#lenore osgood imagine

[rhiannon-sweetheart]

The only heaven I like is with you

summary: Lenore and you decided to sleep in this week, all nice and warm next to each other just enjoying the moment before she has to deal with things

pairing: Lenore Osgood x Fem! Reader

word count: 404

warnings:  none just some lovey-dovey type of stuff

AN: There is barely anything written about this gorgeous woman, so I decided to do this :) hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did write it.

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It was a Sunday morning that you and your girlfriend decided to sleep in, Lenore wrapped her arms around your waist to bring you even closer to her as she possibly could. You smiled to yourself and wrapped your arms around her neck as you began to hide your face away into her neck, peppering some light kisses on it.

After a good while you were going to get up to make her breakfast in bed but here is where the problem lied, she just clung onto you not even bothering to let you go. Half of the times you gave in and stayed in bed with her for the most part of the day, this time she had a good grip of you, and you knew that she wasn't going to give up.

"Lenore darling, please let go for just a moment"

"No sweetheart stay for a bit longer, please"

you forgot how childish she got with you, but you gave her kisses along her face and ended up finishing by pressing your lips onto her's

"Oh, don't worry love I'll be right back, I just have to do something really quick so back to sleep"  

she mumbled something before knocking out again, as you made your way downstairs into the kitchen you started to make her waffles with coffee on the side for her to drink

time skip ig (I'm horrible at cooking and if I described how to make waffles oh boy)

you put all the food on a tray and slowly made your way back up to your shared room carefully not wanting to drop anything, as you made it up to the last step you saw  from the corner of your eye you saw a flower and decided to take it and put it on the corner of the tray and opened the door to the bedroom and there you saw her reading a book. when she looked up at you her heart melted at the dight of you bringing her breakfast in bed.

"Darling you shouldn't have but thank you sweetheart"

"It's no problem mi amor"

you slowly put the tray onto her lap careful not to spill anything and got back into bed with her quickly leaving a kiss on her cheek as you laid back down, she started to eat as you heard the clanging against the plate, and she loved them, Lenore soon drank her coffee. As soon as Lenore finished, she motioned for you to get onto her lap, and you did.

"But I'd rather have something else to eat sweetheart"

"And what would that be?"

"you."

And with that you felt her warm hands being wrapped around your body and having her soft lips around yours made you realized that you wanted to stay with her for the rest of time you had together.

[ververa]

“I see red...”

Request: hiiii could you do a Lenore Osgood x fem reader fic (smut) where the reader would call her mommy/daddy and Lenore would call her princess or some cute pet name

A/N:  I know I'm the worst for taking so long 🙈🙈🙈 I apologize, but school and everything has been pretty hectic lately. Also I'm kinda struggling with writing, not to mention that smut definitely isn’t my strong suit, so I'm sorry if this is bad 🙈 I did my best.

Hope you will enjoy it!!!

Lenore Osgood x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW

Word count: 1,548

You laid on Lenore's king sized bed, sprawled out – just the way the older woman liked. Your hands rested on both sides of your body, your nails were digging into satin bedding as you desperately needed to keep a hold of something when Lenore made your legs spread in one swift move. It never took her too much effort. Just a simple touch of her delicate hands, her nails lightly scratching, leaving white marks on your sensitive skin - were enough to turn you into a mess. It always worked the same. It drove you crazy every damn time without fail. Lenore knew it and took great pride in being able to make you feel that way.

As your legs parted, making enough space for Lenore, she crawled onto the bed, positioning herself between your thighs. You watched her, but didn't move, remembering the rule - no touching. You knew better than to disobey Lenore. You knew that being a good girl and following the rules could be far more rewarding than misbehaving. And the truth was - you were happy to comply. You would do anything, everything for her. Whatever she wanted you to be, you would be - because nothing could compare to the feeling she gave you. Nothing compared to her and nothing had ever felt so good as being with her.

You liked the way she looked at you. You liked the way she touched you. You liked all of it more than any words could ever describe. And Lenore was well aware of it.

Lenore smiled looking at you. You adored that little smirk - the sign of satisfaction on her face, almost as much as having her hands on you. She was clearly pleased with the fact you had no panties on. You were wearing only a skimpy, black nightgown - the one she bought for you and liked so much. It wasn’t a coincidence. She knew. You had been thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Dreaming about her. She had you wrapped around her finger. She had you right where she wanted to - ready, eager, at her beck and call.

“Take it off, darling,” she said, lightly pulling at the lacy material and giving you some space.

You nodded, sitting up and stripping off the thin fabric. That’s what she liked. Obedience.

Lenore took in your naked form and smiled contently, dreamily even. That grin itself was enough to make your head spin. You definitely could lose your mind for that woman. You did lose your mind and there was no turning back…

“Lie down” Lenore ordered and you obliged immediately. “So eager, aren’t you, darling?” she chuckled, shifting, sitting in a more comfortable position.

You blushed, nodding. There was no use denying, you were way too obvious to try and do so anyways.

“Well well, then I should probably give you what you want, hm?” she said, tracing her fingers across your thigh and closely watching the way your body responded to her touch.

“Please…” you gasped.

“Please what, princess?”

“Please, touch me” you looked at her pleadingly.

“Hmm...I don’t know. Should I do it?” she teased and chuckled, as you rolled your eyes. “I need to think about it,” she said in an indifferent tone, looking at her nails instead of you.

“Please please… mommy” you pleaded, knowing it would work, as it did every time.

Lenore’s eyes widened at the title you used. It wasn't the first time you called her mommy. It probably wasn't the last time either. At least she hoped so.

It didn't matter how many times before you had called her that. It didn't matter how many more times you would do it. She could listen to it all the time. Again and again. And the power that one simple word carried would never decrease.

"You are such a good girl for me" she praised "I guess I should reward you, hm?"

You nodded eagerly. Ready and waiting as you always were for her.

"Please…" you said softly, as Lenore positioned herself between your legs once again. Her hand slid up your thigh, making you shiver. You arched your back, giving her an invitation.

"That's my girl" she chuckled, bringing her body down on top of yours - accepting the invitation.

Her lips found yours within seconds. Her hands got a hold on both your wrists and made you move them up, keep them above your head. She shifted to grab them both in one of her hands, so that she could use the other as a support. She held you like that for a while. Her lips trailed down your chin, down the center of your neck. 

"Keep them here" she said, pecking your lips, before letting go of your wrists.

You complied, as you always did. You kept your hands up, out of the way, curling your fingers and biting your lower lip, as Lenore explored your exposed skin. She explored it with her hands, with her lips, with her tongue. She was in no hurry. She let herself enjoy all the ways your body responded to her actions. You made soft sounds as she worked, sighs, giggles, a sudden intake of breath - as she moved and her lips met your stomach. She stopped then and moved forward, placing a few kisses up the space between your breasts.

She didn't keep you waiting too long. She never teased too much. She wanted to hear you moan, scream her name. She liked to watch you whine underneath her. She liked to watch you burn with desire.

Lenore raised your legs higher and you wrapped them around her. The fabric of her silky, red robe was tickling your exposed skin. 

Her lips met yours again, and as they did she entered you, inserting two fingers inside you, sliding deeper, watching you closely as you arched your back and gasped. She smiled.

"Look at me. Look into my eyes" she demanded.

Your eyes met her blue ones, which were now almost completely black with lust. Lenore smirked, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pumping her fingers in and out. You kept rolling your hips, searching for even more friction.

"If you keep doing it, I'll stop" Lenore warned and you immediately stopped. You didn't want her to stop. Not when you were so close.

Her lips moved to suck on that one, particularly sensitive spot in your neck that only Lenore knew existed.

"Oh!– Uh!– Lenore" you moaned, momentarily closing your eyes.

"Who?" she pulled away to look at you with one eyebrow raised.

Your eyes opened as you quickly corrected yourself.

"M-mommy" you said, your voice shaking.

"That's it, princess" she smirked, before continuing kissing down your neck. Each peck of her lips on your sensitive skin was leaving you breathless, pushing you further to the edge. Her touch was gradually setting you on fire. You closed your eyes and drew in a hitching, shallow breath. 

"I'm gonna-" a whine escaped your lips "I'm gonna… cum"

"Cum for me, sweet girl" she said in a low voice, curling her fingers inside of you.

You gasped then moaned. And for a moment all you could see was red… Nothing in the world compared to that feeling. You had never felt anything so strong as you did with Lenore. She got your mind flying high, yet kept you completely conscious at the same time. Conscious and incomplete. 

Lenore watched as you fell apart underneath her and then observed how you slowly came down from the blissful state you were in. She stared at you with a small smile on her face. Her nails were lazily drawing different shapes on your abdomen, as she waited for you to catch a breath.

It took you a moment to finally be able to open your eyes. As you did so, you turned your head to look at her. Lenore looked into your glazed eyes and brushing your cheek asked,

"How did it feel, sweetheart?"

"Amazing" you said and met her smile with one of your own.

Lenore moved to sit up and reach for a cigarette, though before she could you rolled over and straddled her lap. The woman hummed contently as you wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her. She placed her hands on your hips to pull you even closer. The action made you smile against her lips.

Lenore's nails dug into your back and you continued kissing down her neck and cleavage until you reached the bottom of her robe's neck. She gasped as you kept placing kisses all around the neckline. You pushed down the edge of her robe, exposing her shoulder, giving your lips more skin to conquer.

"Since I've been good, it's time you let me have a taste of you" you said at which Lenore's grin only got bigger.

The heiress undid her robe, exposing her naked body. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. The excitement of what was next took your mind over completely.

Having Lenore's hands and lips on you felt  amazing, blissful. Though being able to return the favor felt even better. You hadn't even started yet, but you already were ready to pray and beg her for more.

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​, @xixxiixx​, @pradababey​, @marvelfansince08love​, @scoumastersarahismyname​, @misssmephisto​, @queeniesstrudel​

[sapphicsfied]

So, am I ugly?

[Gwendolyn Briggs x reader]

"Gwen.." you said, peeking inside the bathroom.

Gwendolyn was shakily holding a razor, tears streaming down her face as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Cancer's treatments had really taken a toll on her physical appearance. Her already milky skin had become even paler, making her look like the ghost of the woman she once was; and she had lost so much weight, every time you went out you feared a gust of wind would have blown her away, just like a pile of dust, so you held on to her, as firmly as you could.

You knew how much your lover had suffered since the beginning of the treatments, but losing her hair was the last drop, you knew that too.

You stepped into the bathroom and wrapped your arms around her waist. She scoffed, "Look at me, I'm ugly.. I'm...repulsive". She threw the razor on the floor, covering her face with her hands as she sobbed.

You picked the razor up, "Let me".

You shaved her thin, weak hair, occasionally kissing her cheeks to wipe away her tears. Once you were done she stared at the mirror, as if in a trance.

You sighed and raised the razor to your head, proceeding to shave off your hair as well.

She looked at you in disbelief, "Darling, you.."

"I couldn't let you go through this alone", you kissed the back of her head.

"So, am I ugly?", you asked, with the hint of a smile on your face.

Gwen turned around, facing you, "You're stunning".

"Just like you", you answered, before gently kissing her lips.

[ratchedspeach]

Upward Over the Mountains - Chapter 1 | READ ON AO3

my long promised college Mildolyn au!!! Enjoy!!

September, 1929

Mildred Ratched stroked her thumb absently against the corner of her suitcase. She recited and re-recited the list of its contents in her head.

Underwear: check.

Toothbrush: check.

Socks: check.

Hairbrush: …

Mildred stuttered, thumb stilling against the cool metal of the latch. A hairbrush, how could she have forgotten a hairbrush? Her cheeks warmed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She turned her gaze out the window once more, watched the trees roll across mountains and stretch for miles on either side of her. It was enough to swallow her whole. From her vantage on the highway, Mildred wondered if this was what it was like to be sailing; the ocean splayed and smooth below a hull of oak or cedar, the scent of salt and wind. Only here, the air smelled of sweet dirt and rot, and there was no wood beneath her feet: only the faded carpet of her taxi. Still, the trees persisted like the uneven sightline of waves crashing. Only, here, there were shades of pale yellow and vibrant orange and deep clay, not greens and greys as she imagined water might look.

“Should be just off this next exit, Miss.” The cab driver - a gruff looking man with a thick mustache and beat up cap - grunted, and Mildred felt the car veer towards the right.

Mildred squeaked out a meager “thank you”, her voice barely coming as a whisper against the dryness of her throat. She checked her watch; they had been driving for well over two hours now, much to the begrudge of her driver, who had been none-so-pleased picking her up from the GreyHound bus stop. Mildred’s chest tightened when she thought of the way his gnarled features pulled into a frown, how he had muttered as he helped her load the cardboard box which contained the rest of her belongings into the back of his trunk, and rolled her eyes when she asked if she could perhaps keep the items up with her. She rolled her neck. It would be good to get out of the car, she decided.

She was right, of course.

Once stopped, the campus of Bennington College was all greens and yellows and browns. A large brick building stretched beyond a field already bustling with incoming students. A lake nestled between dormitories, and somewhere in the distance, Mildred could see smoke from a chimney. She inhaled the electricity crackling off of those who she would soon call her classmates. She paid the taxi driver, and thanked him. He, in turn, dropped the box with her belongings onto the sidewalk before speeding away.

Now what?

Mildred couldn’t be sure. Signs were planted firmly into the grass around her - some directed towards registration for freshmen, some held the names of dormitories, some merely boasted welcome! In cheery gold letters. Mildred followed the first of them, finding herself in front of a table lined with young women checking names off of lists and pointing in different directions.

After waiting her turn, Mildred found herself greeted by a pink-cheeked girl with curls and spectacles hanging against her nose. She asked for Mildred’s name, which Mildred gave.

“Ratched, Mildred.”

The girl glanced up at her, her pale eyes taking stock of Mildred almost hungrily. Her gaze landed on the cardboard box clutched in Mildred’s arms.

“Oh honey, is that all you’ve brought with you?”

Mildred’s cheeks warmed, and she suddenly wanted very badly to be anywhere but here. Still, she nodded, and asked weakly for her dorm assignment.

“You’ll be in the Barnes Houses. Gosh, you’re lucky! Those are some of the biggest rooms.” The girl gushed, then added after a moment: “not that you’ll need all that space.”

Mildred clung to her box like a life raft. She thanked the girl, and spun on her heels. Somewhere behind her, she heard the girl shout “welcome to Bennington!”, but she didn’t turn to acknowledge it.

Mildred couldn’t believe her eyes when she finally swung the door open to her room. It wasn’t just spacious, it was … god, it was huge; bigger than any space Mildred had ever called her own before. Two beds tucked into opposite corners of the room, each against a window which let in bright Vermont sky. Mildred noted that one of the beds was already half set up - a set of pale blue sheets and pillows strewn across it. Not that Mildred minded; if anything, it took the pressure off her when it came to choosing a bed. She dropped the box onto the spring mattress, the contents jostling ever so slightly at the disruption.

“Oh good, you’re here!” Mildred heard from behind her, whipping around to see a bright, blonde girl with pale blue eyes and thin lips. She was holding a succulent between her slender fingers, and a smile lifted her cheeks. She was distinctly pretty, in a jade green dress and penny loafers. Mildred found herself suddenly embarrassed of her simple skirt and brown cardigan.

“I’m Lenore - Lenore Osgood.” The girl greeted, sticking her hand out for Mildred to shake.

“Mildred Ratched.” She greeted, trying to match the levity of her new roomemate’s smile, but managing no more than a grimace.

Lenore took her hand and shook it jovially, a single finger pressing into the hollow of Mildred’s palm.

“Well, I guess we’re living together, then. I’ve never had a roommate before, being an only child and all. Oh, don’t worry, I’m terribly clean, and I don’t tend to make much noise. Well, I’ve been told that sometimes I talk in my sleep, but you can’t hardly hold that against me, being unconscious and all.” Mildred felt dizzy. Lenore looked past her, brow furrowing the pale skin of her forehead. “Is that all you’ve brought with you?”

Mildred swallowed. Her dark eyes glazed, and she nodded slowly. Lenore simply shrugged.

“Well, I was going to offer to help you unpack, but it doesn’t seem it’ll take you very long. Gosh, you should have seen my parent’s car; we could barely fit me in the back seat. Your parent’s must be awfully proud to have a daughter so sufficient at packing. Are they here?”

Mildred’s stomach twisted, and she exhaled too quickly. “Oh, um, no they … well … they’re just …”

“Gosh, you’re a nervous thing, aren’t you?” Lenore queried a smile.

“I …”

“Relax, Millie - can I call you that? - I’m only teasing you.” Lenore turned and began busying herself with breaking down boxes and putting the finishing touches on her bed. “Well, anyway, my parents went to the cafeteria to try and rustle up something edible. I’ve heard the food here isn’t too bad, although I bet it doesn’t hold a candle to a home cooked meal, don’t you think?”

Mildred swallowed and nodded. Gosh, could she talk. Mildred decided that she liked it - liked her. Lenore wasn’t mean-spirited or jaded, wasn’t timid or prim. Lenore was the opposite of Mildred in so many ways, and it swallowed her whole, made her feel normal. Yes, Mildred thought, they would get along rather nicely.

“Oh gosh, is that the time already?” Lenore pulled her from her thoughts, blue eyes bulging at her watch. She reached for Mildred’s hand: “c’mon, we’ll be late for orientation!”

Mildred followed the blonde in a daze, letting Lenore drag her through the door and down the hall. A crowd had already formed outside of other first years. Beyond them there was a line of women in white sweatshirts with BENINGTON printed across them in red collegiate letters.

“Alright, ladies, settle down!” One of them, a short girl with a northern accent and dark bangs clamored above the crowd. The chatter dissipated, leaving a nervous hum of energy and anticipation in its wake. “My name is Betsy Bucket, and I’m a junior. If I call your name, you’ll be breaking off with me. The rest of you will be split between the lovely women on either side of me.” She gestured swiftly to seven other girls.

Betsy began reading from a list; mispronouncing names with little regard as she went. By the end, she had a crew of about thirty girls, one of which was Lenore. Two more girls read off lists, and Mildred felt her heart plummet a little deeper into her stomach everytime her name was not chosen. And then the fourth girl: strawberry blonde with full cheeks, stalky and glowing against the collegiate background stepped forward. Feeling her tongue too large for her mouth suddenly, Mildred let the muscle dart across her upper lip.

“... Mildred Ratched!”

Mildred’s body lurched forward before her brain could react to what was happening. She found herself in the shadow of the girl, who nodded and smiled at her with deep azure eyes, and continued on with her list. Ten names later, she led them to the shade of a tree away from the crowd, and had them sit in a circle. Mildred found herself sandwiched between a bulky girl with thick glasses and a thicker lisp, and their orientation leader. Once seated, Mildred noticed that she smelled of lavender and oak, and she was the only one amongst them to wear pants. The sleeves of her sweatshirt were bunched, revealing the slender muscle of her forearms. She had strong, distinct hands, and Mildred could sense an heir of cockiness floating off of her. Mildred thought it suited her.

“Alright ladies, welcome.” Her voice was lighter than Mildred had expected - its cadence higher, like wind chimes. “My name is Gwendolyn Briggs. I’m a senior here at Bennington. My favorite color is red, and this summer I hiked the Appalachian Trail.” A murmur went through the circle. Gwendolyn nodded towards Mildred: “alright, now you.”

Mildred’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, um …” she cleared her throat, which was suddenly very dry indeed, “M-my name is Mildred Ratched. I’m .. well … a freshman.” A few snickers. “My favorite color … I’m not sure I have one. Green, maybe? This summer I …” Mildred panicked, her breathing rising into her chest and twisting painfully. Think, Mildred, think! “I um … I worked at an ice cream parlor.”

The crowd mumbled a hello to her, but Mildred could hardly hear it over the roar of blood rushing through her ears. Her dark eyes flicked to Gwendolyn, and she found the girl looking at her as though she could see all the way through to her skeleton. Mildred’s neck burned under her gaze, and she averted her own back to her palms.

The rest of the circle rattled on - about twenty five girls in total listing a myriad of colors and summer activities. Gwendolyn seemed not to notice, for every time Mildred had a chance to glance up at her, she caught icy blue eyes on her flesh, and her stomach reeled all over.

From that first circle, Mildred would fall further and further back into the crowd as Gwendolyn gestured to buildings, explained how cafeteria hours worked, and when the library was open, and when curfew was.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Meet me back at the commons tomorrow at 11 am sharp. Don’t forget my face!” Gwendolyn joked as she dismissed the gaggle of girls. “Mildred, a moment?”

Mildred practically tripped over her own legs in her rush to meet her. She loomed over Mildred in height, and Mildred found herself craning her neck to meet her eyes.

“I was warned about the … circumstances of how you came to Bennington.” Mildred’s breath caught. No, no, no. This was it: the thing she had been dreading. This was the beginning and the end of her social life. It had to be. Mildred’s gaze cast down to her worn shoes, air neither entered nor left her lungs, and her head spun and then -

A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. Mildred flinched, but the hand persisted.

“I just wanted to offer my assistance however I can. I know how hard it can be to feel like an outsider. I’d like to be an ally to you, if you’ll let me.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Mildred’s gaze lifted once more. And Gwendolyn, for her part, smiled; a warm, honest thing. And then Mildred was smiling too.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

Gwen just shrugged: “go on, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mildred turned on autopilot. She could feel the thrum of her pulse where Gwendolyn’s hand once was.

“Oh, and Mildred?” Mildred peeked over her shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you.” Gwendolyn winked.

Mildred’s lips parted slightly. She had half a mind to say something in response, but Gwendolyn was already sauntering off to a group of older girls, and what could she say anyhow? It’s nice to meet you, too? You hardly even know me? No, none of that would do. With her head down, she trudged back to her dorm.

Lenore wasted no time in purging the events of her day: what Betsy studied, the other girls she’d met, what she thought of campus. “It’s wonderful, don’t you think it’s wonderful?” She cheered, flopping onto her back in an exhausted flourish.

Mildred perched on the corner of her still unmade bed. She nodded (not that Lenore could see).

“Yes,” Mildred breathed, “wonderful.”

[multifandomfix]

Betsy Bucket

Edmund Tolleson

Gwendolyn Briggs

Lenore Osgood

Mildred Ratched

Imagine Mildred getting possessive of you.

Imagine Mildred inviting you to the beach with her.

Mildred/Gwendolyn/Reader

Preferences

First Time Having Sex With Them

How They Act When They’re Jealous

How They Cuddle

Kinks

[illuminans]

imagine lenore osgood being played by jessica lange tho?????? iconic. 

[aion-rsa]

Ratched: Sarah Paulson Steps Into Her Power

https://ift.tt/2EBkVrG

At this point, it’s no surprise when Sarah Paulson signs on to a Ryan Murphy production. The actress calls him her “greatest champion,” and he’s known for working repeatedly with the same stable of actors. Paulson is a clear talent, a name that has come to signify a show is “prestige” by her mere presence. But with Ratched, Paulson steps up in a new way, as an executive producer with decision-making power and as the titular character who carries the series, rather than a member of an ensemble cast.

During a virtual press conference about the show, Paulson opened up about her hesitations with making that leap, working with Ryan Murphy in a new context, and “stepping into her power.”

Paulson says she was “terrified” to step up in large part due to her lack of experience.

“I’d never played a titular character before. I had never owned a piece of a show before. I’d never been executive producer of a show before.”

But she says Murphy, who created the show and directed the first two episodes, was insistent.

“He was very, very interested in empowering me in this way that I had never experienced before, even in the traditional structure of working with him,” she says. “What he would say to me, over and over again, was ‘Step into your power. Step into your power.’ And it literally makes me want to take a hot shower and run, screaming, into the street, to think about stepping into my power because I don’t really know what that means. But he does, and he would like me to do more of it.”

Paulson knows how rare it is for that kind of power sharing to happen on set, and she’s not the only one. Sharon Stone, who plays the wealthy and dangerous Lenore Osgood, reflected about the gender dynamic she normally experienced throughout her career.

“When I started working, it was me and 300 men. Even my dresser was a man. So, to come to work and have women cameramen and sound people and in every department,” Stone says. “I can do really strong work because I’ve worked with all these really big actors, and I didn’t have this opportunity to work in these fine, subtle, intimate, layered, tender work of women and to be in the company of women.”

Stone, who doesn’t usually work in television where it’s the norm to have multiple directors and scripts aren’t necessarily complete before filming starts, gushed about Paulson’s skill as an executive producer to keep track of the chaotic nature of the shoot.

“In my generation, I wasn’t afforded this possibility,” Stone says. “To watch Sarahhave this… It’s just so touching to me. It’s so meaningful to me. And that this man is doing this for women, that’s what Ryan Murphy says to me.”

The fact is that women in power behind the scenes is still incredibly rare. According to a 2020 report from The Center for the Study of Women in Television and Film, women account for only 31% of people working in key behind-the scenes positions in television, such as creators, directors, writers, producers, executive producers, editors, and directors of photography. It’s not hard to imagine the pressure that adds to the women who do hold those roles, something Paulson confronted with this project.

“It was a kind of interesting thing to confront my hesitation and to deal with all of those moments of ‘What does that look like for me?’ and ‘Am I capable? Am I ready? Do I want it? What does it mean if I do? Is that ambition?’”

Read more

TV

Ratched Ending Explained

By Delia Harrington

Given what women face in the industry, a measure of imposter syndrome seems not only normal, but a rational response to so many signals saying you’re not good enough. Indeed, Paulson’s response resonated with castmate Sophie Okonedo, who plays Charlotte Wells, a patient with Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly called Multiple Personality Disorder.)

“Sarah, when you said about the kind of complication you felt inside about stepping into your power, and I just thought, ‘I’m so happy to hear that you feel conflicted about that,’” Okonedo says. “To be able to sort of be publicly saying, ‘I have conflict inside me,’ is so refreshing.”

Paulson shared her experience working with Murphy as an executive producer, which took a little while for them to find a rhythm. Paulson says Murphy sent her cuts with his edits, looking for her input, and after her initial hesitation, she sent pages and pages of emails with notes.

“He said, ‘Okay, listen. Here’s the deal. You get to watch them before I get my first look at them, because then I start thinking about having to break all this shit down that I’ve already decided. And now I don’t know what to…’ So then I started getting the edits first,” Paulson says.

There’s still a long way to go before the levers of power reflect the rest of the industry or ever our world, but absolute forces like Paulson stepping into their power and being open about what that looks like surely feels like an important step. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“It was an interesting experience to think beyond my own narrow view of just my own performance and think about the show as a whole and what the story was.”

The post Ratched: Sarah Paulson Steps Into Her Power appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[ververa]

heeello, I have a request!! Can you write a Leonore Osgood x Reader where the reader is her seamstress? ✨💗Something where Leonore starts to order more dresses as an excuse to see her more often and flirts with her at every good opportunity. I think Leonore is a very confident woman, so she may have taken the initiative to kiss the reader as soon as she thought she had a chance, not being able to withstand a rejection

thank you and sorry if I made mistakes, I'm not very good at writing in english :/

ps. I love your blog💖

“Beyond The Wildest Dreams”

A/N: Thank you so much for this request!!! I had a lot of fun writing it 🤗😅 It's longer than I intended and it's only a few of all the ideas I had for this fic 🙈 So, I actually may write a 2nd part or since I have a few requests for Lenore I may combine them

Anyways I kinda feel like it's not exactly what you wanted, but I hope you will enjoy it!! 😇

Also many thanks to @misssmephisto who always supports me and who helped me a lot with this fic!!! 💜💖💜💖💜

Lenore Osgood x fem!reader

Word count: ~5k

The moment you saw Lenore Osgoode for the first time the whole world simply stopped existing. People around you, models, photographers, former and possibly new clients, even your nervousness - caused by the very first fashion show of yours, was long forgotten, as you watched the gorgeous blonde taking a seat at the audience, right in the first row. She didn't quite fit with the rest. She was fabulous.  No other in the room stood a chance with her. Self confidence radiated from every fibre of her body, not to mention that one look was enough to tell she was an enthusiast of refined style. She was with no doubt upper class. Her outfit itself indicated that she was one of those filthy rich people. Normally you tried to stay away from them, not feeling well in their company, yet this one time you were ready to make an exception. Who could ever blame you? Lenore truly distinguished herself and looked absolutely stunning dressed in a long, red dress and a mink coat. 

She was beautiful and tall - you could put on her whatever you would want to and it would drape perfectly, only adding to her captivating charm. But clothes were more than that - for you at least. It wasn’t just about materials draping nicely or the person looking good. You considered clothes to be a person’s second skin. A layer supposed to not only cover all the imperfections, but also hide their dark secrets and sins, at the same time giving out a hint of their attitude. And that particular approach of yours combined with your skills made you an exceptional designer and  a wonderful seamstress. On the other hand though, it made you misunderstood by many people - especially your fellows - which seemed to be the dark, less nice side of your profession, but you didn’t care about it at all. You were too busy, positively bedeviled with work, to spare your precious time to think about it.

As your eyes set on Lenore you immediately knew that you wanted nothing more, but to dress her up in all the finest materials you could get. Tailor her clothes to fit whatever was her guilt, to match the darkest parts of her soul. You looked her up and down, for what felt like a hundredth time that evening, and still you couldn’t get enough. You were ready and highly likely to come up with yet another project just like that. You knew for sure it would be something different. It had to be special, exclusive, hand-selected, designed just for her and as spectacular as the woman appeared to be.

The images of Lenore in taffeta and silk kept crossing your vivid imagination. You were just having some debate with yourself on what colour would suit her best, though much to your dismay you were brought back to reality by one of the assistants working there with you.

“Miss Y/L/N, we have a little problem backstage”

You turned towards the young man, resigning from watching the blonde and reluctantly giving your full attention to the man. 

“I’m coming” you nodded and - after glancing at Lenore one more time - you followed him to find out what kind of problem he was talking about.

~~~~

Lenore sat and watched, but she didn’t even bother to pretend she was interested. She had a sense that being there was just a waste of time. And as a worldly woman that she beyond any doubt was - she hated wasting her time, especially in places like that.  Shabby and tasteless. Full of inelegant, crude people who tended to get above themselves way too often, while in reality they had absolutely no idea what true sophistication and fashionability were. They came there to watch the show, but it had nothing to do with them being interested in fashion. It was just another way of exposing their self-importance. Lenore knew it better than anyone, but that was all right with her. She used to be like them too, though she no longer needed to prove anything to anyone. That's why for her being there was more like a torture.

If it hadn’t been for her impulsive and capricious decision to fire her tailor she wouldn’t even think of attending such a ridiculous event like a fashion show in a small, prospectless town. What could she possibly see there? Nothing. Those were simple people, not accustomed with high standards and clearly not ready for any fashion revolutions. Lenore hadn’t expected anything spectacular. There was no use in getting her hopes up, since she was there only because she needed a new seamstress. Enjoying the show was far from probable and she was well aware of it. Yet she went and stayed there. Fairly sick to death, but determined, hoping that if she put up with all the inconveniences, she would manage to find what she was looking for. 

Cheap clothes and shoddy jewellery - was all she got to see for the first hour or so and that was enough to drive her crazy. Lenore wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Those people's taste or rather lack of it - cried to heaven. Calling something like that a fashion show appeared to be some barbarous jape. And at that point Lenore was fed up and ready to leave. It was so naive of her to envisage witnessing something groundbreaking, but there was still one more line of clothes supposed to be walked out - and that was it. A real breakthrough. Something out of the ordinary. Something that Lenore wanted, but didn’t know it before.

She watched - suddenly interested in everything that was happening on the runway. Models walked down one after the other, then disappeared, but each one of them - presenting another outfit, left Lenore even more astonished than the previous one. 

Lenore Osgood had always been a material girl, but she felt no remorse about it. Clothes were her own kind of cakes and ale and she felt no shame choosing the perfect fabrics and jewelry that would suit her fancy, after all she had enough money to afford whatever she desired.

At that point all she wanted was that one particular line of clothes. The show wasn’t over yet, but Lenore already knew she was going to be the one to buy all those outfits. She kept waiting though - well aware that the last outfit was supposed to be the most extraordinary one. However she didn’t get to see it, as instead of the last model some man appeared on the runway - informing there was going to be a short break, because they had some problem. 

Lenore huffed. She had never been a patient person and so - obviously - she wasn’t going to wait like others.The heiress stood up, flicked her long coat and not paying any attention to people - who intently observed her every move, not even trying to be discreet- she headed out to the backstage. She couldn’t care less about the rules or the fact that unauthorized people weren’t allowed there. It did not apply to her - that was how Lenore perceived every prohibition she encountered. She had never been the one to care much for the commonly accepted norms. She simply did what she pleased, completely unbothered by the possible consequences. Even more so at that moment - she just needed to meet the designer face to face. After all it didn’t happen often that someone managed to captivate her like that.

How surprised she was when instead of a man - as she incorrectly assumed the artist to be a male - her eyes set on you - a young woman. That’s when her amazement doubled. 

At first Lenore stopped, slightly confused. She didn't speak up immediately. You weren’t there alone and she couldn't interrupt you and deprive herself of the opportunity to watch you working.

Some young, very tall and skinny woman stood there next to you. Lenore figured it must have been the model, supposed to walk down the runway as the last one. Lenore examined the woman’s body and immediately noticed that the dress she was wearing did not quite fit her - that was the problem apparently.

Lenore stood a few meters away. Not too far, so that she could see what you were doing, but still not close enough for you to notice her presence.

The blonde observed how your hand reached for some pins and then how you put a few of them in your mouth.

"I'm sorry, Y/N" the model said, sobbing

"Please, stop apologizing. Everything is alright" you mumbled, not really able to speak, because of the pins you kept between your lips.

"I destroyed the dress..."

"You didn't destroy anything. Now calm down and let me fix this little malfunction" you said, crouching behind the girl.

You took a seam ripper in one hand and held the fabric of the dress with the other. Normally seam rippers were used to help with occasional mistakes, but you were prone to experimenting with different sewing tools. Necessity is the mother of invention - you often said. And just like that, in one swift move you ripped one of the seams - only to pin it back together with pins within seconds. Except after that little operation of yours the dress became a bit looser. Not too excessively, but just enough to fit the model. 

“See? It’s fixed.” you said, proudly looking at the result of your work and zipping the dress “Now, stop crying. There’s no need to cry” you reassured.

“But I couldn’t put it on…”

“Because it was too small”

“Exactly… I-I… I need to lose weight” she said in a breaking voice.

“No” you shook your head “Clothes are supposed to fit you, not the other way. Now go”

The woman nodded and rushed out, passing by next to Lenore, who was standing there with a cigarette in her hand - shamelessly checking you out.

“I must say, that was very impressive” the heiress stated, thereby making you aware of her presence.

You quickly turned around and were instantly met by the blue eyes and probably one of the most entrancing smiles you had ever seen. There she was. One and only Lenore Osgood in the flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp - she looked even better up close.

“I… Umm… Can I help you, madam?” you asked, internally scolding yourself for taking so long to say anything.

“Actually, you can, darling”

“I’m listening” you said, trying to act as natural as possible, despite the fact the nickname she used made your heart skip a beat.

Lenore pulled at her cigarette, then smiled - obviously pleased with your answer.

“You are the one who designed those close” she stated, but with a hint of uncertainty. 

“That’s right” 

“Well then, allow me to felicitate you. It was a wonderful show - the last part at least” she stated, rolling her eyes as she remembered how sorely dull the beginning of the event was.

“Thank you” you beamed at her words.

“You are welcome, darling” her smile got even wider - making you wonder if she realized what effect that goddamn nickname had on you.

“Now, let’s say I have an offer for you. What would you say if I asked you to work for me?” she continued.

How could you say no to her? You would most likely be out of your mind if you had denied such a proposal. Her invitation was one of those you could not and definitely did not want to decline. How could you do it after she bought all the outfits from your new collection - paying even more than they were actually worth. Not to mention that working for her was what you dreamed about ever since you saw her.

That's how you found yourself standing at the door of Lenore's mansion the very next day. She wanted to know what other ideas you had and see different projects of yours, so you took your binder and sewing planner with you. As you nervously waited for someone to open and let you in, you held the items tight, pressing them to your chest - as if they were some precious treasure.

"Miss Y/L/N? Come in, Ms Osgood is waiting for you" an older woman informed, as she led you inside.

You followed, looking around - taking in every detail of the house interior and trying to memorize it. You always held to a particular belief of the house being the image of its owner's soul. Some people found it ridiculous, but in that case it was true. Lenore's house was as superior, noble and remarkable as the heiress herself.

"Y/N!" the blonde called and you turned round. You immediately stopped, when you caught the sight of her.

Lenore was slowly descending the stairs - looking as gracefully as ever. You smiled to yourself, when you realized she was wearing one of the outfits that you created. You had never felt such joy and pride seeing your previous clients wearing something that you designed. But to be fair, none of them radiated with such regality as Lenore. No one could ever match her dignity or a sense of majesty, and apparently that was what made your projects look even more exquisite.

"Is it alright if I call you by your name, dear?" Lenore asked, stopping for a moment to allow her little monkey jump from her shoulder to the shoulder of the woman who let you in.

"If I'm allowed to call you by yours" you smiled.

"Absolutely, darling" the blonde said enthusiastically, as she moved towards you. A smirk appeared on her face, indicating that she did not miss the way you blushed at the nickname. "Let's sit down, shall we?" she suggested, pointing to a spacious room, where a white sofa and armchairs stood.

You nodded, as you moved to sit in one of the armchairs.

"Would you like something to drink, Y/N?" Lenore asked.

"Just a glass of water, please"

"Darce! Bring Y/N a glass of water" she ordered, clicking her fingers.

You shifted in the armchair. The woman in front of you made you feel nervous for some reason, but you tried to act professional.

"You wanted to see my projects, so I brought my binder…" you said, a bit hesitant.

"Wonderful!” she exclaimed, grinning “May I?" she asked, as she reached out for the item.

"Of course" you passed her the binder and then observed, as she intently studied each page.

"Your water, Miss Y/L/N" the older woman said, handing you the glass.

"Thank you" you smiled, carefully taking the vessel from her.

"What a talent and creativity!" Lenore praised, glancing at you with a smirk on her face, not paying attention to the other woman.

You smiled, taking a sip of the water - hoping it would actually help with calming your nerves.

Lenore spent almost an hour on deciding which of your projects she would like to get. She obviously liked them all, but she needed her clothes to be different. She needed them to be extraordinary, fancy and expensive. And so you suggested creating something just for her.

You were a hardworking person - used to staying up late to finish sewing different outfits. You always went all out and thereby made your clients satisfied, but with Lenore you wanted more. Making her satisfied simply didn't seem enough. You wanted to impress her, blow her away. Little did you know that the heiress already was spellbound - not only by your projects, but by you yourself.

Lenore had never met anyone who delighted her so much. Such manners, such a style and sophistication. Not to mention you were so extremely accomplished for your age. All that impressed her in a way, but also fascinated her. She was truly enchanted by you. No wonder. You had a peculiar background, attitude and approach to the real world. You were a rare sample and Lenore happened to like thinking of herself as a connoisseur. She liked uncommon things. That's why she desperately wanted to have a taste of that extraordinary, magical power that radiated from you. A taste of that particular thing that made you so special. Though before she decided to do anything, she needed to make sure you would not disapprove of her. Because rejection was something Lenore didn't take well.

Lenore figured out that taking things slow was a good thing to do. She decided to warm you up a little and make sure that she actually had a chance. She didn't want her intentions to be too obvious. Lenore had always been a little skeptical of displaying any sort of affection. She'd rather play around. Yet she couldn't deny it felt sort of different with you.

Lenore loved teasing you more than anything. You always seemed so stressed and flustered whenever you would come to her house to deliver yet another outfit - and she found it adorable.

~~~~

At first you would come to her house once a week. Each time bringing with you a different dress and a few of new projects for Lenore to have a look and either go with them or tell you what she would like you to change. She rarely wanted to make any adjustments though. Lenore appreciated all of your ideas - only occasionally asking you to make a particular outfit in different colour or use another kind of fabric than you had intended to at first, but she never criticised you. As a matter of fact, she was always praising you. Maybe even too excessively. She complimented basically everything about you - from your creativity and ideas to the way you dressed. It appeared that she knew exactly what to say to make you blush - of which she was not only aware, but also took pride in succeeding in doing it. However, as much as you loved it, you could not quite help all the worries that clouded in your head - when you began realizing that Lenore became someone more than just your client and boss.

It had been going on for months. You grew so used to spending time with her and designing clothes for her that at some point your life turned to be all about Lenore. Everything either reminded you of her or inspired you to make another outfit that would fit her and only her taste. Lenore and even her monkey became such a huge part of your life, that you couldn't picture yourself not doing all of the things  you were doing and you definitely could not stop thinking about Lenore. To say that it scared you would be an understatement. The realization of your true feelings made you freak out completely. So much so that you did not know what to do. So much so you couldn't act the way you used to before. That's why you decided to take a break - hoping it would help you distance yourself. 

You enforced your idea immediately - as instead of informing Lenore face to face, you called her.

"Ms Osgood, I need some time off for… personal reasons" you told her.

Lenore agreed of course, though that sudden phone call took her by surprise. She knew something wasn't quite alright, when you used her full name, but she didn't ask any questions.

She kept repeating everything that had happened the past week, yet she couldn't figure out what was actually going on. You had never taken time off before and the way you called whatever was happening - "personal reasons" caused her a lot of distress. What did that even mean? Were you in trouble? Was she supposed to do something? And why was she so worried about it?

At first Lenore tried to convince herself that she didn't really care. But she did. Her little game turned into something utterly different without her even realizing it. You turned out to be far more than just her seamstress and she appreciated you for more than only your brilliant mind or skills.

Lenore truly cared about you and missed you dearly. She missed your smile and seeing you blush at her compliments. She missed listening to you talking about your projects - so passionately. 

Lenore was a grown-up and experienced woman, however she had never felt the way she felt with you. With you everything was different, new. And whatever she desired at the very beginning changed.

While you locked yourself in your apartment and lost yourself in work - as an attempt to distance from her, Lenore kept thinking of all the ways she could get closer to you. She was so desperate, so lovesick that she - the great heiress was ready to beg, even bow before for you if that was what it took.

You didn't expect Lenore to turn up at your door. It had been three days, you were sure everything was on the right track and you would manage to cure yourself of your fascination. Though, the moment you opened the door and saw Lenore in all her glory, everything came right back to you. All your feelings hit you again - that time with doubled power.

"Lenore… w-what are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too, Y/N" she said, passing by you - not waiting for you to invite her inside.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. How could anyone be able to make you feel so weak and yet so empowered at the same time?

Lenore walked in, then looked around your apartment. It wasn't too big, but she had to admit it was classy - you perfectly combined living space with workspace. But your flat wasn't what interested her the most. The heiress turned round to face you and offered you a cocky smile, as she took in your form. Lenore was used to seeing you in various dresses and heels, though that day you looked completely different. You were not only barefoot, but also instead of a dress, you had a white shirt and denim overalls on. Your hair was put in a messy ponytail and a measuring tape was draped around your neck - signifying that you were working.

"So, how can I help you?" you asked, not looking at Lenore.

The blonde smiled. "I was just passing by and thought I'd check on you"

"Check on me?" you repeated, raising your eyes.

"Yes" Lenore said calmly "Would you mind if I stay here for some time?"

"I-" you were about to protest, but it was too late, since Lenore sat down on one of the chairs and lit her cigarette.

"So, have you managed to resolve those personal reasons of yours?"

"Not really, I guess" you said, watching Lenore cross her legs.

The way you stared at her body didn't go unnoticed. Lenore didn't miss how flustered you got either, but she said nothing. It wasn't the right time - not just yet.

You sighed, approaching a table on which you had different materials laid. You got back to work, trying to ignore Lenore's presence. It was hard to focus on anything though. It was impossible when she was sitting there and watching you, but you kept trying anyways.

Lenore didn't speak for a few minutes. She simply enjoyed the moment - the possibility of watching you work and being around you in general.

"Is this a new project?" she asked, dragging on her cigarette.

"Actually yes. It's going to be your dress for the party that you're attending next month"

"Oh. Well, it looks nice"

You laughed at her words.

"It doesn't look like anything yet"

"I'm sure it'll be wonderful. Every project of yours is, darling"

You looked at her, not able to contain the smile caused by her compliment.

And that smile was what motivated Lenore to make the first step. 

"You know, I was thinking about you for the past few days," she began, as you focused on pinning the fabric together again.

"They don't appreciate you enough. I mean those men you're working with. They're wasting your potential. You should work for your own brand and not for theirs"

"Well…" you were about to say something, but Lenore cut you off.

"And I figured out there are two ways I could help you in"

"Yeah?" you said, but still didn't pay much attention to her words.

"Yes" Lenore stubbed her cigarette and stood up, as she continued "I could either become some kind of your patroness. This is the first option, but personally I like the second one more" she explained, as she stopped on the opposite side of the table.

"What's the second option then?" you asked, reaching for yet another pin.

"Well" Lenore smiled. You were still so oblivious "I could be your sugar momma" 

"Shit!" you cursed, as you accidentally hurt your finger with the pin "W-what?" you choked, looking at her. Your eyes were wide open, as Lenore approached you and carefully took your hand in her own. She then slowly brought the finger you had just cut to her lips and kissed it.

"I said…"

"No. I k-know what you said… I… I just…" you stuttered, not able to form any coherent sentence.

"Which option do you like better, sweetheart?" she asked in a low voice.

"I…" you gasped, staring at her lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, so instead you leaned in and kissed her. You could feel how her lips formed a smirk and even though your eyes were shut at that point, you could see that damn sly smile.

"I was hoping you'd go with the second option" Lenore chuckled.

You wanted to respond to her words, but before you managed to regain the ability to think properly - Lenore lifted you up and made you sit on the table.

"Your dress…" you tried to protest, but were immediately cut off.

"I'd rather take you this time" Lenore said and captured your lips once again.

That definitely wasn't what you had expected when you accepted the job offer. You hadn't even dreamed about it. And even if you had, being so close to Lenore, feeling her warm hands on your body and her soft lips pressed against yours was beyond any wildest dreams you could ever have. 

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange, @natasha-danvers, @stopkillinglilyrabe, @welshdragonrawr, @saucy-sapphic, @yang12e, @xixxiixx, @pradababey

[ververa]

Omg still waiting for your Lenore Osgood fics and I will be patient no matter how long as it takes 😩💕

Hello there, thank you for being so patient!! 🥺💝 I can't promise anything, but I can tell you one thing, writing my BA has certainly helped me with the writers block 😉 Now I only need something to boost my imagination 😅