oh girls they (just wanna have fun)
Ann/Donna, Dionysus. 122 words. For femslash100.
The Snakehole flashes blue and green and Ann is starting to feel sick. “Donna, I–” she starts, leaning her head on her not-quite-friend’s shoulder. It’s the alcohol, she thinks, righting herself, overestimating and stumbling backwards.
“Whoa there,” Donna laughs, veering left to grab a shot glass from an unsuspecting waiter. She downs it, some of the liquid moistening her lips. And Ann wouldn’t care — doesn’t care — but she can’t look away, and Donna is staring at her like she’s grown a third ear in the middle of her forehead (people only have two ears, right?) and eventually settles on abandoning the empty shot glass to put a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “You sure you’re alright?” she asks, and Ann isn’t. Sure.
