Ovrthinkit

|20| ~Just using this to let out stuff whether that be rants, fics or other stuff~ Also Wattpad : @Venus_flytrpp AO3 : Venusflytrpp

[venusflytrpp]

Master list ——————————

ELITE

REBEKA

I’m okay Gif #1

Favourite part (Soon)

CARLA Gif #1 Gif #2

Dear anonymous pt2

Favourite part (Soon)

LUCRECIA

The way you felt

Favourite part (Soon)

WOSO (coming soon)

ENG NAT

BRONZEY

robin hood (soon)

RUSSO

neptune (soon)

WILLIAMSON

falling asleep at the wheel (soon)

[venusflytrpp]

Not saying i'll post it but since the lucrecia fic is the one that's done the best I've suddenly had a wave of inspiration and suddenly started writing a part two and i was wondering if I did finish it would you guys want to end up Rebeka or Lucrecia ?

[what-iz-life]

Being an “understanding person” is the worst kind of thing. i repeat worst. you have to understand people’s situations, their problems, their traumas. but when it comes to you, you will scream alone. absolutely alone.

[iwantsweetrevenge]

people see news of 200+ palestinians being killed in one attack and scroll or think about it for about a minute then move on. but if 200+ people died in an attack in the west it would be mainstream news and all people spoke about for weeks. i know the numbers of palestinians being killed are astronomical and its impossible to keep up (which is absolutely sickeningly horrifying, there are no words), but the lack of value placed in palestinians lives and disregard shown is insane

[lonniemachin]

List of Palestinian Evacuation Fundraisers

Last Update: 05/06/2024

All fundraisers have been looked into by me or vetted by others. If anyone notices issues in validity with any of the fundraisers listed please let me know. Funding updates daily!

Fadi Al-Sharif and family ($10,439/$62,500 goal)

Hayam Taha and family (€8,718/€30,000 goal)

Deyaa and family (€7,764/€20,000 goal)

Fatima Alshanti (kr5,085 SEK/kr150,000 goal)

Shahed Ghazi and family ($6,776 CAD/$94,838 goal)

Little Yusuf and family (€5,960/€85,000 goal)

Sara & Huda Hajjaj and family ($240/$15,000 goal)

Mohammed JH Shamia's family (kr20,168 SEK/kr250,000 goal)

Maram Ahmed and family (€1,032/€30,000 goal)

Hamza Almofty and family ($3,772/$35,000 goal)

Mahmoud Jomaa (€400/€10,000 goal)

Dr. Mohammed Shara ($445/$20,000 goal)

Abdulrahman Alshanti and family (kr137,402 SEK/kr350,000 goal)

Besan Almabhouh's family (€5,767/€25,000 goal)

Said Tanani and brothers (€30,935/€50,000 goal)

Donia Tanani and family (€67,538/€100,000 goal)

Hussein Shamiya, his pregnant wife, and son ($8,042/$40,000 goal)

Mohammed Shamia and family ($15,020/$35,000 goal)

Amro Bakr & kids Bakir and Tala (€1,772/€15,000 goal)

Almadhoun family ($18,365/$80,000 goal)

Child Mohammed (€6,420/€10,000 goal)

Sana'a and family (£19,668/£50,000 goal)

Noha Ayyad and family ($23,050/$95,160 goal)

Nazmi Mwafi and family ($5,151/65,000 goal)

Ibrahim Almofty and family ($535/$40,000)

Hamdi Hejazi and family ($10,236/$25,000)

Mohammed and family ($7,620/$25,000)

[lonniemachin]

Many of the families that have reached out to me, families on this list, are in Rafah or have family members in Rafah. It is imperative and EXTREMELY urgent we fill these fundraisers as swiftly as possible, the IOF is planning to invade any day. Please, I urge you, to donate whatever you can. People’s lives are at stake.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

i’m not ready for sandra to leave :(

me neither 😔

[venusflytrpp]

🥲my fave

[tallest-tiptoes]

this episode was good, great even. then it turned sour really fast.

[sytoran-deactivated20250117]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.

word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

You slept like the dead.

Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber. 

Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.

It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.

“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.

Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen. 

“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.

Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.

Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.

The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.

“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.

When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense. 

You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Mama! Mommy!” 

The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension. 

Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.

“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.

“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow. 

Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”

You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy. 

Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.

“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.

Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear. 

Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.

“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”

At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches. 

“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table. 

You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.

“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.

The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again. 

“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”

The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. 

Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.

With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss. 

“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”

Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.

“I love you too.”

*****

The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.

Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.

“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.

“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.

Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”

You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.

Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.

“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”

Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.

Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.

***

“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”

“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!” 

The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.

“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”

“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”

Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”

“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”

Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now. 

You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.

“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”

Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.

You, indeed, were hard.

Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.

The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.

Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.

The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed. 

Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.

Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.

“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?” 

In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.

“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”

“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.

“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”

***

“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”

Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.

After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.

“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.

Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.

“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.

A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.

“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.

The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you. 

“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.

Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you. 

She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.

“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.

“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife. 

Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.

Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.

“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.

The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.

You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.

Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.

Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.

“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again. 

You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.

“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.

“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”

Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.

She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”

“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”

so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh

reblog or no more milf!nat

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[venusflytrpp]

Dear Anonymous - Carla Roson (Pt 2)

Warnings : loss of a parent, spicy but not spicy towards the end

(Reader is a female has and has two dads: Father(Demitru) and Dad(Michael))

Later that week your dad returned home from tour gathering you and all the staff downstairs to declare that your father’s funeral was next week Wednesday. So with today being Sunday, your dad hadn’t even given you a week's notice let alone pull you aside and tell you separately. 

You had all the respect in the world for the staff that had practically raised you but you are his daughter. Doesn't that mean something? Weren’t you meant to be a part of the planning, helping to commemorate the life of your father.

You’d already escaped to Carla’s house three times that week after hearing of your dad’s impending arrival and once on the day of his arrival not quite ready to see him. So you didn't want to turn up at her house again, afraid you were becoming a burden. But this was unbelievable almost as if the minute your father wasn't around your dad forgot you existed. 

Just as you're getting ready to leave the room your dad calls out your name beckoning you to follow him into the home office.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that during the procession you’ll be walking behind me with your aunts and uncles.”

“Why aren't I walking next to you ?” you ask incredulously  

“Well, I already have to hold your fathers portrait and that should be front and centre. Don’t you think so ?” You couldn’t argue with him there but it was what he said next that confirmed your prior assumptions.

“Wouldn't want everyone to be distracted comparing the two of you” If your dad had stopped at his previous statement then you would have been fine but adding the second part just confirmed that your Dad hated the resemblance you had to your father. 

“Are you serious right now ?” 

“What, I’m not wrong it got brought up every time you two went anywhere together”

“Yeah, maybe because i’m his fucking daughter” You practically shouted, frustrated at his blatant insensitivity. 

“Y/n M/n Caregula, You will not raise your voice at me as you’re my daughter as well” He shouts back, clearly offended by your choice of words.

“Well, you don’t act like it. You haven't acted like it at all since he died'' You retaliate, finally getting the chance to confront your dad on his recent behaviour. 

He goes quiet for a moment, face dropping as soon as the words leave your lips. 

“Y/n I don’t owe you any explanations, you know this is a hard time for me.” 

Hot tears start streaming down your face as you whisper “It’s just as hard for me, I just want you to talk to me like when I was little. When I fell in the playground at lunch and after school you sat me down and talked about how pain works, how it may hurt currently but it gets better. When our dog, Diesel, died and you both talked to me about grief, how he’d gone to a better place where he’ll never feel pain or suffering ever again.”

“I’m just asking for you to be my dad again, why can’t you see that ?” Your voice breaks on the last few words, turning around to leave study you sob “I just want my Parents back” 

—-

The day of the funeral arrives and you haven't spoken to anyone since that Sunday in the office with your dad. Carla and Rebeka had tried reaching out to you after they heard about the funeral date but no answer came from you. 

A staff member comes into your room to lay your suit on the table, as you stand up to take a look at it you notice that it’s one of your fathers tailored to your dimensions. Goosebumps rise along your skin as you pick up the suit holding it up  to your body in the mirror. 

You barely last a few seconds before you crumble to the floor clutching the suit in your hands. 

A knock at the door comes unnoticed to you as the door opens and Carla walks in shutting the door behind her. Greeted by the sight of you huddled up in a ball, a suit clutched to your chest. Heavy sobs leaving your mouth, a sign of an oncoming panic attack. 

She moves in front of you blocking the mirror. Clutching your shoulders to lift you into a seated position.

“Y/n” she speaks, your eyes snapping to hers “Y/n I need you too breath” 

You almost feel like rolling your eyes at her as if it was that easy. But sensing the eye roll, she glares at you bringing you back to reality. Holding her stare, you begin to follow her breaths slowing down the pace of your chest. 

After a while all that escapes your mouth is “It's his suit” 

Carla’s mouth slightly opens to acknowledge this but it shuts just as fast as she rises to her feet pulling you up with her. 

“Let’s get it on you then, we’re getting through this bit by bit.”

—

“You can turn around now” you rasp out, your throat raw from the minimal amount of talking you’d been doing. 

Carla feels bad for admiring the way the suit fits on you, having to draw her eyes away from the way the sleeves hug your arms. A slight smirk arises from you about to comment on her wandering eyes but just as you were about to, your eyes catch the mirror. 

You take a breath about to speak but once again no words are found. 

Once again sensing your panic, Carla moves to stand fully in front of the mirror. Blocking it with her body, she tips your head down to make eye contact with you. 

“You look great, you don't need the mirror to tell you that. Now we are going to walk out of here, I'll walk you to the funeral car and I'll meet you at the church”  She slowly tells you, making sure that you pay attention to her words.

You give her a weak nod still unable to speak.

She takes your hand like she did in the school bathroom and leads you out of your room, down the stairs and out the front door to the awaiting car. You can see your dad already waiting inside of the car jogging his foot, clearly impatient that you made him wait. 

The chauffeur opens the door and Carla goes to let go of your hand allowing you to get in but you desperately grab at her arm.

“Can you come with me?“ Your face, her eyes begging her. 

She goes to answer you but a voice comes from the car

“Y/n get in now, we’re going to be late” Your dad interrupts 

“Carla please…” You ask again, ignoring him

“Y/n, NOW! Leave the girl we have to go” He raises his voice causing Carla to move her arm from your grip and step back allowing you more room to get in the car. 

That seems to have answered your question as your eyes slightly begin to water and you get in the car. 

Just before the door shuts Carla shouts.

“I’ll see you at the church Y/n/n”

—

Carla stays true to her word as during the procession you are able to spot her on the sidelines making eye contact several times. Your Dad in front and father’s siblings on your sides slightly shield you from sight but you can still make her out.

The funeral is extravagant and dragged out as per your dad's request. With a few words from him, your fathers family members and friends. You’ve become so numb that you don’t even react to the fact that your dad never asked you to speak, just add it to the list of things he’s done. The church part of the service ends with your Dad redirecting everyone back to the house for a continuation of the service. He ushers you back to the car alongside him before you have any time to look around for Carla or even Rebeka at this point. 

Enduring the evening of sorrowful looks and condolences it gets to a point when your Dad announces a song that he wrote dedicated to his husband.

Only the second he starts the first chord you recognise the song. 

He was playing your song. 

During music class with your tone deaf teacher, Mr Riba, he urged you to convey your feelings in a song. Though it was honestly the last thing you wanted to do, opting to curl up in a ball and cry. A few days later you’d done it anyway and you gave it to him as an audio file, causing him to rave and praise your talent comparing you to your dad. 

You don’t have any idea as to how Michael got his hands on it but you can't imagine it took much effort as he glances at you with a soft smile on his face as if he’s comforting you. Of course to anyone else it would look this way but the knife in your back just twists.

He nears the end of the song and as if this day could get any worse for you, you overhear one of your aunts whisper to someone you’ve never met before.

“You know, Dimetru was on that plane to make it back for Y/n’s school concert. Imagine if he'd never gotten on that plane.” 

“It's a shame she didn’t do anything to commemorate him” They whisper back.

The pin finally drops for you. 

Michael is done with ‘his’ commemorative song and he reaches out for your hand as you can tell he's bringing the service to an end but you don't move. Your eyes fixed on the door and the heavy rain, you can only think one thing. 

Run. 

So you do.

Ignoring Michael's calls from behind you reach the door slamming it open startling everyone in the room. You're pretty sure the glass on the door broke with the force but you can't bring yourself to care.  

The heavy rain pours drenching the suit and plastering your hair to your forehead as you keep moving, each rapid footstep causing discomfort to ripple through your body. Your destination in mind just causes you to push harder, chest screaming out in anguish causing you to reach a hand out to clutch at it.

By the time you've made it to the school and up the many stairs that you struggled your way up, you collapse on the roof. Your body giving up under the amount of strain that you put it under, willing yourself to move just a bit further you move towards the edge, legs hanging over, upper body laid down. As if your final act, your hand moves up to grasp at the tie, loosening it, finally attempting to get some substantial air in your lungs.

—

You’ve been laid there for what seems like hours but it's only been a few minutes when the roof door opens. Your head doesn’t turn knowing it wouldn't be long before someone came to find you. Your eyebrows only raise in suspicion at Carla’s face hanging over yours, although upside down. The umbrella perched over her head momentarily shields you from the rain. 

“You made quite a scene back there” She discloses, moving to sit by you. Further away from the edge. “Made it easier for me to slip away though” Carla adds with a grin.

You don’t move in the slightest, the numbing feeling from earlier reintroducing itself. Despite her efforts to cheer you up. 

“That was your song back there wasn’t it?” Still nothing from you “It was, I don’t know why i bothered asking, surprised he took it though surely as the world renowned musician he is he could have written something himself?”

Nothing yet again 

“This silence thing you're doing is kinda getting old, you know I wouldn't do this for anyone right? I’m pretty sure my dads figured out I'm not there by now since I took the car.”

“Why are you here ?” The question leaves your lips almost offending her. Almost.

“In all honesty…no lo se” She replies “I’ve been here the last few days doesn’t seem right to stop now.” 

This causes you to sit up turning your face to look at her, makeup untouched and dress undrenched. You on the other hand look a mess, finally getting a proper look at you she sees your cheeks covered in a light sheen, raindrops lingering on your eyelashes, eyes sunken in clearly showing how tired you were.

“You look like shit” She blurts out. You let out a quiet snort at this slowly morphing into a full blown laugh as your head nods in agreement. 

“I’m sure I do!” You exclaim trying to calm down, but it just gets harder as she joins in laughing just as hard. 

“I’m sorry” she says as your laughter calms down.

“Me too” Is all you say back. Confusing Carla as it doesn't seem like you have anything to apologise for.

“I'm sorry that my face is so similar to my dead fathers that Michael can't even bare to look at it” Your laughter slightly resumes but Carla ceases completely.

“I’m sorry that my father felt the need to get on a plane to see his fucking daughter. I’m sorry that I didn’t take a bigger role in a funeral that i didn’t know was going to happen until four fucking days ago” Your laughter becomes hysterical as you start swaying on the edge. Starting to scare Carla by how much closer you're getting to fall off.

“Y/n…” she speaks softly 

“You, know I always thought I had the best parents growing up turns out ones dead and the other one was just bearing with my presence for the dead one” 

“Y/n.” She speaks firmer than before trying to call you toward her. 

“Never thought this is how I'd find out, the guy who dedicated his songs to his family, taught me to play my instruments, helped me back to sleep after a bad dream. It was all for show wasn’t it? I’m supposed to be focused on the fact that DIMETRU IS FUCKING DEAD” you scream the last part trying to block Michael from your mind.

That last shout makes you lose balance causing you to fall forward when the sound of something hitting the floor and a sharp tug at the back of your blazer jolts you into action. Getting a handle on the edge you propel yourself backwards further onto the roof. By doing this you accidentally take Carla down with you causing her to slip but you catch her before her head hits the ground. 

“You idiot!” She gasps out moving to sit fully in your lap, ear pressed against your hard breathing chest. Hands gripping at your back seemingly wanting you as close as possible. 

“I…I’m sorry” You really mean this one. Taken aback by the sudden influx of affection she’s showing you, speaking into her hair “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Whatever maldito idiota” Her voice comes out muffled against your chest “Never again” 

“Never again” You repeat. You press a light kiss to her forehead, causing her head to raise out of your chest, eyes staring directly into yours. “Sorry… it just felt like the right time.” 

“Stop apologising” she replies, eyes still holding eye contact.

Her nose brushes over yours, leaning in further she slowly closes the distance, testing the waters.

“This may not be the best moment but…Carla can I kiss you ?” You ask feeling the need to ask 

She rolls her eyes breaking eye contact but moving in again whispering against your lips 

“Si”

Your lips meet hers with a deep desperation. Lips crashing together hungry and insistent to keep going. Her hands move your hands from her upper back to her lower back, moving her hands back to grip at your neck pulling you closer, if that was even possible. 

Your hands start to grip harder, moving to her hips massaging slightly. Desperate for the world to fade and leave just the both of you in this new found passion. Breathes deep and ragged, your lips and tongues meet over and over again, hearts hammering against your chests seemingly in sync. 

She slowly pulls away causing you to whimper slightly and a smirk graces her lips. She knew you wanted more and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want more too. But she has to remind herself that although this confirmed you returned the feelings she did, you weren't currently in the right state of mind. 

Not wanting to dampen your mood all she says is. 

“This stays between us Y/n” You nod quickly wanting to feel her lips again but she moves back at your advance causing you to groan. “I need to hear you say it Y/n” 

“This stays between us” You reply, voice raspy and spent from the effect of a long day.

Too bad the paparazzi that had caught wind of your breakdown had other plans.

AN: part two! I think it’s alright but open to ideas for this series I think maybe two more parts then I can write for others

Also elite season 7! I kinda think it should have ended earlier at most when Samuel died but 🤷‍♂️.

[venusflytrpp]

Dear anonymous - Carla Roson

Warnings ❌: loss of a parent, slight blood injuries… I think that’s it 🤷‍♂️

(Reader is a female has and has two dads: Father(Demitru) and Dad(Michael) )

You met Carla at one of the lowest moments of your life.

The only child of a well renowned musician, so the media was constantly breathing down your neck. On top of that your father had died less than a month ago and your dad, rather than sit you down and talk about it, continued his world tour. Telling the media that it was the best way to honour his memory rather than take time to himself.

But you’d come to the conclusion that seeing you was a reminder of him, too painful for you dad to come home to a resemblance of the man that he loved. You had your fathers eyes so you couldn't blame him because you’d suffered the pain every time you looked in a mirror and saw HIM.

Funnily enough it was during one of your breakdowns in the bathroom that Carla found you. Huddled up in the bathroom fists clenched to your chest and the main mirror broken in pieces with a huge hole in the middle. It didn't take a detective to realise that you’d punched the mirror.

Carla had been watching from afar the slow deterioration of your mental state for the past few weeks. She’d only ever known you as someone from Polo and Guzman’s childhood, apparently drifting apart as you grew up. Going from the charming young woman to the little girl who walked back into class with tears in her eyes to grab your bag once you’d been pulled out of class and told about your father’s death.

Against her head telling her to get out of the bathroom and let whatever adult found you to deal with this. She made her way towards you avoiding pieces of glass scattered around her feet. At your side she ducks down to your level, hand on your knee.

“Y/n…” she calls your name quietly. Your head doesn't move from its position on your knees. She tries again calling your name softly causing you to lift your head slightly realising that someone is calling out your name.

Honestly, Carla was the last person that you expected to see; turning towards your side. You expected a teacher who’d heard from the hallway or any other person from the class you'd dashed out of. So turning to see Polo’s ex would be a shock to anyone.

With your throat dry - your hoarse voice replies “what do you want ?”

If it was anyone else Carla probably would have taken offence to your question but to be honest she didn't know where to go from here. So she just lifted her hand off of your knee and moved it to your other hand that wasn't clearly bleeding onto your shirt. Grabbing your hand, she moves to get up pulling you with her.

“Come on, lets go”

You move to object but for some reason you were curious as to how this would play out so you just nod your head, keeping your fist hidden under your blazer but there was nothing you could do about the blood on your shirt so you just left it.

Carla steps around the glass with your hand still in hers but from the crushing of glass coming from your shoes she could tell you didn’t have the same worry. She momentarily hesitates by the door wondering if classes were over and by the noise coming from the hall she’s proved correct.

“You can go if you want to, I can't say it's very flattering to be seen with me these days.” Your voice breaks the silence. This causes Carla to roll her eyes and move to open the door.

“You think the worst of me Y/n” She replies, opening the door anyway.

The main exit wasn’t far from the girls bathroom but the path just happened to be the busiest in school. So it wasn't a surprise when Carla bumped into Polo causing you to come to halt. The weird tension between the two of them was already uncomfortable but you could bet that the fact that you two were holding hands may have made it worse.

Looking down at your hands conjoined Polo’s eyebrow raises and he starts to stare you down, eyes fixating on the blood red stains against your usually white shirt.

“Where are you going in such a rush ?” he asks Carla, causing her hand in yours to tighten.

“Home” She replies not feeling the need to give him anymore of an explanation

“With Y/n ?” He asks again, Just now you come to the realisation that Polo’s isn't the only attention that the two of you had managed to gather. Already there are people gathering by the lockers nearby trying to take notice of the state of your shirt and the marquesa’s hand in yours.

Noticing this Carla hastily replies “Yes, now we are leaving”

Leading the way she quickens her pace getting out the door and towards her driver who was clearly expecting her. This causes you to wonder as it's only midday so school wouldn't be over for at least another few hours.

—

Arriving at her house she moves towards the front door with you still standing by the car.

“You’ve come this far you might as well enter the house you know.” She calls behind her then calls out for one of the workers to bring a med kit thinking about your fist which had only just about stopped bleeding in the car proving the point that it was a deep cut.

This triggers you to rush to catch up to her as she’s already seated on the nearest sofa. You awkwardly stand in front of it not really knowing where to go from here. Her eyes rolled again.

“Your hand can't be treated if you're standing, just sit down and they'll take care of it.” You take the offer and perch on the sofa as a man takes a nearby chair sitting in front of you, reaching out to take your hand. With some hesitance you give it to him and he gets to work with the antiseptic and bandages. You flinch and grunt as he works but the glares that Carla gives you anytime you move to take away your hand cause you to suck it up and let him do it.

“Why did you bring me back here ?” You ask the question that was on both of your minds, Carla being confused herself as to why she was here with you instead of class.

“You seemed like you needed to get out of there so I got you out of there. Does there need to be another reason?” Looking you in the eyes she replies thinking that was a justifiable response.

“We don’t talk and the most you know about me is whatever I presume Polo ever told you and anything you've seen in the news. So forgive me for asking.”

“I didn’t exactly see you say no at any point so I just assumed you were on board.” she answers again but seeing how that may not be enough she adds “You’re right I don't know you but it wouldn't hurt to. Would it ?“

This seems enough so you reply “No it wouldn’t but like I said in school you're probably not going to gain anything from this so what do you wanna know ?”

Without hesitation she asks “What did the mirror do to you ?”

A slight laugh leaves your lips causing Carla to smirk, happy she managed to get a laugh out of you. Taking a moment to read between the lines of her question the smile drops slightly into a sad one. Thinking back to just over an hour ago when your music teacher couldn’t take the fucking hint and stop bugging you about your parents sponsoring some festival the school wanted to host.

“Mr Riba can’t take a hint” you snarl as Carla’s eyebrow raises prompting you to go on “He thought enough time has passed for everyone to stop walking on eggshells around me concerning my fathers death so he, in the middle of the class, decided to ask me about the sponsorship that my parents were going to provide, full well knowing that it was my father that had the idea in the first place”

“I mean forget about the way he asked in front of a classroom of nosey teenagers but he's asking me about money for the wealthiest school in the country that was supposed to come from my dead father”

As soon as the word ‘dead’ left your lips you wished you never said it. The tears well up in your eyes for the seemingly hundredth time that day, threatening to slip out. The last person you wanted to cry in front of had taken the seat of the worker that was cleaning your fist. She doesn’t move to touch you or say anything knowing that there was nothing she could say or do to make this better.

“I’m sure we could get Mr Riba fired” Your non-bandaged hand rises to rub at your eyes as a watery laugh rips out of your throat.

“We?” You question

“Yeah, we. You’ve told me so you can’t leave me out now” Another smile graces your face, one that reaches your eyes.

“Don’t worry, you're right, you know too much.”

You and Carla spend the next few minutes planning ways to get Mr Riba fired knowing you probably wouldn’t follow through.

Probably.

—-

It’s late by the time you realise you’ve probably intruded long enough so you rise out of the comfortable position you’d moved into, sprawled out on the sofa with Carla opposite you on the other side.

“Lo siento, I’ve practically taken your whole day- “

“Don’t apologise I dragged you here remember? “ She smirks, causing you to nod.

You walk towards the door passing the worker who fixed you up saying thank you, shaking his hand and sliping two hundred euros in his hand, walking away before he got the chance to give it back. Reaching the door you grab the handle turning back to Carla.

“Thank you, en serio, I really needed that. You're not as cold hearted as they say.” you finish with your lips curling up in a teasing smile.

She just rolls her eyes feeling the need to pull you into a hug. Taking your hand on the door she pulls in round her waist moving her arms to your shoulders, encircling you in a hug.

“I don’t do this for anyone, consider yourself special” after a moment she pulls away looking in your eyes “Anytime Y/n. I mean, it doesn’t seem like you have anyone in school except for Rebeka.” She slightly grimaces at this.

Eyebrows raised, you ask “What, is the marquesa jealous ?”

Her face drops “You wish. You should probably leave now.” She turns you round pushing you towards the door as you grab the handle opening it.

You laugh “alright, alright i’m leaving no need to get annoyed”

A cough at the door causes you to straighten up and Carla’s hands drop as she moves from behind you to your side.

You’d always known Teodoro Roson was a serious man with a cold stare from seeing him around at high class parties your parents had been invited to but being on the receiving end caused chills to ripple down your spine.

“Mr Roson, Good evening, I was just leaving.”

Raising his eyebrow at the obvious he replies “ Y/n Caregula, I can see that but what's the rush join us for dinner. I’m sure Carla wouldn’t mind.” He turns towards her, giving her a patronising look.

Luckily for Carla you can tell when you're not wanted. “No, that's fine, no ones waiting for me at home but I’m sure somethings prepared.” The wide grin you sport seems to only irk her father, enlightening you further at his slight discomfort.

“Well, that’s fine then my driver will take you home as I didn't see a car here for you.”

You take him up on that offer as it seems you forgot about the getting home part as Carla had taken you straight from school. “Thank you sir” He seems to be lightly appeased by the respect you're showing. Turning towards Carla you tell her “Thank you again for today Carla” Confusing her father as to what today was but she just responds with a nod acknowledging your thanks.

“Get home safe Y/n”

You nod walking down the front steps approaching the open car door when Teodoro calls out behind you.

“Oh and sorry for your loss Y/n, he was a good man”

So you just nod still entering the car not feeling the need to look him in the eye. Once in the car you just face the driver telling him your address, not turning towards the window till you're out of the compound.

A part of you wants to turn around and punch the man for talking about your father like he was an afterthought, like he wasn't your every waking thought for every hour of every day. Another part of you was just so tired not wanting to deal with Carla’s dad right now.

AN: that’s part one down, part two soon then I’ll get to writing more for this and other fandoms !

[venusflytrpp]

Posting what was gonna be part one of the Carla fic but it’s like 5,000 words so might split it so the fic has more parts than intended but 🤷‍♂️.

I think it’s pretty good it’s sad though don’t think I can currently right any type of fluff 🥲. Just a whole lotta angst I guess.

- Venusflytrpp

Ps. I do take requests though I’d prefer to know the character first.

[venusflytrpp]

Yo! been kinda hectic as i started uni but still writing my Carla fic. Been thinking of writing woso or even greys women cause i started like two weeks ago and I'm on season 6.

A lot of interest in the lucrecia fic. Love it though! There has been questions about part two for it i'll give it a think and get back to you as i never though about it but you never know.

Not many people read my fics but just an update for those who do!

-venusflytrpp

[skywalkerchick1138]

“Those poor boys”

“She deserves to be punished too.”

“I’m not saying I support rape, but-”

“Sorry to say - she deserved it.”

“She put herself in harm’s way”

“But if she was fingered, then that’s not rape.”

“She ruined their lives.”

[super-secret-bi-spy]

“Well she didn’t exactly say ‘no’..”

“Yea, but did you see what she was wearing?”

“Boys will be boys!”

“She should know better than to drink at a party…”

[minimalistfish-blog]

Cannot not reblog.

[captain-ak]

“She should have tried to enjoy–”

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

“She’s just saying something now for atten-“

[skreeee34982047]

boy am i glad this has so many notes

[fandom-is-my-middle-name]

“But he’s a dude. That’s not ra-”

  “He should’ve enjoyed it.”

“She must’ve lead him on.”

“But she orgasmed. That means she liked it - “

[winchester-cas]

“She’s slept with so many people! She’s a slut-“

[emeraldmercury]

“Get over it, at least you’re still a virgin”

“Women can’t rape because…”

“Be grateful it wasn’t a man!”

“I’m sorry she hurt you but don’t call what happened to you rape, it’s an insult to the REAL victims…”

“You weren’t raped, you’re just lesbophobic.”

[erynspencer2187]

“She shouldn’t have posted provocative photos!”

[erynspencer2187]

“She shouldn’t have been dressed like that … she was asking for it!”

[erynspencer2187]

“It’s the woman’s responsibility to not put herself in dangerous situations, she should have been more aware.”

[the-glitter-acetylcholine]

reblogging because it’s gotten even better since last time

[larissaloki]

I love this post!

[i-am-already-panicking]

“Well he paid for dinner, she kind of owed him.”

“She’s his wife, it’s her job to please him.”

“Oral isn’t rape.”

“Well he wasn’t armed, she could have walked away.”

“Guys can’t be raped, they love sex!”

“She didn’t fight back; it wasn’t rape.”

[narfoonthenet]

A good post

[ap-kinda-lit]

the day I do not reblog this is the day I’m buried six feet under

[evil-haiku-robot]

T̼̦H̡͚̫̿Ę̮̜͜ ̲D͕̰Ḁ͒ͬY̶̮͛̀̈ ̶̳͈̕͞I͢ ̬͈ͫ͞D̷͇͢O͕ ̵̡̮̲́N̡̼̎O͏Tͦͤ̒̈͠ ̟̯͘͞ Ŗͧͮ̀ÈͥBΙ̙̙̉҉L̺Ơ̽͠Gͪ ͒T̕͠H̵̿ͪIͪS͉̤̭ ̀̿͟I̸̋͑̀S̸҉ͥ͘͘ ̵̢̤̈́͝T̜̙̊̎H͈͍̘͌͢Ë̛̳͖̟ ͉̦̀̋D͍́̕͟Ā͞Y̦҉̶ͮ̒ ͊Iͤ’̙ͥ̋͟M̞͏ͩͤ҉ ̱ B̐Ι̿U̷̓R̥ͤ̈́͋I̻ͭ͗̕̕E̽͜D̢͉̠ ̷̌ͥ̀S̵͇ͩI̔X̦́̐̈́ͮ ̨̯̰ͥͫF̨̝̮͊É̗̯̕E͌̈́̕Ṫ̖͏͕̔ ̪̻̗̥U̹ͯN̵̺D̤̄̍Ë̴R̾ͩ҉̜ ̼̀̆

^EVILHAIKU^bot^2. I li̕ke̛ you! \ (•◡•) / | PayPal | Patreon

[corviacore]

I like that people included male rape victims as well! This is a good post

[waywardchica]

“They shouldn’t have gone out with someone they met online.”

[notjustamumj]

always always reblog

[dreamingathighaltitude]

This is amazing as a two time survivor it’s fucking time to hear this shit debunked! Hate has no place!

[donnaschaunamanon-deactivated20]

Can not not reblog. 

[slytherin4ever]

If I here someone say any of the sentences above…

I can’t believe some people need to hear this but RAPE IS RAPE. How can anyone excuse it? Survivors have to hear this bullshit smh. I feel so horrible for the people who have to hear this from people. I feel so horrible for the people who have had traumatizing experiences like getting raped and people don’t see how serious and scarring it can be.

[emersondarling]

^^ if any of you don’t agree please unfollow me thank u -.-

[venusflytrpp]

I’m currently writing a new fic with Carla (elite) based on Dear anonymous- Kid Brunswick

…Yeah It’s still not gonna be a happy one sorry dudes 🥲😀

[profturtle]

The Marina of It All

I can’t stop thinking about Maya and Carina’s arc on Station 19 this season. It’s bewitched me body and soul in a way that network television really hasn’t in so long so let’s talk about it (gif makers thank you in advance!).

To put it lightly there’s been a longstanding “tradition” to ruin queer relationships in television. Either death, disagreement (who wants kids?) or the show’s cancellation we rarely get to see a full arc from their initial meeting to dating to engagement, marriage and all the bumps along the way. Marina really is incredibly rare. I cannot overstate how rare they are. Sure they’re on an ensemble show but they’re fully on network television in very much a primetime slot. Thursday nights are as coveted as it gets in network - it’s huge. This season in particular has really just been so well thought out as they’re fully utilizing the previous three seasons (and really the whole series in Maya’s case) to create an incredible emotional arc. This is also why I’m constantly going off about the importance of network television! The longevity of it is what gives such depth to storytelling that you really don’t get in any other medium. 

Okay but why are Marina important? And why this arc? Honestly, I’ve just never seen a sapphic relationship handled with this much care. I’ve never doubted that they would actually break up even after that hospital scene. There’s been so much groundwork laid this season that has constantly given reassurance in a way that’s made this such an incredible journey to go on (and it’s not done yet). There’s never been any doubt to how much Maya and Carina love each other no matter the situation. Their rift wasn’t caused simply for the sake of drama but to borrow from Maya’s metaphor: their foundation was never finished. It was never solid and filled with cracks. We know Maya’s mental health was at risk, we’ve known since the beginning of this relationship but it was never Carina’s job to fix (as much as she tried). 

What Station 19 has done so well is explore how these characters who deal with traumatic situations day in and day out also need to handle their own trauma. Is it perfect? Absolutely not but the appearances that Diane has made throughout the show have all been incredibly impactful. I would love to see more of Carina’s backstory at this point (there’s so much there!) but Maya’s growth especially this season is some of the best I’ve ever seen. Instead of just ending this marriage completely, we’ve been shown that Maya is capable of working through her issues. That she’s redeemable and that relationships take work (so much work!). It’s such a mature way to handle this and we almost never see it in media and definitely not for queer relationships. 

The fact that these two characters from different shows with such similar backgrounds were put together and it worked in every way conceivable is as magical as it gets. I haven’t even touched on Danielle and Stefania’s chemistry because it’s just too much to talk about. Let’s just call it fantastico and appreciate the beauty of every one of their interactions. 

At the end of the day, is this show perfect? No, of course not. Does it delve into every character as much as I’d like? No, it’s too big of an ensemble. However, it continually pushes the boundaries of what’s been acceptable on network television. What the show has done this season is say “hey, we’ve got this couple that people like and we’re going to put them through the ringer but they’ll be better off for it and our audience will know even a queer couple is valid and important and real”. I know that hasn’t always been the case but it’s important to acknowledge now. 

[venusflytrpp]

The way you felt - Lucrecia

There you sat on the same sofa that you found yourself on time and time again. The same looks of pity across the nightclub coming in from every direction. Every time you wonder how you got into this same position every Wednesday. Helplessly pining after a girl who barely gave you the time of day in favour of her ex who wanted nothing to with her romantically.

“Y/N!!” Hearing your name being repeatedly called from the entrance of the club you get up making your way through sweaty bodies, shoes slightly sticking to the floor due to spilled drinks by the wasted entitled students of las encinas. “Y/N” You increase your pace getting closer to the entrance locating the source of the voice to be Rebeka, Samuel and Nadia clearly blocked for entrance by a rather burly guard. 

“Right, there she is finally, y/n we were just telling this guy that we are meant to be on the list, but your little Mexican barbie must have forgotten” Rebeka enunciates nodding her head within the club. A blank expression takes homage on your face until you look across all three of them eyes pleading at you to go along with it.

Rolling your eyes, you look at the bouncer “Let them in.  Lucrecia forgot to get their names on the list. I texted her to remind her, but it seems she forgot again” As you see the acknowledgement cross his face you start moving back to where you were previously seated.

They pass the bouncer as he lets them in with Rebeka patting him on the cheek in a teasing manner. Moving to catch up to you she moves her arm to rest on your shoulder redirecting you to the bar. You look at her, eyebrows raising in question only to find a knowing smile on her face. As you arrive at the bar Rebeka calls out to the bartender. 

“6 shots please my good man, I’m tryna get this one tanked” She exclaims patting your back enthusiastically. Your eyes widen in a panic. She sees this laughing at you saying “no there not all for you babes, we get three each.” 

“How do you know I'm not already drunk?” A look from her is all it takes to get you to shut up and down all three of your shots as soon as they are given to you.

“So where is Latino Barbie? “She asks already assuming you'd know where she is due to your endless pining. You nod your head towards Lucrecia who's got herself all over Guzman as he’s looking in the direction of the bar to the girl who appeared next to you after taking off her hijab in the bathroom. 

“You know I'll never understand how you managed to find yourself at the beck and call of a girl like that. Any of the girls in this school would drop their pants for you with just a look yet you chose her.” Rebeka releases her arm from round your shoulder turning you in your seat to look away from Lu. “And before you go off with your pitiful speech on how you didn't choose to fall in love with her, I don't wanna hear it. The girl doesn't give you the time of day and when she does, she somehow manages to convince you that she's yours.” 

Your head drops down to your hands taking Rebe’s words to heart, knowing that everything she's saying is true. “I love her Rebe and every time that I do have her in my arms, I never want to let go because it seems like she finally feels the same way. I thought I was fine with having her once in a while but now it just really fucking hurts.” Tears escape the corner of your eyes rolling down your cheeks into your closed hands.

Rebe takes your shoulders into her hands pulling you forward into her embrace. Whispering comforting words into your ears, kissing your forehead as she goes to look you in the eyes. “Look y/n you can either confront her today and try and get out of this or we can get absolutely fucked and deal with it tomorrow”

A smile makes its way on your lips as you reply “the second option please” A nod from her confirms it as she turns back towards the bartender ordering more shots.

About 6 more shots and a few drinks later you found yourself on the dancefloor with Rebe grinding her back against you and some girl that you forgot the name of behind you. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket causing the unnamed girl to lean forward and shout over the music “Your phones going off!” Nodding your head in acknowledgement you take your phone out unlocking it only getting a glimpse of Lucrecia’s name across the screen before Rebeka leans backwards grabbing the phone and dropping it into her bra.

“Hey-” before you could even begin to protest, she shouts “No y/n, we’re getting fucked and dealing with this tomorrow remember?” This is all it takes to shut you up before you grab her hips and pull her further into you in agreement.

—

Waking up to a pounding in your head wasn't the morning that you'd expect when you got ready to leave for the club last night. But alas here you were laying upside down in Rebeka’s bed the other side vacant. 

Slowly rising, taking caution to moving too fast you get off the bed and make your way downstairs after checking you were decent in the mirror.  Getting to the bottom of the stairs, making your way into the kitchen you see Rebeka and her mum sitting at the kitchen counter with a jug of orange juice on the table as well as a big plate of toast and fruits. 

“Buenos días hermosa! “Rebeka’s mum calls out to you causing you to flinch as her voice seemed to make your hangover worse. “Oh, right sorry, it must have been a long night” She revaluates her words and volume, taking note of your flinch. 

(Good morning beautiful)

Raising an eyebrow towards Rebeka you ask the silent question getting the reply “no, no we didn't do anything last night” With your shoulders falling down in relief she retaliates “Hey! Don't look so relieved you’d be lucky to have me” Chuckling to yourself you reply.

“Of course, I would.” Looking down, patting down your pockets you ask “hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?” Extending her pointer finger to the corner of the table furthest from you, you see your phone.

“I don't know if you even want to open it, Latino barbie went a bit mad spamming your phone last night, it might have been after she saw us leave together but otherwise, I’m unsure” 

Eyes widening you unlock your phone finding about 20 messages from Lucrecia all asking about your whereabouts and why you left with Rebe. 

“Joder” you say locking your phone placing it face down on the table.

(Fuck)

—

Sunlight had vowed to be your sworn enemy this morning as you got out of the car, Rebeka getting out behind you and handing you a pair of sunglasses which you were grateful for.

“I told you you'd need that spare uniform you left at my place sometime” She straightens out her skirt looking you up and down in your maroon pants and matching school blazer, shirt and tie. 

Rolling your eyes, you move ahead of her making your way across the bridge into the school deeply dreading running into Lucrecia, as you knew if you did you probably wouldn't have the energy for your daily facade.

Walking into the classroom you immediately wanted to walk out but whilst turning to do so you bump into Samuel causing you to turn back into the classroom and sit next to Rebe rather than your normal seat behind Carla y Lucrecia.

(y-and)

“Aye, hermosa you're in my seat!” Valerio’s voice booms out from the front of the class and immediately you want to be swallowed by the ground beneath you. Lucrecia turning round in her seat, starts beckoning out for you but the headache that’s enslaved you causes you to ground yourself further into your arms. Rebeka’s hand moves upwards and downwards rubbing circles on your back. 

(Hermosa – beautiful)

“Right, Ms Lucrecia I’m going to need you to stop calling for y/n like she’s a dog and leave her alone, at least until break, Por favor. And Valerio you can just take y/n’s seat” Rebe calls forward addressing the stepsiblings

“Narco since when did you speak for y/n, I’m sure her mouth works” Lu retaliates ignoring the glare Rebe gives her focusing on you as your head peaks out and all you say is 

“Not today, Lu, Por favor” The positioning of your head causes the words to come out muffled, but she must’ve gotten the message as she turns around, scowl on her face.  A small tap on your back from Rebeka clearly commends you for the decision.

(Por favor – please)

—-

Class finishes and your first instinct is to grab your things and leave before Lu catches up, but it seems she had the same idea, as she’s up before you standing in the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“And where do you think you’re going? “She questions looking you up and down, choosing to ignore the clear distasteful look you were sporting. 

“I have another class soon- “ 

“It’s in an hour, we both have the same class next.” She interrupts, as you hear Valerio chuckle from behind you. Informing you that everyone can hear the conversation. 

“Look, to be honest I’m tired, hungover and I really don’t want to deal with your shit right now. Can I just get past?” Clearly obnoxious to the current situation you hear Valerio laugh even louder making a few comments to Rebe which you're sure you’ll find out about later.

Lu takes a step back sending a dirty look to Valerio then grabbing at your wrist pulling you towards the girls bathrooms clearly uncaring if you run into people behind her. Due to this your left sprouting apologies left and right in response to the looks you get. Some even give you sympathy looks once they see who's pulling you.

Making her way into the bathroom with you in tow she kicks out anyone that was in there and locks the door behind you.

“What the fuck was that about Y/n?” She turns around giving you a look that makes you pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I could be asking you the exact same question Lucrecia, you don't seem to have any consideration for other people. Though that wasn't really a surprise to me” you say the last part under your breath, though by the look on her face you can tell she heard. 

“What’s gotten into you- “

“What’s gotten into me is that I’m finally done with your bullshit, you can’t use me as a failsafe every time that your advances on Guzman go wrong” Your head starts pounding a reminder of the hangover you were still nursing but regardless you keep going, “ The guy doesn’t want you and I did, I wanted you, I gave you everything you deserved Love, Comfort and more. Yet every time you were done with me you went right back to him. I knew this yet it took someone else saying it for me to finally get it in my head.”

Her face drops at your use of the past tense 

“Did…” she asks “Did?” she asks again anger rising in her voice as she get louder “Is this about Narco… did you fuck her!”

“Wait, what… did you listen to a word I just said, it’s you, you’re the issue-”

“You still haven’t denied it” Your head tilts in question “After the party last night, did you fuck Rebeka?”

Your brows raise in disbelief at the accusation, but you decide to keep her guessing, avoiding the question again “Can you hear me, Lucrecia? The issue isn’t with who I’m fucking or who I’m not fucking it’s about how you’re messing with me, you know how I feel and yet you can’t give me a straight answer.”

“Feelings were never involved in this, I thought you knew that?”

You feel your heart break at this, looking her in the eyes trying to find the lie in her words but all you see is her looking back at you with a sure look on her face. You take a step back approaching the door, unlocking it.

“Ok, cool… Don’t contact me please, I hope you're happy, But I guess you won't be until you realise that it's never gonna be with Guzman.” 

Getting out of the bathroom, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, you make your way to your previous classroom. Entering the room, you see everyone conversing and get quieter seeing you, clearly indicating they were talking about what was going on between you and Lucrecia. Despite this you walk up to Rebe mid conversation with Samuel and tap her on the shoulder. 

As if recognising the tears threatening to fall, she goes to ask you how it went but you interrupt 

“Can we go back to yours?” you ask quietly “She’ll probably turn up at my house later because I asked her not to call.” 

“Anything to blow off school… and also to help you out clearly something happened with her” She initially grins before realising and replacing it with a soft smile. 

Rolling your eyes, you grab her hand and her bag leading her out of the classroom not before Valerio calls after you 

“Can I join?”

Disgust takes up your face sending him a look that shuts him down then continuing your way out of the class and down the halls. Just as you reach the main entrance you bump into Lu falling back into Rebe, her hand holding your waist steady. She goes to insult you for colliding with her before she realises it’s you. 

Looking you up and down for any discrepancies she may have caused she goes to apologise before she sees Rebeka’s hands still on your waist. This stops her as her look hardens and she stalks past not before barging Rebe’s shoulder. 

You shake your head taking her hand back into yours leading her out of the school towards the car. 

“What was that about? I mean aside from the obvious hate she has for me, it seems it’s gotten worse” She questions.

Begrudgingly, you answer 

“She thinks we fucked”

AN- started off inspired by this song but it kinda goes off it i left the song there if you still wanna listen.

[venusflytrpp]

Carla Gif #2

You were known as someone who constantly liked to please every one even if it meant that your own happiness was sacrificed.

"Look Y/n I like you and you like me we've know this for months now -" You were about to cut in with your standard response, she realised this and resumed what she was saying. "- I've told that I don't fucking care if you think there are others better suited to me all your doing at this point is pushing other people onto me so you hurt yourself, cause you don't think you deserve to be happy" (😋✌)

This seemed to shut you up as she hit the nail on the head.

"But what you don't see is that by doing this your no different that everyone else thinking they can make my decisions for me" She declares looking you up and down before walking away from you.