#i heard that trixie mattel might be there which is exciting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

And Not One Speck Will Remain (Trixya) - Oneshot - Pilandok

Trixie ponders on soulmates and the non-linearity of reincarnation. But that’s not the story.

AN: I haven’t written RPDR fic in a while. This is just something I felt like writing after watching DEW (2019), a Thai film, which is based on a Korean film. The soulmate-reincarnation concept I got from that. This isn’t much of story though. There’s a chance this would be a two-parter.

Part 4 of my oneshot collection in AO3.

When Katya first touched his hand, it delivered a jolt of something he couldn’t understand but was quite explicit. It was flashes of the Wisconsin forest and a clear country sky with stars you didn’t have to squint to see. The sensation of a boy holding his hand while they lie down in the grass. Trixie felt the trepid excitement of youth, like he was barely fifteen again. Katya flashed him a blue-white smile and Trixie imagined the stiff collar of a home-schooled teen that he always thought it belonged to.

Trixie froze, then recovered in a second. He wondered, why now? If there was anything he could need less right now is the memories of a dead boy haunting him. But that might be exactly what is causing this, the pressure of the drag competition is probably messing up his psyche.

Later, when it kept happening after the show has been fully wrapped, aired, and provided itself as a proverbial launchpad for his career, he began to think that it might be something else entirely.

Kim Chi knows the story of the boy. Relayed long-ago in the haze of post-gig exhaustion, counting change on a shared floor, wondering what product they could scavenge with it. Kim Chi never heard it again, filed under things that was too tragic to bring up, so when Trixie starts, remember when I told you about my first love? Kim Chi nods tentatively, no clever quip waiting.

Trixie is quiet for another movement, takes a deep breath, and starts over.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

No, Kim Chi doesn’t. Or maybe he does, he realizes that he never thought about it, not in the serious way that that Trixie’s eyes seem to be pleading right now.

“Sometimes,” Trixie begins again, her third start, “I think Katya is him.”

“That’s crazy,” Kim Chi replies before he can stop himself. He regrets it a little, but it is crazy. At least, a little too crazy for Trixie Mattel who was as much as a realist as he looks absurd in drag. Kim Chi recalls Trixie’s first love who was this bible-thumping, home-schooled neighbor that kisses him in secret.

“I know, I know. It doesn’t make sense, I mean Katya’s older than him. And they’re nothing alike,” Trixie rubs his scalp from the back of his head to the top, “except when they are. They smile the same and laugh the same and the way they get excited about things I don’t understand and there’s something about the way he holds my wrist. When he slides his thumb to press on the vein that’s popping out on the back of my hand.”

“Girl,” Kim Chi relaxes, oh he’s just in love with Katya.

“Maybe reincarnation doesn’t really work with linear time, you know. Or maybe it isn’t really a reincarnation thing but like a twin spirit thing. Oh god I need to read up on this shit.”

“Okay, now you’re sounding like Katya,” Kim Chi jokes, feeling that he can at this point.

Trixie smiles but doesn’t look at him.

“Kim, sometimes I have visions,” Trixie says, almost in a whisper.

“Visions?”

“When he touches me, I see things,” he sighs,”scenes from the past. From Wisconsin, from when I was fifteen. Memories of him.”

Kim Chi slumps back in his chair. He knows that Trixie went to him cause he’s probably the only one who’s more pragmatic than him. But if Trixie swears on something so absurd, what can he say to that?

Before they go their separate ways, Kim Chi tells Trixie “for your sake, I hope reincarnation is real.”

Trixie can only look back at him helplessly.

—

“How come I’ve never heard about your old best friend?”

Trixie looks up, not really registering anything. He sees Katya idly reading the papers strewn on his work table. This is not the first time this has happened, Katya can be horribly nosy when he wants to be and he was the type of person who would read anything he gets his hands on. Trixie thought that this must be what made him so smart. Katya laughed at this when he told him, open-mouthed and familiar, then raised his hand to show that he was reading through some random gas receipt he found on the floor.

Trixie never minded, didn’t think he ever wrote anything down that he couldn’t have Katya read. They’re just phrases most of the time, things that would eventually turn into songs. Sometimes, a journalistic entry just to remember the event he wanted to write about.

“Ooh, a first love, too?” Katya wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, “It’s honestly very Trixie. I mean, it’s a little barfy and blegh. But very Trixie.”

Trixie feels like he can’t breathe, it’s horrible. The mood registers on Katya’s face and he looks like he’s cursing his mouth for the things he said. Trixie would’ve been quick to comfort him if he wasn’t being bombarded by the images of a similar apologetic face of wide-eyed country boy. These visions are happening too often— have been frighteningly vivid these days. What the hell.

Trixie swallows the lump in his throat and tells him the story of his childhood friend. A homeschooled kid he ran into while walking in the woods. He was the eldest of the pastor’s children but that day he skipped Sunday school and would probably get a beating as soon as he went home. He wanted to be a priest, still, he believed in god and all the heavens and angels, but he wasn’t so sure about the church. Trixie thought he was the smartest boy he ever met, Trixie couldn’t even imagine thinking about god so much. He couldn’t imagine thinking about anything as deeply as he does. All Trixie could think about was how much he didn’t want to go home.

“I don’t want to go home, too,” the pastor’s son told him, flashing a blue-white smile.

The day the pastor’s son stole his first kiss was the first time he ever got on his knees to pray.

Trixie ends his story with how when he was taken out of his house at fifteen, he never saw that boy again. But he heard that the boy grew up and became a priest like he had always wanted.

“Don’t lie, Brian,” Katya tells him. Trixie is stunned but so is Katya and Trixie watches his visible confusion. “What? I don’t— I don’t know where that… Trix?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Trixie reaches out fo him but he doesn’t know how to feel now. He hadn’t meant to test his theory so uncouthly, but what if Katya really is who he thought he was? What if it really is reincarnation? Would he remember? Was he— was he allowed to tell him?

“I just— I-I don’t know if it’s cause you told that story so well,” Katya was gripping his wrist tightly and it was hurting Trixie but he doesn’t dare interrupt him now, “I felt like I was there.”

“Katya, I know this sounds crazy but—“

“And it hurt, Trix, it hurts a lot,” Katya has tears streaming down his face although Trixie isn’t sure if he had noticed. He was obviously so baffled by all of this. “What’s— I don’t know what’s going on. Trixie—“

Trixie never imagined it would be like this, never thought about how much it might hurt Katya. Trixie wants it so bad, to be right, to get any part of him back. He didn’t realize that it might mean losing a little bt of Katya.

“You were right, I lied, I’m sorry,” Trixie tells him, “but it’s a little too sad to tell you now that you’re crying.”

Katya reaches up to touch his cheek and flinches at the moisture.

“Oh Jesus Christ, I am crying,” he stares at his fingers in confused amazement. For some reason this makes Trixie laugh which Katya takes as a cue like he always does, and soon enough they’re cackling like hyenas on Trixie’s couch.

When Katya touches his arm again, Trixie fights the visions.

It’s okay, he thinks, as long as Katya stays as Katya, it’s fine.

Trixie wants to believe in himself, but that night he dreams of the darkness of the forest near his childhood home. He dreams that he was a bruised fifteen year-old hugging his back pack which had his whole life in it. Waiting on a promise to run away together, waiting on a boy who would never show up.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #soulmate au #reincarnation au #m/m au #hurt/comfort #angst #different names for the same thing #pilandok #tw tragedy implied #submission

10 notes · View notes

saidbyes-blog · 7 years

Text

( & * THE LIBERTINE !

( nina nesbitt. demigirl. she/her. ) // did you see who walked past just then ? couldn’t really tell from the distance but i think it’s ( ebony harrison ) actually ! the ( twenty-four ) year old is a little ( unreliable ) if you ask me but they’re also ( kind-hearted ). i heard that when they opened the capsule, they took out the ( watch ) that they’d left seventeen years ago. i wonder what that even means to them especially now that they’re a ( bartender ) ?

in the wise words of trixie mattel: aaaahhhh ! i’m so excited ijshjhnshns, but anyway -- hi ! i’m pace ( she / her ) and this little pain in my entire ass is ebony. i’ll try and keep this on the shorter side ( as i always make these things WAY too long ) both for your sake in terms of reading, and because eb’s story is a little on the sadder side at times, and tbh i don’t wanna dwell on it bc she’s not like ?? a gloomy character or anything ?? but ya i’ll try and keep it brief !

trigger warnings for death !

----- ❀ fun fact: i intended for ebony to be an adjusted version of a character i already had, and planned to mould her around the skeleton and the setting and whatnot, but....... that just didn’t happen ??? ebony came to me very quickly & i wasn’t even expecting her lmao ? so a couple of details are based on That Other Character, but the rest just kind of happened ?? me, playing a brand new character in a rp ???? sounds fake ??? what can i say my dudes the skeleton got me good

----- ❀ her label is the libertine, meaning her item she put n the time capsule was the watch ! long story short, it was her dad’s, who died unexpectedly very close to the time of the carnival. he claimed the watch to be a family heirloom, but they found out after he died that that was bullshit, and it was worth nothing, and since he lied about it, the sentimental value was gone, too. not to be emo but the watch broke as he fell, so the hands are stuck at the time he died ( well, he didn’t die instantly, but it sure as hell wasn’t long after ) so that’s.............fun. fixing it would cost more than the watch was worth, so they didn’t bother. ebony’s parents had fought just before he died, and he’d been kicked out their home, so his parents blamed ebony’s mum, and ebony’s mum blamed herself, too, but she was so angry about the watch that ebony didn’t let it out of her sight ?? just in case her mum smashed it or threw it away. so when they went to the carnival, eb just kind of ???? had in on her ??? and she didn’t intend to put it in the time capsule it just sort of.................happened ?? but even though she was only seven at the time, she hasn’t regretted it ? like looking back on it now as a messy as fuck adult, it was the right thing to do ? he never took it off, so having it in the house would just be a constant reminder of ‘hey, your dad’s dead ! and he was a liar, too !’ so allowing her seventeen years to mourn his death and come to terms with it, and then getting her hands back on the watch, was smart ? obviously she didn’t think that far ahead at the time, but.

----- ❀ she’s actually back in town because of the time capsule. ebony is always full of surprises, and anybody who knew about the watch, whether they put something in the time capsule too, or she just told them about it on her travels, might be surprised she’d go back to lorfield for a broken watch ? she,,,, cannot commit to anything ?? let along a tatty old watch ?? and when things get too real, or too tough, she just.........ditches. she just can’t deal with stuff, it makes her feel trapped and claustrophobic, and she just cannot deal with it ?? sometimes she just ditches hangouts and friend circles, and sometimes she’ll skip town entirely, it really depends. but anyway, the watch had lost some of it’s detail in her memory in seventeen years, and that alone is enough to give her a reality check, like how long it’s actually been, how important things can be, how she’s actually quite glad to have the watch back ? she always thought it’d be bigger, too. like it’s a little bulkier than what she’d choose if she was just.............buying a watch, because she’s got thin wrists, but because she was only seven, she just ??? always thought the watch was bigger ???

----- ❀ anyway, her label. the libertine is defined as ‘a person who behaves without moral principles or a sense of responsibility, especially in sexual matters.’ on the main, and ‘a person, especially a man, who freely indulges in sensual pleasures without regard to moral principles.’ on the ol’ google. for ebony, it expands from just sexual immorality, into immoral everything, but including sex. she drops everything at any given moment, and does so with ease; she has no responsibilities and will own up to none of them even when they do become present. and morally she’s just.......... wrong ? she knows what is morally right and what isn’t, she just can’t allow that to influence how she does things ? she doesn’t think before she does anything, which means that half the shit she does is on impulse, and is then regretted. she doesn’t think ‘the libertine’ is a very flattering label, tbh ? not because of the sexual attachments to it, or because of the flakiness, but mostly just because it’s true.

----- ❀ personality wise,,,,,,,, she a mess. like i said, morals ? she doesn’t know her !!! she’s hard to be understood, doesn’t like anybody trying to understand her, but wants somebody in her life who does understand her. the problem is, she doesn’t even understand herself. she really doesn’t mean to be selfish, she genuinely doesn’t, but she is ? but on the other hand, she’s kind ? pretty gentle ? very forgiving ? expels all kinds of confidence that she just does. not. have ? but she’s selfish and flaky and craves things she doesn’t let people get close enough to have ?

----- ❀ she changes her appearance quite a lot tbh. might take a hot minute for some people to recognise her at times, depending on what she looked like when she knew them ?

----- ❀ tbh i can see a lot of the people she knows / used to know being all kinds of annoyed with her ? like it’s very much a case of, you think everything is fine, you’re getting on great, but then the real shit happens and oh look ebony’s gone. she just can’t ???? deal with anything ???? so she doesn’t ??? it’s infuriating, especially as a person who she may have ditched at some point ? and it’s so clear WHY she disappears. she thinks her problems will be left behind, but they just catch up to her eventually and she just won’t admit that maybe that means she’s the problem, and that she can’t just abandon everything all the time and expect that to fix things. there are so many things in life she can’t control, and it’s just so overwhelming to her, so when she can control things, like where she stays and who she’s with and who she wakes up to in the morning, she does ? and when she is called out on her bullshit, she’s so casual about it that it’s believable ?? and she knows she can’t be like this forever but owning up to it and putting a stop to it means having to admit it, and some things are buried so deep that it’ll take work to put them right or to deal with them, and it’s just so much easier for her to ignore it.

----- ❀ i’m working on a full bio for her, but it may take a while since the last bio i wrote was about six thousand words ( yikes ! ) but for now, she has stats !

----- ❀ gender is messy and ebony’s just accepted that tbh. her pronouns are she / her, but she does appreciate it when people use they / them if she hasn’t, like, explicitly said what her pronouns are ? idk, she just doesn’t want people to forget that she’s not A Girl™ ? bc like just bc she presents femininely and mostly identifies as the gender she was assigned at birth, doesn’t make her any less nb ??? u know ??? like even pals she’s said this too, and they could even be nb themselves, she’s still convinced they’ll ? not see her as nb and just ?? forget she’s not a woman ? on that note, though, she doesn’t mind being referred to as a girl on ????? her own terms ??? like her mobile header literally says ‘sad girls club’ but ? on her own terms, y’know ?? anyway, if we could refrain from referring to her as like ‘the girl’ or ‘the woman’ in replies, that’d be great !

----- ❀ tldr: ebony is everybody’s least favourite messy, woke, flaky, but soft, angel forward slash demon, who has mastered the ‘art’ of a) never dealing with anything ever b) crying then acting like she’s never cried in her life and she’s fine five minutes later and c) subtly leaning over the bar at work, claiming it to be because she can’t hear her customer, but it’s actually so her shirt gets caught and gets pulled down a little. bc tips. plus fun. plus it makes her feel smug. i hate her.

okay so..........keeping it short went well then. but i’m honestly so tired rn so this may not even make sense, and i may have to go to sleep and get stuck into replies and starters and whatnot in the morning, but i’m v excited to be here and plot with your kiddos !! i kind of lowkey suck at plotting, and messaging makes me anxious, but i shall try my damn hardest, and H O N E S T L Y everybody’s characters look so fecking good i’m cryin

edit: i threw together a connections page, that i will update and do properly when i’m more awake !

#lorfieldintro #❀ — ʜᴏᴡ ɢᴏᴅᴅᴀᴍɴ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ɪ ᴀᴍ ﹙ooc.﹚#god i'm so tired i hope this makes ................................ a Little sense at least #but also i've already got ims ( i love u ! ) so if i don't reply rn I'M NOT IGNORING YOU YOU ARE LOVED i'm just v tired and might #be heading to bed !!!!

6 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Five People's Thoughts on Adore and Bianca: Laganja Estranja (2/5) (Biadore-ish) - doctor bitchcraftt

Yes gawd mawma, it’s finally time to hear from Laganja, okurrrr?

1. Courtney Act

2. Laganja Estranja

3 & 4. Raja & Raven

5. Trixie Mattel

A/N: Laganja isn’t a character I’ve written before, and I wanted to avoid reducing her to a caricature of her own behavior by exploring the deep insecurities exposed by her Untucked outbursts and her version of calculated competition. She’s the quintessential unreliable narrator, and I hope that comes through properly.

Xoxoxoxo, bitchcraftt

********

Laganja had been pleased to find Adore in her group for Drag Race, both as a friendly face and a known quantity: good, but not going to outshine her in the end (she didn’t even cinch). They’d gotten on well before the show, and she couldn’t wait to kiki with her on camera. More importantly, she wanted to find a moment to ask if she’d managed to stash anything for later since her nerves had been buzzing for hours already.

Striding into the workroom, she landed a perfect death drop that hopefully would capture the fans’ attention once the episode aired.

Sizing up the rest of the competition proved more challenging. She almost immediately dismissed Vivacious (what the fuck was that on her head anyway?) and cautiously considered the likelihood that BenDeLaCreme would turn out to be playing the long game behind her sweet persona. Laganja weighed the potential benefit of establishing Gia as an ally, felt a twinge of envy for April’s showy costume and Latin charm, and came up suspiciously neutral in her impression of Kelly Mantle.

After the photo shoot and gleefully celebrating her first win, she sat back and waited for the other queens to arrive, ignoring how much she really wanted to light up to calm her nerves.

Kelly hadn’t lasted long anyway. One queen down, and six new bitches to add to the mix.

********

The first thing she noticed when the second group walked in was how much older Darienne and Courtney looked in person (although she had to begrudgingly admit that Courtney’s fishyness was impressive). Courtney was pretty, but her makeup wasn’t drag-worthy. As for Darienne, well, a queen who couldn’t wear high heels wasn’t a queen at all in her book.

Joslyn seemed genuinely nice, although probably not savvy enough to last long. On the other hand, she would definitely make Laganja seem even more polished by comparison, so maybe she would be worth keeping around for a couple of weeks.

Trinity had faded into the background, and Laganja figured she would stay there. Part of her empathized with the air of someone struggling with their own inner issues, but she couldn’t afford to play nice. Trinity didn’t seem likely to pose a threat, and it was probably safe to leave her to her own devices.

Most of all though, the last two who came through the doors set off alarm bells in her head.

Milk looked like a demented marionnette wrapped in organza, but the sheer outlandish energy coming off her might be a problem as the challenges progressed. She also wondered if Milk had any dance background, watching her assured movement in and out of drag. So far no one else seemed to be able to match her for flexibility and ability to tear up the floor, but she planned to keep an eye on the bearded wonder.

Last across the threshold and sporting neon eyeshadow that badly needed blending, Laganja recognized Bianca Del Rio. The queen had to be pushing forty (Alyssa had mentioned her a few times, calling her ‘established in the business’), but her padding and wig line were flawless. Beyond the packaging though, she recognized the sharp eyes of a fellow competitor. Combined with her sharp tongue, Laganja might actually have some serious competition.

********

Scream Queens

After the first acting challenge, when Laganja found herself laughing along with Bianca’s cutting retort to Adore, she wondered if the other queen might actually not be as much of a problem as she’d anticipated. If she was going to devote energy to taking down all of the girls verbally, then it was less to focus on everything else. Adore rarely played well with other queens in her experience, so why should Drag Race be any different? It meant that Laganja ought to have her undivided support, at least until she was sent home.

Bianca didn’t appear concerned with playing to the camera outside of the challenge, nor did she make an effort to capture airtime in the workroom. Moreover, she didn’t make any attempt to showcase her slender legs (nice, but not as nice as Laganja’s) to take attention away from her overdrawn face, which could only be a serious tactical error. And while the old Hollywood glamour admittedly flattered her petite figure, it wasn’t edgy or exciting for someone who claimed to be a costume designer.

The oversized rhinestoned collar was actually impressive. Not as imaginative as her butterfly fascinator, but definitely interesting.

Laganja had studied the looks on Bianca’s garment rack, and while a part of her coveted the craftsmanship (apparently Bianca made everything herself), her overriding impression was that the queen was stuck too far in the past. People like Laganja, and Adore, were the new face of drag, outside of smoky clubs and bars.

Also, the obsessive neatness and organized rows of identically styled wigs made her supremely uncomfortable.

********

Shade: The Rusical

In the Gold Bar, she struggled to contain her tears when a message from her parents played. Everything was finally coming together, and she could picture the crown on display in Alyssa’s dance studio for everyone to know that Laganja Estranja of the Haus of Edwards was a true winner.

Sniffling, she turned her attention back to the other girls, waiting for their separate conversation to end so they could finish validating her experience. It started out well, and even Bianca was complimentary towards her parents. Who would have thought she had it in her? (She was half convinced that Bianca spent every night off set thinking up ways to insult everyone else.)

And then, right as Laganja felt safe in relaxing just a little, Bianca cut across her moment with a joke. It wasn’t the joke itself - she couldn’t care less what the bitter bitch thought of her - but then all of the other girls laughed and started another conversation without her. Worse, they seemed to be laughing at her, which wasn’t fair at all. The prickling sense of doubt came roaring back full force, and she couldn’t afford to let anyone see it, especially not here.

How could they be so insensitive?

…how dare they?

“This was my moment!” she sobbed, not even hearing what was said after and barely conscious of the words coming out of her mouth.

This couldn’t be happening.

****

Later, when she was calm again and Adore was disappointed in not winning the main challenge, Laganja found herself torn between annoyance on her behalf (Courtney Act was so *pitchy*) and being secretly relieved that one more episode was complete without the judges being drawn under Adore’s charming spell.

The thing about Adore, was that her powerful voice wasn’t going to make up for her thrift store drag budget. Her punk rock rebel schtick was only going to go so far, especially in comparison to queens with professionally made looks. Laganja hated to think it, but Bianca Del Rio’s unclockable hairline next to Adore’s messy shake-and-go Party City closeouts was a point in her favor.

More importantly, she was relieved to unload her frustration at being dismissed on a friendly ear. Adore might be a little slow, but she definitely stuck up for her friends. Bianca wouldn’t catch her off-guard again, and not with Adore now aware of her awful behavior.

********

Snatch Game

Laganja woke up feeling peaky and drained. She panicked for a moment, thinking about the cameras catching her looking tired. The only solution, as Alyssa had taught her, was to put on her biggest wig and blow the other bitches out of the water. Digging in her suitcase, she located her pièce de résistance: a high braided turban that was sure to deflect from anyone noticing the bags under her eyes.

Her tactic seemed to be working, because the other queens were staring with impressed expressions as she showed off her flexibility for the camera.

Crisis averted.

Unsurprisingly, Bianca was the first one in full face and wig while the other queens were still baking and contouring. She moved around the workroom purposefully, offering to help DeLa with her old lady face and brushing out Trinity’s wig. When her black-clad form (why did Bianca suddenly look so tiny?) appeared behind Laganja in the mirror, she steeled herself for more negativity.

“Want me to help?”

Laganja blinked, certain that she’d heard wrong, and tried to continue.

Bianca watched her fumble with her highlight for a few seconds before holding out her hand.

“Give it to me, queen.”

Laganja froze, brush in midair and compact clenched in her other hand.

Rolling her eyes, Bianca made a ‘come here’ gesture before plucking both items out of her hands and tugging her shoulder until she turned around. Gripping her chin gently, Bianca started moving with quick, precise strokes.

“It’s easier if you start near your hairline, and…" The rest of what she said was lost as Laganja’s mind spun into overdrive. There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motive, yet here she was helping her competition.

She zoned back in as Bianca set down the brush and highlighter, and nodded briskly.

"Let me know if you want me to show you how to do it next time.”

As she walked away, Laganja could almost understand why Trinity and Adore seemed to love Bianca and talked about her being great. Sometimes when the cameras weren’t rolling, she even felt a sense of camaraderie. It never lasted long enough to convince her that it was real, because the moment filming started and her anxiety rocketed upwards, everything that came out of her mouth seemed to annoy the older queen.

****

She left the Snatch Game set nearly in tears. Rachel Zoe was an easy part of her repertoire for her friends, but everything had felt so off today.

It took a trip to the bathroom and a five-minute private mirror pep talk before Laganja felt ready to take on the Night of 1,000 RuPauls. What she really needed was to get away from everyone and smoke, but that hadn’t been an option for weeks.

Staring into her own eyes, she tongue popped for luck and resolved to slay it on the runway.

Bianca gave her a curious look when she breezed back into the workroom.

”Everything all right, queen?”

Laganja steadfastly ignored the attention.

Halfway through gluing her lace down, she realized that Adore was no longer perched on the chair beside her. Looking around the room, her heart dropped when she located her friend.

Instead of lingering at her station like usual to keep Laganja company and her mind off her nerves, Adore was off in the corner. Off in the corner with Bianca, who had paused in the middle of piling hair on her head to lace her into a cincher. Bianca’s cincher.

Bafflingly, she was actually being nice to Adore and not sabotaging her, because as far as Laganja could tell, there wasn’t anything wrong with the garment and she had seemed genuinely concerned that Adore was comfortable and happy with the final product.

She didn’t understand Bianca at all.

****

The fragile sense of calm that she’d achieved on the main stage crumbled the moment Adore pointed at her and Gia as being in the bottom.

Hearing Adore laugh at DeLa’s naive question about Rachel Zoe hit like a bad death drop and for a moment Laganja couldn’t breathe.

She scrabbled for something to defend herself with. Bianca was an automatic target - after playing nice with her makeup, she had turned right around and messed with her in the Snatch Game. Laganja wasn’t buying her “I hate everyone equally” excuse this time, not when she was obviously trying to come for her.

Looking across the lounge, she was overwhelmed by the sense of betrayal as Adore claimed that Bianca wasn’t singling her out for attack.

It felt like the floor was slowly collapsing under her feet. Not only had her friendship with Adore been far less of a stabilizing force than she’d expected, but Adore had actually joined forces with Bianca against her.

It wasn’t the only thing, but that was the last heave it took to upend the cart of her control.

“Did you or did you not come for me today?” she snapped, hoping that someone else (Gia? Joslyn?) would stand up for her.

“…hold up girl, I’m not trying to create a moment -“

Her heart pounded in her ears, and she badly wanted to grab the stupid pillow off of Bianca’s lap and throw it at Adore’s bitchface.

“I’m not saying you came for me but I do feel a little shafted by you today.”

The words were spilling out and Laganja gave up trying to hold in all of her frustration and hurt.

”I don’t remember the exact comment you said, but earlier I do feel like you were saying -“

Her breathing was too shallow, but all she could see was Adore’s newly cinched waist.

“I don’t even know, but I felt a little hurt by you earlier,” she finished lamely, unable to articulate the pain and panic welling up in her chest.

She no longer recognized her rebellious good time party girl, always a few steps behind. Adore wasn’t even trying to support her, just offering empty words as she she spent her time cozying up to Bianca. While the person on the other side of the table looked like Adore and spoke in Adore’s voice, she might as well have been a stranger.

Laganja shied away from Bianca’s touch on the way back into the hall. Not five minutes after coming for her, Bianca had to be mocking her with her ‘advice’.

She couldn’t trust anyone here, not anymore.

Why didn’t anyone else see what was going on?

********

Oh No She Better Don’t

“Miss Laganja Estranja. Next time you death drop, reverse that and drop dead.”

Adore’s read felt like a stab in the back and Laganja didn’t even bother to try to smile. Everyone was laughing at her, Bianca’s cackle rising above the others.

********

Glamazon by Colorevolution

Surveying the others, Laganja was certain that her black and white runway look would win the judges over - no one else had anything as edgy. Even Adore was wearing a Forever 21 sweater and a miniskirt, but she could forgive her friend the look because their commercial had gone amazingly well.

Joslyn looked like an extra from a porn about magicians, and Courtney…well, that weird sparkly tuxedo thing was a look. Courtney was blathering on about someone called Clause No Me (whoever that was), but it wouldn’t matter if she was wearing Dior, because her boy legs were on full display. Not to mention, the giant pile of hair that DeLa was pinning up made her think of a butt plug. Laganja was surprised that Darienne hadn’t made any catty comments about it given the palpable tension between them. She started to move closer, but was distracted by the activity in Bianca’s alcove.

Still in pantyhose and corset with her skunk-striped hair, Bianca was helping Trinity zip herself in. The domino dress was well-made, although she ought to be carrying drinks in Monte Carlo in it. Laganja admitted she might even ask Trinity where it came from.

As for Miss Perfect herself, Laganja once again grudgingly had to give her credit for the ensemble as Bianca started to get dressed. The enormous ball gown skirt seemed to materialize from nowhere in a cloud of tulle. How the hell had she fit that in her duffels? It wasn’t even creased, and it must have contained miles of crinoline. Laganja had barely been able to close her five suitcases, but Bianca’s luggage all seemed to be under the maximum amount. Not to mention, she’d only unpacked a bag and a half of wigs.

She started to pace anxiously, balance thrown off after the high of performing. Her feet carried her to Adore’s table, hoping to mend their friendship, but once again Adore was busy talking to Bianca.

********

It wasn’t fair. She had to keep her chin up, because the road to success was never easy, but it also shouldn’t have been this hard.

She’d promised her parents and Alyssa that she’d bring home the crown. Her parents seemed to finally be at peace with her drag, and it would be everything she’d ever wanted to validate following her dreams.

Laganja just had to hold on a little longer, prove to Ru that she deserved to be America’s next drag superstar.

********

Queens of Comedy

The comedy challenge was a disaster.

After seeing Adore perform with shaky insecurity, Laganja’s confidence had risen. All of the other girls were trying for a ten, but she was going to dial her personality up to one hundred.

Except instead of howling with laughter, the old people in the audience stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. She dug deep for the best jokes that never failed to entertain her usual crowd, but nothing worked.

Barely keeping her angry tears in check, she slumped back into her seat and watched the rest with a stony stare.

Witnessing Bianca Del Rio effortlessly work the audience was awful. Every laugh she drew from them hit her like a punch to the stomach, reminding her of how inadequate her jokes had been.

Worse, seeing Adore’s rapt attention made her physically ill. Bianca was now the recipient of the same wondering smile that Adore used to give her when she performed.

Nothing made sense.

Without heels, Laganja towered over Bianca; she couldn’t understand how the queen could still make her feel insignificant without even saying a word.

She was sick to death of Bianca’s clever insults and her perfect white teeth. She hated her stupid dimples and how her voice grew soft when she spoke to Adore.

Adore was her friend, or at least she used to be. If Bianca had to pick someone to be nice to, why did it have to be Adore?

This was supposed to be her moment.

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #adore delano #laganja estranja #biadore #canon compliant #five thoughts #doctor bitchcraftt

30 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

cirque d'amour - chapter ten (trixya) - cal

A/N - i actually posted this to ao3 ages ago and forgot to submit here - sorry!

i realised i never named latrice’s club - here it is; the oscars. named after a gay bar in my city and appropriate ‘cause latrice is a musical man.

i thought y'all deserved a bit of floofy goodness after all the drama…rest assured, there is more to come of both.

“So you and Willam definitely aren’t a thing anymore?”

Trixie was sat atop Courtney’s marble kitchen counter in her silky nightgown, her legs swinging absentmindedly at she picked at her cereal. She shook her head miserably.

“You need to eat.” Courtney remarked, eyeballing her bowl.

“Why do all of you act like my friggin’ mother?” Trixie croaked, rubbing her eye with a balled fist. “First Willam, now you…”

“You need mothering, Mattel,” Courtney deadpanned, her eyebrows arched. “Try telling me you don’t.”

Trixie mimicked Courtney’s words childishly; Courtney responded by throwing a balled-up sock in her direction, which narrowly skimmed Trixie’s ear.

“Well, you’ve been moping all week. It’s high time you get out of this apartment.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, you never will be if you wallow.”

“I’m not wallowing.”

Courtney shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, flashing her brightest smile. “Then you’ll miss the Cirque’s party that Alaska is throwing tonight…”

Trixie glared at Courtney, her stubbornness refusing to release her from its deadly grip. “’Guess I will.”

Trixie crawled back into bed when Courtney had left the apartment. She hadn’t drawn the curtains for so long that she had almost forgotten what her room looked like in the light of day.

She had been moping; she knew that was the truth. It had been a week since the fateful conversation with Willam and she was feeling broken in ways she never thought was possible. She was being eaten alive by a primary emotion; guilt. She didn’t deserve to go to the Cirque’s party. She didn’t deserve to have any sort of enjoyment. So her plan was to remain in bed until the inevitability of death by misery.

The guilt spilled out into her other thoughts; she was also feeling irate and saddened by the fact she had not heard anything from Katya. She hadn’t told her about what had happened with Willam – she figured that was a conversation they ought to have in person – but she had sent a couple of texts that she had simply ignored.

Trixie sighed, clicking open a playlist on her Spotify that she had in reserve for situations such as these – not that she was being dramatic. Trixie Mattel was never dramatic.

Trixie woke hours later with a fright – something had jolted her bed, and she bolted upright, afraid of an earthquake.

“Wha-ha-happen?” she stammered, her half-asleep eyes darting wildly around the room until they landed on a broadly grinning Courtney who was crouched on her bed.

Trixie’s brow furrowed as the thralls of sleep released her and reality dawned. “You cunt, you scared me.”

Courtney was bouncing lightly against the mattress, causing her beautiful blonde curls to dance. Trixie couldn’t help but crack a slight smile at that.

“Jesus, I’m surprised your face didn’t break,” Courtney grinned, playfully cuffing Trixie’s jaw with her fist. “Come on – you’re getting up. We’re going out.”

Trixie groaned, rolling her eyes to the back of her head and throwing herself back down onto her bed. “Courtney, why? Why can’t you just leave me to die in peace?”

***

Alaska – or Justin, as he was out of drag – eyeballed the map of the United States that was splayed across the tiny table in Latrice’s empty bar. His over-plumped lips were smacking every few seconds as he carefully placed a pin at each destination.

Katya was sat opposite him with Violet, compiling a playlist for their final L.A show; their determination to make it the best show yet never dampened for a moment.

“What’s that, like, dramatic violin piece?” Violet hummed, forever vague and somewhat unhelpful, Katya couldn’t help but think. “It would be dope as hell for Milk’s performance.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” Katya barked a laugh, pretending to type “dramatic violin piece” into Spotify. “I totally know which one you mean.”

Violet pushed Katya’s shoulder playfully. “Shut up. You’ll know the one. From the British version of 'Got Talent’.”

“I can’t believe you watch that garbage,” Katya scoffed in response.

“Simon does things to me,” Violet giggled with an exaggerated shudder. “It was those women with the electric violins.”

“Oh, bitch,” Katya beamed, scribbling the name (Palladio) on a piece of lined paper that was so disorganised that it could only ever make sense to her. “You’re so right.”

“Aren’t I always?” Violet batted her eyelashes at her.

Roy was hovering nearby – he was giving an air of disinterested boredom, but Katya knew better. He was just as excited as the rest of them about the impending tour.

“Was the witch box really necessary, miss thing?”

Katya grinned broadly at her friend. “Ab-sol-ute-ly.”

Latrice, in his wild excitement for the closing show, had allowed a portion of their budget to be blown on some party-style amenities for the night. Each of the Cirque had been granted permission to pick something to buy, and Katya couldn’t resist the eerie rubber man trapped in a box who “read your fortune”, or rather, spouted out random tarot cards.

Katya cast a loving eye over it now, sat in the middle of the empty room. The box was painted purple with gold lettering and patterns emblazoned all over, and the man himself looked like a British villain from a Bond movie; complete with a top-hat.

Roy gestured for Katya to join him, away from Violet’s prying eyes. Katya skipped towards him with over-enthused joy - she really was happy today, being here, in her home, surrounded by her family.

“I wanted to give you a heads up,” Roy hissed, his head dipped close to Katya’s. “Courtney text me and she’s bringing Trixie tonight.”

Katya’s heart skipped a beat. Trixie. Trixie was coming. Trixie, whom she had been avoiding. Trixie, who only last week she had realised she was desperately in love with. “Um.”

“Have you still not spoken to her?”

Katya suddenly felt hot all over - her hands were beginning to clam up, despite the coolness of the building. “Um.”

“You’re so freakin' dumb.”

Katya’s chest almost broke from the sigh that escaped her lips. “I know. I just…didn’t know what to do, Roy. I’m super dumb. I - just. I don’t know.”

Roy’s eyes softened at the edges ever so slightly - something so discreet, that only those who truly knew Roy could ever notice such a thing. “Miss thing, please will you communicate with the girl tonight? Take it from an old bitch who knows: lay out your stupid heart and get a final answer. We’re all sick of the drama.”

Katya gave Roy a shaky smile, knowing that this was his unique way of giving advice and supporting her. She reached out to grasp his hand in her own. “You got it, Bee.”

Roy shook the contact away with disgust. “Don’t touch me.”

The Oscars looked beautiful by the time the decorating was done.

There were lights strung across every wall, creating a hazy white beam across the empty dance-floor. There was a giant banner strewed across the largest wall, painted messily with rainbows, fire, and other circus figures – and the giant, bold words “TOUTES NOS FÉLICITATIONS CIRQUE!”

Violet was admiring her handiwork, the tell-tale signs of paint still flecking her impossibly long nails. “I’m an artist.”

Katya followed her gaze with a chuckle of agreement. They weren’t long from beginning their celebrations, and Katya couldn’t help but be somewhat strategic about her choice of outfit – she was wearing a black sequin body suit with dark tights, and large, shiny black boots. Her hair was a wild tangle of blonde waves and she spent longer than was necessary perfecting her smoky eyes. If this was the day she was to make or break whatever her relationship was with Trixie, she at least wanted to look good doing it.

Violet glared at her with a side-eye. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Katya merely shrugged, her smile betraying nothing.

Alaska entered the building in a puff of what could only be described as whore’s bath – her scent was hugely intoxicating and Katya forget for a single moment that she was a man in a wig.

She had a strange bird’s nest-style wig resting on her head, and her dress looked like it might have been made out of garbage bags. From what Katya had seen of Justin, she believed that it could truly be made of garbage bags, despite the thousands of dollars in his bank account. His face was sculpted into feminine perfection and despite herself, Katya stared.

“Full drag for a private party?” Violet scoffed, her eyes huge in her petite little face. “That’s a bit extra. Don’t let Roy see.”

Alaska shuffled with bent wrists towards the pair of them, and she laughed softly as she noted the dropping of Katya’s jaw. “Sorry, I’m not into the puss.”

“Dang,” Katya swung her fist, amused at herself.

“’Lasky!” Latrice bellowed from the empty bar, lining up a bottle of everything he could get his huge paws on. “You look fabulous.”

Alaska wiggled her shoulders at him with a raised upper lip. “Oh, stop.”

“The rest of the crew should be here any minute,” Latrice announced, carefully balancing a tower of plastic cups on the side of the bar. “Vi, can you set up the music?”

Violet nodded, her eyebrows still raised at Alaska as she glided off towards the stage.

“So, you’re a lesbian,” Alaska grinned, grasping Katya’s bicep and giving it a teasing squeeze. Katya was somewhat surprised at the interaction they were having – out of drag, Justin was all business.

“It’s that obvious?” she asked with a laugh.

The front door of the club swung open quite suddenly, interrupting the banter between Katya and Alaska. Katya’s eyes were instantly drawn to the striking pair whose heals clacked against the wooden floor as they came closer.

Trixie and Courtney were really quite a beautiful duo – Courtney was in a dazzling pink dress that clung to her body perfectly, her hair twisted up and sitting on top of her head. Trixie wore a floral dress of interlacing purple, white, and gold flowers. The front of her hair was pulled back behind her head; the rest was flowing down the sides of her face, slightly kinked at the ends. She had a crown of huge white flowers sitting on the crest of her head, and a ring through the middle of her septum. Since when did she get that done?

Katya felt her breath catch - Trixie was otherworldly.

Katya’s gaze was faraway and she was sure that everyone in the vicinity could hear the rapid thumping of her heart.

Alaska chuckled beside her, missing nothing. “It’s that obvious.”

It didn’t take long for the party to begin once all the guests had arrived – it was mostly the Cirque and their extended family, but there were also some friends of Latrice’s, and even a couple of loyal Cirque fans who had supported them from the humble beginning.

The air was light and full of good feeling. Milk and Courtney were a tangle of limbs, as they so often were now, sinking into a single bean-bag, each with a glass of champagne and their heads thrown back in fits of laughter. Latrice was acting as a bar-host, cheerfully filling every waiting glass. Kennedy and Roy were milling around the little group of fans, their grins broad against their lips; and Violet was attempting to teach a tipsy friend of Latrice how to suspend themselves on an aerial hoop.

Katya had been spending time with Jay and Raja – her Cirque tour planning had overcome her life this last week, and she felt a twinge of guilt at how angry she’d been with the pair of them the night Trixie had indulged in their cocaine.

After a while, she spied Trixie leaning against the bar; alone. Katya had shared a few heated glances with her, and even the beginnings of a smile on Trixie’s lips, but she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to speak to her alone.

“I’ll be back,” she hissed in Raja’s direction, who smirked knowingly and nodded.

Katya could feel her pulse quicken as she swept towards Trixie, whose elbows were leaning against the bar with her body dipped forward; damn, her ass looked good. Katya shook the thought from her head, squinting her eyes so that her vision was blurred.

“Hey,” she said, mirroring Trixie’s stance. Trixie glanced up with barely veiled bewilderment.

My god, she looked beautiful. The flower crown made her seem precious and fae - much like how Katya had first perceived her, in the hot crowd that fateful night - and her make up was softer than it usually was. Katya couldn’t help but gaze at her mouth as it parted with surprise.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” Trixie quipped, though her eyes were smiling.

“I guess so,” Katya shrugged, noticing the cup clenched in her hand. “Drinking?”

Trixie shook her head. “Not tonight.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Trixie scoffed, taking a delicate sip of her non-alcohol.

Katya wheezed, throwing her hands up dramatically. Trixie glared at her for a moment, before her eyes widened at something beyond what Katya could see.

“Is that —” she pushed herself off the bar. “A ball pool?”

Katya grinned as she turned to follow Trixie’s gaze. “Yep - that’s Jay’s contribution to the party.”

“Oh, bitch,” Trixie bounced from foot to foot, her excitement child-like. She grasped Katya’s hand in her’s and dragged her towards the corner of the club.

The ball pool was exactly that - a blow-up box, filled with hundreds of brightly coloured plastic balls. Fairy lights were hanging above it, casting a mythical glow on the untouched sea of colour. Katya hovered by the side of it, expecting Trixie to dive in; but she felt a sudden shove against her back and she went tumbling into the pit face-first.

“Bitch!” Katya choked, batting the balls away from her face. Trixie launched herself into the pit beside her, squealing with delight.

“That’s for ignoring me,” she said breathlessly, her eyes bright and dancing with mischievous glee.

Katya responded by throwing a red ball at Trixie’s arm - which missed its target and bounced back into the pit.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Are you that old that you can’t even aim a ball anymore?”

“Bitch,” Katya exclaimed a second time, tugging Trixie’s arm to bring her down into the sea of baubles. Trixie screamed, laughter creasing her eyes.

Katya threw a leg over the rise of Trixie’s hips and straddled her, her hands pinning Trixie’s own above her head. “Am I old, Tracy?”

Trixie’s laughter was merely a shuddering breath now; tears of amusement cutting tracks into her make up. “Oh my god.”

Katya could feel the shudders of her laughter beneath her legs, and she smiled triumphantly as she released Trixie’s wrists from her grip.

Trixie’s laughter eventually subsided, and Katya rolled off her, to lie beside her against the satisfying clacking noise the balls made when they bumped together.

“So…”

Trixie was leaning on her side now, the palm of her hand cupping her chin.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were avoiding me?”

Katya’s muscles seized for a moment. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Honestly,” Katya breathed, fiddling with the balls collected at her feet. “I was upset by you leaving to go and see Willam.”

“I broke up with Willam.”

Katya’s eyes widened - she was not expecting that. “Y-you…”

“Right?”

Katya’s head began to spin with endless questions. “Come outside,” she urged, hooking her arm through Trixie’s and guiding her out of the ball pit, and away from the din of the party.

They exited through the side door by the bar; the night was young, and the sky was still light with the promise of the impending sunset. Katya parked Trixie at one of the outdoor tables, flicking a cigarette from the stash in her bra with impressive quickness. She remained standing and sparked up her lighter, fiddling with it for a moment before the fire ignited.

“I feel like I need a cigarette for this conversation,” Katya mumbled, her lips distorted by the filter.

“Bitch,” Trixie folded her arms, her eyebrows raised. “Even I need a cigarette for this conversation.”

Katya laughed nervously, taking a deep drag of poison into her lungs. The relief was almost instant as she let the coils of smoke exit her lips in a distorted cloud. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Trixie fidgeted on the bench, shuffling herself around like an impatient child. “I mean, uh. I told her that…she…that she deserved better. You know?”

Katya nodded, her eyes greeting Trixie’s for a moment - knowing there was more to it than that.

“She …asked me about you.”

Katya forgot about her cigarette - it was lingering between her middle and index fingers as her arms lay at her sides, and the embers were dangerously close to her skin. Her gaze was soft as she looked upon Trixie’s face, noting the way her nerves were painfully obvious in the way she held herself.

“I…” Trixie exhaled a breath, staring into Katya’s eyes. “I have feelings for you.”

Kaya’s mouth gaped; a flush of dizziness threatening to bring her to her knees. Her pulse was racing impossibly fast and she prayed for a moment to the universe to slow it down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Trixie replied, and Katya realised that her eyes were glistening with unshod tears.

“Hey,” Katya whispered, offering Trixie her hand. Trixie took it into her own gratefully, rising from the bench with a soft cry.

Katya enveloped Trixie into her warmest embrace, feeling her body shake with gentle sobs. Katya’s body was alight with love; feeling Trixie’s pressing against her own, but she quelled her own impossibly huge feelings to take care of Trixie’s in the moment.

“Trix, it’s okay. You can’t help feelings - they just are.”

Katya could feel Trixie nod against her. “I - I know. I just - I feel so guilty. On you, on Willam. On everyone.”

“That’s because you’re a good person,” Katya stated, moving out of the hug to look into Trixie’s eyes. “And I’m sure you know that - that I have feelings, too.”

Trixie gazed back at Katya with the beginnings of a watery smile playing on her lips.

“But - there’s no pressure for anything to happen,” Katya insisted, her hands on Trixie’s wrists. She gave them a light squeeze. “You’re my friend, first. Take all the time you need.”

“Katya,” Trixie whispered, her eyes softened and her lips parted just ever-so-slightly. Katya smiled, wiping the lingering tears from beneath Trixie’s eyes. She hovered her touch over Trixie’s nose for a moment. “When did this happen?”

“Oh, it’s not real,” Trixie laughed softly, poking at the ring through her septum. “I’m trying something new. Isn’t that what kids do nowadays when they go through a break up?”

Katya chuckled. “It’s cute - you should get it done.”

I am the great Zuccini, and I will reveal the card of your future!

Recognition dawned on Katya as she heard the bellowing voice, and her eyes grew wide with glee. “Oh, Trix, you gotta do this!”

“What the fuck was that?” Trixie gasped, her tone returning to some sense of normality and allowing Katya to lead her by the hand back into the soft din of the club. “And isn’t Zuccini a friggin' vegetable?”

Katya laughed heartily, dragging the beautiful Trixie towards the colourful box that was propped against the wall by the door. She beamed at her, gesturing for Trixie to approach the mystical man in the box.

“Katya,” Trixie scoffed, her gaze critical as it swept the great Zuccini. “Why?”

“Do it.”

“Okay, jeez.”

Trixie fed the machine a couple of quarters, and watched with barely disguised scepticism as the box lit up before her. Katya watched her face as the dancing lights cast shadows on the rise of her cheeks and the dimple of her chin - she was truly beautiful. And she liked her. Katya’s mind was still churning with disbelief and wonder.

The box shuddered and choked - Katya wondered for a moment if it was going to give up and die - but then, the box shot out a single card from the slot.

It landed face down against the dusty floorboards, and Trixie bent to pick it up.

“The lovers.”

She gazed at Katya with a raised eyebrow, the roses of her cheeks turning red.

Katya felt a burn under her skin as she blushed right back.

21 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

See you in April (Chapter 2)

A/N - Hey guys, I’m back back back back back again! First of all thank you so much for the lovely feedback I received for Chapter 1, and I’m ever so sorry that this has taken so long - I won’t bore you all with the details but I have a lifelong medical condition that can sometimes flare up quite badly and I was all ready to finalise this chapter and submit it then bam, emergency surgery and 3 weeks in the hospital for me! But I’m back home now and ready for you guys.

Also, whilst I was in the hospital I got a bit carried away and this chapter ended up being close to 10,000 words… so I have split it into two parts and Chapter 2.5 will be with you soon. I would find the link for Chapter 1 in case you missed it but I’m clueless on my phone, but I’m sure you can find it in my author tag! For now, Chapter 2/2.5 is taking you on a long and angst ridden journey right back to where it all began, 6 months before Trixie steps into Katya’s apartment and has “the talk.” Backstory come through!

7 months ago

“And… cut. Great work today ladies. Tomorrow we just have the Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years videos to shoot and then we’re wrapped for the season!”

“Yes, gawd. Thanks Petey, you beautiful little whore.” Katya always lived up to her name as the sweatiest woman in show business but today she could feel her face slowly sliding off and the edges of her wig giving up on her. She looked over to Trixie fanning herself, looking as pristine as ever. “Come on, I’m literally 5 minutes away from drowning in my own liquids and I’m sick of you always looking better than me. Mother, let’s become real boys again.”

The two queens made their way into their shared dressing room and started wiping, pulling and untucking away their alter egos. Before long, two men were staring back at them in the mirror.

Trixie looked at himself in the mirror. He took his hands to his face and started using his fingers to contort his skin. “I can’t even make fun of you for being ancient anymore. I look so old and busted.”

Katya’s mouth dropped open. Is he fucking with me? He had never seen the younger man look better in his life. He had lost weight, toned up, was watching what he ate. He was gorgeous - but then again, Katya had believed that since the moment he saw him. It was just now the rest of the world agreed with him. “On one hand I wanna tell you the truth and say how fucking incredible and perfect you look, always, so that you feel better about yourself, and on the other hand I wanna agree with you and tell you that you look awful so that you will fall into my arms because you think no one else will ever want you.”

Trixie threw a breast pad at Katya and it hit him right on the face. “Bitch! You wish you could have me.” Yeah, I wish I could. “I just need a holiday or something. I’m tired of spreading fake tan all over my body, it smells like balls.”

“And you don’t like that? That’s the only reason I use it! You know the last time I went on holiday? Rehab. That’s the honest truth. I don’t even think I’ve had more than 4 days off in a row since the show. I wish I could you just fuck off to, I don’t know, Palm Springs or something.”

Trixie put down the bag he was packing, and gave Katya a familiar smile that told him he had an idea brewing.

“Why don’t we?”

“Why don’t we what?”

“Fuck off to Palm Springs.” Katya threw her a raised eyebrow. “I’m not joking, bitch!”

“Oh, at all.” The pair collapsed onto the couch in the dressing room, laughing at their simultaneous response. Trixie threw his legs up onto Katya’s lap and relaxed back onto the cushions. Katya rested his hand on the top of Trixie’s thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze. It was funny, Trixie had expressed time and time again how much he hated people getting in his personal space and having too much physical contact with other people, but he was never that way with Katya. Katya had noticed how easily Trixie would grab his hand and stroke his palm with his thumb, move Katya’s arm and wrap it around his shoulder, or stroke his hair when Katya was resting his head against him. He was always open and relaxed around him, and Katya was the same. He would find himself gravitating towards Trixie wherever they were and whoever they were with. It felt weird to see Trixie sit next to anyone else other than him, and he remembered more than one argument had with Trixie when Katya had sat next to another queen instead of him. If Trixie were to go on holiday without him he would get jealous, so…

“Why not? A little staycation might do us both some good, Barbra. When do you wanna go?”

“End of the month? We’ve both got gigs for the next 10 days but then we also both have 2 weeks off right after. It makes sense.” The grin on Trixie’s face was growing wider and wider with every sentence. “Are we going or what?”

“We’re going, kid. Pack your bag and bring your best tits. Let’s go have some fun.”

Six and a half months ago

Trixie opened the door on his side of the cab and thanked the driver for helping them with their bags. Katya was already up on the short wall in the front of the yard, doing handstands and jumps. This goof hasn’t been here 5 minutes and she’s already running around like a toddler. Trixie couldn’t help but smile at his flexible friend. He’d been through some real dark times in his life and yet here he was; positive, driven, fun, and with the most beautiful and genuine smile Trixie had ever seen in his life. He adored the older man and cherished being able to see his happiness finally shine through.

“Come on you old bitch, I know you’re excited but I’m not carrying your bag too.”

“Excuse me, Miss Fitness Journey Mattel. You bring the strength now, and I bring the personality. And the condoms and lube just in case.” The older man shot him a wink and left Trixie standing outside the front door, wondering whether he wanted it to be a joke or not.

The days passed in a happy blur. The two men spent the days lounging around by the pool in the house they were staying in, soaking the sun into their pale and over worked skin, relishing the daily change in colour and counting each new freckle that popped up. Trixie spent every day noticing just how much happier his friend was with every morning he woke up there; his skin glowing, his eyes getting brighter, his laugh somehow getting louder. He had never looked better. Or hotter. Their evenings were split between strolling to a new restaurant and coming back to the house to write some new material or introduce each other to films they had never watched. The older Brian forced his younger counterpart to sit through A Streetcar Named Desire, which Trixie concluded people only raved about because of Marlon Brando’s face. Tonight, however, was Trixie’s turn, and there was only one film he had in mind - Mean Girls.

“For fuck sake Brenda, you know I turned this off after 10 minutes and vowed to never watch it again. I refuse!”

“Uh uh, you know the rules. No refusals, no exceptions. Sorry ‘bout it.”

The older Brian groaned. “Fine. But I’m smoking a joint. It’s the only thing that will get me through it.”

“Well in that case, I’m gonna get drunk. Thank god I bought some margarita mix.” Trixie got up from the couch and made his way into the kitchen, and started on his cocktail creation. He hadn’t been drinking whilst they had been there, in solidarity with Katya. He was proud of him for resisting the enticement that often came with their line of work - at least when it came to alcohol anyway. Katya tended to seek out more physical pleasures when coming off stage instead, often taking trade back to the hotel whilst Trixie stayed in the room next door and heard it all. He would hear muffled footsteps at stupid o'clock in the morning and the click of the hotel room door as whoever it was disappeared back into the night, and wonder what Katya was doing once he was alone. And then you spend hours finding whoever he had just fucked on Facebook and plot their bloody downfall. And then you contemplate going into his room once he’s showered and showing him how it should really be done. And then you remind yourself that you turned him down a thousand times before in the name of business because you’re an idiot and just jerk off and go to sleep instead. And then you keep it all to yourself because all of your friends are either Asian virgins or have already fucked him and the thought of it makes you want to tear your own eyeball out with jealousy. Trixie shook his head free of the thought. Suppressed feelings had to remain just that. They had to. For their careers. Fuck your career, you don’t wanna be Trixie forever anyway. You want to write music in a big old house that you never have to leave, and any house is boring without him doing cartwheels around it and painting the walls bright yellow. No. It wouldn’t work. That very small window shut a long time ago. He finished off making his cocktail and took the jug and a glass back into the lounge with him. When he returned, a cloud of smoke was already surrounding Katya and he wore a satisfied smile.

“I know you don’t like me smoking around you but this is the price you must pay, Brenda. You can punish me in return.”

The heavy haze surrounding them must have seeped into Trixie’s lungs too, because he was only two drinks in and he was feeling something different to drunk. He felt just like Karen had said on the screen, like he had a fifth sense or something. His skin was buzzing with electricity, his eyes were seeing the sharpest colours, his ears picking up on the calm breath of his friend. Katya was next to him, one arm around Trixie’s waist and the other resting above his head, legs up on the coffee table. His hearty laugh made Trixie’s head jiggle about on his chest, so he moved his head up to the crook of Katya’s neck. He couldn’t see the film now, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t been watching it anyway. With every laugh, every crinkle of his nose at a bad joke, every piece of social commentary, Trixie had found himself moving closer to the man. He couldn’t stop it, the blonde had magnets sewn into his bones that drew Trixie in without him even realising. And now he was coiled around him, thinking of nothing but how good he smelled and the warmth of his body. You in danger, girl. Calm yourself.

Katya tightened his grip around Trixie’s waist and pulled him in, so that the younger man was now pressed against his side. Trixie nuzzled his face into Katya’s neck and was greeted with a comforting sigh. As he rested, he felt the older man’s pulse beat underneath his lips. It sent a shiver down his spine. He placed a light kiss onto the other man’s neck and got a tiny moan in reply.

“Don’t try and give me blue balls, mama. That’s torture in its finest form. Either suck my dick or get away from me.”

Game on.

Trixie moved his head so that his mouth was up against Katya’s ear, and spoke in a hushed tone. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

He knew what he was doing. They had teased each other a few times before, but it had only ever been harmless. But seeing the other man close his eyes and exhale deeply with arousal was giving him all the motivation he didn’t know he needed. “I think I feel a little bit buzzed.”

Katya turned his head to look at the brunette. “You do? You okay, feel sick or anything? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have smoked so much around you.” The adoration and care that he had for Trixie was always dripping around every word he said to him. Trixie liked it, it made him feel safe. Katya would never hurt him. Unless I asked him to.

“Actually, I feel good. Like, really good.” Katya cocked an eyebrow to show his surprise at what Trixie was saying. “I mean it, I don’t feel drunk or wasted or out of control, I just feel… really fucking good.”

He looked the older man right in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk. “Only you could get me to enjoy something like this.”

“Oh believe me mama, there are plenty of things you would enjoy with me.” Trixie’s stomach flipped at the thought of the things Katya could do to him. He sat up and looked him up and down, taking him all in; his grey sweatpants clinging to all the right places, his hoodie zipped up only halfway so his abs were just peeking out to say hi, his short blonde hair messy and wild. He’s always been hot, but… Come on, tanned bod. Those blue eyes that had always drawn Trixie in were now doing the same to him and inspecting every part of him slowly. He was suddenly very aware of the unflattering t shirt he was wearing and lifted his arms up in a mock yawn to show off his own newly forming muscles. Katya’s eyes followed the hem of his t shirt just as he had hoped and he bit his bottom lip lightly. The silence in the room as the DVD turned itself off was unnoticeable - they were saying enough to each other with a single look. Trixie caught Katya’s gaze and held it. He licked his lips and moved himself just an inch closer.

Katya took a long drag of the joint, and blew the smoke into a stream that reached Trixie’s face instantly. Trixie leaned into it, resting his hand on the other man’s forearm and tracing the skin with his fingertips, feeling goosebumps rise to attention underneath his touch.

Do I want this? He wasn’t the kind of person to hook up with his friends casually. But Katya wasn’t just his friend, and everyone knew. Trixie had just never admitted it to himself. But what was stopping him now? He didn’t have a boyfriend, he wasn’t moping around after an ex. There wasn’t anyone to be loyal to any more except himself, and what he was feeling in that moment.

“Do that again.” The older man stared into his eyes for just a second too long and let out a whisper of a gasp as he realised where Trixie was going. Katya took one last drag and placed the joint back into the ashtray, letting it die out. Trixie leaned in once more, and as the last whiskers of smoke left Katya’s mouth, he took a deep breath to prepare himself and closed the space between their lips.

It was instantaneous - the tension between them was so high that their lips practically buzzed with electricity. They were moving, slowly, deeply into each other as Trixie climbed on top of him and wrapped his thighs around his toned waist. Katya had gotten over the initial shock of their lips finally meeting and was trying to pull Trixie closer even though they were already stuck to each other. Trixie teased open his mouth and flicked his tongue inside, greeted with the taste of virgin margaritas and smoke. He needed to be closer to him, this wasn’t enough. Their teeth clashed and noses crushed together as they battled each other for dominance, both desperately trying to somehow swallow the other whole with their hunger. He grasped at the other man’s hoodie and shoved it off his shoulders, doing the same with his t shirt once he had finished. The feeling of Katya’s skin against his was like velvet and he wanted to be covered in it.

This bitch is ripped, oh my god. I wanna lick his fucking stomach, sweet Jesus…“Fuck, you could have told me you were on your own fitness journey too.”

“God bless yoga! You know me, mama, I’m full of surprises.” Katya shifted himself up on the couch so that he was sat up straighter, and tilted his hips up into Trixie to find the friction they both desperately needed. Trixie’s lips found Katya’s once more as he let out a hushed moan. Trixie could feel the other man in between his legs and the pressure was rising by the second.

“You’re telling me… I thought I was the one with the big dick.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Trixie laughed into their kiss. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck and pushed him deeper into the couch cushions with every kiss, thrusting against him with a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. Katya ran his hands down Trixie’s waist and hesitated at the band of his track bottoms.

“Off.” Trixie ordered. Closer. Please.

“Yes ma’am.” Katya took off his pants but kept his underwear on, much to Trixie’s frustration, and then took off his own pants so that they both had on the same number of layers. Not close enough. Trixie used his new strength and threw Katya over to the other side of the corner sofa so that he was laying down and crawled towards him, taking in every last irresistible inch of him. He straddled Katya and brought his bottom lip into his teeth, sucking on it, before biting down hard.

“It’s not fair,” he started to slowly grind against the other man’s groin, “to tease me,” and lightly scratched his chest from the top all the way down to the band of his underwear, “and then not get me naked when I ask.”

The bulge that was threatening to burst out of Katya’s underwear told Trixie that he was very close to getting what he wanted. He was aching for him and he couldn’t take it much longer. He wished he could take a picture of Katya’s face in this moment - his swollen lips whispering “fuck” whilst he ran his hands all over Trixie in disbelief. He never wanted to look away. He leant down and skimmed his lips lightly against the other man’s and spoke in a whisper.

“Now or never. I choose now.”

Trixie licked his thumb and slowly traced his hand down Katya’s chest, finally reaching beneath his underwear. He took Katya’s length in his hand and used his slick thumb to play with the head of Katya’s dick. A guttural groan escaped Katya’s throat as Trixie finally stopped teasing him and started to pump him slowly, and he found Trixie’s ass and grabbed it like he was holding on for his life. Trixie’s veins were filled with fire, his whole body burning at the thought of the things this man was finally going to do to him. Katya’s mouth caressed his neck expertly, and he gently nibbled on his earlobe before he buried himself into one final, longing kiss.

“I don’t think you should choose ‘now’ now.”

Trixie’s eyes shot open as he snapped out of his bliss and sat up. “Wha-what did I do wrong? Do you not want this?”

“Bri, you will never fully understand just how much I want this. I’ve wanted this since, I don’t know, maybe 10 minutes after I first met you. And you have not done a single thing wrong. Believe me, the things you’re doing to me right now, you deserve to be fucked until you can’t remember your own name.” Trixie shivered at the thought. “But I want you to choose ‘now’ in a different circumstance. When I know that you’re definitely, completely sober. When you haven’t spent an entire week with me. When you don’t feel lonely and desperately single. I don’t want just ‘now.’ I want always, and I don’t want you to regret this.”

Trixie crawled forward back towards Katya and kissed him forcefully, desperately trying to make him feel his adoration. I don’t fucking deserve him. He had never had someone care for him like Katya did; knowing him better than he knew himself, knowing that yeah, he was feeling a little bit lonely and may have ended up regretting starting something when he wasn’t totally sober. But the fire still burning in the pit of his stomach from Katya’s touch had already done it - he knew what he wanted. And he was prepared to show him that in any circumstance.

“I get it. You’re right, not now. But soon. And FYI - I’ll do the same things to you in any circumstance.” Trixie climbed off the other man and found his track bottoms to put back on. As he looked back up, Katya was staring at him and biting down on his bottom lip.

“Oh god Brenda, I hope you do. I cannot believe I just controlled myself like that, you are a work of art.”

“Drink it all in bitch.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Katya threw a pillow at him as he found his own shorts and put them back on. They fell back onto the sofa and Katya curled his arm back around Trixie’s waist and pulled him closer. He placed a soft kiss on Trixie’s lips, then his nose, then his forehead. “A work of art.”

Trixie fell asleep in his arms.

The next morning

Katya woke with a familiar dryness lying uncomfortably on his tongue. God damn it, weed really does turn your mouth into the fucking Sahara. Somewhere behind him he could hear running water, and a dulcet tone singing a Dolly Parton song. He leaned back into the sofa with a smile, remembering what had happened last night. He straddled you, Barbra. Practically begged you. And you held your ground? You fool. You could have gotten some grade A dick that you’ve been waiting for since 2014 and you decided you would rather wait until he wasn’t as lonely? You realise that you’re basically telling him he needs to go and fuck someone else first, right?! No way, he wasn’t going to get in his head about this. He had been waiting for so long for Trixie to get rid of his shitty boyfriends that treated him like dirt and admit the way he felt since literally the day he had met him. He wasn’t going to have it all begin with some second hand smoke and a lonely fumble at 2am. He could wait a little while longer. He reached over to the coffee table and picked up his phone.

08/10/2016

11:23am Katya: Happened. Kind of. Not really. But he started it and I said no. Wanna wait.

Alaska: Boots. How is she though?

Katya: You mean the dick? Didn’t get to it. Put the Palm in Palm Springs for me though.

Alaska: Interestiiiiiiiiiing. You owe me 5 bucks.

Alaska: And don’t make him wait too long. He’s hot and a romantic so the first cute guy that comes along with a flower or a burrito or some shit will distract him for another 6 months and then you’ll be back to square one (which reminds me, I’d like to take a minute to talk about Squarespace)

Katya: True. I just knew he would overthink it and then come up with ways to regret it. You got any ugly friends we can set him up with so he realises I’m numero uno?

Alaska: I’ll see if Sharon’s free.

Katya yelled at the text with glee. Alaska had been right, Trixie really did feel something for him. He could still feel his kiss lingering on his mouth. That had to mean something, right?

As he placed his phone back down on the coffee table, he saw Trixie’s light up next to it. He glanced over and saw a text flash up on the screen.

08/10/2016

Dan Bar: Hey Brian, it’s Dan from Essence on Friday. I hadn’t heard from you since we switched numbers and I just thought I would make a last ditch attempt at asking you out. I know you’re going home today but I’m gonna be in WeHo a week from Thursday, so hit me up if you’re free and willing to waste some time on me. x

And just who the fuck is this? I don’t know a Dan. Does he know a Dan? From Friday? And then suddenly he remembered - they had gone out to a bar on Friday, and this short Jewish guy had been eyeing up Trixie all night. He was cute, sure, but he hadn’t been Trixie’s type at all. He didn’t have a chance with him, right? Well, I’m not Trixie’s type either… What was he gonna do if Trixie actually went on a date with this guy? He had basically told him that he wanted Trixie to not be starting something with him just because he was lonely. So maybe this would be perfect - he could go out with this guy on a couple of dates and boost his confidence up, and then come straight back to Katya’s apartment after date number three and finally fuck his brains out. That could work. Man, I should have fucked him last night so that he knew just how great it would be with me before I basically send him on a date with someone else. Didn’t think that one through, did you Barbra?

“I swear to god, that water pressure is so powerful that if you could move that shower head around I would use it for sexual pleasure.” Trixie came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh god. Oh my fucking god. If you stand in front of me like that for one more fucking second I am going to go back on my self-control and test out that shower head theory with you right now. God damn it you bitch, trying to give me a boner at this time in the morning.”

Trixie shot Katya a lopsided smirk. “My plan is working, I see.”

Oh god, now he’s teasing you on purpose. You sure you wanna be the bigger person? Because I’m pretty sure you could just bend him over that breakfast bar right now and–

“You bet your ass it’s working. You cunt. Now go and pack my bag, we need to be out of here by 2.”

“Nice try. Do it yourself, whore.”

“I’ve already done myself this morning after the blue balls you gave me last night, mama.”

“Excuse me, if I had got my way you would be feeling very satisfied and have balls lighter than a feather this morning. So go pack.”

The pair erupted into laughter from across the room, and shared a complacent smile. Katya was relieved that nothing had changed between them. Trixie walked towards him and picked up his phone from the coffee table. Here we go. He watched as Trixie picked up his phone and read the text, face giving nothing away. He peeked in the direction of Katya for half a second and then locked the screen, seemingly without replying. Katya couldn’t help himself.

“Anyone interesting texted you?” Clever. Now you’ve made it obvious you looked at his phone. He looked over at Trixie with a smile he knew was nowhere near as casual as he was trying to make it.

Trixie smiled back knowingly. “Mmhm. The guy that came on to me on Friday, remember I gave him my number? He’s asked to take me out next week, he’s gonna be in WeHo.”

“Ah, cool. Yeah, that’s cool. Coolcoolcool.” Katya opened his can of Red Bull and drank the whole thing in one go, as slowly as he could. Great delay tactics there, Brenda. Really looking like you’re not jealous at all. “So you’re gonna go then, huh?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

Katya finally allowed himself to look up from his can and at Trixie’s face. He had just a hint of a smile resting on his face, but the sincerity of what he was saying shone through. This wasn’t the time for joking.

“On me?”

“Yeah, girl, you. Are we gonna… watch Mean Girls again or will you have a new favourite movie by next week?”

And there it was. Trixie was never going to really put his all into whatever could be here because of Katya’s past. He didn’t think he would be capable of anything more than being the “sexually fluid and committedly promiscuous trade Slut” he had been for the past few years. What the fuck was I meant to do while you were going through a parade of cunty guys who treated you like shit? Sit there and wait until my dick fell off for you to realise that you may possibly have a great catch over here? Not my gay ass, mama. And if I’m so unreliable, why did YOU start things last night? And why was I the one to be sensible? And why can I still only think of your fucking fingertips tracing my skin and making me feel like I was on the biggest trip of my life? How is that healthy for either of us? He noticed Trixie shifting uncomfortably on his feet and realised his internal monologue of all the things he wished he could say had probably gone on for too long and that the frustration on his face was becoming clear. He couldn’t think straight. He had to end this conversation now before it became an external monologue and he said something to hurt his favourite person in the world.

“Well you know, I’ve never really had a favourite movie… just a top 10 that I watch in rotation.” Katya could feel himself distancing as he always did. Don’t do it. Show him that he’s all you want. “I don’t really believe that anyone ever has just one perfect… movie… for them.” Yes you do. “I think that there are lots of movies that can make you feel the same way that your favourite movie makes you feel.” You can still feel him touching you, you liar. “I don’t think you should get too attached to a film, to be honest.” Now or never, Barbra. Looks like you’ve chosen never.

#see you in april #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #angst #smut #tw drugs #tw alcohol #nqotb #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

44 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 8 years

Text

wingwomen ch2 (trixya, shalaska) - lale

A/N: thanks for all the feedback on chapter 1! Keep looking out for new installments this week :)

Alaska grumbled to herself as she walked into her social studies class, swinging her bag onto her desk and dropping into her seat. Her phone buzzed where it was tucked into the waistband of her skirt, and she took it out and saw that she had a whatsapp.

Bozo 🤡: don’t embarrass me!

Bozo 🤡: just be nice to her. casual. don’t be weird!

Bozo 🤡: i mean it

Queen of the snakes 🐍: calm down, weirdo, this was all your idea!

Bozo 🤡: and it’s a fucking good one! i want you to tell me every single thing you say.

Queen of the snakes 🐍: she just walked in. i told her you’re in love with her.

Bozo 🤡: 😡😡😡

Bozo 🤡: what’s she wearing??? That dress yesterday was amazingly hideous. kinda love it, kinda wanna burn it

Alaska looked up, watching Katya cross the room and take a seat at the desk diagonally behind her own.

Queen of the snakes 🐍: all pink, super cute!

Bozo 🤡: ??????

Queen of the snakes 🐍: 😂

Bozo 🤡: you fucking bitch, die

Queen of the snakes 🐍: today’s outfit is a shirt with at least four patterns on. All horrible. She’s got a bow in her hair, though.

Bozo 🤡: omfg

Queen of the snakes 🐍: it’s black. I think she might be wearing a necklace made of cigarettes?

Bozo 🤡: stop lying you rotted whore!

Queen of the snakes 🐍: im not! i’ll send you a snapchat

Bozo 🤡: don’t you fucking dare!!! She’ll think you’re a total freak

Queen of the snakes 🐍: i can be sneaky!!

Bozo 🤡: 😡

Queen of the snakes 🐍: fine, weirdo. i’ll text you after class

Bozo 🤡: BE NICE ABOUT ME

Alaska tucked her phone away again, rolling her eyes at Trixie overdramatic reaction. Yes, maybe she had a tiny, miniscule crush on Sharon Needles, but she’d never gone this crazy over her, especially not when she’d only just met her. Apart from that time she’d walked into a door because she was distracted by Sharon back in their Freshman year, but that had only been because Sharon had just dyed her hair peroxide blonde for the first time and Alaska hadn’t been able to resist staring at her.

She took a deep breath, then plastered a grin onto her face as she turned to face Katya.

“Hiee!” she chirped, crossing one long leg neatly over the other. Katya blinked at her in surprise, full red lips parted.

Hi?” she repeated, sounding unsure of herself.

“My name’s Alaska. What’s yours?” Alaska asked. Of course, she already knew exactly who she was, but she didn’t think that was the best way to introduce herself.

“Katya,” Katya replied, still looking a little wary. “You are one of the cheerleaders, yes?”

“Yeah!” Alaska agreed, pleased for an easy way to try to steer the conversation towards Trixie.

“You stare at us yesterday,” Katya said, eyes narrowing. “You and the one who look like pink doll.”

“Barbie?” Alaska asked, feeling her stomach sink at the hostile turn in Katya’s tone.

“Da! Her name is Barbie also?” she replied, cocking her head.

“No! Her name’s Trixie. She just looks like a Barbie,” Alaska explained. Katya crossed her arms over her chest.

“I have seen Heathers movie. Cheerleaders are bitches, you do not stare to be nice,” she said.

“No! We’re nice, I swear,” Alaska said, her face hot with embarrassment. Had they been that obvious in the way they’d been watching Sharon and Katya the day before? Had Sharon always noticed Alaska stealing glances at her?

“Is because Sharon is gay?” Katya asked bluntly.

“Of course not. I’m gay, and so is Trixie. She’s the head of the LGBT club here,” Alaska said, proud of herself for bringing things back to Trixie.

“Oh. And Barbie is your girlfriend?” Katya asked, sounding curious now. Alaska felt triumphant, like she’d successfully defused a bomb.

“Oh, no way. I mean, we kissed once, but it was gross, like kissing my sister. I mean, she’s not a bad kisser! Far from it. I’ve only heard good things. Not that kisses a lot of girls! But she has kissed some, and lots of people want to kiss her!” Alaska felt like she was watching herself from outside her body as she rambled on, her words getting quicker and voice higher as she dug herself deeper and deeper into a hole. As soon as she got the chance to talk Trixie up she’d managed to insult her kissing skills, suggest she was a slut and ended up talking absolute garbage.

Katya was smiling at her, though, apparently amused by her nonsense rambling. Or maybe she just hadn’t understood it all, Alaska thought hopefully.

“You are weird,” she decided, giving Alaska an approving nod.

“Yeah,” Alaska agreed, shrugging. “So, Trixie and I usually have lunch –“ She was cut off by their teacher shouting over the chatter in the room, getting everyone’s attention, and Katya shifted her focus before Alaska could finish inviting her to lunch with them. Oh well, she’d still made progress. It seemed that they hadn’t made the best impression on Katya, but she thought she’d managed to talk her around.

Queen of the snakes 🐍: she asked me about you

Bozo 🤡: ?????????

Queen of the snakes 🐍: she kept calling you Barbie

Bozo 🤡: today is the day i die

Bozo 🤡: this is the best moment of my LIFE

Bozo 🤡: did she say anything else???

Queen of the snakes 🐍: pretty sure she hated us before i talked to her

Bozo 🤡: omg why

Queen of the snakes 🐍: she saw us staring yesterday. i think sharon doesn’t like us

Bozo 🤡: but Katya doesn’t hate me now, right??

Queen of the snakes 🐍: thanks for the sympathy bitch

Bozo 🤡: Sharon hates everyone, it’s her thing

Queen of the snakes 🐍: you’re so helpful

Bozo 🤡: don’t you worry, i’m gonna change her mind. i’m the best wingwoman!

Queen of the snakes 🐍: who exactly have you been a wingwoman for??

Bozo 🤡: Shea and Sasha, at Pearl’s holiday party!!!

Queen of the snakes 🐍: drunkenly crying over them when you found them making out doesn’t count as being a wingwoman

Bozo 🤡: close enough! trust me, this is going to be amazing. she’ll be in love with you by lunch

***

Usually, Trixie was one of the first ones to all of her classes. She was a good student, and she liked to take a moment to settle herself before class began so that she could focus properly. Today, however, she forced herself to hang around by her locker until just before the bell for next period rang. She was one of the last people to arrive at her Algebra class, which left only one seat for her to take – the one next to Sharon Needles at the back of the classroom.

“Shit, how can you even see from back here? Do I need glasses?” she muttered to herself, squinting at the board. Really, she thought to herself, the things she sacrificed for Alaska. She was a great friend.

She couldn’t believe Katya had asked about her. Had she made an impression on her already? She couldn’t help the small, excited grin that spread across her face. Did Katya think she was cute? Alaska would have said if Katya had been asking because she thought her makeup was awful or something.

Knowing Alaska’s conversation with Katya had gone so well made her determined to do her part for her best friend. Her immediate crush on Katya had given her a little taste of how Alaska must have been feeling this whole time for Sharon, and Trixie didn’t know how she didn’t go insane with it. She felt like she was buzzing, filled with pent up nervous energy as she considered what Katya thought of her, and what would happen if she tried to talk to her. She couldn’t! She was too nervous. It made sense now why Alaska had always resisted her urges to just suck it up and talk to Sharon. It didn’t matter, anyway; Trixie was going to make this happen for her.

The advantage to sitting in the back of the room was that she could talk to Sharon without being overheard as long as she was careful. They’d had several classes together over the years, but Trixie had never actually really talked to her before; Sharon always kept to herself, and Trixie usually partnered with Pearl or Fame if she needed to. Today, though, she was going to make the effort for Alaska.

“Sharon,” she hissed, leaning over towards her.

“No,” Sharon said, not missing a beat. She didn’t even look at Trixie, focused on scratching chips of black paint off of her nails. Trixie blinked at her, taken aback.

“But I just –“

“No,” Sharon repeated. Trixie gaped at her. She hadn’t prepared for Sharon refusing to even talk to her. This never happened – she was a cheerleader! Everyone always wanted to talk to the cheerleaders.

“Sharon, please,” she tried one more time, and Sharon finally lifted her head, giving Trixie a withering stare that made her shrink in her seat.

“Fuck off,” she said succinctly.

Trixie looked back towards the front of the room, still shocked by the hostile response she’d received. She was definitely going to have to rethink her plan.

***

Sharon sat down on the grass that afternoon, Katya hot on her heels. The cheerleaders were already gathered together, and she watched as Alaska and Trixie drifted to the pack of the group to stand together and gossip as they did every day. A cigarette packet appeared under her nose, and she blinked and looked over at Katya’s grinning face.

“You stare at cheerleaders,” she said, putting a cigarette between her lips and lighting it easily before offering her lighter to Sharon.

“They always look over here. Probably bitching about me,” Sharon said, lighting up her own cigarette and leaning back on her palms.

“One talked to me today,” Katya told her, exhaling a long plume of smoke and crossing her legs out in front of her.

“Which one?” Sharon asked.

“The tall one. Standing at back,” Katya said.

“The pretty one?” Sharon said, watching Alaska as she talked to Trixie.

“Friend.”

“Trixie? With the makeup?” Sharon asked. Had Trixie decided to spend her day trying to talk to any weirdo she could find?

“Not Barbie! Alaskaaa,” Katya said, drawing out her name in a pretty accurate impression of Alaska’s distinctive drawl. Sharon snickered.

“Wait, are you calling Trixie Mattel the pretty one?”

“Da! Beautiful,” Katya said, her gaze focused on Trixie.

“You really are fucked in the head,” Sharon said, getting a cloud of smoke blown in her face for her troubles.

Trixie was pretty enough, sure, but Sharon didn’t like her. They’d never spoken before today and she was still rattled by Trixie’s attempts to talk to her. She thought she’d played off her discomfort pretty well, and it had certainly been satisfying to tell Trixie to fuck off.

Sharon knew what girls like Trixie were like. She’d seen every movie where the cheerleaders liked to fuck with the weird kids, so she knew better than to think that Trixie might have been trying to be nice. Trixie might have been the head of the LGBT club, but she was still a cheerleader first and foremost. Lesbian or not, Sharon didn’t trust her.

“What was Alaska talking to you for?” she asked Katya, who was already stubbing out the butt of her first cigarette and taking another from the pack.

“She was nice. Strange. Talked to me about kissing Barbie,” Katya said.

“What the fuck? Are they a thing now?” Sharon asked in surprise. An irrational flash of jealousy shot through her at the thought of Alaska kissing Trixie.

“She said it was gross. Got embarrassed, very funny,” Katya explained, shrugged. “Weird girl. Like you! I like her.”

“She’s not like me. She’s cool,” Sharon said, venom seeping into her voice.

“You’re cool!”

“You’re crazy,” Sharon shot back. She wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up friends with Katya. She’d turned up at school one day and decided that Sharon was going to be her friend. That had probably come from being able to tag along on Sharon’s smoke breaks, she thought. Whatever the reason, she was glad to have her crazy Russian friend around. She didn’t like anyone at their school, not really, but she still got lonely sometimes, spending her days by herself.

“You really do not like them, no?” Katya said. Alaska and Trixie glanced over at them, then turned around again. They seemed to be discussing something important, from the look of concentration on Trixie’s face – not that it was easy to tell what she was feeling with the layers of makeup on her face.

“They’re bitches. I don’t trust them. Haven’t you seen Carrie? The cool kids pretend to make friends with the loser and then they throw pig blood over her.”

“Pig blood not so bad,” Katya replied with a shrug. “Beside, loser girl murders them all with her mind! That could be you,” she added, beaming at Sharon.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Sharon replied. “I just feel like they were planning on tricking us or something. Trixie tried to talk to me in Algebra, but I told her to fuck off.”

“Barbie? You bitch!” Katya said, eyes going wide.

“You’ve never even met her!”

Katya looked back over at Trixie and Alaska, slowly exhaling a lungful of smoke.

“Beautiful,” she said after a moment, a serene smile on her face.

“Shallow bitch,” Sharon laughed. She looked over at Trixie and Katya, who were finally paying attention to the other cheerleaders. Trixie had a nice figure, with wide hips and thick thighs, but Sharon thought Alaska was the prettier of the two of them.

“Not all cheerleaders are bitch,” Katya said, stubbing out her cigarette.

“Sure they are! They’re all bitches,” Sharon rebutted.

“You talk to Willam! She cheerleader,” Katya pointed out.

“Willam is Willam. Also, she’s not a cheerleader, they kicked her out. Besides, she’s the only one here who can always find a good weed dealer,” Sharon said, waving a hand dismissively.

“You are impossible! Talk to Barbie. Be nice! Get me her number,” Katya said, winking overdramatically at her. Sharon groaned, shaking her head but laughing at how ridiculous she was.

“Alaska was really nice to you?” she asked. There was a spark of hope in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what it was about Alaska that had always caught her attention, but for whatever reason a tiny part of her had hoped that Alaska was nicer than the other cheerleaders.

“Da! Sharon. You sit here and watch every day. Alaska was nice. Maybe Trixie was going to be, too!” Katya said, bumping her shoulder against Sharon’s. “I talk to Alaska for you, yes? Make sure she is not mean cheerleader bitch. I see you look,” Katya said. Sharon whipped her head to face her, cheeks burning hot.

“What? No! I don’t like her,” she insisted, fiercely embarrassed. Katya screeched with laughter at her.

“I help you get girl. Trust me! I talk to Alaska, you be nice to Barbie. Deal?”

Sharon buried her head in her hands. Sometimes, she really, really wished she’d never let herself make friends with this crazy bitch.

#alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #shalaska #cisgirl au #lale #rpdr fanfiction #submission #wingwomen #lesbian au #high school au

135 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 8 years

Text

girls like dollies chapter 2 (trixya) - lale

A/N: thanks for the love for the first two parts! I’m really loving writing this, I hope you enjoy! As always, much love to kate-boosh for creating such gorgeous trixya art!

It took Trixie a few seconds to realize she was staring at Katya like an idiot. The other girls were looking at her, and she quickly did her best to snap herself out of it.

“Hi! Apparently you have my schedule?” she said, grateful that she managed not to totally trip over her own words as she pulled herself together.

Katya cocked her head, her forehead scrunching up. She went from gorgeous to adorable in no time at all. “Schedule? I do not even know that word! I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said, throwing her hands up. Her accent was thick, and Trixie immediately felt embarrassed. If her English wasn’t good, Trixie didn’t want to confuse her.

“Oh, um…they said they gave it to you?” she said lamely, grasping for the right words.

Ginger let out a huffing noise, moving past Trixie to sit on one of the beds. The two sides of the room were decorated in totally different styles. Ginger’s bed was surrounded by posters for musicals and stage shows, and she had neatly arranged floral bedsheets with a few cushions scattered over the top. The other side, which had to be Katya’s, sported an abstract composition of random magazine cuttings and pictures stuck up on the walls, and her unmade bed had a bright clash of red and purple sheets.

“Bitch, stop confusing this poor girl,” Ginger said. Katya laughed, a huge, wheezing laugh that made it seem like Ginger had said the funniest thing in the world. Trixie felt a sudden, desperate urge to make her laugh like that.

“Okay, okay. You never let me have any fun,” Katya said, no trace of an accent left in her words. She turned to her desk, which was covered by a mountain of books and other random items, and looked around for a moment before producing a crumpled sheet of paper. “Da! Here it is,” she said, unfolding it. “Tracy Martel, drama program.”

“What? Did they get my name wrong?” Trixie said in alarm, reaching for the schedule. Katya let her take it, a bright smile on her face. “Oh. Trixie Mattel. Why did you call me that?” she said, surprised.

“Sorry, Tamara,” Katya said carelessly, waving a hand at her. Trixie blushed. Having someone insist on calling her by the wrong name felt like it should be an insult, but it didn’t come across that way. The other girls certainly didn’t seem to think anything of it, so she decided that Katya couldn’t have been being mean.

“What have you been doing with yourself this afternoon?” Ginger asked Katya, who’d flopped down onto her bed and stretched her legs wide. Her skirt slid up her pale thighs, and Trixie felt her cheeks heat up. She looked away quickly.

“I went down to the art studio for a while, but it was so quiet. Maybe I’ll tag along to drama tomorrow,” Katya said, shrugging.

“What program are you in?” Trixie asked curiously.

“Oh, I’m not,” Katya said nonchalantly. Trixie blinked. As far as she knew, everyone at RuPaul’s had to be part of one of the specialist programs they offered. There were enough to choose from, that she knew well from how many times she’d read the academy’s brochures: you could focus on drama or art or design or dance or sport, and get some of the best training in the whole country. She opened her mouth to ask Katya what on earth she was doing at RuPaul’s if she wasn’t studying any of those things, but Ginger cut in before she could speak.

“I’m starving! Trixie, let’s go and see if the girls are back from art. I’m sure Kim won’t appreciate us stealing you away for your first dinner here,” she said, standing up. “Miss Katya, are you coming with us today?”

“Da! I heard whispers about pizza,” Katya said, eyes bright as she leapt to her feet.

“Girl, you say that every day. There’s never pizza,” Jinkx pointed out from the doorway. Katya waved a hand.

“We live in hope, darling,” she drawled. Trixie laughed, and Katya turned that stunning smile towards her.

That smile…it gave her butterflies. Katya was gorgeous, and in the few minutes Trixie had spent around her she’d already proven herself to be hilarious and a little mysterious. Trixie was utterly captivated by her already. Katya pranced ahead of them down the hallway, and Trixie watched her messy blonde hair bounce around her shoulders.

She had a girl crush, that was what it was. She’d felt like this before, with the gorgeous girl in the grade above her whose boyfriend had the locker next to Trixie the year before, and the girl who lived two doors down from their old house. She was fascinated by how beautiful they were, how cool and funny they were – she wanted to be them. That was all it was, no matter what anyone said about her. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t.

Thankfully, Kim emerged from her room in time to rescue her from her own thoughts. “Trixie! How was drama?” she asked. Despite her afternoon spent in the art studio, she looked pristine; Pearl, however, who was stood behind her, had hands covered in paint and a streak of blue up the sleeve of her sweater.

“It was incredible,” Trixie said honestly. Kim beamed back at her.

“Was she amazing? She was always the best back in Milwaukee,” Kim said to the others. Trixie flushed, embarrassed but pleased by Kim’s words.

“She’s marvelous,” Max said, giving Trixie a kind smile. The other girls were nodding along, and Katya raised an eyebrow at her.

“Marvelous? Maybe I really will drop by the theatre and see this for myself,” she suggested, a bright smile on her face.

“Can we go?” Pearl said, saving Trixie from having to respond. Katya didn’t shift her focus from her, though, a surprising amount of intensity in her gaze. Trixie had to look away, her stomach full of butterflies.

“So impatient! Someone wants to see a certain other someone whose name begins with V,” Jinkx teased in a singsong voice.

“Shut up! It’s not that, I’m just hungry,” Pearl insisted, rolling her eyes and trying to look irritated but looking more embarrassed than anything. “There’s nothing going on with me and Violet.”

“Oh, so I suppose you two were just having an innocent slumber party last week?” Kim cut in. Katya squawked loudly, dissolving into wheezing laughter. The others laughed too, though Trixie thought that may have been as much to do with Katya’s reaction than anything. Pearl had turned bright red.

“You were asleep!” she spluttered.

“I wish I was,” Kim told her with a straight face. “I can never unhear those noises. They fill my nightmares.”

Trixie looked between them, trying to hide her surprise. Was Pearl a lesbian? It certainly sounded like it. Kim didn’t sound bothered by the fact that Pearl had apparently had sex with another girl in their room.

“I think you scared the new girl,” Ginger said, a smirk on her face.

“Don’t tell me you have a problem with girls who love girls, Trixie,” Pearl said, apparently having shaken off enough of her embarrassment to give Trixie a questioning look.

“Of course Tracy doesn’t! Do you?” It was Katya who spoke, cocking her head as she waited for Trixie’s response.

“No! I don’t care what you do,” Trixie said quickly. She didn’t care who any of the girls were attracted to. She wasn’t gay, that she knew, but it didn’t matter if any of the others were. Katya nodded in approval, a proud expression on her face.

“She’s a good one,” she announced, linking her arm through Trixie’s. Trixie let her, too surprised to question how quickly Katya was willing to decide they were friends. Katya kept their arms looped together as they walked down to the dining hall a few steps ahead of the others.

“Are you really Russian?” Trixie asked, unable to help her curiosity about Katya’s disappearing accent. She laughed, waggling her eyebrows at Trixie.

“Why would I give away all my secrets, Tallulah?” she said playfully.

“I suppose I should take that as a yes,” Trixie said dryly. Katya laughed again, loudly and freely.

“Da. I’ve been going to school over here for years, though. I sound like you American girls now,” she said, adopting an exaggerated Southern accent.

“Don’t you miss your family?” Trixie asked.

Katya shrugged. “It’s alright. I can still talk to them and see them in the holidays. How about you? It must be weird for you, your first time away.”

“Oh, um. No, it’s okay. I hadn’t really thought about it too much, to be honest,” Trixie replied. It wasn’t even a lie; she’d been so caught up in the excitement of how good things had been so far at RuPaul’s that she’d barely thought about her family back at home. She didn’t even know if her mom knew where she was.

“At least you know Kimberly! I would say she can look after you, but we all know she can’t even look after herself,” Katya said solemnly.

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Kim said from behind them. Trixie looked around at her, and Kim looked pointedly between Trixie and Katya, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Trixie just shrugged, giving her a bemused look in return. She was just as surprised that Katya had taken such a shine to her, but she wasn’t going to fight it. Katya was possibly the most enigmatic person she’d ever come across, beautiful and hilarious and full of energy. No wonder Trixie had such a girl crush on her.

When they reached the dining hall, half of the tables were already filled and there was a short queue for food. Katya sniffed the air, then gasped dramatically. “You all doubted me!” she said, turning and pointing accusingly at the other girls.

“Pizza,” Ginger said, looking shocked. “Katya…was right? Girls, the impossible has happened. The end of the world is here!” she said, drawing a cross over her chest and pretending to bow her head in prayer.

“You fucking bitch,” Katya replied, but she was laughing as she dragged Trixie over to line up for pizza. Trixie was starting to get the impression that she might be spending a fair amount of time in the near future being dragged around by Katya. She didn’t mind that idea at all.

By the time Trixie got back to her new bedroom, she was exhausted but buzzing after what she decided had been a successful first afternoon. The pizza for dinner hadn’t been the best, but she’d hardly cared given the company. She’d met Violet, Pearl’s not-girlfriend, though she wasn’t sure she’d made the best first impression with her. Not that it had been her fault – Katya, sat opposite her, had accompanied Kim’s introduction of Violet with crude hand gestures and silent orgasm impressions, and Trixie had struggled to keep a straight face. She’d decided that the reason Katya seemed so cool was that she genuinely didn’t seem to care about anything. Everything she said seemed to be an attempt to make people laugh, and most of the time her humour came from a sentence of randomly strung together words that somehow became hilarious when it was coming out of Katya’s mouth.

If Katya had been a guy, Trixie thought she definitely would have had a crush. But she was a girl, and Trixie wasn’t gay. It was a girl crush. That was a totally different thing – she wanted to be friends with Katya, and be more like her. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

Pearl had disappeared off with Violet on the way back to their room, so it was just Trixie and Kim. Trixie opened up her suitcase to unpack properly, since she hadn’t had time to do more than change when she’d first arrived.

“I’m so happy that you’re finally here,” Kim said, crossing the room to help her. “I felt like I hadn’t heard from you in ages! Were you trying to keep it a surprise?”

“No. I just…didn’t know how to tell you everything,” Trixie admitted. Kim frowned, pausing in her task of stacking Trixie’s clothes on her bed.

“What happened?” she asked. Trixie sighed, perching on the edge of her bed.

She told Kim everything. What her stepfather had done, how she hadn’t known that she was going to get taken away until the moment she got home and saw the social worker. How she’d gone from group home to group home until she’d managed to get the audition for RuPaul’s. How she still hadn’t spoken to her mom and didn’t know if she would anytime soon.

As awful as it all was, it felt therapeutic to get the story off her chest. Kim had her arms wrapped around her by the end, holding her in a protective hug.

“But what made him do it? Did he just snap?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Oh…yeah. He’d just had enough of me, I guess,” Trixie said evasively. What was she supposed to say? My sister told him that people at school say I’m a lesbian because I look at other girls? She wasn’t. She wasn’t! What was the point in going into it with Kim when it wasn’t even true?

“I’m so sorry, Trixie. At least you’re here now. You never have to see that asshole again,” Kim said. Her lisp made her angry words sound comical, and Trixie managed a laugh.

“I’m so glad I’m here. Everyone seems so nice,” she said.

“They are! And you always wanted to be able to take acting more seriously. This place is perfect for you,” Kim agreed. “Katya seems to really like you.”

Trixie couldn’t help but blush. “She’s cool. Absolutely crazy, but really cool,” she said.

“Oh, she’s a total weirdo. But everyone loves her,” Kim said. She stood up, going back to piling Trixie’s clothes for her neatly. Trixie put everything away, only keeping out pyjamas.

“What are the classes like?” she asked.

“Fine. Pretty normal, except there’s barely anyone in each class. You can’t sleep through them like you can in Milwaukee,” Kim said. Trixie groaned. “Hey, it won’t be so bad. You have most of your classes with Katya, right? She’ll keep you entertained,” Kim pointed out.

Trixie smiled at the thought. “Yeah, I guess I got lucky,” she agreed. She changed into her pyjamas and climbed into her new bed. It felt a little strange to settle into a new room, but it was a familiar feeling to her now after her weeks shuffled between group homes. She grabbed her phone from the beside table, plugging it in to charge overnight. The screen lit up, and she swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. Still nothing from her mom. Did she even care that Trixie was gone?

She pushed the thought aside, tapping on the facebook icon instead.

Max Malanaphy added you as a friend

Miss Fame added you as a friend

Jinkx Monsoon added you as a friend

Katya Zamolodchikova added you as a friend

Ginger Minj added you as a friend

Alaska Thunderfuck added you as a friend

Pearl Liason added you as a friend

Kim Chi mentioned you in a status update

A smile spread across her face. She accepted all of the friend requests, and went straight to Katya’s page. Her cover picture was a shot of Katya and some of the other girls in dorky poses, and her profile picture captured her stunning smile. Trixie couldn’t find much else on her page, but she couldn’t resist scrolling through her pictures for a minute before going to see what Kim had said about her.

Kim Chi is feeling happy! So excited to have my sister Trixie Mattel at school with me at last!

Katya Zamolodchikova, Jinkx Monsoon and 5 other people liked this

Katya Zamolodchikova: welcome to the madhouse, Tracy

Trixie smiled at Katya’s comment, tapping the like button on the status and the comment. “You’re such a fucking loser,” she said fondly to Kim.

“You love me anyway,” Kim said, grinning over at her from her bed.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” Trixie agreed. She put her phone down, snuggling under her covers. Who cared if she hadn’t heard from her mom? She was reunited with her best friend, and she’d already made friends with so many new girls. RuPaul’s was living up to everything she’d imagined it could be so far, and she’d only been there a few hours.

“I really am glad you’re here, Trixie,” Kim said in a softer voice.

“Me too,” Trixie said back, smiling into the darkness.

#rpdr fanfiction #girls like dollies #lale #high school au #lesbian au #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #kim chi #pearl liaison #pearlet #cisgirl au #tw discussion of abuse #tw internalized transphobia #tw internalized homophobia #submission

126 notes · View notes