#mostmiserable

there's amusement written across her features at carol's comment, "it's true we don't know what you're thinking, but we do know how you have responded in the past to situations like this one."

her eyes are dazed as her mind goes through the clutter of the hive, collecting memories of it from past experiences like this one.

"you only win when i'm drunk you know." most of the games carol picked were ones that made her drink when she lost and she's sure it was because all of the rules in the games they played were ones that carol had to make up. still, she would play every time because she knew it was something that always made carol happy. that wasn't something just anyone was able to see in passing, it wasn't something helen would take for granted.

she had seen men hit on carol and while she might have been protective every now and then and hearing about her on dates with them might have bothered her. seeing the blonde with a woman that was clearly flirting with her made it impossible to bite back the jealousy that came out in her tone, that made her posture defensive even with the drink she had going through her system. it wasn't enough, but there was no point in getting to the point she didn't care where she could lean into her when it never went anywhere.

she hated doing tours with other talent on the other side of the country, especially when their events lead late into the night. when she had a feeling it would take longer than expected, she would try to slip out at some point, but it was the release of a major novel and there was no getting out of it tonight.

she let carol know ahead of time, giving her time to prepare for the fact that they wouldn't get to watch golden girls together, she hated missing it as much as the blonde did. it was something they bonded over when they first got together, it allowed them to get physically closer, carol would fall asleep on her before they were ever together.

helen made the decision to pack lingerie because of it, knowing it would ease the ache at least a little. after the long night, she took a shower, hated how quiet it was without carol there, missed the heat of her wife's body and wished the next morning would come so she could be on her flight.

after drying her hair, she slips into the lingerie and pulls it down more than it needs to go, taking a picture so a sliver of her nipple is exposed and carol still has something to imagine. her hand reached for the vibrator that she brought with her. she rarely used it, preferred to use her own hand so she could replicate carol's movements, but she wanted carol to hear it if she was still awake.

she never would have imagined that they would ever get to this point with each other, where shame wouldn't be evident on carol's face as she caught her wife with her hand between her thighs beneath the drenched fabric of her underwear. there's only a look of amusement on her face, she's always curious what inspires it and knows how carol's sex drive is - she loved that it matched her own more times than not.

the first time it happened, she remembered the blonde pretending she was only scratching at her thigh, but she could see her trembling. it took everything to convince carol she was fine with it, that she wasn't jealous, that she could always tell her when she needed to be taken care of and when she wanted her own hand. the truth was she loved it, she loved watching her wife work herself up and when she'd lay next to her, she could see just how bad she needed to fulfill that urge.

there's always desperation leaking out of carol even if it is for herself, she doesn't stop her, only walks to the end of the bed and reaches for her knee spreading the blonde further apart. she could feel her own core throbbing at the sight of it, building up, but this wasn't about her and she wouldn't let it be until her wife was taken care of. carol deserved that, to come first, in every sense of the word.

"don't stop. keep going and i'll touch you after." she wanted to watch her come undone at her own hand, she didn't fear that it would be better than her own, just different and that may be what her wife needs.

jenny just knew that carol hid behind beautiful world building and scenery to makeup for the lack of connection she had to the material she was writing. it was so sad to her, she was tired of biting her tongue (though it was rare for her, especially with carol) and needed to let the truth roam free. "look you can be jealous, but you don't need to be a liar too, carol. it's tacky."

she lit a cigarette as she took a step outside and watched as carol continued to follow her, how typical, she couldn't stay away. "i think you're a little bored with your own writing, stuck in a fantasy world because you're too afraid to deal with your own reality." she'd been in her shoes, maybe if carol bothered to flip through the pages, she would get that jenny had been there too, though carol doesn't look like the type to go through any phases with men.

moments like these were some of helen's favorites, much to carol's dismay. carol was independent to a fault, rarely accepting help when she needed it. helen would only let her get away with it for so long before she did something, calling her out about her whining or before she took matters into her own hands.

as her agent, she gave her the tools and advice she needed to get the audience to respond to her: heels, makeup, dresses and anything that qualified as feminine. as someone that loved her, she knew how uncomfortable carol was in it the whole time, it made her hate her job more than anything to put her in that position, even if she made sure it was carol's choice.