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weemsfreak · 2 months ago

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Reblogging this for pride month!! 🌈

The Only One

Hi ya'll, happy pride month!!

Sorry for being mia, I have been quite busy with school and also working on this (slowly) all of June. I was unsure of the vibes I wanted this story to give, as I have been feeling confused(?) as of late, and for some reason June has brought many feelings and a couple crap experiences that I wanted to incorporate into here. I did make the story hopeful toward the end, but I just wanted to say that if anyone feels this way, you are not alone!

Calling our Lesbian Headmistress to help make the confusing and lonely times a bit better with a pride event. I know not everybody likes to celebrate pride in this way, but I thought it was cute.

Larissa Weems x studentreader (platonic) ~4.6k words

Part of my 'All the Time' series, based on reader being a lesbian but struggles with her sexuality and falls for her straight friend (canon experience ;))

Warnings: partially closeted, mention of family not understanding, self reflection (internalized homophobia/being proud)

༻༺

Nobody ever talks about how lonely it is, being queer in a small town.

The lack of representation, of places to go, and people to meet. The sliver of hope that you will feel safe if you decide to venture, if you decide to try.

Her with him and him with her and 'girl crush' this and 'man crush' that.

But all in all, you thought that perhaps the worst of it all was the feeling of being the only one.

You listen to songs that describe other places, places you wish your mother would tell you to go.

You know she wants you to stay, but you can't ignore the crazy visions of you in…well, somewhere that perhaps doesn't exist- or maybe it does.

Somewhere a different version of yourself could live; hopeful, happy, proud.

Your favorite movie, which makes you feel accepted, alive, is less than ten years old, even though you're a fan of old classic Hollywood.

You don't see yourself in them.

Many times before, you've heard people say 'it would be so much easier to be gay.'

They must've been joking, of course; but being gay was not a joke.

They joke about being gay but they've never wondered if their family would still love them.

They joke about being gay but they've never been scared of their friends abandoning them and talking behind their back.

They joke about being gay but they've never rejected a man with the reason of being interested in women, just for the man to ask if it's the truth, 'they could turn you', so they say.

They joke about being gay but they've never been the quiet one when others talked about boys.

They joke about being gay but they've never felt like they were disrespecting women because they found them attractive.

They joke about being gay but they've never been the outcast.

They joke about being gay but they've never worried about their loved ones not attending their wedding.

They joke about being gay but they've never pretended to like men to try and fit in with their peers.

They joke about being gay but they've never had nobody to talk to.

They joke about being gay but they've never had nobody to cry to.

They joke about being gay but they've never wished they were a boy, for the sole reason of a woman liking them back.

They joke about being gay but they've never had to love somebody in secret.

They joke about being gay but they'll never know what it feels like.

As bad as you felt, through the loneliness, the grief, the 'what ifs' and the doubt, it wasn't the fact of being queer that scared you, it wasn't that you weren't open, or accepting.

What did hurt though, was what came with it.

The fear of never finding someone, the fear of being rejected and harmed in public, the fear of never understanding how you really felt; the fear of feeling too deeply.

There have been times where you almost, almost, decided to leave it be.

'In another life' you said, shrugging your shoulders as a tear dripped down your cheek at the thought of faking it, and marrying a man.

But one day, you were reading a book dated from the 60s, when the realization hit you.

Years ago, regrettably not that many, you would not have the choice, you would not have the freedom.

And here you were, in the age of progression, hiding away in the land of heterosexuals.

You had a choice, you had freedom.

For the woman before you who were stuck in sham marriages, cried themselves to sleep, snuck around with another woman and feared for their life, for the women who raised children but not with whom they loved, for the women who had no such thing as freedom of choice.

You would not fake it, you would not hide, you would be your true self for them, and for you, regardless of the very possible fact that you could be the only queer in this small town.

༻༺

The headmistress stood outside of the chemistry classroom one gloomy morning, greeting students as they entered as your teacher always did.

You sauntered through the halls as you watched your peers and their modernistic and typical ways.

You weren't sure who's twisted idea it was, to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago…but you admired the sadism.

Opening your locker and retrieving your books, your sketchbook met the floor with an echo when a guy accidentally bumped into you.

"Oh crap, sorry Y/N"

You gave him a menacing look, before taking a breath and straightening yourself out.

"No worries."

His friend, who had shoved him into you, continued on to class as he spoke from down the hall. "C'mon man, leave the freak alone."

You expected him to continue on as well, but he didn't.

"How are things going?"

You'd likely be late for class if he kept the conversation up.

"A lot of this" you shrugged, pointing to your books.

"Yea, me too. The harvest festival is coming up though, I know you love the fall, and all things creepy."

You huffed in amusement, nodding your head.

"It’s nice to have things to look forward to."

He smiled and nodded, looking to his feet.

"Well, I'll see you there. Maybe I'll message you?"

You shook your head uninterested, not holding him to it.

"Sure."

Bending down to pick your sketchbook up off the floor, it was open to a doodle you had done which was rather, well, not appropriate for school.

Slamming your sketchbook shut, you stood and met your locker mirror; your own reflection, as well as the principals, smiling back at you.

Jump scare.

"Good morning, darling."

You spun around in surprise, staring wide eyed.

"Principal Weems, good morning."

She nodded as she looked at you in amusement, hoping to hide her true thoughts about your morning interactions.

"Where is Ms. Currie?"

The principal tilted her head at you, "Out today. I was notified last minute, so I'm your substitute."

Well, it was your lucky day.

The principal never failed to notice your…disinterest.

She didn't fail to notice the way some students picked on you, nor your lack of emotion; your presence of indifference towards men.

She saw herself in you, you were just like her.

That thought brought her both joy and pain.

༻༺

Sitting in the quad, you nervously twisted your fingers as you watched your friend approach.

You had heard, apparently, that it was a 'cannon lesbian experience' to have a crush on your friend.

Man were they right, and man, did it hurt.

She sat with a smile, though you could see that her attention was diverted.

"Hi."

"Hey Mar."

You swallowed, looking her in the eye across the table.

"I um, I was thinking, the Rave 'N is soon, maybe we could go together…"

Just then, you watched Gannon make his way to the table and sit beside your friend.

She squealed lightly, pulling him closer to her.

"Y/N, did I tell you Gannon and I are going to the Rave 'N together?!"

Your heart dropped, but it wasn't anything new, it wasn't at all surprising.

For you knew your friend liked men, but you had thought that maybe, well, you didn’t know; maybe there was hope that someone could be like you.

"Oh, uh, congratulations."

Your heart panged as they looked into each others eyes, smiling in anticipation.

"So, what were you talking about?"

You shook your head and let out a weak chuckle, quickly thinking of an excuse.

"I um, I was thinking maybe we could get ready for the Rave'N together, that could be fun."

Marcella smiled as she stood, linking her arm with Gannon's.

"Sure! I'll see you later!"

The principal, who supervised lunch in the quad, watched your rejection with disappointment and regret.

It dug deep, it brought back memories of her own time at Nevermore; the hate and the heartbreak that she felt, that you felt.

Sometimes, things never changed.

'I don't know if I believe the way I feel is real

And I often wonder if it is

Watching your friend dance with a guy

And pondering whether it's what she truly wishes

Should you step in, or leave her be?

You know you wouldn’t wish it, but does she?

It hurts a bit, a little, a lot; watching her dance so close to him

And maybe she'd dance with you like that too

But not in this life, no, not now,

For she's dancing with him, and you watch from the crowd'

༻༺

You knew it wasn’t the fault of your own; the despair, the regret, the loneliness.

But, you couldn't help but feel it when you were alone, so utterly alone, regardless of the fact that you could be surrounded by people.

They'd never understand the feeling of being so outcast, ironically, the feeling of being so different. The feeling of being told that how you felt was somehow wrong.

You felt it, you felt it wholeheartedly; and how could your heart be wrong?

Your parents, who never meant any harm, contradicted themselves.

Honestly, you couldn't exactly say how, but it hurt in a way that you didn't understand.

You thought maybe they were smarter, more knowledgeable, perhaps wiser than you.

They had always said that you could talk to them, but it was useless, as any attempt made you feel worse, not better.

They had been on this earth for sometime, however, surely they must've experienced the hate, and transformed themselves to some degree?

Wishful thinking.

They could never be so open.

And you think, maybe that's what hurt the most; wishing they could understand, wishing they would care enough to understand.

Alas, wishing was useless.

There were nights where you prayed for an older, wiser being to cry to. Someone who could tell you what to do and how to feel, someone who would listen, someone who would care.

Someone who would see you. Someone who understood, because they felt it themself.

༻༺

You made every attempt to be true to yourself.

To not lie, to let yourself feel what you felt, to get out more; to live.

It was hard to be true to yourself, though, when your friends agreed to accompany you to a pride day in Jericho, and then ditched you.

You resented them, you envied them, they didn't know what it felt like; they never would.

The hurt multiplied ten fold when June came around. The hiding, the thinking, the loneliness, it didn't settle, it didn't stop.

After an hour of scrubbing off your makeup, crying face down into your bed, and ditching your themed outfit, you arrived in Jericho, the opening ceremony finished.

The town square was very festive, multiple restaurants and shops agreed to host a scavenger hunt, crafted special meals to celebrate, provide smaller fun activities, and fireworks. You were proud of the small town of Jericho, they were trying; as were you.

And although they were trying, these activities were not really fun to do, well…alone.

Alas, that's what you were. Alone.

Passing by the Weathervane, you saw a small group of Nevermore students on their way out. You wanted to join in, but you didn’t know them, not that well.

Peering over at the counter, you found a drink special for the day;

'buy any regular sized drink, get rainbow whipped cream for free.'

You snorted, it was rather cheesy, but cute.

Stepping up to the counter, you ordered an iced coffee.

"Would you like rainbow whipped cream on that?"

You sighed, about to shake your head no when you heard a voice at the other end of the counter.

"Thank you, dear. This looks delicious."

She was standing tall with a red lipped smile, peering down at her hot chocolate; rainbow whipped cream on top.

You had to agree, it did look delicious.

"Yes, uh, whipped cream please."

As soon as your drink was made, you beelined it for the door, hoping she wouldn't see you.

It wasn't that you didn’t want to see her, it wasn't that you didn’t want to talk.

It was that you didn’t want her to see you- alone.

Unsure of where to go next, you stood on the sidewalk and tried your drink; delicious.

The doorbell rang and she stepped out, gazing around the streets.

In a flash, you turned and headed down the sidewalk, away from the activities, away from her.

"Y/N?"

You stopped, slowly turning as if you were unsure of where the voice had come from.

A wave, a smile, and she was next to you in a few strides.

"Darling, you're going the wrong way, the festival is this way!"

She never failed to make you happy, her and her rainbow hot chocolate.

You shrugged, "I uh, I don't really want to participate."

Her head tiled in question as she caught sight of your drink.

"You're not interested in celebrating pride?"

Well, that just made you sound homophobic. You shook your head quickly.

"No, no I am. I just, my friends were supposed to come with me but, they changed their minds I guess."

The principal looked down at you, your head hung in sadness, perhaps shame.

Today was not a day to be sad, it was not a day to be shameful, it was a day to be proud, to celebrate.

"Well, I am here with a few Nevermore students. I am proud to support them, no matter who or what they are."

You couldn't help but smile crookedly in awe, meeting her appreciative blue gaze. She bent down closer to you, softening her voice. "That includes you, love."

Your heart beat fast as you stared in surprise, tears threatened to spill as you felt accepted and cared for, for the first time in a long time.

Taking a sip of your drink with a shaky hand, you fiddled with your jewellery.

The woman saw you thinking, contemplating.

She felt the exact same at your age. Knowing who you were, to an extent, but pushing the feeling away with every chance you got.

You didn’t want to, she knew, you wanted to be proud, she knew, but it was hard when you felt like the only one, the only one in this small town.

"How about we try the scavenger hunt, hmm?"

You looked up at her with a frown, but inside you felt joyful.

"We're probably already behind" you chuckled.

The woman waved a hand in dismissal, "Nonsense. We have a good chance if we work together."

༻༺

You made your way back into the Weathervane, retrieving the first clue to the hunt.

'If the first pride flag was designed in Jericho, it would've been designed here.'

You passed the first clue to her, knowing the first pride flag was designed in 1978. If it had have been designed in Jericho, well, you had three options.

The woman smiled, gasping lightly as she recalled "'Sew it forward', it was established here in the 1960s."

༻༺

You followed the intriguing woman to 'Sew it forward', watching as she retrieved the second clue and stamped the pride book red.

She took the clue between her fingers, narrowing her eyes at the small writing.

'This famous bar in New York City was the site of the 1969 riots, a pivotal event in LGBTQ+ history. Find the Jericho bar that starts with the same letter.'

You racked your brain around the bars in Jericho. You have never been to the bars besides for lunch.

"Stones!"

The principal raised a brow at you, a small smirk on her face.

"What?! Just because I'm not of age doesn’t mean I haven't been. Stones has good pizza."

A loud laugh was heard throughout the fabric shop. You were overjoyed that you could make her laugh freely, albeit most likely sounding stupid.

She headed for the door; and you would follow her anywhere.

༻༺

Arriving at Stones, you found those also attempting the hunt, and those drowning in drinks.

You stamped the book with the second stamp, orange, and retrieved the third clue.

'Locate a pin or item that displays personal pronouns or sexual orientation, both important ways to respect people's identities.'

Leading the way out into the street, you looked around.

You didn’t remember seeing a shop with a prominent pin or badge.

"A pin or badge."

You looked up at the tall woman, her eyebrows furrowed in question.

Raking your eyes over her form, you found a brooch on her jacket, one you knew she wore often.

Lips.

"Where did you get that brooch?"

She peered down at her brooch, straightening it out as a light blush overtook her cheeks.

"Oh, my brooch. I got it at the antique shop, Uriah's Heap."

Uriah's Heap, a shop so very, well, out of the ordinary.

It was your favorite.

You stared at her for a moment hoping she would catch on, until her eyes widened in excitement.

"Let's go!" she smiled, grabbing your hand as she drug you to the shop.

༻༺

You stood outside of Uriah's Heap, finding a large progressive pride flag pin on their window.

You knew this was a scavenger hunt, a race of some sort, but you always loved searching for hidden treasures in the shop that many people didn’t appreciate.

Following the principal, she found her way to the antique jewelry.

Choosing a vintage locket, you placed it on the counter and found a basket of pins staring back at you.

"Hello, did you find something of interest?"

The woman, who you remembered enjoyed chaga tea after working here on outreach day, peered down at you.

"Yes, may I purchase this?"

Peering over at the tall woman, she held a brooch up to you.

"Do you think this is nice, darling?"

A brooch which you thought resembled an eye. Very fitting for the principal and her unique look.

"It's beautiful, it matches your bracelet."

She smiled gratefully down at you, placing it on the counter.

"You are very perceptive" she remarked.

The lady rang up both items, the principal speaking up.

"Oh, I'll purchase that separate."

You shook your head at her with a sly smile, "I got it Principal Weems."

After purchasing your items, the principal retrieved the fourth clue and stamped the book yellow.

'What LGBTQ+ novel, written by Sheridan Le Fanu, preceded Dracula?'

You had read this book recently, an easy clue, really.

"Carmilla"

The woman looked down at you in surprise, nodding her head.

"Great novel, absolutely the best. I'm proud" she winked.

You smiled, gaze landing on the floor bashfully before peering back over at the pins in the basket.

The woman noticed and sorted through them. "Hmm, so many options. Would you like one?"

You watched as she held them in her hands to you, every option they had available.

There were so many colors, so many flags and pronouns.

You hummed and hawed over them, knowing which you wanted to chose, but still unsure.

"Well, I think I like this one."

The principal chose one; red, orange, white and pink stripes staring back at you.

Your mouth opened in shock as you watched her pin it to her jacket.

She smiled mischievously, "What's the matter, darling?"

The lesbian flag, something you didn't see often included in pride merchandise.

"I, uh, are you…" you stuttered.

The woman chuckled, straightening out the pin. "A lesbian?"

You nodded speechless as you stared up at her, thrill running through your veins.

She clasped her hands together and gave one nod, a bright smile as she batted her eyelashes your way.

Her support, her happiness, the confidence that she had, it made you want to cry.

You were so, so happy for her, you were so very proud.

Proud of her for her openness, proud of her for her representation, proud of her for being her true self, and for showing others that it was okay to be gay.

Grateful for her bravery, to show others that they were not alone.

You took a deep breath, "Can I have the same one?"

She dug through the pins, finding the very same flag and holding it out to you, "May I?"

You nodded, presenting your jacket to her.

She pinned in on, running a hand soothingly over your arm.

"I'm so very proud of you, darling."

You breathed in heavily, taking in her sincere and caring smile before meeting her gaze.

"I'm proud of you too, Principal Weems. And I'm so happy for you, thank you."

It was all the principal had wished for on this day, to help at least one person through their journey. To help you present yourself, to help you feel like you deserved to be seen, to help you feel proud.

"Of course, love. Now, where can we find the novel 'Carmilla'?"

Well, the library or bookstore, of course. But, you took a bet that Carmilla may not be at the library, so you headed to the bookstore.

༻

5. Crow bookshop

You retrieved the second last clue, stamping the book green.

'Locate the basket prepared for a festive outdoor meal, filled with colorful snacks and drinks. Perfect for a celebration under the open sky.'

The principal looked down at you in contemplation. "The Basket, like the restaurant?"

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure of where else they would be referring to.

༻༺

You arrived at 'The Basket', a restaurant just before the beach.

There were a few specials, a fruit basket, a flight of ciders, and a flight of sliders.

You knew the principal was a fan of burgers.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall woman looked down at you, smiling as she read over the special.

"Chipotle, Bacon and cheese, Veggie, Bean, Texas, and Chicken sliders. Would you like to share?"

You looked over the menu, rereading what she had just rhymed off.

Nodding, you asked, "What's a flight?"

She chuckled, ordering the special for you both.

"You're about to find out."

Sitting at a table on the back patio, you settled down across from the principal.

A moment silence, you looked her up and down, questioning many things.

An older, wiser being. A beautiful one who appeared to be pretty open, who seemed like she'd understand, who seemed like she cared.

"How did you know that you liked women and not men?"

The woman raised her gaze to you, lips stretching into a sad smile.

She took a deep breath and smoothed a napkin over her lap.

"Well, when I was your age, this small town was all that I knew, just like you.

I knew that I didn't feel the same as my peers, I never cared to talk about boys, I never really fit in in the way that I hoped to.

One day I realized that I wouldn't at all mind kissing my friend, in fact I longed to" she chuckled. "Representation was lacking, but what little of it there was, it helped me realize how I felt as I grew. It's hard to accept yourself, for many reasons, but when you try to push it away, it doesn't get any better, it never changes."

Your voice was hoarse as you asked in confirmation. "It never changes?"

She shook her head, "It never changes. You have to decide for yourself.

Do whatever makes you happy, feel whatever makes you happy, no matter how different it is, no matter how alone you may feel."

You pursed your lips as tears built in your eyes, she was right, of course she was.

"Well, it helps knowing I'm not the only one."

The woman nodded her head in agreement, wallowing over the memories of her feeling alone, of her heartbreakingly coming to the realization of how she truly felt, of who she really was.

It brought her sadness, to know that others felt the same; perhaps even worse.

"The journey is not an easy one, it's not for the weak. You have to know that you're strong, and you're worthy, always."

The sliders were placed on your table, averting her attention.

She carefully cut them all in half, holding up a piece of the bacon and cheese as she offered the rest to you.

"Bon appétit."

The principal stamped the book blue and picked up the last clue.

'"At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon." What establishment is named after this poet?'

She looked down at you with a finger pointed your way.

You scrunched your eyebrows, Edgar Allan Poe.

The only establishment could be, "The Poe!"

You and the principal laughed, shouting the answer at the same time.

༻༺

You headed to The Poe, a small museum and shop on the beach that sold trinkets, drinks, and ice cream.

Principal Weems stamped the last page purple, turning in the scavenger hunt book to the shop.

"Well, congratulations! You were fifth to finish the scavenger hunt."

You laughed, fifth place.

The tall woman smiled down at you with a wink, "We're losers."

You both were, in fact, losers.

After collecting your prizes and ordering ice cream, which the principal insisted on, you made your way to a bench on the beach.

You watched the woman with great interest. An intelligent, interesting woman she was. A powerful, selfless woman. A perceptive woman, a force to be reckoned with.

You hoped and prayed that you would grow up to be at least half the person that she was.

The principal caught your interest with a low chuckle.

"I'm having lots of fun with you, love, but I'm sorry you had to spend the day with your principal."

You tilted your head in confusion; you were not sorry, not one bit.

"I'm not sorry. Today was the best day I've had in awhile. Thank you."

The woman pouted, opening her arms to you; you gladly embraced her.

With a deep breath you pulled away, placing your hand in her soft reassuring one.

"So what happened with your friend? The one you wanted to kiss?"

The principal chuckled remorsefully. "Nothing."

Looking out over the water, her smile turned to a frown.

"I wanted to hold her, to protect her from men with all the fury I had grown.

They don't see her beauty like I do, they don't care to.

But unfortunately, it's the same old story."

She turned to you with sad eyes.

"A girl cries over a girl and that girl cries over a guy, and well…

it goes on and on and on,

and it doesn't stop.

It never stops."

You were just like her, perhaps there was hope for you.

Just then, fireworks lit up the darkness of the beach. All colors of the spectrum were on display, but all you saw was red, orange, white, and pink.

Your attention was then diverted to a girl wearing a Nevermore uniform as she made her way to you.

She waved, "Hi Principal Weems."

She then looked to you. "Hi Y/N"

She spoke with the principal as you analyzed her. You recognized her, but you didn't know her name, so how did she know yours?

The girl's eyes landed on you once again, meeting your gaze. You didn't want to ask.

"Aura, I like your pin." A sly tone to the older woman's voice.

You followed the principals gaze to the pin on Aura's jacket, then you peered down at the pin attached to yours.

"Thanks Principal Weems" she smiled, eyes slowly trailing to the woman's pin, then to yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and Aura's raised in surprise.

"Oh, we all have the same pin!"

The principal chuckled, gazing down at you with a bright smile.

"See darling, you're never alone. I promise you're not the only one."

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