnant!

Mary: Ugh!

*fanfare*

Mary: William, wait! Tonight?

William: Eh!

Mary: Wait! Here, for good luck!

Monmouth: *retching*

*fanfare*

Mary: Tonight! Tonight!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, husband! How was the hunt?

William: I got the stag!

Mary: Oh, you must be very merry!

William: I… uh… I’m exhausted. Ugh…

Monmouth: Come on. Shake it off.

William: *violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Mary: I will force myself to love this creature.

*fanfare*

Mary: *screams* ...Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! It must have been a chill!

William: [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh, oh no! Oh no! Oh, my slipper! Oh, I–I’m so sorry to, uh, keep you from you duties!

William: I’ve been meaning to schedule a time for our talk.

Mary: Oh, you remembered?

William: What was the subject?

Mary: Us. You and me. Us and our… duties.

William: Ah. Our political duties are not as rulers, but as first citizens. Stadtholder means “the first citizen.” It is very different from life in England. For example, no Dutch citizen kisses my hand. In the Netherlands, we are all equals. Calvinists, Protestants, Jews– even the Jews Mary. [indecipherable] Do you like Holland?

Mary: Oh, it’s very, very clean. I’m not, um… I’m not sure if I’m fitting in.

William: Well, I don’t fit in and I was born here.

Mary: I feel the same way about my family.

William: Our family.

Mary: You’re very close to the Bastard, you know. Hunting and… actually talking and I was thinking, now that we’re actually talking, Anne is pregnant… again.

William: Ja? ...Yes? …This life is not the life you wanted, is that a true thing I just said? Bastard! Where is [indecipherable]?!

Monmouth: *whispers*

William: Your uncle, Charles II–

Mary: God save him!

William: –he’s dead.

Charles: …Oh.

Anne: I had a miscarriage. Oh, and Daddy’s the king now. God save him.

William: To his newly crowned majesty– James II– I send you greetings–

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James II! Boy, you’re the husband of my eldest daughter, the heir apparent to the throne of England, my father’s grandchild, my son-in-law: it’s King James II!

William: Ah. From one very close ally to another very, very close ally– that is what we still are, right?

James: Say it! Say my name, William!

William: King James II?

James: YES! That’s me, the king! Say it again!

William: King James II, I first wish to send you condolences on the death of your brother, God save hi–

James: I was at his bed when he passed.

William: Surely, you provided much comfort to Charles–

James: Oh, “surely provided much comfort to Charles,” yes! He converted, on his deathbed, to Catholicism!

William: *spits*

James: I’ll never forget his final words to me: “Make sure my whores don’t starve!” Men of power keep mistresses, you know… Do you know that, William?

William: …Well, uh, the reason I write is because, well, I have an offer for you. You see, here in Europe we have a little club. I call it “a league”. Not everyone is allowed into it, actually, but England most definitely would be allowed in “the league”. It is what may be described as “exclusive”. A lot of really great countries have joined: uh, Austria, Spain, the Netherlands, even Savoy.

James: Which countries are not allowed?

William: France.

James: Oh, don’t like Louis, do we?

William: No, I don’t! Louis wants to be king of Europe and he– he is routinely invading us here in Holland. Your son-in-law: who is that? That is me! Which I know you aren’t thrilled about, but your daughter is the Princess of Orange. Louis XIV is invading not just my country, but also her country.

James: Please. Mary’s country is, and always will be, England!

William: And as the future Queen of England, you should protect her.

James: I wouldn’t be so sure about Mary. While she is the eldest, she’s still a woman, and unlike you, William, I plan to perform kingly duties with my queen.

William: I just wanted to invite you to our league.

James: I’m very important, I’ve got to go.

William: France is at our borders as we speak!

James: That’s not my problem. Mary was betrothed to him for years, you know, before she married you. My idiot brother made that happen against my protests but I’m the king now! I wasn’t supposed to be, but God wanted me. God needs me! Sixty years of second-fiddle to King Syphilis and now I’m calling the shots, William! I don’t need you, you need me, and frankly, I don’t really like you.

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!

William: Why you do that?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!! Thank you. Ooo, ooo, how they all loved my brother Charles the Pervert– forced me to marry my daughter to that Dutch abortion! Now, I’d like to speak to the court! You all like… gossip, don’t you? Let’s talk about William.

*retro music / exert of “O Samba Brasileiro” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: They’re laughing, Maria Regina. They’ve been whispering all morning and I don’t– I don’t want to sound paranoid but… I hear my name. I hear William’s name and I hear… Betty’s name.

Messengers: God save him!

Mary: Hello?

Messenger 1: Your father sends us–

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: James II–

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Oh, Father sends you?

Messengers: God save him, yes!

Messenger 2: In his infinite and divine wisdom, we were sent to you–

Messenger 1: His oldest daughter–

Messenger 2: Possibly the future queen–

Mary: Possibly?

Messenger 1: Your mother, the queen–

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Messenger 2: Is hoping to reward England with many sons–

Messenger 1: But one’s eyes are to the future–

Messenger 2: He hasn’t forgotten his eldest.

Mary: Oh, we haven’t spoken–

Messenger 1: He thinks of you often.

Mary: Well, he doesn’t write.

Messenger 1: It’s not that he thinks of you as you are–

Mary: Okay…?

Messenger 2: More for what you could be.

Mary: Well, I’m just happy that he’s thinking of me.

Messenger 2: He’s thinking of your soul.

Messenger 1: Your eternal soul.

Messenger 2: Your eternal, everlasting soul.

Mary: Yup, those both mean the same thing.

Messenger 1: Since Jesus was crucified–

Messenger 2: [indecipherable], mind you–

Mary: Yes, I’ve heard.

Messenger 1: A church was born–

Messenger 2: The Catholic Church!

Mary: *spits* Oh, sorry, habit.

Messenger 1: James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has sent us–

Messenger 2: In his infinite and sacred judgment–

Messengers: To convert you to Catholicism!

Mary: …Yeah, no, I’m good.

Messenger 1: It’s the true faith.

Mary: Yes, next time he could just write.

Messenger 2: [indecipherable] reading materials!

Mary: Right, or even visit–

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] all the celebrities are Catholic.

Messenger 2: Wow, really?

Messenger 1: Really!

Messengers: Like who?

Messenger 2: The pope, you ever heard of him?

Messenger 1: Of course! Wow, the pope is Catholic?

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: God!

Mary: Debatable.

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: Louis XIV.

Messenger 1: Whoah, he’s a heartthrob.

Mary: Yes, okay, I’ve heard enough!

Messenger 1: But Louis’ such a hunk!

Messenger 2: And Catholic!

Messenger 1: And… He’s Catholic?

Messenger 2: You better believe it!

Messengers: A Catholic hunk!

Mary: Okay, I’m married!

Messenger 1: For now.

Mary: …Excuse me?

Messenger 1: Hard to ignore the rumors–

Messenger 2: Naughty rumors–

Messenger 1: Everyone’s tittling–

Messenger 2: A-tittle here, a-tittle there–

Messengers: Tittle everywhere!

Messenger 1: That little Dutch devil–

Messenger 2: Evil Protestant pervert–

Mary: Oh, no, no, no, him buggering boys– that’s just a rumor!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messengers: Buggering boys?!

Messenger 1: More like buggering the help.

Messenger 2: Dutch devil!

Mary: With the help?

Messengers: Buggering the help.

Messenger 1: Yes, everyone knows–

Messenger 2: Knows her name even.

Mary: Do you know their name?

Messenger 1: Well, I’ve said everyone–

Messenger 2: We’re part of everyone–

Mary: So, yes?

Messengers: Yes!

Mary: What’s his name?

Messenger 1: His name?

Messenger 2: His name?

Messengers: Squinty Betty!

Messenger 1: Squinty Betty’s a man?

Messenger 2: I didn’t know she was a man!

Messeger 1: No, I bet Betty’s a man.

Messenger 2: No, man, she’s a wo-man.

Messenger 1: Wo-man?

Messengers: Wo-man, she’s a wo-man!

Mary: Wait, Squinty Betty?!

Messenger 1: And the Dutch devil!

Messenger 2: Evil Dutch devil!

Messenger 1: Evil!

Messenger 2: Evil: that’s not good!

Messenger 1: No, it’s not good!

Messenger 2: That’s the opposite of good!

Messengers: And what’s the opposite of good?

Mary: Evil!

Messangers: *scream*

Mary: *screams*

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has the fires burning.

Mary: Fires?

Messenger 2: To feel the heat.

Messenger 1: Ow!

Messenger 2: Careful.

Messenger 1: It’s the heat.

Messenger 2: I feel it.

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] King James [indecipherable] our beloved England [indecipherable] burning more evil people than Charles ever did.

Mary: Wait, he’s burning people?

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: He’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Father’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Jesus!

Messengers: Praise him!

Messenger 1: Praise Jesus!

Messenger 2: Praise God!

Messenger 1: Praise the pope!

Messenger 2: And above all, praise the king!

Messengers: God save King James II, long may he reign!

Mary: …William and Betty– no… No, I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths… Betty! Um, throw these away. And, um, put the children to bed, will you? Oh– oh– oh– oh– oh, um… question: how is it you always to find William in such a talkative mood?

Betty: I just run into him.

*laid back retro music / exert of “Rain” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: It’s late. No, you don’t have to leave. You were in Betty’s room. Do you know how I know that? Maybe because the entire court is talking about it! No, you don’t need to talk! I have tried to get you to talk for months, you do not need to talk now! Fuck off, Betty! The longest I’ve ever spent with you is [indecipherable]. You’re impossible! You’re thick! Uncaring! Cruel! My life here is suffering and now you make me the fool? To my father, to the court, and to myself! I’m the fool! You know, it was better when I thought you were gay; I thought “Well, at least it’s not my fault” but now I know, “No, it is my fault!” You turned down marrying me once before, why did you have to say yes this time? I was engaged to Louis XIV! I could’ve been in Versailles, in the most beautiful place on Earth and I would’ve been happy– no, I would be happy! And I would be liked and my family would love me and I would’ve done everything right, but then you came along! And ruined it! And everything! And me! And– this isn’t right! No! This is not how this was supposed to go! It was supposed to be me and Louis and it would’ve been right and normal and then I would be normal and happy and I don’t know– I don’t know why you had to say yes this time! Louis– Louis– Louis is– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis’ the king! Right? Right? And he’s beautiful! I assume. I’ve seen the portraits– which are rarely accurate– but I’ve always wanted to marry him! Well, I was always supposed to marry him– but at least he’s nice! Yes, I’ve not met him, but at least I’ve heard that he’s ni– well, I guess I’ve actually not heard anything, but I was alway supposed to ma– Well, I guess I always– Okay, well, I guess I’ve never really actually thought about it! Well, I guess I never actually like Louis, or men… Men in general. I mean, I write to a woman who I call my husband, and I’ve always had a crush on her, but she’s not very nice to me, and she writes to my sister more than she writes to me, AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’M A LESBIAN, OKAY?! I don’t like men! But I don’t know if I like women either– historically speaking, there’s some things we just can’t know about me, okay, historically speaking– but personally speaking, you know what? I’M FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!! How am I supposed to know?! You know what? No! I didn’t want to marry Louis, now that I think about it, because, well, I never actually thought about it because, well, I’M NEVER SUPPOSED TO THINK! But I am gonna think! Like you said, we’re just first citizens here, right? So I’m allowed to think! So I’m gonna think! So I’m gonna think! Right, let me think! …Okay. I have something to say. I’m fifteen years old, William. Do you have any idea how scary this is? Leaving my country, marrying you, a stranger, I… I don’t speak the language, I don’t have any friends, and you, my husband, are still a stranger. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to like me. But please don’t be cruel to me. I… I do not know how much… more a fifteen year old girl can take.

William: …Betty’s a spy. Before I married you, I had asked her to inform me about you.

Mary: Yeah, a spy, that’s the best you could come up with–

William: It’s true.

Mary: Yes, my lady-in-waiting is a spy! …Well, what did Betty the spy say?

William: She said you weren’t like your family.

Mary: Well, I tried to be like them.

William: I never tried.

Mary: Well, I think that makes you honest.

William: But not liked.

Mary: Well, they don’t like either of us. We share that at least.

William: I need to say something.

Mary: Okay! Good! Yeah! Okay! I’m here! I can listen! …Is it a problem? Is it personal? Is it about what I think it’s about? I know what it is, William.

William: You do?

Mary: Yes. It’s about–

Mary and William: Your penis / Your father

William: Wait, what?!

Mary: What about my father?

William: He terrifies me.

Mary: Oh, yeah, me too.

William: The balance of peace in this world is a delicate thing and James isn’t.

Mary: You can talk to me about these things, William. I know who my father is, you’re not going to hurt my feelings.

William: Yes… My penis?

Mary: Oh, um, well, I mean… why haven’t we…?

William: I’m uncomfortable around–

Mary: Me.

William: …people.

Mary: Oh, yeah, well, same, haha... But, um… It’s just a job, right? We would just be… doing our… our job.

*classical music / exert of “Zadok The Priest, Hwv 258″ by the English Chamber Orchestra*

William: *panting*

William: *panting*

William: *panting*

Mary: I HAVE NEWS! …I’M PREGNANT!! I did it! William did it! We, um… well, obviously, we did it. Oh my God, I feel a strange thing!

William: Are you okay?!

Mary: No! Yes! No! …I feel… happy.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: Hello, Anne!

Anne: Hello, Mary.

Mary: You’re pregnant?

Anne: No, Mumsy is.

Mary: She’s not our mother.

Anne: They say if it’s a boy, God has chosen to make England Catholic again, but that’s only a 50-50 chance.

Mary: No, he wouldn’t baptize him Catholic, Anne.

Anne: I wouldn’t be so sure.

Mary: But we’ve just had nine years of civil war, why would he lead us into another?

Anne: To save us from the Dutch Devil.

William: Me?

Anne: I prefer “the Dutch Abortion” but “devil” isn’t bad. Gotta go!

Mary: God be with thee, Anne.

Anne: P.S. I may be pregnant, not sure.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Mary: Ohhh!

Messengers: Glorious day!

Messenger 1: Tra-la!

Messenger 2: We’ve been sent to you by your father, the king!

Messenger 1: God save him!

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Again, he could always just write.

Messenger 1: He has his own pregnancy to attend to.

Messenger 2: His future son!

Mary: Are you certain about that?

Messenger 1: God ordained it!

Messenger 2: A Catholic England!

Messengers: Tra-la!

Messenger 1: We’ve been sent to beseech you.

Messenger 2: Consider your child’s–

Messenger 1: Everlasting soul!

Messenger 2: Baptize your child in the Catholic faith!

Mary: *spits* …morning sickness.

Messenger 1: For your child!

Messenger 2: For your father!

Messenger 1: You must respect him!

Messenger 2: Honor him!

Messenger 1: It’s in the Bible!

Messenger 2: “Honor thy father”!

Messengers: The Fifth Commandment!

Messenger 1: Honor the king of England!

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: Long may he reign!

Messenger 2: For England!

Messengers: Make the baby Catholic!

William: Mary?

Mary: Yes?

William: Honor is not obeying.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: You’re pregnant.

Anne: Besides that, Mary, but yes.

Mary: Oh, congratulations!

Anne: Yes, same to you!

Mary: Thank you!

Anne: Thank you! I have news: people are talking about Mother’s pregnancy–

Mary: Ah, she’s not our mother.

Anne: –And they think it’s all a big fake! Everyone is saying how [video skips]

Mary: Who’s saying that?

Anne: The court, Parliament, everyone! Oh, they don’t like Papa; they say every nineteen out of twenty want him gone.

Mary: Yes, but not likely cause the king does not–

William: Mary–

Anne: Ew!

Mary: Anne!

Anne: Sorry… Hello, William… glad you got my sister pregnant. *retches*

Mary: No. No, it’s not right for me to dance… No! No, I can have this moment! I can be happy! Yeah, nothing’s gonna stop me– *claps* –from enjoying this moment! Go ahead!

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Monmouth: Ah! I thank you for the generosity both you and William have shown me over the last undetermined period of time, but I must leave.

William: Oh, where’re you going? I was going to plan another hunt.

Monmouth: There comes a time in every mans life where the cruel, [indecipherable] eye of destiny looks upon him! The hero of every story has his moment of action! [indecipherable] standing on the precipice of glory to see the apotheosis of my journey’s end on that glorious mountain green! Today I sail! This story shall no longer wander unguided like an orphan clinging from one vague historical anecdote to another! No! Search no longer, poor play, for you have found your hero! And that hero… it’s me. Someone has to save our England! I have a mighty army of almost one hundred men! Eighty two to be exact!

Mary: Wait, with eighty two men you’re planning to–

Monmouth: Invade England, seize the crown, depose your father, my uncle, and save England from Catholic *spits* tyranny?

Mary: You’re planning on doing this with…

Monmouth: Eighty two men! Historically, this is what I did, so yah. [indecipherable] sweet cousin, it will be a Protestant England! ALL HAIL KING BASTARD THE FIRST! CHA-CHAH! Ah! He-yaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Mary: Eighty two men can’t overthrow the king of England!

William: He’s hoping the people will rise.

Mary: What would they do to father?

William: Kill him.

Mary: Ah! Ah!

William: Okay, okay, okay! The Bastard doesn’t have any support, your father will be fine! You can have this moment; you deserve to be happy.

Mary: How? I may not like my family, but I love them. Yes, I-I deserve to be happy, but Father doesn’t deserve to die!

William: He won’t, he’ll be fine!

Mary: You can’t know that for sure.

William: I do! …I-I promise you– I-I… I promise on the life of our child that nothing will happen to your father. I’ll see to it.

Mary: You will?

William: Mmhm.

Mary: …Okay… Okay, yes, okay… I’m happy.

William: Rest. Nurse? Take my wife to her bedchamber. Make sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Mary: Ooo!

William: [indecipherable]. James?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James?! Use my full title!

William: I have grave news.

James: Oh, has France invaded you again?

William: Your nephew, the Duke of Monmouth–

James: Who?

William: …The Bastard.

James: Oh, why didn’t you say?! How is the lad?

William: He’s leading an army to depose you and take the crown for himself.

James: *laughs* You’re having a laugh! …Shit! How dare he! Doesn’t he know who I am?! I’m the king! I’m very well respected and loved– everybody loves me! *gasps* Why doesn’t he love me?! Oh, he’s just a little shit bastard, I’ll crush him! How dare he not see how awesome I am! How powerful and strong and– oh! I am so mad right now! It was a good day too, it was going really well, I had just finished telling the queen “I’m gonna make it a good one today, you know!” Ugh, I am so mad right now I’m literally shaking! *gasps* I need to eat something!

William: I hope you now see that our relationship is very…

*execution drums / exert from “March to the Scaffold” by Paul Edward*

Headsman: *giggling* For your crimes against the crown, you are sentenced to death!

James: Say hello to your father for me, boy. Any last words?

Monmouth: Fuck off!

James: How dare you! Kill the bastard!

Headsman: God save the king!

James: No one questions my authority!

Monmouth: Piss off!

James: Bastard?!

Monmouth: I have still a few [indecipherable]

James: How dare you! [indecipherable]

Headsman: Thank you. One more!

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh?

Monmouth: You are!

James: Bastard! [indecipherable] I am not a douchebag, I am the king of England!

Monmouth: Douche of England more like it!

James: Cut off his head!

Headsman: [indecipherable] does anyone want to take over, huh?

Monmouth: It takes– ugh! –and this is all true– ugh! –five blows! Ugh! King Douche II! Ugh– *splutters*

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh? Not me. I am not a douche! You hear me, Bastard?! I am not a douche! You hear me, England? I am not a douche! I am King James II! Not King Douche II! King James II! Charles didn’t respect me, and you, you didn’t respect me, but my people will. OR I’LL FUCKING MAKE THEM! They will fucking tremble in love and adoration– ohh! I want hundreds to pay for this bastard’s actions! I don’t care who they were, if they even so much as saw him walk by, they are to be executed. Churchyard trees are to be littered with corpses, the military men will be order to play in time with the twitching of their feet! And if you think that this is too much, too cruel, I’ll remind you: One, I am just being historically accurate, and two, I am the goddamn motherfucking King of England! William!

William: …your majesty.

James: Oh, I couldn’t’ve done it without you! …But I know what this is. Scared to lose a few more windmills to Louis, huh? What, you thought that you could bribe me with this little quid-pro-quo?

William: I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Mary.

James: Mary? Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this. What? You thought that I was so stupid that little nugget of information would have me on all-fours like a whipped bitch begging to do you any favor you asked? No! That little shit was nothing! I could have fought him off while wiping my ass! I owe you nothing! France may be at your borders, but England could join them just as easily! God knows Louis and I talk about it. *laughs* Tip-toe around me, William. Now, I’d like to speak to my daughter. Now!

William: Mary, could you come here, please? I have a letter for you from your father.

Mary: He’s safe! Thank you, William!

James: Mary, my eldest daughter! *laughs* You know, I fought your uncle Charles about you having to marry that–

Mary: [indecipherable] William’s wonderful, actually. Yes, I–I miss my home very much, but Holland, it’s very, very clean.

James: [indecipherable] they tell me you’re considering a Catholic baptism.

Mary: Oh, no I’m not, Father.

James: You have a responsibility to me, Mary. Biblically, I am your father and you must honor me.

Mary: Well– I do honor you.

James: Then you must obey me.

Mary: Well, honor is not obeying.

James: From King Douche II to you now?

Mary: King Douche?

James: How dare you! I am very [indecipherable] you talk back to me. I am your father and you must honor me!

Mary: Enough of this.

James: You will make the child Catholic!

Mary: Stop!

James: We all know you have no choice. You’re a prisoner.

Mary: Please…

James: [indecipherable], Mary, there’s hope in the distance!

Mary: What are you suggesting?

James: Just because you… lie with the Dutch Dog doesn’t mean you need to get its flees.

Mary: He’s my husband!

James: *laughs* William isn’t long for this world.

Mary: What are you planning?

James: Oh, come now!

Mary: What are you plann– ah! Ah!

James: *laughs* You look like him. Can’t even walk without wheezing, spits blood; your time in the tower is almost over, Mary.

Mary: He is the father of my child. William, could you come here, please?

James: *scoffs* Is he the father? Last I heard, he couldn’t perform.

Mary: You’re one to talk!

James: My performance isn’t to be questioned!

Mary: I know the rumors of the queen’s great belly!

James: [indecipherable] rumors: just a few!

Mary: Nineteen out of twenty! That’s what– ah! Ah!

James: Make the child Catholic!

Mary: *spits*

James: Your mother–

Mary: She’s not my mother!

James: No, your real mother! Remember the day she died?

Mary: Please, Father, I’m in pain! I don’t want–

James: The day she died the priest came to administer her last rites, to cleanse her soul. Without it, your mother would be damned for all eternity! Her skin would scorch, blisters would form– weeping blisters!

Mary: *voice breaking* …William?

James: A priest came… and she refused him.

Mary: William! …That’s a lie!

James: After my counseling she refused the Protestant priest. The Catholic bishop was called in and all was confessed. So, in your philosophy, Mary, is it your mother or your child who’s damned to unfathomable pain and suffering? Which is the one true faith? If you baptize that child Protestant, it means you believe it’s your mother suffering, right now as we speak. Have you ever considered hellfire, Mary? *laughs* It’s something to think about. Oh! Your new mummy’s in labour now. Got to run.

Anne: Mary– and William *scoffs*– the queen’s had a baby. It’s a boy. They’ve baptized him Catholic *spits* toldja so. But there’s something else. I have some gossip! All of London– they think it’s a changeling! They think it’s not a real child. They think she snuck a child into her bed to pass off as our brother! Oh! Papa’s going mad. Something’s going to happen. Something bad.

William: May I see it?

Betty: There’s nothing to see. ...You should go to her, William.

*dramatic music / exert from “2020” by SUUNS*

♪ And what you see is really what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ Do what you please, the thing what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ And what you see you feel ♪ ♪ Coming real, take your way ♪ ♪ All through the way… ♪

~ Intermission ~

*guitar strumming*

Chorus: ♪ Good fortune [indecipherable] William and Mary [indecipherable]-tend ♪ ♪ May glories increase and their lives never end ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] daily successes our nation may find ♪ ♪ For England [indecipherable] they both are designed ♪

Mary: William?

William: Huh?

Mary: Why is there a Greek chorus?

William: [indecipherable] chorus now.

Mary: Yes, why?

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commands and we will obey ♪ ♪ Over the hills and far away ♪

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! What story with a Greek chorus ends well?!

William: It’s just a device, Mary, it doesn’t mean–

Mary: The letter! They’re here because of the letter!

William: We received a letter?

Mary: From England. They call themselves–

Chorus: ♪ THE IMMORTAL SEVEN! ♪

Mary and William: The Immortal Seven.

Mary: Parliament has invited us to England.

William: They’ve invited us to invade England.

Mary: Why would they do that?

William: I don’t know.

Mary: We can’t invade!

Chorus: ♪ Invade you must, there’s no time to waste ♪ ♪ James is a monster! Our country defaced ♪ ♪ Blood in the streets and corpses in trees ♪ ♪ Come and put our minds at ease ♪

William: Your father is in talks to invade with Louis. Where? Here! He’s–he’s had his boy and he’s baptized him Catholic and all of England is on the brink of Civil War again!

Mary: What does that have to do with us?

William: Um, well… They want us to depose your father.

Mary: It has to be us?

William: I don’t see another alternative.

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! Is it right?

William: Right? We–we save England, we save the Netherlands, we keep Europe in balance– yes.

Mary: But is it right for a daughter to depose her father? It’s the Fifth Commandment, right? “Honor thy father!”

William: He doesn’t need to die.

Mary: Well, I know my history, William! You only depose a king by killing him. How many former kings do you see walking around?! But… He can’t invade Holland! It’s your country and you care so much for it and the people and it’s so very, very clean– Okay, yes! We should do this. But we have to do it a different way. No blood. No killing. If it’s an invasion, it has to be a bloodless invasion!

William: I don’t know…

Mary: Can you try?

William: Invade one of the most powerful countries in the world, other-throw its king, and not hurt anyone in the process?

Mary: Please?

William: …Ja.

Chorus: *gasps* ♪ What’s that you say? ♪ ♪ We prick up our ears ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] you come ♪ ♪ To end all our fears ♪ ♪ Think of what you both could be ♪ ♪ You’ll go down in history! ♪

Mary: We could, couldn’t we! Imagine all that “First Citizen” stuff here in the Netherlands– we could do that in England! You could bring all of your wonderful ideas to my country! Imagine: Freedom of religion!

William: Freedom of the press!

Mary: And no more torturing! Or bloody pomp and circumstance! And we do it bloodless! We ride into England and the people will rise with us and father will say “Oh wow, that’s what the people want!” And it’ll all work out [indecipherable] Why shouldn’t we be king and queen?! Neither one of us want the damn job so we’re the ones who should have it…

William: Would I be king?

Mary: Yes.

William: Who would you be?

Mary: The queen.

William: Right, but who’s the one in charge?

Mary: …Oh.

William: It would be you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Oh, me? No. 

Chorus: *murmuring in agreement*

Mary: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’d rather not.

William: It’s not up to you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Ah, but you! You–you are after me!

William: Right, but you still come first.

Mary: But I don’t want to be queen– okay, wait, wait! Let me think… Okay, solution. ….We’ll… both be king and queen!

William: It does not work that way.

Mary: [spluttering] Listen! We go to England; you raise an army and depose– aw– depose father and then we say “Alright! We’re both king and queen!” What’re they gonna do, say no?

William: Joint monarchs– it would be a first.

Mary: [indecipherable] I don’t know if it’s right. God says to honor thy father, but… that doesn’t feel right.

William: We can say no, Mary.

Mary: No… You okay?

Anne: Yes, quite, sister.

Mary: Okay, good.

Anne: Stop staring at me!

Mary: Let’s keep going. And my heart says to bother you.

William: Your heart says that? What do we want to do?

Chorus: ♪ To England, to England! We sail, we sail! To England, to England! At last, at last! A tempest, a tempest! Begins, begins! And [indecipherable], and [indecipherable]! [indecipherable], [indecipherable]! ♪

Soloist: ♪ To England, we sail / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ The men are afraid ♪ ♪ There’s no debate ♪ ♪ Revolution now must wait ♪

*storm sounds*

Mary: Ahh!

William: THEY’RE CALLING IT THE CATHOLIC WIND! WE CANNOT SAIL FOR ENGLAND UNTIL IT PASSES! WE’VE ALREADY LOST A THOUSAND HORSES! WE HAVE FORTY THOUSAND MEN WAITING TO INVADE– BUT THIS WIND!!

Mary: There have been so many omens! This wind; the miscarriage! Is it a sign from God?! Can a daughter who deposes her father be a Christian?! Can doing what’s right and God’s will be at odds?!

William: WHAT?!

Mary: CAN DOING WHAT’S RIGHT AND GOD’S WILL BE AT ODDS?!

William: Oh, it is over.

Chorus: ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ William and Mary, our God has ordained ♪ ♪ Rex and Regina, this we say ♪ ♪ Sail on the future king’s birthday ♪

Mary: Wait, really?

William: Ja. It’s my birthday. The fourth. Historically, that’s just how it happened to work out.

Mary: Oh! Well, that’s a good omen, right? Happy birthday to you!

William: Yes.

Mary: William, wait! Look… I respect you. And, under normal circumstances, I would never breach this, um, unspoken agreement, but, um, it’s his birthday– ah, could we– um, uh– you know– could we do just one round of “Happy Birthday”? Um, what’s a good starting note? *hums* Is that good? *hums* Ready?

Mary, chorus, and audience: ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday dear William! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to your! ♪

*cheering*

William: This is the greatest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you.

Chorus: ♪ William has come and we will defend ♪ ♪ To kick out the tyrant and and then will ascend ♪ ♪ His first steps on English soil ♪ ♪ Defender of faith and [indecipherable] ♪

William: Hello? Where the hell is everyone?

Peasant: *screams* Oh, it’s [indecipherable] Day. Everyone’s busy catching cats.

William: Ah. Well, um, I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith and– wait, why are you catching cats?

Peasant: To [indecipherable] the pope.

William: Ah. Well, I am William of Orange, Defende– the pope?

Peasant: *sighs* Not the real one sadly, but yeah. [indecipherable] cats and set them on fire.

William: Why you do this?

Peasant: For God! It’s tradition! …You’re not from around here are ya, foreigner!

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolu– ♪

Peasant: [indecipherable] you are making such a racket!

William: I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith!

*cat screeches*

Peasant: [indecipherable] you scared the cat!

William: Good woman, have you not heard of our coming?

Peasant: …[indecipherable] in England?

William: I–

Peasant: [indecipherable] and whip em til their backs be bloody!! Ngyeehhhhhhhhh!!

William: *screams* I AM WILLIAM OF ORANGE! I COME FROM THE HAGUE BY INVITATION OF PARLIAMENT! Good lady! We come to overthrow King James II.

Peasant: *spits*

William: Progress. I am the [indecipherable]’s husband and myself, third in line. We come to bring stability and religious… freedom to this… country.

Peasant: Oh, you and what army?

Chorus: ♪ We are [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ Join is so you [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ James will soon be overthrown ♪

Peasant: Oh, [indecipherable], sir! I don’t have anything of worth but… I’d be proud to give you my cats.

William: *coughs*

Peasant: Oh, must be the cat smoke.

William: Oh, this air is filthy. I need a little rest.

Messenger: ♪ One man tried to poison your food ♪

Anne: ♪ Some with bullets [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ Mostly [indecipherable] ready to fight ♪

Charles: ♪ [indecipherable] horse was white! ♪

William: Let us move forward!

James: William! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Chorus: ♪ James was appalled by the sight that he saw ♪

James: ♪ I’ll have your head, boy, remember [indecipherable]! ♪

Chorus: ♪ Soon his generals started to fall ♪

James: ♪ Troops, make an example of him! ♪

Chorus: ♪ James’ troops then began to abandon ♪ ♪ Our glorious William now [indecipherable] ♪

James: Did you not all swear your loyalty?! You are all my subjects! *gaps* Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You must swear your loyalty to your father! It is God’s will! The Fifth Commandment! Consider the hell– *splutters* What the hell? Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ Blood from his nose ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] to God ♪ ♪ James was denied ♪ ♪ His royal throne ♪

James: No! No! What the hell?! *spluttering* The Fifth Commandment– shit! This is terribly inconvenient

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To James [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ His nose really bled ♪

James: WAIT, WHAT?!!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To France, King James ♪ ♪ Finally fleeeeeeeeeeee– ♪

James: STOP SINGING!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ –eeeeeeeedddddd ♪

James: What, is this really historically accurate?! You’re just gonna let me go, William?! HA! Coward! I will return, William, I promise you that! Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You will suffer the fait of an unfaithful daughter. This is not how my story was… suppose to be told… To France.

Chorus: ♪ William has won now that James has fled ♪

William: *prolonged violent coughing*

Chorus: ♪ London is happy! ♪ ♪ With bonfires lit ♪ ♪ Willy’s lungs can’t take the smoke ♪ ♪ And all the fog just made him choke ♪ ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commanded and now we’ve won ♪ ♪ Our new day begins with the rising of the sun! ♪ ♪ Of the sun! ♪

William: *groaning, gasping for breath*

[arse-crack-thistle]

gifts

rwrb and the five love languages | part two

in which june struggles to have a nice valentine’s date with nora

June never expected to care this much about a stupid holiday like Valentine’s Day, but here she is, practically renovating the apartment to give her girlfriend a perfect night. She strings LED lights around the entire living room ceiling and uses Command hooks to drape the sheer, white Ikea curtains she bought on sale months ago in preparation for this. The lights glow pink through the curtains, making the usually neutral-toned living room appear like Aphrodite’s palace. June’s moved the coffee table into her room and replaced it with a fluffy blanket and a picnic set-up to rival TikTok lesbians.  All she needs now is Nora, if only she weren’t stuck at school.

The texts say, Will be late! Data mining for the gods! [Monet X Change gif] I want to be home with you though. Will bring noodles! And chocolate! Scratch that, I ate the chocolate. Sorry.

June knows she shouldn’t be annoyed because Nora has no idea what she’s coming home to. She also knows who she got into a relationship with—a brilliant mind that’s constantly moving parsecs a minute and has a hard time communicating her feelings. June has to remind herself that Nora loves her even if she doesn’t always show it.

That’s what tonight is for. It’ll give them time to slow down and just be together. Break the routine. Talk or not talk. She doesn’t expect it to be mushy or obnoxious—June isn’t a super, flowery romantic herself—but she does want another sentimental moment to hold onto forever.

Like the night of the 2020 election over a year ago. After Alex and Henry slipped away and everyone else was celebrating in their own groups, Nora pulled June into a storage closet at the venue and kissed her point blank, leaving no questions in her mind that their dabbles the months before meant something more than spectacular.

Or like six months ago when Nora asked her if she wanted to move in with her. She didn’t do anything particularly special, but she slammed her laptop shut while June was throwing on one of her sweatshirts and asked her to stay—to take the second bedroom because Nora needs space sometimes—but to stay with her because she was her favorite person. June answered with a happy “yes,” and Nora got up and kissed her. They didn’t talk much more about it; June just packed up her room at the White House and let the world think they were very best friends.

June pours a glass of wine and waits on the couch, flipping through social media. A few hours ago, her brother posted a picture from the Valentine’s gala he and Henry threw for the London queer youth center. Alex, Henry, Bea, Catherine, and even Philip and Martha hold champagne flutes with cheeky smiles on their faces. The POTUS account has a sweet yet posed picture of her mother and Leo. She likes everything she sees, from the various celebrities she follows to the photos she’s tagged in by fans. The time on her phone reminds her Nora’s now over an hour late.

She texts her, Home soon?

Ten minutes later her phone dings. Need more time. Almost done!

You are aware it’s Valentine’s, yes? And that we had plans?

Yes!!!! But flexible plans, right? Not like we can’t eat noodles and make out later. Will leave soon though. Promise.

I got food covered. Just get home please.

June sighs. She thought she made it clear this morning that they deserved a night with no distractions. God, they need to talk; she’s afraid to, but nothing will get better if she doesn’t say anything and if they don’t try.

The charcuterie board spread she copied off of Pinterest has been sitting out for a while so she moves it from the floor to the fridge. “Soon” for Nora could mean an hour. Empty coffee mugs line the sink. An open pack of weed gummies sits on the counter, hardening. Binders of paperwork and schoolwork collect on the kitchen table. There’s so much Nora in here. June redecorated the living room and kitchen when she moved in, but Nora’s managed to touch everything.

She smiles. If this were Alex, she’d be pissed at the mess, but it’s Nora. The beautiful, erratic mess that is Nora. The girl who can have four different shows on at once and can still get shit done. The girl who always burns pancakes when she tries to cook breakfast for June. The girl who never fails to kiss her first.

June won’t lose her. So she sits down on the floor, runs her fingers over the fleece, and waits. And drinks more wine.

Sometime later, when a key turns in the lock, she downs the last sip in her glass and sets it down. Some old love songs play from her phone, the ones she and Nora love to make fun of. She hears her girlfriend curse when her key gets stuck, and then she bursts through the door and catches herself before she could slip on the hardwood.

“I know you said you got food covered, but I got noodles any—Whoa! You did all of this?” Nora walks into the living room with takeout bags in her hands and stares, mesmerized, at the ceiling. Her contacts must’ve been bothering her because she has on her back-up glasses.

“Hi. Happy Valentine’s Day,” June says and reaches for Nora’s hand to pull her down.

“I’m sorry, June. I had no idea. I thought we both hated this holiday, so tonight wasn’t that big of a deal. But this—this is beautiful,” Nora says, having a hard time meeting June’s eyes.

“Thanks.” June rubs Nora’s hand with her thumb. “And this isn’t really about the holiday. I just wanted to give something nice to you—to us—just us. With no distractions.”

The strings from “At Last” by Etta James play from the phone. The curtains billow from the air blowing out the vent. As much as she hates to ruin the moment, June has to start the conversation.

But Nora takes a deep breath and talks first. “I know I’m a bit all over the place but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just have a lot going on.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t care about us as much as I do. It feels like an afterthought to you,” June says.

“That’s not true, June! Come on! You know me.” She grabs June’s other hand and squeezes.

She squeezes back. “You don’t act with feelings in mind, but I know you have them. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to share them with me more. I need a reminder that you care every once in a while.”

Nora’s quiet. She uses her arm to wipe her eyes, knocking her glasses off.  “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

June’s chest collapses. She wraps Nora up in her arms. “I’m sorry, Nor. I don’t mean you’re not enough for me. I love you so much. I—”

“No, I understand. I just—I need help with that. I need you to tell me when you need more—maybe not after the fact like now but—”

June laughs and pulls away. “You’re right. I have a stewing problem. I just assume you’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah, don’t assume that.” Nora laughs too—the big kind that shows all of her teeth. “Reign me in when I’ve been off for too long. And know it’s not on purpose. I’m seriously spiraling in my own head the majority of the time.”

“Ha! And a hot head it is too.”

They both pause and look into each other’s eyes. And bust out into laughing fits. June makes a fart sound with her mouth, and Nora tackles her. They rumble around on the blanket for about forty seconds before June’s wine glass tips over and surprisingly bounces instead of shattering.

The girls take that as an opportunity to stop and pour some more glasses of wine. Nora preps the takeout while June brings the charcuterie board back to the indoor picnic. Nora changes the music to some weird techno shit, but June snatches the phone. They compromise with One Direction, which makes no sense since 1. June only knows their last album and 2. Nora definitely remembers the story of June turning down the advances of one Niall Horan when she did the daytime talk show circuit after her book deal was announced.

Either way, they stuff their faces and end up cuddled on the floor.

Nora interrupts the moment. “Before we get to sexy time—"

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just wanted to give you something. I would’ve saved it for your birthday, but I can get you something else.” She pops up from the floor and jogs to her bedroom. When she reemerges, she’s carrying a bunched-up blanket. “I didn’t have time to properly wrap it because—you know, you weren’t going to get it yet—although, it probably wouldn’t’ve been wrapped later either—but anyways, happy Valentine’s Day.”

She crouches down and hands over the present. She smiles and bops up and down in anticipation. June unwraps the blanket and sees a book.

It’s one of those photobooks you can get at Walgreens, and on the cover, it reads, “Catalina June Claremont-Diaz and Nora Elizabeth Holleran are NOT good friends…” June flips it over. “They’re fucking GIRLFRIENDS!” Inside is page after page of pictures as early as the day they first met and as recent as New Year’s Eve a month ago. A lot of candid pics they take of each other—Nora’s favorites. A lot of sleepy, cuddle pics—June’s favorites. It’s so perfect.

“Nora—this is—wow.” She feels the tears coming. No one has given her anything like this before.

“I’ll be better—”

“So will I.”

“No matter where my head’s at, I’m always thinking of you—just 50 million other things as well,” Nora says and cups her chin.

June leans in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nora kisses her, and everything wound up in June relaxes. Her body is so warm. “Best Song Ever” starts playing.

Cue sexy time.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part three, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

so this could be for quality time or gifts, but i decided to go with gifts since i had no other ideas for it! it’s definitely not my love language (quality time for the win!) but i had to write something lol. so i made it sapphic bc everything gay is better! <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[artificialqueens]

Girls in Love, Chapter 1 (Viopearlax) - Grey Darling

A/N: Hello friends! It's been a while lol. Anyway, here's the first chapter of my new Viopearlax fic, in which useless lesbian Pearl must navigate the perilous landscape of polyamorous romance while trying desperately not to lose it altogether. This is mostly just setting the scene - things are gonna get shippy in the next chapter. Special thanks to @dollalpaca for beta-ing this literal centuries ago. Hope you all enjoy!

“I’m getting married.”

Pearl almost choked on her water. “I’m sorry. You’re what?”

When Scarlet had asked Pearl out to dinner that night, Pearl had assumed it was just for a catch up. She hadn’t seen her little sister for ages, so of course she’d jumped at the opportunity when Scarlet had messaged her that morning. All she’d expected was banter, a good laugh at all the stupid shit they used to do when they were kids; the last thing Pearl anticipated was for her baby sister to tell her she was getting married, while Pearl herself was struggling to get someone to go out with her on more than one date. Wasn’t the older sister supposed to find their soulmate first?

But Scarlet was beaming. “I’m getting married!”

“Since when? Jesus, Scarlet, I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”

“You so do!” Scarlet retorted, pouting. “You literally met her last year.”

“I did? Who the hell was it?” At this point, Pearl had no idea whether to be angry or just confused. “I mean, seriously, Scarlet, you’re what, twenty? Twenty one? You’ve got shitloads of time before you need to make any big decisions like that. This isn’t the kind of thing you can just decide to do on a whim.”

Scarlet stared down at her half-empty plate, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. When she spoke, she was quiet. “I thought you’d be happy for me…”

“I am- I mean- I don’t know.” Pearl slumped back in her chair. “I just… I think you’re a little young, that’s all. Give it a bit longer with this guy, maybe a year or two. If you’re still into him by then, then by all means, tie the knot. But-”

“She isn’t a guy, Pearl. She’s a she.” Clearly upset, she stabbed into a piece of pasta with force. “I thought you knew I liked girls?”

“I do.”

“So why’d you assume she was a guy?”

“I don’t know! I’m not exactly in the greatest headspace right now, Scarlet. Fine, you’re engaged to a girl you barely know-”

“I do know her! And I’m in love with her!”

By now, it felt as though the entire restaurant was staring at them. Pearl shot Scarlet a narrow eyed look. “Can you keep it down?”

“No! I thought you’d be happy for me, but I guess that’s just too fucking much for you. I was gonna ask you to be one of my bridesmaids, but if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it I’ll ask someone else!”

Pearl sighed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut. By the time she opened them again, Scarlet was pushing her chair out from the table, the harsh scraping of wood against wood just making everything feel worse. “Wait, Scarlet-”

“I’m done. Good fucking night.”

Pearl just watched as her little sister stormed out of the restaurant, clearly not intending to pay for their meal judging by the way she breezed past the counter without so much as a glance. Well, this wasn’t how she wanted this meal to end.

Pearl knew she was right. She knew that Scarlet was way too young to be getting married, and she highly doubted Scarlet had known this girl long enough to make a serious commitment. If Pearl couldn’t even guess who this fiance was, it was a bad sign—if something important happened to Scarlet, Pearl was always the first to know about it. Surely if she’d met the girl of her dreams, Pearl would’ve received at least five essay length texts about her by now. But she hadn’t, and that made Pearl incredibly suspicious.

At the same time, she absolutely hated the idea of her little sister being mad at her. From the moment Scarlet was born, she and Pearl were as thick as thieves, and any argument they ever had was always resolved ten minutes later, both of them sobbing and apologising profusely to each other. But somehow, Pearl knew she’d overstepped the line this time, and that it would take a lot longer than ten minutes to win Scarlet’s forgiveness. And frankly, that made her feel sick.

Sighing, Pearl hailed the waiter, deciding that a stiff drink was in order.

***

“She still hasn’t texted you back?”

“Nope.”

“Shit. You must have really pissed her off.”

Pearl groaned, turning around to softly bang her head against the metal surface of Katya’s all American Russian food truck. It was a place Pearl would often go to for wise counsel and sage advice, although often the hardest part was figuring out where Katya had parked the damn thing. Katya herself, who’d been one of Pearl’s best friends since she moved to the city, reached through the window of her truck to pat Pearl on the head.

“There, there.”

Pearl glanced up at her with a glare, not in the mood for half-assed comfort. Katya raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Sorry! What do you want me to say?”

Letting out yet another groan, Pearl turned back around to lean with her back against the truck. “I don’t know. Can you tell me I’m not a massive bitch?”

“Ok. You’re not a massive bitch.”

Somehow, it didn’t sound as comforting as Pearl thought it would. But then again, she’d imagined it coming out of Scarlet’s mouth, not Katya’s. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re just a bit of a sour puss today, aren’t you?” Katya started rearranging the various condiments she had adorning the window of the truck, not having much else to do since the lunch rush had come and gone. “Or are you just having an existential crisis?”

“Probably the last one. I just feel conflicted, Kat.”

“Right.”

“I want to feel happy for her, but I’m also worried about her. Does that make sense?”

“Yep.”

“Good. So I’m not going crazy.”

Katya thought for a moment before responding. “I don’t think anyone would think you’re going crazy. You’re worried about your sister getting married when she’s like, still at college. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“But you should’ve seen her last night. She looked like I murdered her puppy or something.”

“I mean, by the sounds of it you did stomp all over her romantic dreams.”

“Oh, fuck off, I did not.”

Katya chuckled, bringing out that bright, toothy grin of hers. It was usually infectious, but not today. Pearl was inoculated with guilt. “Well, would it make you feel better if you met the person she’s getting hitched to?”

“I mean, I’m trying to convince her to meet up with me again, and I’ve told her she can bring her girlfriend - uh, fiance. But she isn’t replying. I’m literally blowing up her phone and getting fuck all in return.”

“Hmm. It’s a tricky one. Maybe she just needs time to cool off?”

“Maybe. I just don’t want to wait - I want to be friends with her again.”

Katya pursed her lips before reaching her hand out. “Gimme your phone, I wanna see what you said.”

“Katya, I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Come on! I wanna see if you’re being apologetic enough.” When it was clear Pearl wasn’t going to relent, Katya pushed harder. “Trix says I’m really great at being a warm and friendly person, y’know. Maybe I could write you a really good apology.”

Pearl shook her head. “That’s not happening.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I’ve fucked up enough as it is. I’m not going to be that disingenuous to let someone else apologise for me. If Scarlet finds out about that, it’ll just make things worse.”

“You’ve got a point. Well, I guess you’re just doomed to wait it out.”

“Fuck…”

Just as the curse left her mouth, Pearl’s phone pinged. Katya’s eyes widened as Pearl scrambled to grab her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. It had to be a reply from Scarlet, it couldn’t be anything else. Somehow, she must have subconsciously known how much Pearl was beating herself up over their disastrous dinner the night before and felt the need to text her and reconcile. That was how the universe worked, right?

Pearl grabbed her phone, Katya leaning out of the window so she could see the screen. Almost nervous, Pearl tapped on the home button, lighting up the screen and revealing the text she was so desperate to see.

SHEA: Can you fill in for my shift tonight? Not feeling too hot. Thanks!!

*** Being the good friend that she was, Pearl did fill in for Shea’s shift that night. No, spending an extra seven hours at the dodgy bar she worked at wasn’t exactly what Pearl wanted to be doing, but at the very least it would take her mind off of Scarlet.

Or at least, she thought it would.

No matter how many cluttered trays of drinks she was made to serve, she kept on replaying her and Scarlet’s argument in her head again and again, the sense of guilt almost too much for her. Every single female customer she served had her wondering - is that the girl my sister’s getting married to? She knew it was a ridiculous thought. Scarlet would rather die than spend a second with the lowlifes that frequented the bar, but that didn’t stop Pearl from worrying about it.

Maybe she should’ve just been a good sister and supported Scarlet’s idea to get married. It wouldn’t have been that hard, right? She didn’t have to go all responsible, killjoy big sister on her and crush her romantic dreams. Scarlet was old enough to make her own mistakes, right? And who even knew whether or not this marriage would be a mistake? Maybe Pearl was just being paranoid?

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued her the entire night. She’d arrived at work at 8pm, all decked out in her skanky waitress uniform, hoping that work would take her mind off of her current crisis. But there she was, three hours later, hiding out in the break room because she just couldn’t calm down about it. Did that make her a bad worker? Yes - her break wasn’t for another hour. But she’d be no good to anyone if she spilled a tray of drinks all over a customer because she was too distracted by the image of Scarlet crying her eyes out to look where she was going.

Scrolling through all the text messages she’d sent to Scarlet, Pearl began to second guess what she thought had been perfectly acceptable apologies.

PEARL: I’m sorry about last night. Can we meet up and talk about it?

PEARL: I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just worried. Sorry again - let me know if you’re free to meet up?

PEARL: I’m sorry, Scarlet. Please text back.

PEARL: I could shout dinner? We could get Indian takeout and talk this over. Like adults.

PEARL: You could bring your girlfriend? I want to meet her.

PEARL: Sorry. I was a bitch last night. Please text me back?

And still no reply. Maybe Pearl would be able to get by on the theory that Scarlet had lost her phone, or was out of credit or something. But she didn’t believe any of that for a second - she knew perfectly well Scarlet was pissed at her and not answering her texts for that very reason. It was silly to try and assume otherwise.

“Pearl? Pearl, where the- Oh my god, could you please go back upstairs?” Pearl looked up as one of the other waitresses poked her head into the break room, her full lips shaped into a defined frown. “We’re dying out there, there’s so many people.”

“Sorry, Aja, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, and I’m probably gonna get my assed handed to me by dozens of impatient customers. Get your ass up here already!” With that, Aja was gone, her summons impossible to ignore.

Sighing, Pearl quickly checked her makeup in the mirror, straightened her dress, and stepped back out into the bar.

***

It should be illegal to make people work past two am. Pearl trudged into her tiny, cupboard sized apartment, head pounding from an unpleasant mix of not enough water and not enough sleep. At the very least, her daydreams (nightdreams?) about her bed and a nice, cool glass of water had distracted her from the Scarlet issue. So that was a small blessing.

Pearl flicked the light on as she arrived, wincing as the brightness made her headache even worse. She didn’t hate her apartment - it was tiny and under heated, sure, but there was space for a bed, a little kitchenette, a small bathroom off to the side, and her favourite bean bag chair. Plus, it had an amazing view of the city, something Pearl wasn’t planning on complaining about. Her artistic sensibilities had told her that if she didn’t get that view, she’d never forgive herself. She had to constantly remind herself about how great the view was when she was freezing her ass off in winter and would kill for a well heated apartment.

Making a beeline for the kitchenette, Pearl turned on the tap and poured herself a glass of water. It felt like magic as the water passed through her lips; the sticky, dry feeling in her throat vanishing in an instant. It even made her head feel a little better, although the brightness of the light cancelled out any progress on remedying it completely. You win some, you lose some, Pearl supposed.

After a second glass of water, Pearl didn’t even bother getting out of her uniform before collapsing into bed, dragging the duvet covers up to her chin and snuggling down into comfort. She was more than ready to drift off when she realised that she still needed to plug her phone in to charge. So, without making any effort to get out of bed, Pearl reached for her bag and pulled it towards her, digging her phone out from amongst the other items that cluttered it - wallet, pack of tissues, a worrying amount of receipts from Katya’s food truck. It was as she stuck the charger into her phone that the screen lit up, revealing a notification that made Pearl’s heart skip a beat.

It was a text from Scarlet.

Thoroughly jolted awake, Pearl scrambled to sit up and open the text, her thumbs impatiently tapping the screen as she waited for it to open. She bit her lip once it did, her wide eyes reading the text with more concentration than she’d ever read anything before.

SCARLET: Starbucks at 12. I’m bringing Yvie.

[zwritestuff]

Some Things Are Bound To Be (Chapter Seven) - Kyara

A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, I've been going crazy with school, but I'm almost free, and true to my fashion, I wrote this instead of sleeping 😌 It's fine, I'm fine. Hopefully y'all like the chapter, thanks to Emerald ( @fromthenorthernskies​ ) for beta-ing! We're nearing the end, but these dumbasses still can't figure their shit out.

Read on AO3.

***

Priyanka doesn’t slap her when she tells her, though she wants to. Badly.

“You stupid bitch,” she exclaims, invading her personal space as she leans foward, mouth agape. Kyne doesn’t know if she should laugh or push her away, so she does the next logical thing and shoves Priyanka off, reaching for the bowl of chips. “You like her, but you’re gonna break up with her? Kyne, what the fuck.”

Kyne cringes only a little, partially because she’s sure even the people from the other building are able to hear Priyanka’s annoyed yell, and she knew this would be her reaction the moment the words left her mouth. The moment she had gotten that message from Kiara, she knew their scheme was bound to end—what else could she possibly want to talk about? Not the weather, obviously and not-- not Kyne’s stupid fantasy of a love confession, definitely not that.

So, only one option was left, and the clearest one at that. Kyne couldn’t bear the anticipation pooling at the pit of her stomach, so she did the next logical thing and invited Priyanka over, otherwise she would’ve ended up without nails by Monday.

She sighs a little, not letting the defeat show in her face.

“Not everything has a happy ending, Pri. And, y’know, we could still be friends, I guess.” Kyne shrugs, taking a mouthful of chips, and Priyanka knits her brows in a frown, silent for a moment too long. Kyne tenses.

Oh no. Priyanka, silent? Something is coming. Most likely, something Kyne won’t like to hear.

“No,” Priyanka finally says, quizzically. Kyne cocks a brow, setting the chips bowl back on the coffee table. 

“No?” She repeats.

Priyanka gives her a look; not a fiery one, like she always has when she’s about to give her a heartfelt speech when she feels like she might need one. No. It’s hard to put a finger on the emotion she’s looking at her with, but it’s neither pity nor concern—it might just be easier to call it a Priyanka-esque look. 

“No, this isn’t like you at all,” she says, folding her arms, an accusatory tone dripping from her tongue. Ah, shit. Not another pep-tak. “Fuck, if you were to tell me years ago that Kyne, the one bitch that stuck up to fucking Professor Brooke Lynn Hytes back in college, because she knew she had graded her papers wrong, would even think of giving up on a girl she likes, just because she might get in trouble with her parents I woud tell you to fuck right off, because that’s not my friend. Not at all.”

Kyne groans, rolls her eyes and grabs the nearest pillow to smash her head against. It annoys her that Priyanka is right, again. She hasn’t let her live down the fact she had to tell her she liked Kiara for her to realize, to begin with. And she’s convinced she’s never going to hear the end of it when--

--when there’s a pat on her head, and a heavy sigh.

She looks up and sees Priyanka, gazing at her with a more understanding gaze. She doesn’t look like she wants to strangle her—not for now, at least.

“You should tell her, y’know,” she says, with a tone that conveys she knows she’s right. Kyne knows she is, and she hates it. Priyanka might be stupid sometimes, but she’s stupidly cunning—for important things, anyway. And this, Kyne thinks, she’s deemed important.

So she just avoids her gaze, fidgeting with her hands. “But what if it’s not mutual? What do I do then? She’ll think I only accepted to be her fake girlfriend to use her.” She chews the inside of her cheek. It had been more than a recurring thought ever since she realized her feelings for Kiara, and more than once it had slipped through her mind. The idea that Kiara would just straight up stop talking to her if she thought she’d been used this whole time. That, or she would be fired on the spot.

(Bo’s words still run through her mind every so often, and it’s becoming rarer and far in between the times when she lets Kiara touch her in any way. Because if she does, Kyne’s not sure if she would be able to hold back.)

Priyanka groans, pulling and pinching the skin under her eyes. “God, I know you’re-- that we are lesbians, but god damn, not even I am this useless, and I’ve been pining for Kiara’s secretary for months now!”

“You’ve been pining for Lena?” Kyne echoes, but Priyanka dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t change the topic, that’s my job, and I don’t wanna change it now. What I mean, is that Kiara definitely likes you, but you’re literally the last to know. Again.”

Kyne blinks, what Priyanka said not fully sinking in just yet. Then, she bushes furiously, much like the first time, and shoves Priyanka.

“No she doesn’t.”

“Oh my God, I will actually murder you one of these days.” Priyanka pinches the bridge of her nose, and then looks at her with a tired expression. “Yes, she fucking does. You literally spend all your time with her, and you haven’t picked up on the way she looks at you? I swear it’s the most stupid, lovey-dovey look I’ve ever seen, I’m disgusted just thinking about it,” she says, making faces and pulling her tongue out, and it really doesn’t help the blush that takes power in Kyne’s cheeks.

Dear Jesus, not another thing Priyanka had been able to pick up on her relationship with Kiara before her. She should get her a date with Lena, maybe that way she’ll stay out of her business.

But right now, there’s really no escaping Priyanka, since this is her own apartment, and she can’t kick her out at 1 a.m., so she sits through the scolding with an annoyed glare that Priyanka can’t care less about.

“Pri, stop, I get it; I’m dumb, blind, whatever. I know,” Kyne finally says, stopping Priyanka’s pointless rant about Kyne being the biggest useless lesbian she knows. She sighs heavily, knowing Priyanka won’t like what she’s about to hear. “And as much as I’d like to believe you, I don’t wanna risk my job, just because you’re delusional again.”

Priyanka yelps, slightly offended, and squints at her. “You know she can’t fire you just because, right?” She asks slowly, and Kyne scoffs. Of course she knows. But if she fired girls she slept with and no one batted an eye, then what are the odds she’ll be any different?

She tells Priyanka what Bo told her in big details, and she looks at her in disbelief.

“Fuck all the way off, that’s not true.”

Kyne cocks a brow, “How do you know?”

“Because Bo hates Kiara’s guts since her father fired one of her friends, but, like, they were on their right to fire her. She was purposely sabotaging projects, I think it was because her sister had married some dude owner of a rival company; the details are kinda blurry.” Priyanka folds her arms, an accusatory glance twinkles in her eyes, though it’s not directed at her, not really. “Didn’t you know? It’s all she talks about since you became closer with Kiara.”

Kyne blinks repeatedly, not really believing what she’s just heard. Priyanka’s stare is burning a hole through her, expecting an answer, but Kyne swears there’s white noise engulfing her, numbing her; the only thing she feels are her nails digging in her palms.

Bo lied to her? How could she? Even if she didn’t like Kiara, she had no right to lie to her; especially knowing full well she’d believe her. They were friends, after all.

Well, maybe tomorrow they won’t be.

“Why— why would she lie to me? I don’t get it.”

She knows Bo is as fiercely protective as she’s petty, holding grudges until she forgets why she was mad in the first place. But this? This is a low blow.

Priyanka shrugs, not really sure either. “I don’t know, girl, but she must have a good explanation. This doesn’t sound like her at all,” she offers, and Kyne desperately hopes she’s right.

She would never be able to forgive Bo for making her replace all the eagerness and comfort she felt around Kiara with panic and heightened fear of losing her job, every time their hands brushed and Kiara’s tentative fingers tried to reach for her.

Well, maybe she would, but it would take many apologies and a drink or three. Or maybe a whole bottle.

***

Monday morning comes around, and Kyne tries to not break the foam cup with Kiara's coffee with her tight grip, anxiety pooling in her stomach at the sole thought of what she's about to do.

Priyanka spent the entire night trying to convince her to just tell Kiara about her feelings, to woman up and rip the bandaid at once without much thinking. Kyne had finally relented only when they were about to fall fast asleep, and the alcohol was making the room spin ever so slightly, as she decided she didn't have anything to lose by telling Kiara of her feelings.

If she ended up losing her job, Priyanka had said she could hook her up with one of her cousins, a well-respected lawyer, so they could sue the Schatzis for all they had. Of course she wished they didn't have to go to that extreme, and even dared to dream of a movie-like moment.

Of course, dreams are a thing completely different in reality, she reminds herself of that when she lets herself in Kiara's office, briefly greeting Lena and sliding past her, who doesn't even give her much of a glance.

(At some point Lena stopped caring about her, even developed a sixth sense to know whenever she was around to not waste her time in telling her to wait a second so she could tell Kiara she was coming.)

Kiara is already scribbling something on a notepad, holding her phone to her ear with her other hand, and Kyne knows that by the scowl plastered on her face she should wait a second before saying anything.

But then she glances up, her expression easing up in a second as a smile blooms on her face, signaling her to sit down, doing silly faces when she points at the phone, and she wants to laugh stupidly loud because anything Kiara does she finds endearing, but they'll have time for that later.

“They were out of chocolate chips, so I brought you a blueberry muffin,” Kyne says once she hangs up, omitting the part of her knowing blueberry is her second favorite flavor, because she mentioned months ago and she never forgot. She can say that later, so she just passes her the paper bag with the muffin and her cup of coffee. 

Kiara smiles at her, saying a polite thank you as she gives the muffin a bite, leaning back on her chair, looking already tired of work when it's barely starting.

There's silence for a moment too long, where they just eat and sip, but nothing lasts forever, so Kiara is the one to break it.

“I think you'll remember I wanted to talk about something,” she begins, and Kyne nods, prompting her to go on. She's too confident in what she's about to say, thinks they're on the same page. 

Nothing prepares her for when Kiara leans forward, the smile all but gone and replaced with a neutral expression, and Kyne just knows something is bad. That this won't end like she wants.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she continues, fidgeting with her rings, avoiding her gaze. When she locks eyes with her, there isn't any hint of the warmth and kindness is used to see in them. They're hollow, void of any emotion. Her throat closes up in anticipation. “And I think you're right, we should end this pretend relationship before it goes too far.”

Kyne blinks, once then twice, until she's awkwardly staring at Kiara, digging her nails in her palms.

Fuck, she thinks. And for a long second her mind is just a loop of the word fuck. This isn't even Kiara's doing, it's hers, her own words and actions came back to bite her in the ass, and there's no way she can blame Kiara for wanting to call it quits after she snapped at her.

Her plans are gone to waste, there's no way she can bring up the way she feels about her after this. It just wouldn't be right. So she does the next thing she knows best; she deflects.

“Well, I mean, do you think it's been enough time for people to not get suspicious?” She manages to stutter out, trying for the love of her dignity to not let the quiver in her voice give away the tears that are to come at some point.

Her nails dig in her palms further, probably drawing blood, when Kiara just shrugs. Like she doesn't care. And it stings like a bitch.

“Does it matter? For all I know, we've done more than enough. I think it's a good time to stop before-- it's just the time.” Kiara clears her throat, and Kyne wants to ask before what, before she falls even more in love with her, if that's even possible? 

So she inhales sharply, taking a long sip from her coffee, finishing it all in one motion, and tries to not let it show in her expression how much it actually affects her.

“For all I know, I really liked being your fake-girlfriend,” she confesses, and it's not really a lie, but it isn't the entire truth. Kyne did like every second of it, even if at the beginning her mind was clouded with anxiety and fears, she liked having lunch with her and spending time together outside work hours, liked when she laughed so hard she ran out of air, and her nose scrunched up and she made a weird sound that she said she was ashamed of. She liked when she'd absent-mindlessly run her hands through her hair when they were watching a movie together, and it would send shivers down her spine. 

(And Kiara, she just likes all about Kiara. She likes Kiara.)

It’s just that, for a fleeting moment, she hoped they could be real, that even if Priyanka was wrong and Kiara didn’t like her back, she could grow to like her.

Maybe she could’ve loved her if she had been given the chance. Maybe she could’ve loved her either way, if she had been given more time. Maybe she could’ve loved her.

(She could’ve.)

“You can keep my cupcake, I'm not hungry,” Kyne says, giving her a smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, one that probably looks forced and not at all real, but she can’t be bothered right now. Not when she feels her heart ache and a lump in her throat prevents her from speaking. 

Kiara just blinks, about to say something else when Kyne leaves without saying anything; she knows the second she opens her mouth, a choked sob would come out.

In exchange, Kiara doesn’t say anything to her for the rest of the day, and the day becomes the week, and it stings deeply in Kyne’s chest. She was so close to saying it, to stop letting the words linger in the air and manifest them. 

But it’s over now. So suddenly and abruptly, and it's all her fault.

Kyne supposses it’s her own fault for not being honest sooner, for letting the lies numb her good judgement. She knew Kiara, it was impossible that she was capable of any of the things Bo said she did were true, and yet—

She shakes her head, trying to concentrate on her job.

Kiara not talking to her isn't the end of the world she thinks it is, even if it feels like it. She'll eventually get over it, find someone new and forget she ever felt something for her. 

But God, it's easier said than done, when she sees her every day around the company, and for once she knows where the rumours of her being cold hearted come from; she doesn't see her crack a smile once. Not even the tiniest smirk, and if Kyne didn't know better she'd say the two women she's always hanging out with look at her when she passes by with an annoyed glance. 

Kyne wants the earth to open and swallow her whole. 

By the second week of silence, she catches Kiara's glance on her way to a meeting by pure chance; she's looking at Bo, who's telling her about this guy from Tinder she's been seeing, just when Kiara is coming out from another office. Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment, and it digs a deeper hole in her chest when she finds they're still void of any emotion.

Fuck, she misses her so much. Kyne swears she could cry right there and then if she didn't have to speak at a stupid budget meeting for a new project.

“So is it true?” Bo says enigmatically, and Kyne cocks a brow.

“What?”

“That you and Miss Bitch Heiress broke up.” She stops in her tracks, shit, news fly fast, don't they? Bo gives her a pitiful smile and a pat on the shoulder, but Kyne swats her hand away.

“Don't act like you didn't want this to happen,” she snarls, resuming her walk. She hasn't brought up that she knows she lied to her, because that implies reminding herself how much she royally fucked up, so she's been avoiding it. Kyne sure has a talent for avoiding her problems until they blow up in her face.

“Well, I sure as hell didn't want you getting hurt because of her,” Bo tries to defend herself, but Kyne just rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” she merely replies, not looking at her, hurrying her steps, feeling a lump growing in her throat by the second. 

It bottles up, like it always does, even though she promised Priyanka she'd try to let it out. The thing is, as much as Kyne knows she can trust Priyanka, it's not like she isn't constantly worried of being a burden with her feelings ever since Kiara called their pretend relationship quits, so she tries to limit the amount of things she tells Priyanka. 

She doesn't tell her she barely sleeps, that she can't see cupcakes without feeling nauseous, that she picks up her pace when she walks by the restaurant she took Kiara to for the first time - that she's even contemplated burning the damn dress she bought her. That it pains her to look at it every time she opens her closet and sees it hanging there, among her other clothes, because it sticks as a sore thumb out and it reminds her of how happy she was that night with her. 

It all bottles up, and admittedly, she should've known better than to drink her feelings away.

It's Friday night, and they're at a new bar that opened around Scarlett's place. She's actually put effort in her appearance, curling her hair and picking one of her prettiest dresses, done her best eyeshadow in ages—and yet, no amount of tequila shots can fill up the void she feels in her chest.

She ends up crying and admitting how she really feels when she accompanies Priyanka outside for a quick smoke that turns into a full therapy session. Or well, something akin to it.

“I miss her,” Kyne cries out, Priyanka wipes the tears away before the rimmel ruins her whole face.

“I know,” she replies simply.

“Shit, should I call her now and tell her everything?” Priyanka groans, visibly cringing.

“Baby, gimme your phone, you’re not calling anyone at three a.m. unless it’s an Uber,” she says, reaching to grab Kyne’s phone, and for a drunk person she’s far too quick to move her hand away.

“But--”

“Listen, bitch, you know I love talking and giving pep talks,” Priyanka cuts her off, “But, I am sure you would forget it by the morning, so we’re not having this conversation right now.”

Kyne rolls her eyes, folding her arms; why Priyanka has to be right even when both are one shot away from being drunk out of their minds? It’s not fair.

“So, now that’s sorted out,” she says, stomping on her cigarette, “We’re going home bitch, I can’t have you following me around the bar looking like a raccoon,” Priyanka speaks matter-of-factly, and Kyne gasps offended, swatting her arm. But she ends up giving in when she unlocks her phone and sees what her tears have done to her rimmel.

They go back inside to find the others to tell them that they’re leaving, and Kyne doesn’t have time to think of an excuse to give Scarlett as to why her eyes look puffy when Priyanka tells them what happened. Scarlett immediately coos and wraps her in a clumsy hug, saying how sorry she is, that she looked so happy with Kiara, she never would’ve imagined it would end so soon.

“Bobo, shut the fuck up before I cry again,” she warns, half-jokingly, half-serious. Scarlett lets her go, but a decided look settles on their face.

“Fuck no bitch, you need us now; we’re all goin’ back to my place, and we’re not lettin’ you go to sleep until you crack a smile-- and stop lookin’ like a damn raccoon.”

“I don’t look like a raccoon!” Kyne yelps, offended.

“Yes, you do,” Bo pipes up, and Kyne grumbles while her friends laugh at her expense.

So, they make their way back to Scarlett’s apartment, arms linked as they talk about anything that comes up to their minds to distract Kyne. And it works, she laughs until her stomach hurts, and tears pool at the corner of her eyes, except they’re not sad tears this time, and she feels so grateful for her friends as she kicks off her shoes, and Scarlett drags Priyanka to help them re-arrange things in her room to fit everyone.

She’s left alone with Bo, who’s been rather silent towards her these past days. Kyne knows why, but she isn’t sure right now it’s the time to bring it up.

Of course, nothing ever goes like she wants it to, so Bo clears her throat before speaking.

“Kyne, listen, I have something to tell you--”

“I know,” Kyne cuts her off, not wanting to deal with this right now. “Priyanka, she told me you hate Kiara. She told me why, she told me everything.” She meets Bo’s gaze, and it hurts her only a little when she sees the regret in her expression. Her petty side is stronger when she’s drunk.

Bo inhales sharply before speaking, “Yeah, I know. Priyanka scolded me about it when you refused to go out for lunch with us for the third time in a row,” she admits, toying with the hem of her shirt. “Listen, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I was trying to look out for you so you wouldn’t get hurt, but--”

“But it happened either way,” Kyne finishes, sinking further into Scarlett’s couch. Bo sighs, sitting next to her.

“And I’m sorry about it, you really did look happy,” she muses quietly, giving her a pat on the shoulder. Kyne can’t be bothered to swat her away again. “I guess I never really forgot her for breaking my friend Abril’s heart.”

Kyne frowns, curious; Kiara never spoke of any Abril. “Is that your friend that sabotaged projects and shit?” She wonders, turning to look at her. Bo sighs heavily.

“Yup, the one and only. She was Kiara’s friend from college, and she was the one that got her the job. I think they were dating at that point, I don’t remember well,” Bo recalls, trying to make sense of the blurry memories. In the end, she dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “Whatever. Now that I’m being honest, I wasn’t even sure the rumors about her sleeping around were true, I just believed them out of spite.”

She blinks repeatedly, not really believing what she’s hearing.

“So you feel bad for the girl that used Kiara and betrayed her trust, instead of feeling bad for the girl that got her reputation ruined before she actually started working at the company?” Kyne says slowly, and Bo cringes at herself.

“When you put it like that it makes me sound like an asshole,” she complains, and Kyne almost snaps her optic nerve with the way she rolled her eyes.

She’s over this discussion already, and she’s not really sure what did she gain out of it; closure, maybe? Whatever it is, she decides she’ll think this new information through when she’s more sober—and her face doesn’t itch with the ruined foundation. So she just stands up and asks Bo if she’s going to take her make-up off, and Bo follows her to the bathroom without saying anything.

Later on, when Priyanka and Scarlett are done scattering blankets and pillows on the ground, she’s able to sleep peacefully for what feels like the first time in years. Maybe she should keep this in mind for the next time a rich girl breaks her heart; there isn’t a better way to sleep than using Scarlett as a pillow, while Priyanka is sprawled over her and, ironically enough, butting heads with Bo.

***

Another Monday comes around, and Priyanka has decided to put the non-sense to an end. She solemnly walks up to Rita Baga’s office, saying to Tynomi that she has important business stuff to discuss with her. Yes, like that. 

Tynomi side-eyes her, but ends up letting her in, anyway. It’s still early and she knows for a fact Rita doesn’t have anything important until ten a.m., so she sends Priyanka in.

Rita looks as imponent as she always does, and the way she quirks her eyebrow at Priyanka absolutely does not intimidate her.

Fine, maybe a little.

“How can I help you, miss…?” She squints, and only then Priyanka remembers she’s never properly talked with her. 

“My name’s Priyanka, and you can help me by listening to me and then talking some sense into your friend,” she says, and Rita cocks her head, furrowing her brow. Okay, maybe she should be more specific. “I’m Kyne’s best friend, and if my instinct is right, Kiara is as sad for their break up as her. Which is why I need your help; you see, my idiot is convinced your idiot hates her, but I know better than that, so if you’d help me to push them to talk things out, I will be eternally grateful.” 

Should she be calling Kiara an idiot in front of her friend and fellow CEO? Probably not, but anyway, what’s done is done.

Rita goes from confused to surprised, to confused again. She clears her throat before speaking, “I’m sorry, I thought Kyne was the one that wanted to end things…?”

“Oh, it’s a bit of a complicated situation, but I assure you, she absolutely regrets snapping at Kiara.”

They stare at each other for a long second, before Rita finally reaches for her phone and calls up her secretary.

“Tynomi, would you mind coming in for a minute? We have a bit of a problem.”

[stachmousworld]

True Love (Lesbian Story) Ending 2; part.1

Maria Borges and Neelam Gill by Jonas Bresnan for L’oreal Paris (picture and caption found on @/sand-snake-kate)

Pairing: Mara x Carole

The main character’s POV is unreliable

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

This ending will be in two parts. The last one IS just smut.

Previously: Mara and Carole had their argument in the hotel room. Carole assumed Mara and Ayela are together. Mara leaves the room...

The door closed behind Mara. Carole’s body sagged as the tension left her. What a…

“No, actually I’m not done,” Mara declared, reentering the room.

Carole almost jumped in surprise. She needed more time to put back her walls up. She knew she looked wrecked. Not the kind of look she wanted to affront, again, Mara.

“What are you doing here? I told you I don’t want to-”

“No. This time you are going to listen to me,” she announced firmly. She took a few steps further in the room. “I love you. I never stopped and I think you do, too. So, I won’t leave until you tell me why you want me gone.”

Carole could have laughed. When she had wanted Mara to stay, she had run away and now she wanted her gone and she stayed. Mara’s face fell. Oh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Well…maybe she’d leave, Carole thought, a little ashamed. She squashed her feelings and relinquished on her anger.

“I’m…I don’t know how to apologize for that. I thought you stayed with me because I was a rebound. You never took her ring off and the first few months, you kept talking about her. You never told me you loved me. I told you every day. And at first, I was ok with you not telling me or feeling the same. At least you stayed with me. I was so pathetic,” she spat. “I should have confronted you, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to know the answer to my questions. So yes, when I so your ex and the way she talked about you and how she was back I panicked and left.”

Mara sniffed and wiped her tears. Carole opened her mouth and closed it. She didn’t have words. She only wished Mara would have talked to her about her insecurities. Fear suddenly gripped her heart. No, if she had talked to her about her feelings, Carole would have had to tell the truth about Elizabeth and her true feelings. And, Mara would have been gone forever. Carole would have lived a life without her. She couldn’t imagine that after everything.

“But maybe you are right. We have to let each other go.”

Mara stepped back still facing Carole. She toyed with the ring. It took a few seconds for Carole to understand what she had just said. She surged toward her.

“Wait! You can’t tell me all that and leave.”

“A few minutes ago, you were the one who wanted me gone because you presumed that I had a girlfriend, which I don’t, by the way.”

“I thought casual wasn’t your type”, she replied without thinking.

Mara raised an eyebrow. “People change. But, in this case, Ayela is just a friend. She and I are not like that and never will.”

Carole didn’t want to think to much on what she felt. Relief and fear. Relief to know Mara was still available and interested in her. Fear because something shifted in Mara’s behavior. She seemed unreachable. If Carole had hope to find her after all these years, she knew, deep down, that if Mara left the room, their relationship would definitely be dead.

The ring swayed slowly in the air before Mara caught it.

“I-.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be out of your hair. But I find it funny that you could be jealous of my friend but when it comes to your ex…” She left her sentence unfinished. “And she is still by your side. I guess some things never change”, Mara said grimly.

“Wh-what,” Carole spluttered. “There is nothing between her and I. And if you’d had stayed around the first time, you’d know that. But no, you ran out and left me the first chance you got.” Carole couldn’t stop the word from slipping out. She was angry. This situation and all of this should have never ended like that. She hated the mess Mara left. The gaping hole in her chest was screaming to hurt her as much as she did, even though, hurting Mara meant hurting herself. Her anguish face changed into an ugly sneer. “Living quite lavishly, don’t you? I didn’t know a librarian could live afford Hawaii. Last time we talked about it; it was just a dream. Oh, but wait, it’s true, I created a position for you in my company and paid you ridiculously high for the secretary job you were doing. And with all the money you saved on my back, living at my place, you should thank me to have put up with you.”

 It took her a few seconds to notice, but…

Carole was still flushed with anger, hands in fists by her sides.

It took her a few seconds to notice, but when she did…

She tried to calm down. Her eyes were still glaring at the ring which seemed to mock her.

It took her a few seconds to notice, but when she did, it was too late.

Mara stepped back hands on the doorknob.

Oh my God.

Realization hit Carole like a train. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Oh my God.

She couldn’t see Mara’s face. She was not facing her anymore. Carole tried to remember when she had moved. The scene was surreal. A few minutes earlier, Carole had wanted to fight for their relationship, fearing it’d be dead, and now, she was the one who totally shot it in the head, killing any chance to go back together.

“I’m so -”

“Don’t,” she interrupted with strangely calm and detached voice. Carole lips were trembling as she fought her tears. Jesus, she had fucked up. It wasn’t what she wanted to say. But she did anyway. Now, she had to- “I didn’t know you thought that of me. I’m sorry.” Carole frowned not understanding what was happening. “I’m sorry if you think I had used you.”

She seemed to want to add something but left the room instead. Before Carole had the time to react. Memories from the night of the party flooded her mind. Back then too, she hadn’t made reacted quickly enough. She ran to the door only to witness Mara in the elevator, head down, shoulder slumped.

Defeated.

Carole had done that.

She thought she’d feel better. She had been so angry and…and vengeful. She had been so hurt at Mara’s departure. Seeing her here, joyful, happy while she, herself, had been moping around and borderline depressive…something had finally snapped inside of her.

 Someone knocked on her door. She jumped to her feet and opened it. Her dad. She tried to hide her disappointment.

“Is everything ok, Care bear?”, he asked, worried.

She shook her head and fell into his arm. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

 It didn’t take long before he coaxed the story out of her. In between tears, sobs, and screams, everything came out. Her dad stayed calm and never interrupted her, whether she was right or wrong or didn’t make any sense. He stayed true to himself and let her cry her soul out. At the end, she felt so out of it. She could only focus on her breathing, any movement being too difficult.

“Hush hush my little girl”, he said, soothingly. “Sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow”.

“Stay here?”

He chuckled and nodded.

  Tomorrow wasn’t supposed to be that hard. Not at all. First and for the first time since forever, Carole had dreamt of Mara spooning her. Carole had hated the first time Mara had proposed to be the big spoon. She had argued, complained, and tried to push her away. She had not even stood a chance against Mara’s comfortable embrace and soothing caresses. If she remembered correctly, the morning after, she’d woken up on her pillowy boobs - Mara’s boobs were certainly the biggest she’d ever seen -, drool all over her mouth and obviously all over Mara.

She hadn’t missed Mara’s smug face and had tried to deflect this experience: she had drooled because she was extremely tired (a lie), her sinuses were blocked so she had to sleep mouth opened (a lie). Mara had only shrugged at her flimsy explanations and went to the bathroom.

What was only supposed to be a one-time experiment, turned out to be recurrent. Carole stopped fighting and accepted that Mara, indeed, was a great big spoon.

 Secondly, Carole woke up late. Around noon. She didn’t know why she was that exhausted. Her dad was long gone, and she was alone in her room, besides the little note she found on the drawer.

‘I let you sleep. Call me when you are up and we’ll talk (laughing smiley)’

She groaned and rolled under her cover. She was still tired even though her body was buzzing with energy. Her brain was sluggish, and she couldn’t really formulate a coherent thought.

She was forced to emerge from underneath all of her soft protection when she heard someone knocking on the door.

She pushed herself to a sitting position.

The knocking stopped as fast.

Had she imagined that?

No. Someone was really on the door and they were getting annoyed. The door was vibrating under the assault.

“I’m coming!”, she screamed, her voice raspy from the sleep and crying.

She didn’t even have the chance to wash her face or brush her teeth. For all she knew it was her dad and he had seen in far worse situation.

She opened the door and closed it quickly.

Mara and her not-girlfriend were there. In front of her door. She glanced quickly around and ran to her chair to pick up her robe, then the bathroom. She didn’t have the time to be thorough. She put toothpaste in her mouth, almost swallowing it, and washed her face.

 She was looking far better than a few seconds, but far worse than yesterday. Who knew that crying your eyes out would have this ugly consequence on her body? She tried not to focus on her red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks, and bags under her eyes.

She nibbled her fingers nervously. What the hell was she trying to do?

She came back to the door and attached her robe tightly. She could do it. Whatever it meant.

 Her first thought seeing Mara was that she looked…like shit. Carole felt a little bit relieved. At least not only her had suffered from their argument, even though, it wasn’t the same thing. She had unfairly insulted Mara, while she had taken Carole’s insults as truth. When Carole thought about it, – or at least tried to - she didn’t even know how to start her apology.

           They stood in front of each other in silence. The girl with Mara was more beautiful than she remembered. She was a natural beauty and transpired peace.

“My name is Aleya and I’m Mara’s friend.”

Carole nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t dare to talk.

“I’m here because, you both seem to be incredibly stupid. She talked to me about your fight, it wasn’t supposed to happen like it did. I had told her to talk about her feeling to get a new start, but she didn’t really understand what I said.” Aleya glared at Mara, who looked sheepish. “So, I’m leaving you, both. If anything turns south, I’ll have to be your mediator. And I don’t think you want me to listen to your heartfelt declarations”.

Aleya kissed Mara’s cheek, pushed her inside, and closed the door.

At first no one said anything. Mara was shuffling her feet and looked everywhere but at her.

“You can sit on the bed, if you want”.

Mara’s face said it all. She scrunched up her nose in a disgusted moue. Carole remembered her rules against beds and outside clothes. She chuckled silently.

“Or not. You can have one of the armchairs.”

She nodded, still silent, and sat on the chair. She made sure to take the furthest one away from Carole’s bed. Carole took a deep breath and went to sit on the bed.

“Do you want me to start or…?”

Mara tensed at the question, then opened her bag and took out a big envelope. She handed it to Carol without looking at her.

“What is it?” She asked uncertain.

“1 million 400 thousand 53 dollars.”

Carole stared at her lost. What the fuck was happening there? She opened the enveloped and saw two papers. One check and a…resignation letter?

“What is it, Mara?” Her voice sounded far away, even for herself.

“The money for my part of the rent and the salary you have paid me. The paper is my resignation letter. I should have done it a moment ago,” she announced with the same irritating calmed and detached voice as the day before.

Carole was left speechless. She gripped the envelop so tight her knuckles hurt. She couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“Is it about last night?” she asked, seething.

Mara raised un eyebrow.

“Fuck! I was angry and I lashed out. That didn’t mean anything. I wanted to hurt you. And…and…gosh, we need to have a real convo, with no interruption, no matter how hurtful we might say things. I will talk first and then I will let you talk. Ok?”

Mara nodded.

“It is true that the first few months after my breakup with Elizabeth and the first few months with you, I wasn’t a 100 percent in our relationship. I still had a part of me who grieved Elizabeth’s departure. I expected to hear bad news from the moment she left. She had been there for most of my life. I had been with her for almost all of it.” Carole straightened her back. She had long stopped trying to decipher Mara’s unreadable face and focused on her hands. “I shouldn’t have accepted to be with you so soon. I knew that you had feelings for me, and I used you, in a way. Your love soothed Elizabeth’s absence. There is no way I could actually make up for that. I should have talked to you about it and told you my thoughts. But the most important part is that I didn’t, and I hurt you all along. I don’t deserve you in any way. It took me a long time to actually register. You gave and gave, and I took all of it without giving you back. I can’t travel to the past and erase what I’ve done, because you did deserve more than half my attention.” 

Carole pried her fingers open, straightened the creases on the envelop and took the check out. 

“What I said yesterday was false. I know damn well that you didn’t use me, and you would have had the job anyway. I didn’t have to intercede for you, Marco was already smitten with you, in the first place,” Carole shredded the check and threw the confetti in the trash bin. “As for your resignation, if it is really what you want, I’ll accept it. I don’t want you to do something reckless and regret it. I know a thing or two about regrets”, she laughed mirthlessly.

Mara leaned forward and put her head in her hands.

“I shouldn’t have left like that,” she took a shuddered breath. “I was afraid you’d stay with me because I’m the one who’ll never go away. I was never doing a risky job or traveling all day. I was a safe investment, as your friend “gently” repeated. I was blind, you know? I had the feeling that you didn’t actually reciprocated my feelings, but I thought naively that once you’d see my for what I am you’d fall in love with me.” She chuckled humorlessly. “It is not entirely your fault. You weren’t really hiding your sadness and longing for Elizabeth. There were my red flags, but I kept going, head down convincing myself that at the end you’d forget about her and you’d love me. Damn, saying those words out loud make me sound more fucked up than I was.” She paused, massaged her temples and kept going. “I will keep the job and the money since you destroyed the check.”

That was it. Carole had expected Mara to talk more. She, herself, had explained thoroughly her feelings. If anything, this discussion felt as if they were putting a stamp on their relationship. A stamp which would definitely seal their fate. Carole, once more, didn’t like where it was going. She hadn’t expected a huge effusion of love and vows of a happy ending.

Mara was so closed to her and yet so far. She still couldn’t read her face and her voice didn’t let any emotion through.

“Is it…everything you wanted to say?”

Mara shrugged. Carole refrained herself from throttling her. She didn’t like that Mara. She missed the one who kissed her and teased her last night. Where was she gone? She blocked all the obvious answers and stubbornly hoped.

“Are you not going to say anything?” Carole asked, expectantly.

“You said your piece, I have said mine. What more do you want?”

“I don’t know. Yesterday we kissed. I thought today we could talk and salvage the rest of our relationship. Now I know why you left and now I apologized for my behavior, I had hoped, maybe, if you want, that we could learn again how to be with each other, and perhaps, if everything goes well, we could go out.”

Mara stayed silent for an instead, fidgeting. Carole repressed the urge to take her hands in hers, then gave in. She kneeled in front of Mara and took each hand in each of hers and brought them together.

“I don’t want to get hurt”, Mara whispered, softly.

“I know my Astroios.” Mara glanced sharply at her, making her smile. “I know. I can’t promise we won’t hurt each other. I can only assure you to communicate with you. I know I have a lot to make up for. What happened with Elizabeth was a toxic foundation for our relationship. Unfortunately, it took me many months, and some visits to my therapist to work on my feelings, both for you and Elizabeth. I had to admit that I love (Mara’s breath hitched) and loved her as she was my first relationship, but I was never in love with her. We’ve been together since we were kids. I didn’t know any better. There was no spark, no passion and tenderness only two horny teens and a good friendship. I was so used to her in my life that I considered her more like a friend with benefits at the end.” 

Carole bent her head, nose grazing the back of Mara’s hand. She pressed a few featherlike kisses. Words fell out of her mouth naturally.

“According to my therapist, you were never a rebound, even though I made you feel like that. I was afraid of really falling in love with someone and so I tried to hold onto every bits of my former life. I remember everything from our first date to the first time I knew you were the one and had to ask for my granny’s wedding ring from my safe at the bank. I tried to act as if I was detached from you because you were so addicting. You made me go to museums, theatres, operas, libraries, concerts, food trucks I didn’t know about. Even old things were looking new under your gaze. I had fallen hard and quick. Couldn’t help myself really. I actually wanted to admit my feelings to you that night at the party, and I ended up revealing my feelings to my ex-friends. I was beyond pissed.”

Carole shook her head amused. She could clearly remember the faces of her then friends. Lost in her thought, she almost didn’t hear what Mara said.

“…love you.”

Carole tilted Mara’s chin toward her and pressed their foreheads together. Blues eyes against brown whiskey eyes.

“I love you.”

Tears were running downs their cheeks. Carole couldn’t help but sagged in relief, tension seeping out of her body.

It would be alright. I would be alright. We will be alright, she thought, hopeful.

“We’ll have to take it slow, right?” Mara asked, unsure.

“Yep, we have all the time in the world,” Carole reassured her, keeping her excitement at bay. She didn’t want to frighten Mara. Everything was still fragile.

“But, I’m staying here and you’ll be in San Francisco. How are we going to do?”

Oh. Carole hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d believe Mara would have followed her back home, but it was counteractive to their “take it slow” plan.

“I am on vacation for a month or two. I could stay at the hotel, and we could go on dates, no pressure. Then I’ll have to go back but we’ll be able to communicate and call each other every day.”

“Do you think it is worth it?” Mara asked, abruptly.

What? Was Mara already backpedaling?

“What?”

“You didn’t…your relationship with Elizabeth didn’t survive the long distance. How could ours do so?”

“I told you I was not in love with her. And Boston/Hawaii is not that far. Roughly 6 hours.”

She could tell Mara wasn’t happy with this answer. Carole, herself, didn’t want to think of their future separation. One had been enough. Her only consolation would be that, this time, they’d be together.

“We’ll have to take it slow. Give us this time to work things out. If it doesn’t work out -- ” She shivered at the thought. “…we’ll part as good friends.”

Mara scrutinized her face before nodding.

“Ok. But no funny business.”

“No “funny business”, Carole repeated slowly. It was a whiplash. A moment Mara was about to flee and now her entire demeanor was open. She looked relaxed, at ease and her usual smirk was back. Carole closed her hand, repressing the need to kiss her plump lips. ‘No funny business’. “Do you take me for an easy person?”

“You jumped on me after our first date”, she replied deadpanned.

Carole raised her left hand. “I pledge the fifth.”

“So, you are guilty. Only guilty people pledge the fifth.”

“Lies, lies and slander!” Carole exclaimed, indignant.

“Is it too late to back off this relationship?” she asked, pouting.

“Nope!” Carole hugged Mara and lifted her from her chair to the bed, making her squeal in delight. She straddled Mara’s hips and pinned her down. “Now I got you, I’m keeping you.”

Mara tested Carole’s grip and smiled. The very first one of the day. Let it not be a dream, she prayed, fervently.

“I’m not an easy woman, you know?”

“Who said I’d do some ‘funny businesses’ with you, anyway?”, Carole teased her playfully. She couldn’t stop the soft and gooey feeling from blossoming in her heart. The tiredness from earlier left for a tension she hadn’t felt since their breakup. Her skin was too tight, too hot and too sensitive. All the nerves were so attuned with Mara’s body that she didn’t know where her body started and where it ended.

“Hey! You couldn’t resist me yesterday. You were ready to risk it all.”

Carole scoffed and rolled next to Mara.

“If that makes you sleep at night”.

“No, I have Herberta for that.”

“Her…what?”

“Herberta”, Mara replied, with a tone she wasn’t used anymore. The one which said, ‘you are really thick in the head, I don’t know why I’m still talking to you.’

Part 2 aka final part

[staliasjeronica]

Riverdale S4 Ep14 Thoughts *Spoilers*

- Imagine walking into your house with nothing on and being found by your parents lmaooo that’d be so awkward…. at least Veronica and Betty look good (as always)

- Seeing Betty break down like this is so nice to see because it shows that she’s not as put together (or perfect) as they try to make her out to be, and that could have been an interesting plot for “Dark Betty” but they’ve pretty much run that into the ground with random bullshit that makes no sense so umm :(

- People were raving about “Veronica being a bad friend” (Even though she’s only ever been a good friend to B despite B treating her awfully) when all she’s doing is asking questions, as you should when you find your friend holding a rock that killed your other friend… But God this “perfect murder” bs is so dumb like??

- Betty, inviting Kevin back is even more suspicious because you never talk to him anymore lmao but sure 

- Archie really thought his mom knew about the murder somehow lmao???

- So ten minutes or so before the episode (for me) aired, people were saying Mary is bisexual or a lesbian or something without it being confirmed why would you guys get my hopes up please—

- Veronica going off 🥺🥺 Cami is such a great actress we love to see it

- God this faking Jughead’s death thing could have actually been interesting but they had to ruin it. Like there’s not even a clear reason what the fuck is even going on or why with the Stonewall Preppies. Like, is it all just to create “the perfect murder” because if so that’s so boring and dumb….

- NOW THEY BRING UP BETTY DROWNING CHUCK??? At least they didn’t make it sound like it was a good thing like last time. But I’m glad they kind of showed that Archie has also put Betty on the same pedestal Jughead has where she can do no wrong and she’s perfect, but Veronica, who’s actually seen the dark side of Betty, knows at least a sliver of what she’s capable of. I know they won’t actually tackle that or use it and make it an interesting, well thought out storyline, but a girl can dream for this show to have SOMETHING going for it.

- The whole reason why this storyline is so fucking boring and everyone wants it to be over with (not only because it’s only about Bughead and Betty like always) is because it makes no sense and it’s so over the top. It’s a shame they tend to destroy all the possibly good plots.

- Now Betty is lying to Charles… typical.

- WAIT BI!MARY IS CANON?! I—WAIT HOLD ON I CAN’T FOCUS ON THE BARCHIE CRUMB YET I’M STILL REELING

- If they actually made Betty be the one who killed Jughead that’d be incredible because she’s gotten away with so much bullshit and it would be such a twist. But the writers are too far up her ass so :/

- HOWEVER ARCHIE FUCKING BEATING THE SHIT OUT BRET WE LOVE TO SEE IT.

- Someone actually beating Betty at “her own game” and bringing her down a peg? Love that, wish we saw more of it. The only few times we ever got it was when Sweet Pea rightfully called her out for using the Serpents, and Veronica when she finally stands up for herself.

- ARCHIE WAS ABOUT TO CONFESS NOOOO BETTY WHY. So we get a Barchie window scene but it’s Betty (who came out of nowhere like how would she know does she have his room bugged or something?) commanding Archie to not tell his mom smh Barchie’s were ROBBED

- Imagine Jughead’s dumbass telling his almost-sister girlfriend about his plan but not his SHERIFF father………… like the smartest thing would be to get his dad’s help and not some impulsive girl who never thinks before she does shit. (On this note though I’m making a Jeronica drabble/short story where Veronica helps Jughead fake his death and it’ll be much more interesting than this forced, cluttered bs so be on the lookout!)

- HOWEVER the Souphead and Jughead discourse is pretty interesting because we’re not sure whether they pulled a PLL (even though everyone hated it) by bringing in someone we’ve never heard of before and having them be the culprit (aka the “Jughead” who died), or if Jughead is actually dead and will start playing as Souphead (which would be really really good) (by the way, us Jerronica’s claim Souphead so um we can just alter our headcanon a bit if that’s the case)

- Betty stop pretending that your mom and your future step dad are dumb… just tell them what happened Jesus Christ

- Veronica 🥺🥺🥺 I feel for her because my mom’s in a somewhat similar position. Oh… he wants her to get along with Hermosa??? Maybe his illness is real because I was thinking he was gonna be like “it would be nice if you stopped going against me” which would obviously be a fake out but he chose to ask her to get along with Hermosa instead……… interesting……..

- DON’T TELL ME BETTY’S DUMB FUCKING ASS DIDN’T HIDE THE ROCK WITH HER AND JUGHEAD’S DNA ON IT?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!? And you call Betty the detective lmaoooooooooooo If Veronica was in charge this wouldn’t have happened lol

- CAN YOU JUST LET BETTY GET ARRESTED SO THERE’D BE AN ACTUAL INVESTIGATION INTO THIS BULLSHIT?!?!?! Also not Charles, an FBI agent, lifting up evidence they’re switching in plain view…

- THE STONIES RUINING VERONICA’S CHANCE AT COLLEGE?!??!?!? BITCH PLEASE WHY ARE THEY DRAGGING VERONICA INTO THIS?!?!? Suddenly it’s not Hiram, but the preppies………??? God I’m so sick of this

- Veronica is such a G like Betty has treated her like trash and she’s still here for her. Also, every time Veronica comes into the plot with a plan it’s always thought out well and she just… always comes through but Betty is the girl with the plan??? make it make sense luv

-  If they make Charles in on it for some reason or some how that would be interesting but really sad because I like Charles and Falice deserves better.

- If Donna is the one who actually hit him, wouldn’t there be her DNA on it too???

- GOD THIS STORY IS JUST SO FUCKING… DUMB…………

- BETTY MAKES ARCHIE GO?!?!!?!?! GOD POOR FP THOUGH NO— lmao so people just let Bret and Donna go up to the door okay…….

- Imagine if they actually handled Jughead’s death storyline well and made it enjoyable and interesting, imagine how great it could have been instead of this forced, boring bs sigh

- Mary :((( WAIT IS ARCHIE FINALLY TELLING HIS MOM—

- The fact that they don’t let Veronica mourn Jughead smh… also can we stop with the fucking infuriating detective!Hermosa we already have Betty and that’s awful enough.

- LMAOOOOOO BETTY REALLY BE POINTING OUT EVERYONE PLAYFULLY SHIPPING HER AND DONNA

- So now Betty only wants to get rid of Donna and not Bret??? Fucking WHY??? This isn’t about her being better than sleuthing and being a bitch than you, Betty, this is about Jughead, your step-brother boyfriend. Also, Betty you ain’t scary or badass and never (scary, she has had SOME badass moments) have been

- Hey, Betty’s wearing Jughead’s jacket… that’s low-key cute but you didn’t hear that from me.

- Why they put Varchie together in one cell and Betty in another?? lmao what—

- So I think Archie did tell his mom, and now the parents are in on it and the arrest is just to make the preppies think they’re safe/slip up… anyways thank God that’s over

[caligobeltrao]

I for one would love 2 hear ur thoughts on the hannibal novel 👀👀 - bloodybrahms ☺

ahhh thank you BB!! <3 I’m gonna throw it under a cut bc I know people aren’t gonna want my ramblings clogging up their dash lol. 

Edit after I’ve written it: Holy shit this turned into a monster but tbf I did say I was going to rant. I think I miss writing college essays...

Also, I would like to note bc I’m about to bitch, I do still love Hannibal and Clarice and all of the franchise. Hell, I even love book Hannibal because I’m garbage and want to be special. So yeah. It’s a fond bitching. 

Okay where to fuckin begin man... This novel was a fucking Shit Show, my dudes. It was like baby’s first fanfiction. 

Let’s just jump in, shall we? 

So by now, having read both Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs, I know Harris injects of lot of sexual shit into his novels, fine whatever, but the amount of pedophilia is insane. Like, Red Dragon with the grandmother threatening to cut his dick off by holding it in between scissors????? And then we have Mason Verger, worst human on the planet. Like jfc I’ll go into him specifically more later but just. Men. Why does it always have to be sexual. 

Like that time Clarice wasn’t wearing a bra and she wanted to prove to Paul Krendler she wasn’t wearing a wire so she flashed him her tits?? Unnecessary, Harris. Bullshit on all counts. 

Next, poor Ardelia Mapp. So he clearly wrote out her accent in Silence, which frankly reads racist since to me it seemed like he did it every time a character of color was met but he didn’t for Clarice’s Southern accent except for this book when she was talking to Ardelia. Now, that’d be a cool way to show how close they are, sure, but it just... She didn’t show up enough to warrant that reaction from me, plus all the other casually racist shit he throws in. 

Ardelia’s literally there as the wise Black best friend to help Clarice along. She doesn’t feel like her own character, she’s only there in conjunction with her, or doing something for her. She was the fucking valedictorian for Christ fucking sake, she also works at the Bureau but if her department was mentioned it was only once in passing. She was not a full character which fucking blows because she could’ve been so cool. 

And real quick before I forget, I hate how she’s treated in the end. I do like she gets a reference and that brainwashed Clarice sent her an emerald ring and a note saying she was okay, but Ardelia was abandoned by her best friend (that she had lived with) with not even a phone call and they will never see each other again and I think Ardelia knows it. It sucks and I’m heartbroken for this woman. 

I’m gonna touch a little bit on the racism too. Now I’m white and not the most qualified to talk about this shit, but I do wanna mention it because it makes me mad. There’s just so many unnecessary slurs, any POC is more of a background helper character to Clarice than anything or a foil. 

For example, Evelda Drumgo. She starts us off. Badass Black woman who runs a drug cartel. She chooses to shoot at Clarice and risk her baby’s life, and we have Clarice wash the baby off and save his life. Then Evelda’s mother is written as irrational when she slaps Clarice for visiting the baby in the hospital; I get Clarice’s impulse, but that woman just lost her daughter because Clarice killed her. I would’ve slapped Clarice too, even if it was a totally justifiable shot. 

The baby himself is used as a foil throughout other parts, most notably to me when Clarice goes to visit Mason the first time. There are two Black boys from a foster home playing in a room with a camera so Mason can watch them, and it shakes Clarice up a lil bit because of the baby, but it says she’s getting more used to it.

Now this is half and half well written and shoddy to me. It’d be a cool moment, if the whole incident wasn’t nearly completely forgotten for the rest of the book shortly afterword. It could show growth, if Clarice had any growth to show. 

And then the Romani people who are literally just used and thrown away. Sickening. Also very broadly used the stereotypes we hear which Sucks; the three we meet in any sort of depth are pickpockets, one was already in jail and Pazzi used his leverage as a police officer to get her to do what he wanted and threatened to have her baby taken away from her permanently, like it was just bad. And then the man got killed. Pazzi let him bleed out. Asshole. 

The slurs. I could take out all of them and pretty much have the same damn thing. Like I get showing negative aspects of characters and just because a character’s racist doesn’t mean the author is, but with the characters already being as shitty as they are, fully didn’t need it to make them worse. Entirely unnecessary. Racism or the character being racist has no impact on the plot is the major thing, I think. And you can replace that with anything along those lines, like sexist, homophobic, transphobic. It didn’t impact the plot, they can still be shitty, you just don’t need to use them. 

This also goes in reference to Margot being a lesbian. And the transphobia holy shit, it was disgusting. Harris had Clarice think something so cruel and unnecessary it’s like my guy why was that even remotely something we needed to hear. We didn’t. I wanted to stop reading because that’s not my Clarice, first and foremost, and second, this is supposed to be the character we LIKE. And now I don’t like ANYBODY in this damn book. 

And he treats Margot like shit too, and Barney. 

Their friendship was beautiful and great and finally for once something nice was happening in Margot’s life and I was happy reading it, and then FOR SOME REASON Margot goes to shower in the same room as Barney after a workout, which makes no sense, and then Barney tries to force a kiss on her (and he was hard, Harris made that very clear) and she had been sexually assaulted by Mason her brother and ruin the whole damn thing and none of it would have changed any other piece of the novel if you removed it!!!!!!!!! Entirely unnecessary!!!!!! And Barney had the gall to say well I couldn’t help myself like none of that was realistic in the slightest, she never would have went in the same room to shower with him. 

Something you need to do is basically get some suspension of disbelief from your reader and maintain and stretch that as you go, right? Well mine was gone at that moment.

Also side note Margot is basically just there to show how shitty Mason is for the umpteenth time. Her whole thing is lesbian sexual assault victim.

Also heavily implied she was a lesbian because of the sexual assault. And we rarely see Judy, her girlfriend, so. Bad. Bad all around. 

Circling back around to Clarice and how disappointing she is in the books as compared to the movies. Well, Clarice is also a poorly written character. She’s 1000x better in the movie. Hell, she’s even better in this book than she was in Silence, but that’s not fucking hard. 

Pretty much all the characters are so flat they don’t even classify as two dimensional. 

Like sure, maybe we wanna say Clarice didn’t really solve much in the first book and was just handed everything because she was a trainee and that’s what Hannibal wanted. 

Like if you remember the John Mulaney sketch of Delta Airlines where he’s just going “Okay!” and running to the next place he’s told, that’s Clarice. 

Okay so why does she get goaded into all this shit now? She should know better. She should know how to handle herself better. Like she messes up basic fucking shit like clearing a room before untying Hannibal, which was stupid, she seems oblivious to some of the politics at work even though she’s been in the FBI for like 7 years now, she would at least have more fucking contacts than Brigham who died in the beginning and Jack Crawford who died at the end by rolling over in his bed to his dead wife’s side and Ardelia who would be near the same level as Clarice I guess but I still don’t know her damn department???? Like you fucking network. 

Plus after her final fall from grace with the FBI, we meet or are told of random side characters that go no where and do nothing just to say “hey look at my special little girl, everyone likes her and looks up to her!!” Why? Because she caught Buffalo Bill 7 years ago and then never got a promotion or even worked with the BAU? Again, it does not make sense. People may pity her? But a random girl in the lab wouldn’t be fangirling. Starling herself said her career had gone nowhere because of the politics and not sleeping with Paul. You need to show me why she’s likable in her actions not others words. 

We spend more time away from her than with her anyways but Jesus. 

AND HER IN THE ENDING. She was fucking BRAINWASHED????? Bull FUCKING SHIT. He completely ruined anything he even remotely might’ve had in this cluster fuck of a novel. 

Case in point, difference from the movie, Hannibal spends weeks (possibly? it’s left purposefully vague and I’m guessing that’s because Harris didn’t know the ins and outs and wanted his novel done) meticulously brainwashing Clarice, he had stolen her father’s bones and she’s so far gone at that point she doesn’t care, and the whole scene where Paul is getting his brain eaten? Yeah, she happily indulges and when he insults her, she asks Hannibal for more. Fuck you, Thomas Harris. 

And Hannibal’s a Gary Stu, fucking fight me. 

In the movie he either is or he’s tap dancing on that line, don’t get me wrong, but in the novels it’s insufferable because it doesn’t seem earned. The pigs didn’t attack him because they didn’t smell fear on him. No. He’s easily able to drug and brainwash Clarice and take her as his lover. No. Go away. He’s so smart and one step ahead and can manipulate anyone and everyone into doing what he wants and blah blah blah shut up! A character being perfect isn’t interesting even if he’s evil!! We all know he’s never truly in danger because of how Harris writes him and that’s boring!! 

And I personally have a pet peeve where the villain is described as a monster or unstoppable. That’s boring and I no longer care about your story. I know 9 times out of 10 your main character is going to find a bullshit way around the impossible and kill it. Or it’s just like a default personality and nothing else is added to it. And that’s Hannibal. 

I’m on Hannibal Rising now and, spoiler alert, he’s very bland as a character. (Also Harris switched some details in the novel which kinda annoys me like get your own canon right my man but whatever.) The plot itself is pretty fun? I guess? Like there’s action and stuff and I’m enjoying that. But it’s the same set up where Harris’s Gary Stu always wins, like he was 13 in the book when he killed the butcher. Let. Your. Characters. Lose. 

Also even more racist shit but what did I expect really. 

Anyways, I have no idea who I’m supposed to root for in the novel because all the characters are just kinda shitty. It really just boils down to Harris not showing any redeeming qualities or actions from any of his characters. I liked Margot for a while out of spite but she never really went anywhere and the way she killed Mason (btw she sodomized him with a cattle prod to get his semen bc side plot and then stuffed his Moray eel down his throat and somehow I still don’t think that’s the worst part of the novel) just. No thanks really. 

All the random little side plots were also pretty not great. How many time does Harris have to say Pazzi of the Pazzis? Like I fucking get what you’re going for, even if I hadn’t watched the movie I’d be like, “Oh this dude’s gonna get hung outta that window, dope,” the literal first time. Stop treating your readers like idiots. 

And then Margot’s side plot was that the will their father left said she needed a biological heir to inherit because he was pissed she’s gay and we needed the homophobia I guess, so Mason got everything, and she was helping him with the Hannibal shit because he’s pretty incapacitated duh, and in return he would give her his jizz so Judy could be artificially inseminated and they could have a child and get some of her inheritance. I don’t care. It was all very gross, and Mason kept saying shit like suck me off you’ve done it before, I won’t be able to feel it anyway, maybe Judy’ll suck me off you think she’d like that. It’s all gross. 

And I guess this is a good a time as any to finally start on Mason. So a great rule of writing to make everything work better and give your story more depth is to give everyone both positive and negative traits right, even and especially the bad guys? Like, rules can always be broken if you’re a good enough writer, but I believe I have established that Harris isn’t quite there yet, to put it nicer than I have. 

Mason is one bad trait after another. It’s like when Harris was bored of constantly writing about plain ole pedophilia, he threw a dart at a board of horrible things and landed on topics such as: pedophilia but make it incest, extreme sadism, sadism but against children now, and good old fashioned racism! Fucking Cordell was supposed to collect the children’s tears after Mason would make them cry and put them in martinis for him. Realism went out the goddamn door real fast with this novel y’all. Like a fucking Scooby Doo villain over here. 

And he loves talking about being a sadistic pedophile, he will literally not shut up about it to Clarice when she first gets there telling her about his trip to Africa and this portable guillotine he has and just. I get it was probably like trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose because he’s a Freak, but it went way too far if only because it was annoying, not even uncomfortable for me as a reader. I was bored real quick. Get to the shit I actually wanna know. 

And it sucks because of the weird, over-the-top way of how he died, I got zero satisfaction from his death. I couldn’t even be like, “Well at least Margot got her revenge,” because that’s not how she originally wanted to kill him!!! She wanted someone else to extract his semen for the insemination but couldn’t find anybody to do it for her, and then Hannibal, whilst tied up, said use a cattle prod and you won’t have to touch him and when you kill him you can blame it on me, and I’m pretty sure even if she hit his prostate right every time and he COULD cum from that alone in addition to how his body is Fucked Up now, it would’ve been a lengthy, gross, and re-traumatizing experience for her because all she wanted to do was avoid seeing and touching her brother’s private parts again, which I think is a totally fair and rational desire. 

So I have to live with the fact that she was desperate enough to not lose the house and business because of her homophobic father to go through her childhood trauma again. There’s no place in this book that has a somewhat positive conclusion. 

Even the very last bit where Barney has a girlfriend and a ton of cash from Margot, all he wants to do is see every Vermeer in the world right? Well, because Hannibal and Clarice are in Buenos Aires where one of them is on display, Barney gets spooked and has him and his girlfriend leave before he can see it and it ends that bit with he never got to see it ever so he didn’t even complete his dream!!! 

Also for good measure, Harris throws in that Hannibal and Clarice enjoy having sex regularly. For no reason. Just letting us know. 

I know this seemed like just a bitch fest, because it was, but I kinda sorta enjoyed it? It kept my attention at the very least. It’s really disappointing because like I said, I love the movies, all of them, and have since I was little. To see the original not stand up to that image in my mind is a little heartbreaking. Especially Clarice. She was a strong female role model to me, but turns out she’s... just kinda there. And her ending is that of her no longer being herself and getting that agency taken away from her. 

There is a reference to her waking up from a sleep, if she is asleep (that’s kind of how he worded it), that kinda let us draw our conclusions on whether she was just brainwashed into being good for him or if she was willingly going along with this and was in love with him I guess and it felt like a slap in the face. She turned from a hardworking, modest country girl working her way up to the FBI into a female Hannibal. Which on the surface sounds kinda cool because we love luxe serial killers, but that’s not what she wanted or who she was set up to be. And to insinuate that she would even remotely consider choosing that path for herself is at its best an insult to her and at its worst a complete erasure of her background, what little character Harris did set up. It also completely erases my own connections to her, as a girl from a small town myself who has bigger dreams than this and also... a good, strong set of morals. He just tossed that out the window. 

Obviously if you’re on this blog, you like slasher x reader shit, and this is a novel with a slasher x a person, right? So why am I so mad about it? Because the whole point of this blog and reader insert fanfiction in general is that you are taken as you are and loved wholly as yourself and that you are worthy of that love (in a fictional setting, not really loving people who are like this, which I think we understand but I want to clarify). She was not taken as she was. He is not in love with her, she is not in love with him. She was transformed into what he wanted out of her. He couldn’t get her to be Mischa, his first plan, so he made her like himself. And the fact that he was so easily able to do it makes me upset, and even more so is that it’s not written like it’s weird or wrong. It’s written like they’re in love and this is a good thing. 

He may have been going for the classic “everyone is capable of doing bad things” stuff we see a lot, but we got that from Margot already. And Barney, for stealing Lecter’s stuff and selling it. And Paul, and the entire FBI for turning on Clarice, and the kidnappers, and Pazzi, and random shitty side characters. And none of it was particularly well written or made some sort of strong statement. It just was. And that’s not a good enough basis for a novel. 

Anyways, if you made it this far holy shit you’re a saint and I love you, let’s be friends?? <3 Have a good day y’all, thank you BB for giving me permission to ramble. 

[themangledsans0508]

Sleepover Surprises

Tweek approached the pale green house cautiously, clinging the straps of his bags tightly. He didn’t know why he agreed to this, he could be doing anything else tonight. Instead, he was sleeping over at Wendy Testaburger’s house, most likely to be pressed about the details of his relationship. At least it wouldn’t be just the two of them, the New Kid (who’s name he still didn’t know) would also be there.

He liked Wendy well enough, along with Douche-bag, he just got rather stressed when it came to sleepovers, and Wendy could convince anyone to divulge their deepest secrets. Douche-bag, on the other hand, preferred to keep to himself, nobody really knew anything about him, but Wendy trusted the two of them to let them sleepover at her house.

He knocked on the door, hoping that no one would answer and he could just go home, or maybe go to Craig’s house. Alas, no such thing happened, and a tall man answered the door.

“Yes?” He recognized the man as Wendy’s father, confirming he was at the right house.

“Wendy invited me over for a sleepover,” he said, twitching slightly.

“She’s upstairs in her room with some other kid.” He motioned him inside. Tweek looked around the house as he made his way up the stairs. He heard laughter and muffled talking and followed it to Wendy’s room. He knocked first to be polite and not walk in on something he didn’t want to see.

“Come in!” Wendy called. Tweek slowly opened the door and inspected the room.

The room was a soft pink, with a yellow rim around the bottom that looked like clouds. There were flower and animal decals all around, and a few posters. The floor had a teal circle rug with a red bean bag chair and an orange lounge chair. There was also a pink desk and the bed had purple blankets on it.

Wendy and Douche-bag sat on the floor, nail polish spread out between them. There were lots of different shades of pink and purple on display, along with other colors that had not been taken out of the basket yet. Wendy’s nails were painted rose pink, and the pair was currently applying lilac polish to Douche-bag's nails.

“Hey, Tweek! Come sit down! We don’t have to paint your nails, but Willow doesn’t have any nail polish at home so we’re doing them now!”

“Willow? That’s your name?” Tweek asked and Willow nodded. “That’s a pretty weird name for a boy.” Wendy scanned him.

“She’s not a boy, Tweek,” she informed him. Tweek blinked a few times.

“Why didn’t you tell us, dude?” Willow shifted uncomfortably. There were some soft words exchanged between Wendy and Willow before she spoke.

“I’ve lost friends because of it. Before I moved here to South Park. Here, I got jumped by rednecks,” she said quietly. 

“That’s one of the reasons I asked you two to a sleepover. Besides just wanting to hang out, because we have to hang out before you can call me ‘girlfriend’ Tweek, you don’t have those privileges yet. But, you’re both LGBT.” Tweek nodded. He’d heard that acronym before, specifically with Mr Mackey and PC Principal. Neither had really explained what it meant, however.

“I’ve heard that before. What does it mean?” Tweek questioned. Wendy looked at him in surprise.

“You’re not really in the gay community much online, are you? And nobody told you either, Jesus. It’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender. There’s also a plus, which incorporates the rest of the community. Since we now have two fully out kids and one partially out, plus at least five I can name who are in the closet, plus myself, I think we should have a pride alliance at our school.”

“What’s a pride alliance?”

“A group for LGBT people so they can support each other, participate in activism, and educate people. Because you guys know that a lot of kids in our school, even LGBT kids, make homophobic and trans-phobic jokes or just know nothing about any of it. Tweek, for a lot of kids, you and Craig were the first gay people they’ve ever met. With Mr Garrison gone, Big Gay Al and Mr Slave keeping to themselves, and Ned and Jimbo running a gun shop and just seeming like your average rednecks. Willow, you’re the first transgender person almost everyone in town has met. We need to raise awareness. Willow, you’ve already told me about some things people have said to and about you.”

Tweek looked at Willow, who was looking away from the group and carefully pulling at the rug so she didn’t ruin her nails. She looked embarrassed like she was ashamed that she had been harassed. 

“What was said to you?” Tweek asked gently.

“You know, like, people called me a tranny, called me a ‘thing’, and said I’m not a real girl because I have a dick. Stuff like that, it’s fine,” she said quietly. Tweek would have never guessed that someone who faced a literal eldritch monster could be so shy. 

“It’s not fine, sis. These things aren’t okay. I know some of these people might be your friends, but it’s still not okay.” Wendy placed a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture with a soft smile on her face.

“Tweek, you and I have heard lots of bad things about gay people in our school. A lot from Cartman, but a lot from other people too.” Tweek nodded, he’d heard a lot of things. Probably the only reason nobody went after him was that he was dating Craig Tucker and that they both had gotten into fights and could hold their own. Plus, Craig was a respected person in their school as someone who didn’t take shit.

“Okay, so I think we need a pride alliance, do you guys agree?” Wendy looked to them for a genuine response. Both Willow and Tweek nodded.

“Great! With that out of the way, now we can really just hang out!” Wendy waved her hands excitedly. 

“Tweek, do you want your nails painted?” Wendy asked. Tweek hesitated. He wanted to try it again as himself and not a metro-sexual, but he didn’t want to break the barrier that kept him safe from ridicule.

He decided fuck it if anyone wanted to cause trouble him or Craig could deal with it.

“Sure, why not!” Tweek grinned. Maybe it would help him stop picking at his nails. Wendy started filing through her containers of polish. She and Willow exchanged words that Tweek couldn’t hear due in part to the clinking of glass. Willow looked him over and whispered to Wendy. Wendy paused for a moment and looked up at Tweek.

“We can do any color you want, but we recommend green or blue. Green compliments your usual outfit, while blue highlights your eyes,” Wendy suggested.

Tweek debated the options. He’d rather not do a different color since he didn’t really know much about fashion and things going together, he wanted to understand it first. Green was his favorite color, but blue was Craig’s favorite color. He decided green, he’d do blue next time.

“Green,” he said. Tweek watched Wendy take out different shades of green and Willow inspect them. After about ten rejected shades, Willow showed one to Wendy. Wendy nodded and turned to Tweek.

“What do you think about this shade? It’s pastel.” Tweek looked at the color. It was only a bit darker than some of the other shades and he didn’t know how they had decided on this specific one.

“Whatever you guys think, you’re the experts,” he shrugged. 

“Well then give me your hand, I’m steadier than Willow since she’s new.” Wendy held his wrist tightly so he wouldn’t twitch and mess up her work while Willow watched.

“You said Willow’s new, well how long have you been painting nails, Willow?” he asked. She counted on her fingers.

“About two weeks, since I only started after we stopped playing with that damned stick. And that’s also when my dad let me start using it.” Tweek recognized her tone of voice. It was the same one he used when he talked to Craig about his parents, one of sadness and bitterness. He wanted to show he understood where she was coming from.

“The only reason my parents accepted me was that it would be good for their business, not because I was their son,” Tweek said bitterly. 

“Guys, I hate to break it to you, but your parents are terrible,” Wendy interrupted. Tweek looked at Wendy with a scowl that wasn’t directed at her.

“You have no idea,” he muttered. 

Willow didn’t say anything, instead, she checked her nails to make sure she hadn’t accidentally smudged the lilac. He noticed Wendy debating something in her head and wondered if he should ask her about it. However, Wendy focused on Tweek’s nails again and he figured she had decided not to say anything.

“Wendy,” Tweek said, “that wasn’t the only real reason you invited us here, right?” Wendy shook her head.

“No, I wanted to hang out, and-” she got a mischievous grin on her face, “ask how your boyfriend is.” Tweek laughed.

“I thought that was a reason.”

“Can you blame her? I had to get you two back together.” Willow said.

“There’s that voice of yours!” Wendy wrapped her arm around Willow’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“Well, I really love your relationship, it’s healthy and it’s a good example of how to support your partner through difficult moments. Like Tweek, I don’t know if you’re open about it but I can tell you have anxiety. And as far as I’ve seen, fighting alongside you two in battle and risking our lives together, Craig really does his best to help you stay grounded,” Willow explained, “Also, I want to try and get more comfortable around you, I think you’re a friend of mine.”

“Aww, Willow, you want to be closer friends with Tweek? I’m glad I planned this sleepover,” Wendy grinned. 

“I mean, everything you said is true as long as he doesn’t start being a jerk. Sometimes he gets moody, but we’re working on that. We have a long time to work everything out,” Tweek disclosed. Wendy nodded.

“Yeah, that makes sense. He might be hot but he also is a dick, to like, everyone but you,” Wendy said. Willow nodded in agreement.

“Wait, that’s my boyfriend! He’s hot but he’s mine. Back off, girlfriend,” Tweek joked. Willow laughed.

“It’s true though, both parts. He is pretty attractive but he seemed to at best tolerate his friends, or downright insult them. He treated me and Jimmy the same and made fun of Clyde constantly. But for you, he makes almost every exception. He’s welcome to touch, sweet words, and emotions. From what I’ve heard, he didn’t even feel emotions. However when I went to get help him and when I gave him the couple’s counselling slip, he actually showed something,” Willow explained. Tweek fidgeted with his hair using his free hand, which had yet to be painted.

“I mean, he does help me get a hold of myself pretty often but sometimes he makes it worse but it’s not like he’s trying, it just happens,” Tweek explained, “Wendy, do you remember when President Garrison made all those tweets about me being this person I’m not and making North Korea hate me?” It took Wendy a few moments of visible confusion to process what he had said.

“That week with the distracted driving and suicide awareness things going on?” she clarified. 

“Yeah, but Craig tried to help me by explaining away my feelings, and we got in a fight. It made me so stressed I skipped school, and I felt terrible until he came home after school and-”

“Wait, did you say came home? Like you two live together? That’s so cute!” Wendy said excitedly. Tweek quickly waved his hands like he could dismiss the words.

“No! No, okay, maybe we basically live together, I go to his house all the time because it’s nice there and he comes over to calm me down or help me but we don’t live together!” Tweek rambled, “I’m going to finish my story. So, he came to my house, and he didn’t try to reason away any of my feelings he just listened. It was nice.”

“That’s what a healthy couple would do,” Willow stated.

“They are a healthy couple,” Wendy retorted half-jokingly.

“I know, healthier than half the married couples I’ve seen here.”

“Yeah, and I never got thanked for showing the school Yaoi art, which got you a boyfriend Tweek.” He felt the tips of his ears heat up. Yeah, that’s how they started fake-dating, and then real dating, but it was also incredibly embarrassing for art of him and Craig to be all over the town.

“That was so embarrassing, it forced me to come out! Craig didn’t even acknowledge how he felt back then, he just decided to ignore it because he felt like he’d be rejected by his friends and family and then he was basically forced into a relationship with me and his dad didn’t accept him at first and our relationship was fake at first and-” Tweek started spilling everything out, his breathing becoming irregular as he talked. His fingers tangled in his hair and he tugged lightly before someone else pulled his hand away from his hair and put it on the ground.

“Tweek, it’s okay. Take deep breaths,” Willow guided. Wendy squeezed his palm on the hand she was about finished with the paint on. He focused on their touch and slowly calmed down.

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to whisper.

“You’re welcome. I understand it’s okay,” Willow assured.

“How did you know how to help me?” he asked.

“Before I got prescribed medications, that’s how my best friend would calm me down.”

“You know, it kind of sucks that touch helps me calm down,” Tweek admitted, “Craig isn’t with me twenty-four seven, and most guys aren’t really into touching. They think it’s gay, it’s just not something they do.”

“That’s one thing us girls have over guys. We’re always touching each other because it’s not gay, it’s how we show we love each other. Tweek, as head of the council of girls, I welcome you to be treated as we treat each other. That means comfort touches,” Wendy declared. Tweek blinked a few times.

“There’s a council of girls?”

“Of course, we’re organised, unlike most of the boys. Sisterhood is no joke,” Wendy said.

“Okay, that makes sense. But you’re the head of them?”

“Yes, Willow is my aid because some of the girls are still sceptical of her, which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. She’s as much a girl as any other member of the council,” Wendy mumbled bitterly. She then let Tweek’s hand go and took his other one. “Don’t fiddle with anything, it’ll ruin the polish. You can move it as soon as I’m done this one. Don’t listen to me and I’ll duct tape your hand so you can’t move it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Willow, we’ll do your makeup after we’re done Tweek’s nails.”

-

Tweek often had trouble sleeping, in fact, he rarely slept more than an hour at a time. He could only sleep with Craig with him. He was left just staring at the wall, looking at every little detail that the beam on moonlight highlighted. The sound of partying, cars, and the quiet breathing in the room were all he heard.

He turned to face the bed so he could look out the window and found his view partially blocked by a body. Willow was sitting up, staring out the window herself. Her knees were pulled up to her chest. The soft glow of the moon reflected off jer face and highlighted some silent tears that were rolling down her cheek.

“Willow?” he asked quietly. She turned to face him and immediately wiped her eyes.

“Tweek. I thought you were asleep,” she whispered.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Oh.” She slid out of the bed to sit on the floor, looking back to make sure that she hadn’t woken Wendy up. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink all that coffee.”

“No.”

They sat awkwardly, wanting to speak and try to connect to each other and show their understanding of each other. Tweek decided to take the initiative.

“I understand how you feel. About your parents, I mean,” Tweek said.

“No, you don’t,” she spat, “but I appreciate it. Our families are different. You haven’t seen mine. I haven’t seen yours. But I think you’re right. Our families are terrible.” Tweek was taken aback by the venom in her voice. It wasn’t directed at him, but directed at the world.

“I want to understand how people treat you because I think we could be good friends. I just don’t want to say anything wrong. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I understand what it’s like being trans.”

“You’re smart and kind. We’ll talk about it sometime. We are similar, aren’t we.” Tweek grinned slightly

“Yeah, we are.” Willow silently got up and walked towards Tweek, pulling him into a hug. “You’re a good person, Tweek. Craig is lucky to have you. Stay you, no matter what. Stay you.” She got up and returned to the bed, slipping back under the covers. 

Tweek turned back to face the wall. Maybe it would be nice to have another friend, someone to go to when Craig was unavailable or to just hang out with. 

The sleepover wasn’t terrible in the end.