weemssapphic

[weemssapphic]

This smile... 😁🤌🤏

You have been Gwendolized!

Share this so the world can be Gwendolized too.🤍🪻

[weemssapphic]

would you be able to write for lucifer again? anything would be good!! i absolutely love the one you have written now!

Thank you 🥹 I definitely would write for Lucifer again (fuck Neil Gaiman, and I understand and respect anyone who doesn’t want to engage with any Lucifer content because of him. I however will still be engaging with fan-made content because Lucifer makes me happy and to show support for Gwendoline).

I was talking about this with a friend the other day, actually - the main reason I haven���t written more for them is because I feel like most of the really really good Lucifer fics I’ve read play fantastically upon religious elements and imagery, and I am someone who grew up void of any sort of traditional religious upbringing, so my own need to know everything and make the fic “perfect” kind of gets in the way of me writing more for them.

That being said, I am open to writing for them if inspiration strikes and I am opening my requests again sooooo if anyone had any ideas or specific requests they’d like for me to write……. you know where to find me 🥰

[weemssapphic]

Gwensday Brienne

I've been really excited to post this one. I hope you like it. x

@janewaykove @theswordmaiden @weemssapphic

[weemssapphic]

Hellooo, I had a request for another pregnant!Larissa story (,:

Hurt/comfort where Larissa is feeling super insecure because of the weight she’s gained during her pregnancy, and reader has to provide some much needed reassurance? They come home to find Riss crying because none of her clothes fit anymore. She tries not to let her thoughts affect her so badly, but it’s proving to be difficult when nothing covers her growing belly and her emotions are wracked.

You can include anything else you’d like! 🥰

Hiya, thank you sm for the request :') there are never enough pregnant Larissa fics nor are there enough insecure Larissa fics, so this was an absolute joy to write! I hope you like it!! 🥰

like a light came on

Words: ~2.2k | ao3 link in title Tags/warnings: mention of eating disorders, body issues

Soft rays of morning light filtered in through the blinds, falling onto Larissa’s face and gently waking her a second time that morning. The first time it had still been dark, you’d gotten up for an appointment and insisted that Larissa stay in bed and catch up on sleep. You’d be home by 10:30 and you’d take her out to brunch then to make up for the lack of your usual morning snuggles ��� Larissa, exhausted from being up half the night, had fallen right back asleep.

Blinking groggily, she reached out and felt around her nightstand for her phone, squinting against the brightness of the screen as she checked the time — nearly 10, she’d better get up. There was a text message waiting from you, a “good morning, sweetheart” with so many emojis it would make anyone else sick to their stomach, but it made Larissa’s heart skip a beat. She knew you’d sent it while waiting for your appointment because she’d been so tired that morning she hadn’t even really felt your goodbye kiss as you’d left her in bed.

“Good morning” she texted back, deliberating between her most-used emojis before settling on the one with the two pink hearts — then adding it twice more, for emphasis. Placing her phone back on her nightstand, she sat up with a groan, her back aching, her hands automatically falling to her ever-growing baby bump. She had started to show recently and it fascinated her to no end — as much as she wanted a baby, she never thought she’d have one, let alone as her 30s came and went, and she often found herself crying in your arms about how grateful she was to have found you and to have been given the chance to start a family of her own.

Even though Larissa knew you wouldn’t be upset with her if you came home and she wasn’t ready to go, she still wanted to try and be on time for you, so she shuffled to the bathroom to brush her teeth and start her morning routine of skincare and makeup. She soon found herself standing in the walk-in closet, pulling a dress from a hanger: beige, modest, a bit stretchy — it had been serving her well in the last weeks. 

Though, annoyingly, her belly had grown so much since she’d last worn it that it seemed even the moderate stretch could no longer accommodate her baby bump. It was tight in all the wrong places, pulling awkwardly across her middle, and, when she tried to adjust it, she heard a little thread in the seam rip.

Larissa tried to laugh it off — was she finally at the point where she needed to look into buying proper maternity clothes? She’d put it off the past few weeks, some small but insistent part of her clinging onto the hope that her bump would stay small, that with a healthy diet she wouldn’t fall victim to the weight gain that was expected of women bearing children. How silly of her to think she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

She tried on another dress. She shouldn’t have, but she did. It had never been particularly stretchy, with a zipper on the side and a belt going round the front, but it was one of her favorite dresses, and she’d always felt confident and powerful whilst wearing it.

Except for today.

The zipper refused to budge past her hips and her fingers trembled slightly with frustration as she gave it a tug anyway, and then another, and another.

Well what the fuck was she supposed to wear? She wasn’t about to wear leggings out of the house. Rummaging around the back of the closet, she pulled out an old skirt that she hadn’t worn in years, but that had been a staple when she’d started out as principal at Nevermore. She paired it with a plain blouse, nothing special, it made her frown as she pulled it on but it would have to do. 

The sight that greeted her in the mirror made her want to cry, every negative thought she could possibly have about herself rushing to the surface. Her breasts had grown during the pregnancy, putting a strain on the buttons at the top of the blouse, and the skirt, while it technically fit, was never made to accommodate a baby bump, and the fabric bunched up beneath her belly in a way that made her look bigger than she’d ever seen herself, which also made it a bit shorter than it usually was. It pulled tightly around her ass and she couldn’t bring herself to try and sit down, thinking she’d lose it entirely if she heard another seam rip.

It was like a bad car accident — the darker her thoughts got, the harder it became to look away. The sunlight filtering in through the blinds had taken on a harsh quality, hitting her from the side, casting a shadow across the bit of her thighs that was visible beneath the hem of the skirt, each and every dimple of cellulite not only visible but magnified, until Larissa was certain that it was the first thing anyone would notice about her. 

The shadows also emphasized the dark circles under her eyes, visible even beneath her makeup, made worse during the pregnancy due to poor sleep. She looked old, too old to be a mother — what had she been thinking, getting pregnant in her forties? 

She felt sick to her stomach, clawing at the buttons of the blouse, tears starting to blur her vision and making it hard to get out of the offending garment. She was so lost in her own head that she didn’t hear your keys in the front door, nor did she hear the sound of you kicking your boots off in the hall — it was only when she heard your familiar voice call her name just outside the bedroom that she froze, her breath coming out in short pants as she realized she was standing in the middle of the room, clothing strewn about at her feet, her face streaked with tears.

“In here,” she called out shakily.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You knew something was wrong the moment you came home. Your wife had particularly keen hearing and was usually at the door to greet you before you even fully closed it behind yourself — even if she was in the middle of something, she always called out some sort of greeting. Today, though, the house was eerily still, the sound of your keys clattering in the bowl by the door almost deafening. 

“Riss?” you called out as you shrugged off your jacket.

Nothing.

A master of worst case scenarios, you made your way down the hall with your heart in your throat, stepping out of your boots as you went, kicking them to the side in a way that usually drove Larissa up the wall — but right now nothing mattered aside from making sure she was okay.

“Larissa?” you tried again as you approached the bedroom, pausing for a moment before entering, not wanting to interrupt her if she didn’t want you there. 

The sound of Larissa’s voice eased your nerves, but only a little — something was definitely off. You pushed open the door to the bedroom, feeling your heart crack in two as you saw the state your wife was in. 

“Rissa?” You rushed to her side, trying to keep the panic out of your voice, one arm winding around her waist as if by instinct, your free hand reaching up to cup her cheek, catching her tears with your thumb. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?”

Larissa suppressed a sob and nodded, sniffling a little, and you slowly guided her to the bed and sat her down at the edge, offering her a box of tissues from the nightstand, rubbing her back in soothing circles as she blew her nose. She paused, the used tissue crumpled in her hand, attempting to stand and go throw it away, but you plucked it from her palm and tossed it onto the nightstand, smiling involuntarily at Larissa’s frown.

“I’ll throw it away in a few minutes, I promise. You’re more important right now.”

“I’m fine,” Larissa said, sounding a bit congested, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t so worried about her.

“Larissa, you’re not fine. What happened?”

“It’s silly,” she retorted adamantly, though you could hear her voice waver again and you knew she wasn’t quite finished crying. You offered her another tissue and she started to sob into it. “N-nothing f-fits anymore,” she gasped out between sobs, and it finally clicked for you, all the clothes strewn across the floor, something that was very unlike your usually neat wife.

It seemed obvious now — she’d voiced concerns about gaining weight in the past, offhand remarks mostly, accompanied by an adamant refusal to visit the maternity section. You knew about her history with disordered eating, you knew it was in the past and that she was trying very hard to be “perfect” for the baby, but you also knew how great her need for control was, in every aspect of her life. 

Perhaps you’d been a bit naive in not seeing this coming but, to you, Larissa was perfect. Her body was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life, and the changes she was going through throughout her pregnancy were only making her more stunning in your eyes. 

It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that Larissa saw flaws in something that you found worthy of worship.

“Our baby’s getting big, huh?” You kept your voice soft and gentle, resting your hand on her bump.

Larissa scoffed, her voice broken, a mixture of exasperation and sadness. “It’s not just my stomach, it’s everything.” She sniffled, her face pained. “Even my bloody shoes feel tight…”

You tried to pull her into your arms, the angle and the fact that she was a bit taller than you making it a little awkward as she tried to bury her face into the crook of your neck, wailing “just look at me!” 

“Shh, come here,” you whispered, crawling back onto the bed and opening your arms to her. As she settled against you, you opened the buttons on the blouse to stop it from straining and helped her to shimmy the skirt off, an act which seemed to have a calming effect on her, as she was finally free of the restraining clothes. “There, just breathe for me…”

You waited until Larissa’s sobs had quieted down a bit, until her body was no longer trembling in your arms, until her tears had slowed, your arms wrapped protectively around her, your lips pressing firm, loving kisses to her temple.

“What your body is going through is normal, Rissa… you’re carrying a whole other person in there, and they need nutrition, and they need protection. It’s good that you’re gaining a little weight, for the baby, but it’s also okay to feel upset about it.”

“I just feel so big…” 

“Well, yeah, you’re bigger than you usually are, but you’re just as radiant as ever.” Larissa tried to scoff and bury her face in your hair, but you weren’t having any of it. “I’m dead serious, Larissa, look at yourself.” You let your hand trace her waist, down to her hips, your fingertips dancing across the stretch marks going up onto her belly and then stretching down towards her thighs, your eyes drinking her in. “You’re a goddess.”

“You’re biased,” came Larissa’s voice muffled against your skin.

“Absolutely not.” 

Larissa looked up from the crook of your neck, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with mascara. “What if I never lose the weight?” she whispered hoarsely. 

“Then,” you pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “You don’t. And you’ll still be the most gorgeous person in the world to me, because your beauty is too great to be defined by a number on a scale or some stretch marks. But how about we cross that bridge when we get there, hm? Let’s start with finding something for you to wear today?”

Larissa sniffled, reaching over you for another tissue to blow her nose and dab at the corner of her eyes with, her gaze darting to the mess of clothes strewn about the room. “Okay,” she mumbled with a hesitant nod. 

“What would you say to a little shopping trip?”

“What about brunch?” Larissa’s pout was so cute it made your heart clench.

“We can still go to brunch. Just after we’ve found you something beautiful to wear.”

“That’s not brunch, that’s just a late lunch,” Larissa replied, a hint of reproach in her voice that made you grin.

“True, but it tastes the same.”

Larissa looked as though she wanted to argue, her eyes darting between your own, before she finally let out a resigned huff, though her lips twitched up at the outer corners. “Fine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Taglist: @alexusonfire @pro-weems-places @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @fictionalized-lesbian @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @http-sam @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @niceminipotato @thevillagegay @barbarasstar @jadewolf22 @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @lilfartbox1 @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @daydream-cement @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @ilovetlcc @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @gwens0girl @larissa-weems-chokehold @makemyworldworthliving @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @nightingalespen

[weemssapphic]

The best advice i can give any creator is do it before you're good at it, do it BEFORE you're happy, do it while you suck, do it while you're doubting yourself and get stuck the fuck in, because waiting around to be "good enough" is a motherfucking trap of the highest degree. You'll get good along the way and better after ever project is complete. Remember, this is the greatest thing you've ever created, and then you'll do something else. You're only ever gonna get better, but not if you stand still.

[weemssapphic]

THE NANNY (1993-1999)

2x07 | "A Star Is Unborn"

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she's so in love still

[weemssapphic]

Art by: galactixy_illustrations on Instagram

[weemssapphic]

Knights exist to be pampered (and occasionally taunted) service/subby tops for their royals,, I will be taking no questions on this matter

[weemssapphic]

Hellooo, I had a request for another pregnant!Larissa story (,:

Hurt/comfort where Larissa is feeling super insecure because of the weight she’s gained during her pregnancy, and reader has to provide some much needed reassurance? They come home to find Riss crying because none of her clothes fit anymore. She tries not to let her thoughts affect her so badly, but it’s proving to be difficult when nothing covers her growing belly and her emotions are wracked.

You can include anything else you’d like! 🥰

Hiya, thank you sm for the request :') there are never enough pregnant Larissa fics nor are there enough insecure Larissa fics, so this was an absolute joy to write! I hope you like it!! 🥰

like a light came on

Words: ~2.2k | ao3 link in title Tags/warnings: mention of eating disorders, body issues

Soft rays of morning light filtered in through the blinds, falling onto Larissa’s face and gently waking her a second time that morning. The first time it had still been dark, you’d gotten up for an appointment and insisted that Larissa stay in bed and catch up on sleep. You’d be home by 10:30 and you’d take her out to brunch then to make up for the lack of your usual morning snuggles — Larissa, exhausted from being up half the night, had fallen right back asleep.

Blinking groggily, she reached out and felt around her nightstand for her phone, squinting against the brightness of the screen as she checked the time — nearly 10, she’d better get up. There was a text message waiting from you, a “good morning, sweetheart” with so many emojis it would make anyone else sick to their stomach, but it made Larissa’s heart skip a beat. She knew you’d sent it while waiting for your appointment because she’d been so tired that morning she hadn’t even really felt your goodbye kiss as you’d left her in bed.

“Good morning” she texted back, deliberating between her most-used emojis before settling on the one with the two pink hearts — then adding it twice more, for emphasis. Placing her phone back on her nightstand, she sat up with a groan, her back aching, her hands automatically falling to her ever-growing baby bump. She had started to show recently and it fascinated her to no end — as much as she wanted a baby, she never thought she’d have one, let alone as her 30s came and went, and she often found herself crying in your arms about how grateful she was to have found you and to have been given the chance to start a family of her own.

Even though Larissa knew you wouldn’t be upset with her if you came home and she wasn’t ready to go, she still wanted to try and be on time for you, so she shuffled to the bathroom to brush her teeth and start her morning routine of skincare and makeup. She soon found herself standing in the walk-in closet, pulling a dress from a hanger: beige, modest, a bit stretchy — it had been serving her well in the last weeks. 

Though, annoyingly, her belly had grown so much since she’d last worn it that it seemed even the moderate stretch could no longer accommodate her baby bump. It was tight in all the wrong places, pulling awkwardly across her middle, and, when she tried to adjust it, she heard a little thread in the seam rip.

Larissa tried to laugh it off — was she finally at the point where she needed to look into buying proper maternity clothes? She’d put it off the past few weeks, some small but insistent part of her clinging onto the hope that her bump would stay small, that with a healthy diet she wouldn’t fall victim to the weight gain that was expected of women bearing children. How silly of her to think she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

She tried on another dress. She shouldn’t have, but she did. It had never been particularly stretchy, with a zipper on the side and a belt going round the front, but it was one of her favorite dresses, and she’d always felt confident and powerful whilst wearing it.

Except for today.

The zipper refused to budge past her hips and her fingers trembled slightly with frustration as she gave it a tug anyway, and then another, and another.

Well what the fuck was she supposed to wear? She wasn’t about to wear leggings out of the house. Rummaging around the back of the closet, she pulled out an old skirt that she hadn’t worn in years, but that had been a staple when she’d started out as principal at Nevermore. She paired it with a plain blouse, nothing special, it made her frown as she pulled it on but it would have to do. 

The sight that greeted her in the mirror made her want to cry, every negative thought she could possibly have about herself rushing to the surface. Her breasts had grown during the pregnancy, putting a strain on the buttons at the top of the blouse, and the skirt, while it technically fit, was never made to accommodate a baby bump, and the fabric bunched up beneath her belly in a way that made her look bigger than she’d ever seen herself, which also made it a bit shorter than it usually was. It pulled tightly around her ass and she couldn’t bring herself to try and sit down, thinking she’d lose it entirely if she heard another seam rip.

It was like a bad car accident — the darker her thoughts got, the harder it became to look away. The sunlight filtering in through the blinds had taken on a harsh quality, hitting her from the side, casting a shadow across the bit of her thighs that was visible beneath the hem of the skirt, each and every dimple of cellulite not only visible but magnified, until Larissa was certain that it was the first thing anyone would notice about her. 

The shadows also emphasized the dark circles under her eyes, visible even beneath her makeup, made worse during the pregnancy due to poor sleep. She looked old, too old to be a mother — what had she been thinking, getting pregnant in her forties? 

She felt sick to her stomach, clawing at the buttons of the blouse, tears starting to blur her vision and making it hard to get out of the offending garment. She was so lost in her own head that she didn’t hear your keys in the front door, nor did she hear the sound of you kicking your boots off in the hall — it was only when she heard your familiar voice call her name just outside the bedroom that she froze, her breath coming out in short pants as she realized she was standing in the middle of the room, clothing strewn about at her feet, her face streaked with tears.

“In here,” she called out shakily.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You knew something was wrong the moment you came home. Your wife had particularly keen hearing and was usually at the door to greet you before you even fully closed it behind yourself — even if she was in the middle of something, she always called out some sort of greeting. Today, though, the house was eerily still, the sound of your keys clattering in the bowl by the door almost deafening. 

“Riss?” you called out as you shrugged off your jacket.

Nothing.

A master of worst case scenarios, you made your way down the hall with your heart in your throat, stepping out of your boots as you went, kicking them to the side in a way that usually drove Larissa up the wall — but right now nothing mattered aside from making sure she was okay.

“Larissa?” you tried again as you approached the bedroom, pausing for a moment before entering, not wanting to interrupt her if she didn’t want you there. 

The sound of Larissa’s voice eased your nerves, but only a little — something was definitely off. You pushed open the door to the bedroom, feeling your heart crack in two as you saw the state your wife was in. 

“Rissa?” You rushed to her side, trying to keep the panic out of your voice, one arm winding around her waist as if by instinct, your free hand reaching up to cup her cheek, catching her tears with your thumb. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?”

Larissa suppressed a sob and nodded, sniffling a little, and you slowly guided her to the bed and sat her down at the edge, offering her a box of tissues from the nightstand, rubbing her back in soothing circles as she blew her nose. She paused, the used tissue crumpled in her hand, attempting to stand and go throw it away, but you plucked it from her palm and tossed it onto the nightstand, smiling involuntarily at Larissa’s frown.

“I’ll throw it away in a few minutes, I promise. You’re more important right now.”

“I’m fine,” Larissa said, sounding a bit congested, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t so worried about her.

“Larissa, you’re not fine. What happened?”

“It’s silly,” she retorted adamantly, though you could hear her voice waver again and you knew she wasn’t quite finished crying. You offered her another tissue and she started to sob into it. “N-nothing f-fits anymore,” she gasped out between sobs, and it finally clicked for you, all the clothes strewn across the floor, something that was very unlike your usually neat wife.

It seemed obvious now — she’d voiced concerns about gaining weight in the past, offhand remarks mostly, accompanied by an adamant refusal to visit the maternity section. You knew about her history with disordered eating, you knew it was in the past and that she was trying very hard to be “perfect” for the baby, but you also knew how great her need for control was, in every aspect of her life. 

Perhaps you’d been a bit naive in not seeing this coming but, to you, Larissa was perfect. Her body was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life, and the changes she was going through throughout her pregnancy were only making her more stunning in your eyes. 

It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that Larissa saw flaws in something that you found worthy of worship.

“Our baby’s getting big, huh?” You kept your voice soft and gentle, resting your hand on her bump.

Larissa scoffed, her voice broken, a mixture of exasperation and sadness. “It’s not just my stomach, it’s everything.” She sniffled, her face pained. “Even my bloody shoes feel tight…”

You tried to pull her into your arms, the angle and the fact that she was a bit taller than you making it a little awkward as she tried to bury her face into the crook of your neck, wailing “just look at me!” 

“Shh, come here,” you whispered, crawling back onto the bed and opening your arms to her. As she settled against you, you opened the buttons on the blouse to stop it from straining and helped her to shimmy the skirt off, an act which seemed to have a calming effect on her, as she was finally free of the restraining clothes. “There, just breathe for me…”

You waited until Larissa’s sobs had quieted down a bit, until her body was no longer trembling in your arms, until her tears had slowed, your arms wrapped protectively around her, your lips pressing firm, loving kisses to her temple.

“What your body is going through is normal, Rissa… you’re carrying a whole other person in there, and they need nutrition, and they need protection. It’s good that you’re gaining a little weight, for the baby, but it’s also okay to feel upset about it.”

“I just feel so big…” 

“Well, yeah, you’re bigger than you usually are, but you’re just as radiant as ever.” Larissa tried to scoff and bury her face in your hair, but you weren’t having any of it. “I’m dead serious, Larissa, look at yourself.” You let your hand trace her waist, down to her hips, your fingertips dancing across the stretch marks going up onto her belly and then stretching down towards her thighs, your eyes drinking her in. “You’re a goddess.”

“You’re biased,” came Larissa’s voice muffled against your skin.

“Absolutely not.” 

Larissa looked up from the crook of your neck, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with mascara. “What if I never lose the weight?” she whispered hoarsely. 

“Then,” you pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “You don’t. And you’ll still be the most gorgeous person in the world to me, because your beauty is too great to be defined by a number on a scale or some stretch marks. But how about we cross that bridge when we get there, hm? Let’s start with finding something for you to wear today?”

Larissa sniffled, reaching over you for another tissue to blow her nose and dab at the corner of her eyes with, her gaze darting to the mess of clothes strewn about the room. “Okay,” she mumbled with a hesitant nod. 

“What would you say to a little shopping trip?”

“What about brunch?” Larissa’s pout was so cute it made your heart clench.

“We can still go to brunch. Just after we’ve found you something beautiful to wear.”

“That’s not brunch, that’s just a late lunch,” Larissa replied, a hint of reproach in her voice that made you grin.

“True, but it tastes the same.”

Larissa looked as though she wanted to argue, her eyes darting between your own, before she finally let out a resigned huff, though her lips twitched up at the outer corners. “Fine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Taglist: @alexusonfire @pro-weems-places @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @fictionalized-lesbian @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @http-sam @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @niceminipotato @thevillagegay @barbarasstar @jadewolf22 @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @lilfartbox1 @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @daydream-cement @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @ilovetlcc @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @gwens0girl @larissa-weems-chokehold @makemyworldworthliving @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @nightingalespen

[weemssapphic]

weemssapphic Taglist

As most of you may know, I already have a taglist. However, since I originally made that taglist (found in a Google form on my pinned post), some of y'all have changed usernames, perhaps some people haven't seen it, etc. Plus the Google form is kind of a bit harder to keep track of than just a tumblr post.

So I'm starting a new taglist on this post 🫶🏼 just go ahead and comment emojis for which characters you would like to be tagged in:

🌈 All Gwen characters 🍷 Larissa Weems 🗡️ Brienne of Tarth ⭐️ Captain Phasma 🚓 Miranda Hilmarson 🤍 Jane Murdstone 💄 Jan Stevens 🔥 Lucifer Morningstar 🐐 Lorne 🖤 Gwen (In Fabric)

I'm going to leave my current taglist as is, so if you are currently being tagged in my posts and are still okay with that, you don't need to comment, you'll still be tagged. If you'd like to be removed for whatever reason, shoot me a message and let me know!

Reblogs appreciated 🫶🏼

[weemssapphic]

i swear to god, trying to format things on tumblr only for them to be super wonky when you hit post is one of the most frustrating experiences

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Hellooo, I had a request for another pregnant!Larissa story (,:

Hurt/comfort where Larissa is feeling super insecure because of the weight she’s gained during her pregnancy, and reader has to provide some much needed reassurance? They come home to find Riss crying because none of her clothes fit anymore. She tries not to let her thoughts affect her so badly, but it’s proving to be difficult when nothing covers her growing belly and her emotions are wracked.

You can include anything else you’d like! 🥰

Hiya, thank you sm for the request :') there are never enough pregnant Larissa fics nor are there enough insecure Larissa fics, so this was an absolute joy to write! I hope you like it!! 🥰

like a light came on

Words: ~2.2k | ao3 link in title Tags/warnings: mention of eating disorders, body issues

Soft rays of morning light filtered in through the blinds, falling onto Larissa’s face and gently waking her a second time that morning. The first time it had still been dark, you’d gotten up for an appointment and insisted that Larissa stay in bed and catch up on sleep. You’d be home by 10:30 and you’d take her out to brunch then to make up for the lack of your usual morning snuggles — Larissa, exhausted from being up half the night, had fallen right back asleep.

Blinking groggily, she reached out and felt around her nightstand for her phone, squinting against the brightness of the screen as she checked the time — nearly 10, she’d better get up. There was a text message waiting from you, a “good morning, sweetheart” with so many emojis it would make anyone else sick to their stomach, but it made Larissa’s heart skip a beat. She knew you’d sent it while waiting for your appointment because she’d been so tired that morning she hadn’t even really felt your goodbye kiss as you’d left her in bed.

“Good morning” she texted back, deliberating between her most-used emojis before settling on the one with the two pink hearts — then adding it twice more, for emphasis. Placing her phone back on her nightstand, she sat up with a groan, her back aching, her hands automatically falling to her ever-growing baby bump. She had started to show recently and it fascinated her to no end — as much as she wanted a baby, she never thought she’d have one, let alone as her 30s came and went, and she often found herself crying in your arms about how grateful she was to have found you and to have been given the chance to start a family of her own.

Even though Larissa knew you wouldn’t be upset with her if you came home and she wasn’t ready to go, she still wanted to try and be on time for you, so she shuffled to the bathroom to brush her teeth and start her morning routine of skincare and makeup. She soon found herself standing in the walk-in closet, pulling a dress from a hanger: beige, modest, a bit stretchy — it had been serving her well in the last weeks. 

Though, annoyingly, her belly had grown so much since she’d last worn it that it seemed even the moderate stretch could no longer accommodate her baby bump. It was tight in all the wrong places, pulling awkwardly across her middle, and, when she tried to adjust it, she heard a little thread in the seam rip.

Larissa tried to laugh it off — was she finally at the point where she needed to look into buying proper maternity clothes? She’d put it off the past few weeks, some small but insistent part of her clinging onto the hope that her bump would stay small, that with a healthy diet she wouldn’t fall victim to the weight gain that was expected of women bearing children. How silly of her to think she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

She tried on another dress. She shouldn’t have, but she did. It had never been particularly stretchy, with a zipper on the side and a belt going round the front, but it was one of her favorite dresses, and she’d always felt confident and powerful whilst wearing it.

Except for today.

The zipper refused to budge past her hips and her fingers trembled slightly with frustration as she gave it a tug anyway, and then another, and another.

Well what the fuck was she supposed to wear? She wasn’t about to wear leggings out of the house. Rummaging around the back of the closet, she pulled out an old skirt that she hadn’t worn in years, but that had been a staple when she’d started out as principal at Nevermore. She paired it with a plain blouse, nothing special, it made her frown as she pulled it on but it would have to do. 

The sight that greeted her in the mirror made her want to cry, every negative thought she could possibly have about herself rushing to the surface. Her breasts had grown during the pregnancy, putting a strain on the buttons at the top of the blouse, and the skirt, while it technically fit, was never made to accommodate a baby bump, and the fabric bunched up beneath her belly in a way that made her look bigger than she’d ever seen herself, which also made it a bit shorter than it usually was. It pulled tightly around her ass and she couldn’t bring herself to try and sit down, thinking she’d lose it entirely if she heard another seam rip.

It was like a bad car accident — the darker her thoughts got, the harder it became to look away. The sunlight filtering in through the blinds had taken on a harsh quality, hitting her from the side, casting a shadow across the bit of her thighs that was visible beneath the hem of the skirt, each and every dimple of cellulite not only visible but magnified, until Larissa was certain that it was the first thing anyone would notice about her. 

The shadows also emphasized the dark circles under her eyes, visible even beneath her makeup, made worse during the pregnancy due to poor sleep. She looked old, too old to be a mother — what had she been thinking, getting pregnant in her forties? 

She felt sick to her stomach, clawing at the buttons of the blouse, tears starting to blur her vision and making it hard to get out of the offending garment. She was so lost in her own head that she didn’t hear your keys in the front door, nor did she hear the sound of you kicking your boots off in the hall — it was only when she heard your familiar voice call her name just outside the bedroom that she froze, her breath coming out in short pants as she realized she was standing in the middle of the room, clothing strewn about at her feet, her face streaked with tears.

“In here,” she called out shakily.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You knew something was wrong the moment you came home. Your wife had particularly keen hearing and was usually at the door to greet you before you even fully closed it behind yourself — even if she was in the middle of something, she always called out some sort of greeting. Today, though, the house was eerily still, the sound of your keys clattering in the bowl by the door almost deafening. 

“Riss?” you called out as you shrugged off your jacket.

Nothing.

A master of worst case scenarios, you made your way down the hall with your heart in your throat, stepping out of your boots as you went, kicking them to the side in a way that usually drove Larissa up the wall — but right now nothing mattered aside from making sure she was okay.

“Larissa?” you tried again as you approached the bedroom, pausing for a moment before entering, not wanting to interrupt her if she didn’t want you there. 

The sound of Larissa’s voice eased your nerves, but only a little — something was definitely off. You pushed open the door to the bedroom, feeling your heart crack in two as you saw the state your wife was in. 

“Rissa?” You rushed to her side, trying to keep the panic out of your voice, one arm winding around her waist as if by instinct, your free hand reaching up to cup her cheek, catching her tears with your thumb. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?”

Larissa suppressed a sob and nodded, sniffling a little, and you slowly guided her to the bed and sat her down at the edge, offering her a box of tissues from the nightstand, rubbing her back in soothing circles as she blew her nose. She paused, the used tissue crumpled in her hand, attempting to stand and go throw it away, but you plucked it from her palm and tossed it onto the nightstand, smiling involuntarily at Larissa’s frown.

“I’ll throw it away in a few minutes, I promise. You’re more important right now.”

“I’m fine,” Larissa said, sounding a bit congested, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t so worried about her.

“Larissa, you’re not fine. What happened?”

“It’s silly,” she retorted adamantly, though you could hear her voice waver again and you knew she wasn’t quite finished crying. You offered her another tissue and she started to sob into it. “N-nothing f-fits anymore,” she gasped out between sobs, and it finally clicked for you, all the clothes strewn across the floor, something that was very unlike your usually neat wife.

It seemed obvious now — she’d voiced concerns about gaining weight in the past, offhand remarks mostly, accompanied by an adamant refusal to visit the maternity section. You knew about her history with disordered eating, you knew it was in the past and that she was trying very hard to be “perfect” for the baby, but you also knew how great her need for control was, in every aspect of her life. 

Perhaps you’d been a bit naive in not seeing this coming but, to you, Larissa was perfect. Her body was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life, and the changes she was going through throughout her pregnancy were only making her more stunning in your eyes. 

It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that Larissa saw flaws in something that you found worthy of worship.

“Our baby’s getting big, huh?” You kept your voice soft and gentle, resting your hand on her bump.

Larissa scoffed, her voice broken, a mixture of exasperation and sadness. “It’s not just my stomach, it’s everything.” She sniffled, her face pained. “Even my bloody shoes feel tight…”

You tried to pull her into your arms, the angle and the fact that she was a bit taller than you making it a little awkward as she tried to bury her face into the crook of your neck, wailing “just look at me!” 

“Shh, come here,” you whispered, crawling back onto the bed and opening your arms to her. As she settled against you, you opened the buttons on the blouse to stop it from straining and helped her to shimmy the skirt off, an act which seemed to have a calming effect on her, as she was finally free of the restraining clothes. “There, just breathe for me…”

You waited until Larissa’s sobs had quieted down a bit, until her body was no longer trembling in your arms, until her tears had slowed, your arms wrapped protectively around her, your lips pressing firm, loving kisses to her temple.

“What your body is going through is normal, Rissa… you’re carrying a whole other person in there, and they need nutrition, and they need protection. It’s good that you’re gaining a little weight, for the baby, but it’s also okay to feel upset about it.”

“I just feel so big…” 

“Well, yeah, you’re bigger than you usually are, but you’re just as radiant as ever.” Larissa tried to scoff and bury her face in your hair, but you weren’t having any of it. “I’m dead serious, Larissa, look at yourself.” You let your hand trace her waist, down to her hips, your fingertips dancing across the stretch marks going up onto her belly and then stretching down towards her thighs, your eyes drinking her in. “You’re a goddess.”

“You’re biased,” came Larissa’s voice muffled against your skin.

“Absolutely not.” 

Larissa looked up from the crook of your neck, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with mascara. “What if I never lose the weight?” she whispered hoarsely. 

“Then,” you pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “You don’t. And you’ll still be the most gorgeous person in the world to me, because your beauty is too great to be defined by a number on a scale or some stretch marks. But how about we cross that bridge when we get there, hm? Let’s start with finding something for you to wear today?”

Larissa sniffled, reaching over you for another tissue to blow her nose and dab at the corner of her eyes with, her gaze darting to the mess of clothes strewn about the room. “Okay,” she mumbled with a hesitant nod. 

“What would you say to a little shopping trip?”

“What about brunch?” Larissa’s pout was so cute it made your heart clench.

“We can still go to brunch. Just after we’ve found you something beautiful to wear.”

“That’s not brunch, that’s just a late lunch,” Larissa replied, a hint of reproach in her voice that made you grin.

“True, but it tastes the same.”

Larissa looked as though she wanted to argue, her eyes darting between your own, before she finally let out a resigned huff, though her lips twitched up at the outer corners. “Fine.”

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Gwendoline Christie

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Too late to post this?

From my fanart account @laurafox_art

‘(Deep breath) Okay so I did draw this like a month ago. And then, while making bigger versions of the tinier art, I accidentally deleted the whole thing. I had to screenshot the progress video and then trace over it. I ended up losing all motivation for it after that but I vowed to myself to finish it and now I have.

You know what’s the saddest part, though? I liked the originals better 😭. Oh well, not much I can do about it. Enjoy Gwendoline’s beautiful self and her impeccable - as always - style and fashion.’

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↳ Alcina Dimitrescu’s Character Model Animated

[ source videos by CaptainCigar on yt ]