scurvyknavery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scurvyknavery) wrote2009-10-10 10:10 pm
scurvyknavery) wrote2009-10-10 10:10 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: What Little Girls Are Made Of (Gossip Girl, Serena/Blair, PG)
Originally posted 12 October, 2007.
Title: What Little Girls Are Made Of
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Spoilers: Through 1.04, Bad News Blair
Word Count: 784
Pairing: Serena/Blair
Rating: PG
Summary: This is how it ends up happening. Because, in hindsight, of course it had to happen.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Blair's pretty sure that, deep down, she's an kind of an awful person.
Not just because she's mean to people like Dan Humphrey or makes tasteless jokes about people whose mothers aren't runway designers, but, you know, actually.
She's pretty sure she's an awful person, because of all the ways she's greedy.
Not for things, not for money, she's not - well, she does like shoes and the apartment and the trust fund, but that's not what she means. Blair just wants - she just wants, you know? She wants to be thinner. She wants to be taller, wants to be smarter, wants to be effortlessly composed instead of having to work for it. She wants to be Audrey Hepburn in six-inch heels and a Waldorf original.
More than anything, she wants to have something that Serena didn't give her.
Which is - look, she knows it's stupid and childish and petty, and that's why she's pretty sure she's going to hell, but she just can't not. She's tried. Tried to be grateful for the boyfriend who probably loved her, without thinking about the fact that he was only Blair's until Serena couldn't stop herself from taking what was always hers in the first place. Tried to be grateful for the mom who was usually sort of nice to her, without worrying about the way that most of the nice gestures came suggested by Serena. She tried to lean on her best friend and not worry about the way that so much of her life was balanced on one person, on all of the ways it could completely fall apart if she ever left. (And then she did.)
The point is, she's tried. And now here she is, letting Serena be her best friend while Serena tells her boyfriend to go back to her and Serena not-so-subtly suggests that her mom should make her the new Face of Waldorf, and in a way, it's really pretty fantastic. It almost makes her happy.
Except.
Except she can't stop wishing this was hers. Even now, while she tries to focus on enjoying herself and the camera and the beautiful thousand-dollar dresses that make her feel sexy and grown up with the way the silk brushes across her thighs. She wants - Blair can't not want, that's who she is - to be the girl who can laugh and let herself go and store this away later as a happy, carefree memory of herself and her best friend.
But all Blair can think about is the way she only feels fabulous and attractive and fierce when Serena's around to toss her hair and help her. And how much she wants that for herself.
Serena loves everything about Blair.
It's not gay or anything, it's just. Blair's the kind of girl who, once you see her - really see her, past the gossip and the girl she is on the street and the calculated person she is at parties - you love her. You want nice things for her.
Okay, maybe that's a little bit gay.
It's just that Serena wants Blair to be happy. She really does - she always has, even before Nate, but now it's more and more urgent because, well. Because it's her fault that she's not.
And nobody ever seems to understand that, besides Serena. That Blair deserves nice things, like a boyfriend and a modeling career and friends that listen to her, because there's so much that she's missing. And if nobody else can see that - can see Blair enough to give those things to her, well.
Serena's willing to do as much as she can.
+++
This is how it ends up happening. Because, in hindsight, of course it had to happen.
Serena's hand is cool against Blair's cheek, and she's twisting strands of her hair out of the bobby pins and around her fingers over and over, and for a long, long moment, Blair lets herself think about kissing her.
She won't, though.
She doesn't need to have one more thing that was Serena's to give.
Blair's skin is soft under Serena's hand and her lips are half-parted in that distracting way that only happens when Blair's not trying to make herself sexy. And she looks so different, somehow, from the way she used to look before Serena went and ruined everything. So lost.
Serena just wants her to be happy, and she doesn't even realize that she's thinking about kissing her until they're touching and kissing and pulling back, waiting in that space after the first kiss that turns into "this was a bad idea," or "do that again."
And Blair doesn't say no.
After all, it's not polite to refuse a gift.
Title: What Little Girls Are Made Of
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Spoilers: Through 1.04, Bad News Blair
Word Count: 784
Pairing: Serena/Blair
Rating: PG
Summary: This is how it ends up happening. Because, in hindsight, of course it had to happen.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Blair's pretty sure that, deep down, she's an kind of an awful person.
Not just because she's mean to people like Dan Humphrey or makes tasteless jokes about people whose mothers aren't runway designers, but, you know, actually.
She's pretty sure she's an awful person, because of all the ways she's greedy.
Not for things, not for money, she's not - well, she does like shoes and the apartment and the trust fund, but that's not what she means. Blair just wants - she just wants, you know? She wants to be thinner. She wants to be taller, wants to be smarter, wants to be effortlessly composed instead of having to work for it. She wants to be Audrey Hepburn in six-inch heels and a Waldorf original.
More than anything, she wants to have something that Serena didn't give her.
Which is - look, she knows it's stupid and childish and petty, and that's why she's pretty sure she's going to hell, but she just can't not. She's tried. Tried to be grateful for the boyfriend who probably loved her, without thinking about the fact that he was only Blair's until Serena couldn't stop herself from taking what was always hers in the first place. Tried to be grateful for the mom who was usually sort of nice to her, without worrying about the way that most of the nice gestures came suggested by Serena. She tried to lean on her best friend and not worry about the way that so much of her life was balanced on one person, on all of the ways it could completely fall apart if she ever left. (And then she did.)
The point is, she's tried. And now here she is, letting Serena be her best friend while Serena tells her boyfriend to go back to her and Serena not-so-subtly suggests that her mom should make her the new Face of Waldorf, and in a way, it's really pretty fantastic. It almost makes her happy.
Except.
Except she can't stop wishing this was hers. Even now, while she tries to focus on enjoying herself and the camera and the beautiful thousand-dollar dresses that make her feel sexy and grown up with the way the silk brushes across her thighs. She wants - Blair can't not want, that's who she is - to be the girl who can laugh and let herself go and store this away later as a happy, carefree memory of herself and her best friend.
But all Blair can think about is the way she only feels fabulous and attractive and fierce when Serena's around to toss her hair and help her. And how much she wants that for herself.
Serena loves everything about Blair.
It's not gay or anything, it's just. Blair's the kind of girl who, once you see her - really see her, past the gossip and the girl she is on the street and the calculated person she is at parties - you love her. You want nice things for her.
Okay, maybe that's a little bit gay.
It's just that Serena wants Blair to be happy. She really does - she always has, even before Nate, but now it's more and more urgent because, well. Because it's her fault that she's not.
And nobody ever seems to understand that, besides Serena. That Blair deserves nice things, like a boyfriend and a modeling career and friends that listen to her, because there's so much that she's missing. And if nobody else can see that - can see Blair enough to give those things to her, well.
Serena's willing to do as much as she can.
+++
This is how it ends up happening. Because, in hindsight, of course it had to happen.
Serena's hand is cool against Blair's cheek, and she's twisting strands of her hair out of the bobby pins and around her fingers over and over, and for a long, long moment, Blair lets herself think about kissing her.
She won't, though.
She doesn't need to have one more thing that was Serena's to give.
Blair's skin is soft under Serena's hand and her lips are half-parted in that distracting way that only happens when Blair's not trying to make herself sexy. And she looks so different, somehow, from the way she used to look before Serena went and ruined everything. So lost.
Serena just wants her to be happy, and she doesn't even realize that she's thinking about kissing her until they're touching and kissing and pulling back, waiting in that space after the first kiss that turns into "this was a bad idea," or "do that again."
And Blair doesn't say no.
After all, it's not polite to refuse a gift.