#so what Trixie is really suggesting is a movie night with Katya

[petrovna-zamo]

My best friend is gay & rich…

[artificialqueens]

Drabble Compilation (Trixya, Biadore) - Candy Cane

A/N: a bunch of drabbles ive written over on my side blog @sillylittlecandycane !! im accepting prompts over there if you are interested uwu here’s the list of everything in here: 1.) Trixya, half drag dance challenge 2.) Trixya, pregnant!Katya 3.) Biadore, “If I puke, will you hold my hair back?" 4.) Trixya, pregnant!Katya sequel 5.) Trixya, "You’ve been crying, I can tell." 6.) Biadore, Adore visiting Bianca in Palm Springs

1.) Trixya, half drag dance challenge For a split second there Katya was ecstatic about being Trixie’s partner for this challenge, then she remembered she has a huge fucking crush and is definitely going to wind up making a fool out of herself. Trixie’s clearly excited though, so Katya decides she’ll try to swallow down those feelings, and focus on keeping that smile on Trixie’s face.

Neither of them are really dancers, but Trixie definitely is a country girl, so she’s somewhat more familiar with it than Katya. The older is still nervous, she’s not used to this kind of thing, not by any stretch of the imagination. She’s done choreo before, any given drag queen has, she just hasn’t had to learn it in such a short amount of time before.

After learning what they could with the instructor and are back in the workroom to practice, Trixie turns to Katya and grabs her hands. Katya stares down at them with wide eyes, just now registering she’s been dancing with Trixie.

Cute, sexy, funny fucking Trixie.

“We have so got this,” Trixie says, all the confidence in the world embodied in that tone.

Katya looks into Trixie’s eyes and smiles back, “Okay, yeah. We’ve got this.”

It’s exhilarating to have so much confidence in herself, and then to have some in her partner as well. It’s so different from what she’s used to. They’ve still got work to do to make sure they nail this thing all the way to the core of the earth, it’s just not so terrifying anymore. It feels good, it really does.

2.) Trixya, pregnant!Katya Katya’s at the point where she is seriously regretting being pregnant. At the end of the day, it was her choice, but sometimes she thinks it was a bad one. Everything fucking hurts, she’s constantly hungry, she can’t sleep right anymore, and she is always horny. This is just the worst thing ever.

What doesn’t suck is how sweet and loving Trixie, her fucking wife, has been. Katya doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the fact that Trixie is her wife. It’s so surreal! She’s like the best wife ever. Always getting her whatever she wants or needs, even if it’s 2 am and she’s being absolutely ridiculous, Trixie is there to help her and make the best out of a sucky situation.

Katya cuddles closer to Trixie, listening to the soothing sound of the younger’s heartbeat. She’s going to have a baby with this girl. They’re growing their family and it’s just… it’s perfect.

Trixie gently tugs her fingers through Katy’s messy blonde hair as they watch some stupid Lifetime movie. The domesticity of it all is wonderfully stupid. But it’s still stupid. She feels restless, she’s unable to go out and at least dance, she wants to do something.

“I’m bored,” Katya says, frowning slightly.

Trixie giggles a little, and it’s so fucking cute it hurts, “Okay, what do you wanna do?”

“We should go bungee jumping,” Katya says, keeping a straight face.

“Yeah, and then we’ll eat live bugs,” Trixie replies with an eye roll.

Their eyes meet and they erupt into laughter, holding onto each other and enjoying the moment. Katya sighs, and lays her head back down to Trixie’s chest, frowning.

“I’m seven months preggers, there’s like nothing I can do,” Katya groans.

Trixie combs her fingers through Katya’s hair again, “That’s not true. We can still play like uh, board games? We can go back to thinking of baby names, too. Can’t do any worse than my parents.”

Katya looks up at Trixie, a content smile on her lips. At least Trixie is trying for her, which is so much better than she feels she could’ve ever hoped for. The Russian pushes herself up to kiss her wife deeply.

“Or we could…” Katya mumbles against her, a sly offer.

Trixie giggles again, like music to Katya’s ears, “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

3.) Biadore, "If I puke, will you hold my hair back?"

Adore has drunk herself stupid, or stupid-er, again. She needed a night of insane drinking, and boy did she get it. Everyone is looking at her like she should be at rehab, but she doesn’t fucking care. A broken heart can’t be mended with alcohol, but it can be forgotten, at least for a little while.

She downs another shot, and out of the corner of her eyes she sees Detox and Willam laughing at her, while Bianca looks incredibly exasperated. Adore groans and lays her head against the counter, she feels awful and it definitely isn’t just her broken heart.

“B…” she mumbles, lifting a heavy arm to poke her friend.

Bianca rolls her eyes but looks down at her anyways, “What?”

“I don’ feel so good…” she whines, her words slurred.

“Well that’s what happens when you drink more in three hours than Willam does in one night,” Bianca snaps back, the disapproval in her voice strong.

“I’d be offended but you make a good point,” Willam says, giggling.

Adore huffs and stares at her bright red wig and the way it’s sprawled out in front of her. It’s one of her favorites, but it was also her ex’s favorite… God, she misses him so much it hurts like a bitch. Maybe she should throw out the wig, if it’s going to hurt her so much. It’s still a favorite though, and she refuses to allow that dickhead to take more from her than necessary.

Adore realizes she’s been zoning out, and reaches her hand out for Bianca. Her hand finds Bianca’s, and she squeezes it tightly. Bianca’s eyes meet hers, and Adore is overwhelmed with how wonderful and amazing this person is. Bianca’s is basically the definition of perfect, and Adore knows she’s lucky to even be her friend. Though that doesn’t really stop her from pining after Bianca.

“Bia…” Adore whines again.

“What?” Bianca sighs.

“Can we leave?” she asks, quiet and sad.

Bianca looks down at her, and must take some kind of pity, “Yeah, we can go.”

Ten minutes later they’re climbing into the back of an Uber, and Adore is quick to lay her head down in Bianca’s lap. Bianca rubs the back of her neck, and it feels really good because she’s starting to feel really ill.

Adore moans pathetically, “Yanks…”

“Yeah?” Bianca answers her.

“If I puke will you hold my hair back?”

“Sure, but then I’ll beat you up for puking all over me and this fucking car.”

Adore giggles, feeling slightly better with their usual banter, “Love you, Bia.”

“Love you too,” Bianca smiles softly.

4.) Trixya, pregnant!Katya sequel

For almost a year now, Katya’s life has been totally changed. Deciding to actually go through with physically having a child was big enough, but when she was actually pregnant? Everything changed.

Every decision she made impacted the baby. What she ate, what she wore, what she did… Every little thing impacted not just her anymore, but her child too. And she wouldn’t give it up for anything, because sitting here, holding that child in her arms, she knows it was all worth it.

Sitting here in the hospital bed, Katya is mesmerized by her baby. Her eyes are so startling blue, like Trixie’s, and her smile is so vibrant, like Trixie. Katya thinks her baby will be just like Trixie in so many ways. Katya hopes her daughter gets all her good traits, and none of her bad ones. This child helped to save her from addiction, Katya doesn’t want her to fall into it.  

“What are you thinking about?” Trixie whispers, leaning over her shoulder to look into their baby’s eyes.

“How we still haven’t named her,” Katya says, cupping her pretty face.

Trixie rolls her eyes, “Well, we would’ve had that one figured out by now if-” “Really? In front of the baby?” Katya says, trying to play all serious at first, then bursts into laughter at Trxiei’s surprised expression.

“You bitch,” Trixie laughs, lightly slapping Katya’s shoulder.

“But seriously, the kid needs a name,” Katya frowns, “We can’t keep calling her ‘the baby’ forever.”

“It’s only been a day,” Trixie shrugs, “But you’re right.” “I should give her a really complicated Russian name you can’t pronounce,” Katya teases.

“Do you hate me? Is that it?” Trixie plays along.

Katya kisses her though, and the way Trixie turns bright red gets her all emotional all over again.

“I’ve been in love with you since we met,” Katya reminds her once they break apart.

“We should name her Barbara,” Trixie giggles.

��Nevermind, you’re right, I do hate you.”

Trixie cackles, and the baby starts to fuss in response. Both immediately try to calm her down, and luckily do so with minimal effort.

“Maybe… Cherry?” Trixie suggests.

Katya looks at her, then realizes she;s being serious, “Really? Cherry?”

“We could put down like, Cheryl or something on paper, but Cherry is like red, and sweet, and cute…” Trixie explains, blushing some.

Katya purses her lips, looks down at her baby, and grins widely.

“Cherry suits her.”

5.) Trixya, "You’ve been crying, I can tell." There’s tear tracks down Trixie’s cheeks, her eyes are bright red, and she’s even sniffling. It makes Katy’s heart hurt. She doesn’t like to see Trixie upset, that girl is the last person on this earth who should ever cry.

“Katya-” Trixie says, jerking back when she sees the older, clearly having thought she was alone.

“What happened?” Katya asks, stepping forward instinctively. She wants nothing more than to hug her.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Trixie says, unable to meet Katya’s eyes.

Katya frowns, “You’ve been crying, I can tell.”

Trixie looks shocked, but still persists, “I’m fine.”

“I’m never going to believe that,” Katya says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Trixie finally admits.

“Okay, that I can understand,” Katya says, reaching forward to take Trixie’s hand in her own, “But… that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. We don’t have to talk, but let me be here for you. Please?”

Trixie looks up at Katya’s kind, worried eyes, completely taken aback by how genuine her friend is being. Trixie nods, unable to actually form any words, and is almost instantly wrapped up in a strong hug.

The younger places her head in the crook of Katya’s neck, and starts to cry all over again. She doesn’t feel so empty and alone now, though. She feels like maybe if she just stays in Katya’s arms, listening to her reassurances and absorbing her love, for a little while longer then everything will be okay.

6.) Biadore, Adore visiting Bianca in Palm Springs

The sun is shining brightly, the palm trees surrounding the pool sway in the breeze, and Danny feels more relaxed than they have in many, many months. They’re on their back in the center of the pool, letting themself drift and be one with the water. Usually they prefer to go straight to the source, they are a mermaid after all, but there’s something to be said about getting to be alone in the water with their boyfriend.

There’s no one else around, just the two of them, alone and having sexy, fun, romance together. Said boyfriend pops up out of the water  next to Danny, and peers over them, a smirk on his lips. Danny sits up so they’re not on their back anymore, and presses a little closer to Roy.

“Hi,” Roy chuckles, leaning in close to Danny’s lips.

Danny grins, “Hello yourself.”

Roy laughs, but kisses Danny anyways. The kiss is chaste, but still full of love and joy. Danny wraps their arms around Roy’s neck and goes in for another kiss, this one full and sloppy. Roy pushes Danny forward as they soak each other in, until Roy had Danny pinned to the concrete edge, his large hands spanning across Danny’s, currently tiny, hips.

The younger is bad at the whole self-care thing during work, which is one of the many reasons he’s happy to have them here. Now he has an excuse to get real food into Danny, and help them relax.

The two pull away from each other, breathless and smiling, and it’s perfect. The sun on their skin, the clear water around them, and neither would have it any other way.

“We should go annoy the neighbors with your golf cart this afternoon,” Danny suggests, smiling and close to laughter.

“Yeah,” Roy says, close to laughing himself, “We should.”

[writethehousedown]

Wrapped Up With You (Scyvie) - Peridot

A/N: Hey folks, merry Christmas! It’s been a while! I haven’t posted any fics in a few months but I got so inspired by this challenge that I’ve gotten back into writing! Here’s a little Scyvie fluff for y’all, I hope it gets you in the Christmas spirit! Big thank you to @artificialmeggie for being an amazing beta and for organising this entire thing, you’re a gem! You can find more of my writing over on AQ and you can give me any feedback either here or over at @artificialperidot. Hope you enjoy!

Yvie loved Christmas.

She loved the Christmas TV adverts, the cheesy Christmas cards with terrible puns, the ugly Christmas jumpers, she even loved the exhaustion of putting up the tree.

Christmas was undoubtedly her favourite season. It even beat Halloween for her, which was really saying something.

But if there was one thing Yvie just could not stand, it was wrapping presents.

And her hatred was slowly but surely turning her into more of a grinch.

Now, don’t get her wrong, she loved giving the presents. And she knew that it was what was inside the gift that really mattered. But she couldn’t help but feel inadequate when comparing her crumpled, disastrous wrapping to that of her girlfriend, Scarlet.

Scarlet’s presents were always a sight to behold. Beautiful, crisp neat wrapping paper folded around each gift; a colour-coded matching ribbon wrapped around and fashioned into a brilliant bow; a Christmas scent spritzed on the paper- chestnut or cinnamon or mint; and an extravagant tag, written in her best calligraphy, with her own original Christmas joke on each.

Scarlet’s presents weren’t just gifts; they were experiences.

Needless to say, Yvie was a little jealous.

Scarlet had always tried to help her, offering her wrapping suggestions and lending her bows and paper. Last year she even bought Yvie a few large gift bags to save her the trouble of wrapping all together. But, still, Yvie was adamant that she would wrap every single gift, no matter how horrible they looked, and the gift bags were left unopened.

But, this year, Yvie had a pretty important gift to give. And she was determined to make sure this one didn’t look like a piece of shit.

“So you’re telling me you’re actually going to let me help you wrap?” Scarlet beamed, squeezing her fists together like an excited little child. God, she was such a dork. A cute dork, though.

“Yes,” Yvie sighed, “but this is not an opportunity for you to wrap all my presents for me, okay?”

Scarlet jumped up and down, clapping her hands together with glee and producing a sort of enthusiastic squee. “This is going to be so much fun!”

With that, Scarlet shot up the stairs and returned with paper and boxes and tape and all bundled up in her arms, very nearly toppling over due to her lightning speed. Her arms overflowed with rolls of paper in golds and reds and greens, loose ribbons streaming out behind her. She dumped them all out on the table in front of them, before bolting back upstairs to her bedroom and coming back with a huge Santa sack, full to the brim with her unwrapped presents.

“Don’t get too excited,” Scarlet said matter-of-factly, “I made sure to take your presents out—no spoilers!”

Yvie shook her head in disbelief at the sheer enthusiasm of the girl. “Figures.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Yves? Go get your presents!”

“We don’t have to do it right now, baby. There’s no rush.”

“Are you kidding me? There is a rush! We need to get started before you change your mind!” Scarlet playfully shook Yvie by her shoulder. “So hurry up, go get your gifts! There’s no time to lose!”

Yvie sighed and chuckled to herself before reluctantly heading to her bedroom to retrieve her presents, which she had ‘creatively’ hidden under her bed. She made sure to leave Scarlet’s gift, though—she’d have to face the struggle of wrapping that one alone.

By the time Yvie had made it back to the table, Scarlet had already began playing her infamous Christmas playlist, and was furiously sellotaping silver paper around a box whilst humming along to Wham’s ‘Last Christmas.’

“Took your time, I see,” she laughed.

Yvie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but allow a smirk to form on her lips. “Let’s get this over with then, Scar. Where do I even start?”

“Well, first thing’s first. Cut out your wrapping paper.”

“Bold of you to assume I have any wrapping paper,” Yvie replied. “I guess I’ll need to borrow some of yours.”

“Well… I suppose you could use some of the red, so long as you don’t use all of it.”

Scarlet reluctantly handed over a roll to Yvie, before immediately beginning to cut out some more paper for her next gift (which happened to be a fan that she’d picked out for her friend Katya).

“Wait,” Yvie called, “how do you know how much to cut? What’s too much, what’s too little?”

“Uh, I guess it’s just instinct. Look at what you’re trying to wrap and see how much paper would make sense.”

Yvie set down her jar of honey (a joke gift she had bought for Katya’s girlfriend, Trixie) in the middle of the paper, and quickly realised that it wasn’t as simple as Scarlet had suggested. Her first attempt was far too small—it barely even reach around one side of the gift, never mind the whole thing. Her next attempt was far too big, and once she taped down the first side and attempted to fold the corners down, loose paper was left around each edge, crumpling and creasing.

“You can trim some of that off,” Scarlet had suggested.

Well, Yvie discovered that this was no easy task either. With only a few snips of her scissors Yvie had transformed the paper from massively excessive to way too little. And, as she has already taped it down, there was no going back now. It was ruined.

Yvie tried to patch up the gaps in her wrapping with more scrap pieces of paper here and there, but no matter how hard she tried it still appeared to be a ragged, crumpled mess. Not even Scarlet’s signature bow and tag could help- she ended up tying her ribbon into impossibly tight knots rather than bows, and the only Christmas-themed pun she could come up with was something about a lesbian who ‘needs (s)no(w)man,’ which, admittedly, was pathetic at best.

Maybe the gift bags weren’t looking like such a bad option after all.

“It’s no use,” Yvie sighed in frustration. “I can’t do it.”

“Aw Yves, it’s okay! You know that it’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

“Easy for you to say, little miss ‘I can wrap,’” Yvie scoffed in a mocking tone. “Not everyone can be perfect like you.”

Scarlet bit her lip, and Yvie could tell from her puppy-dog eyes that she’d hurt her a little, even though her insult was pretty harmless.

“Oh Scar, I’m sorry baby. It’s a compliment, really. I think your wrapping is awesome.”

Scarlet perked up a little after that, her brief sadness disintegrating in favour of a small smile. “Thanks Yvie. And, for the record, there’s nothing wrong with your wrapping. It’s the thought that counts!”

Yvie chuckled, and planted a small kiss on Scarlet’s forehead. It was impossible not to find her positivity endearing.

“I guess you’re right,” she shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Though as much as I’d love to wrap more presents with you, I don’t think I can take anymore. I think I’ll just give in and use gift bags instead.”

Scarlet smiled. “That’s okay, baby. I can finish mine up tomorrow.”

“Wanna cuddle and watch a Christmas movie with hot chocolate instead?” Yvie suggested.

“Hell yeah! Can we watch Home Alone?”

“Which one?”

Scarlet raised her eyebrow. “The first one, duh. The second one is okay too, but the others don’t count.”

“You read my mind exactly.”

***

On Christmas Eve night, Yvie snuck downstairs, arms bundled with wrapping paper and bows and scissors. She would wrap at least one present if it killed her. She was beyond the point of caring what it looked like, but she knew that she had to try her best.

For Scarlet.

***

When Christmas Day rolled around, Yvie was ready. She had her plan laid out and her gift wrapped, and she was ready to give it to Scarlet.

After the pair had opened all of the presents under the tree, Yvie produced a small envelope from her pocket, which she had attempted to wrap using the same red paper. In all honesty, it looked like a haphazard, crumpled mess; covered in rips, corners sticking out at all angles and an ungodly amount of crumpled sticky tape. It looked less like a gift and more like if someone had balled a sheet of paper to throw in the bin, to be frank. But, Yvie handed it over with a sense of pride nonetheless.

Despite the present’s appearance, Scarlet smiled at Yvie’s wrapping efforts (even though she questioned why she had even attempted to wrap an envelope in the first place.) Nevertheless, she tore off the paper, opened the envelope, and revealed a Christmas Card, with a photoshopped picture of Ross and Rachel wearing Santa hats, with Yvie’s face pasted over Ross’s and Scarlet’s on Rachel’s. She smirked and began to open the card, and, holding it up to her face, read the message that Yvie had scrawled aloud.

“To the love of my life,

Merry Christmas! Christmas has always been our favourite day, and this year I wanted to make it even more special. I couldn’t think of any good jokes to write on the tag, so I figured that instead I could make a Christmas wish….

Look down.”

Scarlet furrowed her brow in slight confusion, and pulled the card away from her face.

There she saw Yvie, down on one knee, with a perfectly wrapped small box perched on her hand. It was white with a gold ribbon and a gold tag to match, and looked just as though it had been wrapped by Scarlet herself. It was perfect.

Perhaps Yvie had picked up on some of Scarlet’s wrapping tips after all.

Scarlet’s jaw hung open and her eyes started to well up with tears. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going.

“Read the tag,” Yvie said with a smile.

“My angel, I hope you’ll grant my Christmas wish,” Scarlet read, choking back a sob.

“Scarlet, I love you. I want to spend every Christmas with you until the end of time,” Yvie proclaimed, holding back her own tears. “Will you marry me, Scarlet?”

With that, Yvie opened the wrapped box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, that shone as bright as the tears that reflected in Scarlet’s eye.

The ring was white gold. Just like the wrapping paper and ribbon.

With that, Scarlet let her floodgates open and uttered a stream of joyous ‘yeses’ through her tears, throwing her arms around Yvie’s neck at full throttle. Yvie stood up and held Scarlet tight, lifting her and whirling her around the room as her own tears began to stream, laughter and crying mingling into one concoction of joy.

They clung to each other for what felt like forever, emotions overcoming their words. It would be wrong to speak, to interrupt their feelings of true love with something so futile as words. There weren’t any words in the English language that could capture this feeling.

Yvie was positive that she would never let her go of Scarlet. Ever again.

“I love you so much, Yvie,” Scarlet was eventually able to murmur. “This was so perfect. You are perfect.”

“I love you too, Scarlet,” Yvie said, arms still entangled with hers. “You’re my best friend, and I never want to spend another Christmas without you.”

Scarlet reached her neck up and planted a deep, loving kiss on her lips. “You never will, Yvie.”

They stayed snuggled together on the sofa for a little while longer, each not quite ready to let go of the other yet. Scarlet tried on her ring which fit like a glove, and vowed that she would buy Yvie any ring that she wanted.

The two collided in another soft kiss, full of love and kindness and warmth. When they broke apart, Yvie looked down into Scarlet’s big, blue eyes that still had tears brimming their banks.

“Hey Scarlet?”

“Yeah Yvie?”

“You’re the best gift I’ve ever received.”

[remeny-writes]

Merry Christmas-ish Part 3

So this is for the @rpdrficexchange. I got matched up with @honeyedcurves and I really hope you like it. If you don't, I can write something different.

TW hospitals

“So I was thinking…”

“Always a dangerous activity.”

“Oh shut up!” Katya laughed then grew serious, “we should move our Christmas up to November 5th.”

Trixie could run one of two ways with this, he could tell Katya that a heart would come or he could crack a joke. He chose the latter, “you just want your present earlier, ya big ol’ baby!”

Katya elbowed him in the shoulder. “Why do you know me so well? You're so mean! But seriously can we?”

Trixie’s mouth hitched up on one side in a lopsided grin, “ok fine!”

He gave in just like Katya knew he would, playing perfectly into his plan.

They got the call on their special Christmas Eve, they were curled up watching a movie and eating lasagne, well more precisely Trixie was eating and Katya was pushing the food around on his plate before pushing the plate away all together and grumbling about not being hungry. He had been getting worse lately and had been hospitalized twice in the past 2 weeks.

Katy answered the phone with shaking hands, automatically putting it on speaker and setting it on his chest since he found it too taxing to hold the phone up without losing circulation in his hand.

“Brian, we have a heart for you.” Dr Gilmour announced, the excitement in her voice was almost palpable. “It’s in the air now, it's been double and triple checked so we won't have a problem like last time.”

“Ok, we’re on our way.” Katya said in a monotone before hanging up. He refused to get excited this time, the last time felt like his trashy heart was being crushed to smithereens.

Trixie squealed and hugged him gently before grabbing Katya’s portable oxygen tank and yanking the fully packed hospital bag out of the front closet and throwing their phones and laptop and their various cords in. It had been carefully packed for months in preparation for this moment. Trixie had found the list on Pinterest. It had the basics like toiletries, lip balm and lotion, magazines they hadn't read yet, ear plugs and sleep mask, slippers and loose clothing. Then it had things they would have never thought of, 2 empty refillable water bottles, snacks for Trixie to stress eat while waiting, a battery powered fan for white noise since Kat couldn't stand the beeping on his previous hospital stays and a stuffed Tenderheart Care-bear from Ginger. An adult colouring book and pencil crayons were suggested for the pre-surgery waiting jitters by a fellow heart patient whom they met on one of Kat’s hospital stays in the last 10 months.

Katya labouriously sat up in bed, switching to the shorter oxygen tubing to his portable tank, it was only 5:15pm but he was as exhausted as if it were 3am and he’d been working out for 10 days straight. He had to stop 5 times on the way to the car, breathing heavily and being supported by Trixie who had offered to carry him. He bristled and declined, it was totally emasculating to be offered to be carried like a child, even if it was by someone who loved him as much as he knew Trix loved him.

There were no jokes even though Trixie drove like a madman again. He was grinning madly, he couldn't help it. Katya felt hope ignite in his stomach, he tried to suppress it but soon there was a small grin on his pale blue lips too.

Trixie pulled up to the front door, “wait a sec.” He ran into the hospital and returned pushing a wheelchair which he almost careened in the side of his Jeep in his haste. Katya opened his mouth to protest but closed it with a warning look from Trixie. Trixie brought him into the lobby, pressing Kat’s phone into his hand, “call your Mum while I park the car.”

Trixie rushed away, practically skipping and humming to himself. Katya looked at his phone for a minute before tucking it into his pocket. He had to make sure this was real, he couldn't bear being any more of a disappointment to her. He was back to being numb, he had apparently successfully squashed that pesky flicker of hope.

“Hi Brian! You made it!” Dr Gilmour rushed over and hugged him, picking up his wrist to check his pulse as if by habit while she looked around. “Let’s get this show on the road, like I said the heart is in the air, should be here in 45 minutes. Where’s Firkus? You ready? How do you feel? When was the last time you ate and how much?” Her questions toppled out in her excitement, she had gotten attached to “the Brians" as she called them, she practically bounced in excitement. They were such a lovely couple and she had fought hard on behalf of Katya. He was a talented man that made a mistake and it shouldn't cost him his life.

“He’s parking the car, one bite of lasagne about an hour ago because Firkus was giving me his puppy dog eyes and before that a boiled egg, ½ a piece of toast and ensure this morning at around 10. Haven’t had much appetite. So there’s really a heart?”

She put a hand on her cocked hip as she rolled her eyes and quipped sarcastically, “no, there’s no heart. This is all an elaborate ruse Brian.” She then did an uncanny impression of the soup guy from Seinfeld, “no heart for you!”

Katya let out a giggle, “aha! I thought so!” Trixie rushed up to them, pulling Katya’s hand into his and swinging them slightly.

“Ok Firkus is here, let’s go get you a new heart Brian!”

“One second, I just have to call my Mum.”

Trixie let out an exasperated sigh, “you didn't believe it was really happening, did you?”

“He didn't. Sceptical, sceptical man!” She tsked with a wink and then checked her beeping cellphone and let out a very nonDoctor-like squeal, “it’ll be here early, in 30 minutes! Let’s goooooo!” She tapped her fingers on the counter until Katya hung up with his Mum and then she grabbed the wheelchair handles and they were off.

-------

“Daddy, why do we celebrate two Christmases?” A tiny girl in a scarlet velvet gown crawled into Trixie’s lap. He chuckled at her and put his guitar down as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Well, 6 years ago and 2 years ago, miracles happened on November 4th.”

“Oh really? What?” She bounced on his knee in her excitement, this story never got old to her.

“Well 6 years ago, a man in Florida unfortunately died, but he gave the ultimate gift by signing an organ donor card. Your Papa was really, really sick.”

“It was his heart, right?” She said seriously, her brown eyes wide. She pointed one chubby finger to the center of her chest. A wide pink scar was barely visible, peeking out of the top of her dress.

“Mmhmm, exactly right Barbara.”

“So Papa got a new heart right?”

“You know that the answer is yes.”

“What happened 2 years ago?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh it was very exciting! We got a new houseplant! That fern over there!” He laughed at her look of indignation.

“Daddyyyy!” Barbara whined and pouted, “tell the story right!”

“Oh ok! If I must,” he sighed in mock exasperation and then continued, “your Papa was feeling sick, his new heart was being grumpy so doctor Gilmour,”

“God-mommy Olive?”

He nodded into her hair and kissed the top of her head, “Yes God-mommy Olive, do you want to tell the story?”

“Noooo! I’ll be good, I promise!” She said seriously then squealed when Katya picked her up and tossed her in the air once before putting her down between them, she climbed up and he cradled her on his lap, Trixie scooched closer and put an arm around him.

“The Christmas-ish story? Again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“So I was sick,” Katya continued, “anddoctor Olive decided I should be in the hospital for a few days for some medicine. We were at the heart institute and when I was feeling a bit better, we went for a walk around the hall and noticed a teeny little 4 year old girl.”

“Me right?”

“Yes you! You were so small.”

“You were pretty sick,” Trixie took over the story like he did every night, “we found out later that you had been in and out of the hospital a lot and we felt sad that you were all alone. We didn't know where your Mommy and Dad were so we’d sneak in and sit with you and talk to you, sometimes I would sing to you. Then we found out that your Mommy and Dad were very young when they had you and too afraid to hurt you because they loved you so much so we snuck in in the night and stole you and ran fast!”

“Silly Daddy!! Then doctor Mark fixed up my heart and you adopted me, right?” She let out a huge yawn and snuggled in deeper, blinking up at them sleepily. She didn't need them to nod, she knew the story and had asked to hear it millions of times. “I’m glad,” she muttered as her long-lashed eyes fluttered shut.

Katya leaned over to Trixie and gave him a kiss, “Merry Christmas-ish dear.”

“Merry Christmas-ish honey, oh honey.” Trixie said with a giggle.

Katya sighed happily and thought ‘we started new traditions and we’ve made our own family because of it’ his newish-to-him heart filled with gratefulness and relief as he looked down at Barbara adoringly, 'I didn't destroy anyone.’

(hope the end wasn't to floofy!)

Dear beloved reader,

Thanks for reading my story! I hope you liked it and it just broke your heart a tiny bit but the ending glued it back together. Whether you liked it or hated it and want me to die in a fiery plane crash, feel free to send me feedback! Please?

On a serious note, please consider becoming an Organ Donor, it can even be put on your licence (or health card in Canada) if you think your family would disagree. It really is the ultimate gift and you can't take it with you. I, myself, am a tissue donor recipient, I am very grateful that it was an available option for my parents. (I was like 4 when we started to age 7)

Organ donation is also close to my heart as my Godbrother and very best friend, Jeremy, died when I was 12 while waiting for a heart. He was only 8.

I know it's a hard decision and I know some religions prohibit it, I would just be glad if this makes at least one person think about it.

Love and Glitter,

Remény

[artificialqueens]

How Far I'll Go Chapter Six (Ninex) - Mia Ugly, Meggie

A/N: We’re baaaaack! Hi hello how are you? LIFE is crazy. We’re so sorry it took so long to get this chapter to you guys, but honestly, Snatch Game was probably the hardest thing we’ve written. It’s hard to be funny. I’m going to be way nicer to queens who do badly on Snatch Game from here on out because it’s not easy, mama. Anyway. We hope you enjoy this SUPER MEGA SIZED CHAPTER (10.5k!) to make up for the super long hiatus. And hopefully we’ll be back with more very soon. Come visit us on our blogs: @mia-ugly and @artificialmeggie

Previously: The runway was purple, but Blair’s Scarlett O'Hara realness wasn’t enough to save a poor performance and she was sent packing. Brooke and Vanjie are (most definitely) probably still messing around, and Nina and Monet had a moment backstage when Nina narrowly avoided elimination. Or was it a moment? Oh, and Nina’s probably losing his mind.

To come: Katya, Snatch Game, a hotel bar date, and a musical number.

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race.

He might be having some kind of a nervous breakdown (and breaking into song periodically) but that’s showbiz, kid.

And now it’s time for the fucking Snatch Game.

Shower, shave, dress.

Prepare for another sloppy Branjie moment in the elevator (and thank God, Nina gets to avoid that for a change). Nina Bo’nina is riding down alone, and the two of them chat distractedly on their way to the conference room.

A few of the mentors are there, but no Monét and no Trixie.

Nina tries not to let that bother him as he nibbles his toast and drinks his coffee. He’s focused this morning, ready for whatever happens next. He’s been thinking about Snatch Game since the moment he got the All Stars call, is determined that this is going to be his challenge (of course, he might have had that thought about the last challenge too… No, nope, move the hell on, girl.)

Nina doesn’t see Brooke until they film the Werk Room entrance. The man looks exhausted. There are circles under his eyes that the makeup guy has done his best to cover, but it’s still obvious Brooke is not at his best. It makes Nina remember that - no matter how stupid the Canadian is being about Vanjie (and no matter what sort of history he has with Nina’s equally stupid heart), Nina still loves him. Will probably always love him in some kind of way.

“No coffee this morning?” he asks quietly as they’re waiting to get mic’d.

“Not enough.” Brooke pulls down his hideous knitted beanie (where the hell does he keep getting those? A P.A. should - frankly - take them away.)

“Have a late night?” Nina doesn’t really want to know, but if Brooke needs to talk about it -

“Oh no. No. Just - thinking.” He rolls his neck. “Like - we know what’s coming up, right? And last season - it wasn’t my best look.”

Nina barks out a an embarrassingly loud laugh. “No kidding.”

“You didn’t have to find it that funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.”

“You’re a dick, you know that? No matter how sweet Monét thinks you are.”

This makes Nina stop laughing. “Sorry - what?”

“He was just going on about you when he was watching Asia film our scene last episode. Like - ‘try this, Nina does this, blah blah.’”

Nina doesn’t know what to think about that. It makes him feel a bit warm and light-headed, but absolutely incapable of responding.

“Clearly you’ve got her fooled. I know what you’re really like.”

“Haha, yeah.” Nina’s voice is weak and he hopes to God Brooke doesn’t immediately clock his blush. Luckily, Vanjie chooses that moment to start flirting with the sound guy, and Brooke’s attention is suddenly elsewhere. Yes, yes, that’s good. Nina will have to keep Vanjie close by at all times, just in case he needs to distract Brooke.

They all romp into the Werk Room together, Shea and Asia working their few seconds in the doorway for all it’s worth (“pose for me, pose for me, POSE”). They talk a bit about Blair going home, but before they can say much about it there’s the sound of a video message, and the television flickers to life.

“Ladies,” Ru’s face comes onto the screen. “I picked you queens for All Stars because you represent the best of the best. But on second thought… I think I’d like to see some other queens in your place. Sorry, not sorry.”

The video ends.

“What the hell does that mean?” Shea asks.

“Nah, nah.” Vanjie is shaking his head in denial. “We don’t need no more hos up in here. We got too many of y’all already.”

“Hello, hello, hello!” The door opens and Ru comes into the Werk Room, followed by the mentors. Nina tries to smile and look as excited to see Ru as he’s always supposed to be, but - he can’t help being worried about whatever the hell twist is coming up. (Monét winks at him as he comes in, so that’s something. Nina will keep that one brief moment like a diamond in his pocket.)

“Ladies, for this week’s maxi challenge, it’s time for another All Star Edition of Snatch Game!”

Most of the queens around Nina are delighted - except Brooke. Nina can see him smiling, but it’s fragile and fake, and his arms are folded very tightly around himself, legs crossed at the thigh even though he’s standing; a clear indication he’s stressing.

“This time, however, to celebrate my recent single ‘Queens Everywhere’— available now on iTunes—we’re going to do things a little bit differently. I know you’re all amazing queens, but for this Snatch Game, I’d like to see if you have any other queens inside you.” Ru raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Not to give Miss Vanjie an unfair advantage.”

Vanjie’s jaw drops even as he laughs, mutters “shade” through his perfect teeth.

“For this Snatch Game, I’m asking you to channel one of your sisters. We’ve had a lot of iconic queens on this series, so you’ll have plenty of personalities to choose from. And luckily you’ve got some experts here for inspiration. Hashtag Snatch Game All Stars. Gentleman, start your engines. And may the best All Star… win!”

“The fuck?” Vanjie whispers to Nina as soon as Ru leaves. “Bitch, I had a damn plan. I brought the little gold trophies and everything. Watched all the fucking movies. Now I got to be one of y’all’s tired asses? That ain’t fair.”

“Trophies, like - you mean Oscars?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Nina has to admit that he’s kinda thrilled about this twist. He’d been telling anyone who will listen who he was going to be for the Snatch Game if he ever got another chance. He’d had a couple back-ups, of course (they’d all been told to bring a former queen, so honestly, they should have seen this coming from a mile away), but this really couldn’t have gone better for him.

He feels bad for some of the other queens though, especially Vanessa (the bitch was prepped to do Meryl Streep - Brooke’s idea, and a fucking hilarious one. He’d kill to see it).

“X-Queens assemble,” Monét calls over at him, and Nina pats Vanjie on the shoulder, goes off to sit with Monét and Asia.

Monét looks good. Real good. He’s in some loud patterned sweatshirt that has tiny slices of pizza all over it, and another pair of thick-rimmed glasses (white, or maybe baby pink?), and he’s smiling at Nina like - no, nope. Move along.

“It’s actually the Avengers that assemble,” Asia tells Monét, who rolls his eyes at her.

“Girl, you can’t be a bigger nerd than me. I won’t accept it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause knowing about the Avengers is real obscure, serious fan-only shit.”

“The shade, Miss Asia! Nina West, are you going to defend your mentor?”

Nina holds his hands up. “You’re the fearless leader, you got this.”

“The pair of you.” Monét shakes his head. “All right, what you got for Snatch Game?”

“I’ma be Brown Cow Stun-ning, yes, honey.” Asia pops her tongue after a pretty admirable impression of Monique Heart.

“And Miss Nina West?” Monét is looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Nina wonders if he’s heard the interviews, if he already knows.

“Miss Vaaaanjie,” Nina says, “Bitch, you know I don’t play games. Don’t play Monopology, Uno, Twistah, Tag, Marbles -”

“Jesus Christ, stop it.” Monét is covering his face with his hands, while Asia is cackling. “Does she know?”

“Not yet.”

“She will live. Okay, okay, I ain’t worried about either of you. Take me straight to the finale, win me that serious mentor coin.”

They run through a couple ideas for jokes, focusing more on Asia (who struggled last time and still has a bit of anxiety flaring behind her contacts). There’s a break for lunch, but it’s weirdly quiet, subdued. Snatch Game is an opportunity to stand out, to prove you deserve to be there. It’s also an opportunity to crash and burn in front of Ru, the judges, and later on - the world. So there’s that.

After lunch everyone starts putting on their paint, fixing their wigs. The cameras zoom in to get some Werk Room chatter about who is playing who, and of course they’re all dying for Vanessa’s reaction (as soon as he sees Nina pull out his pink-petalled Barbie-head dress from its garment bag, the pussycat’s out of the Prada bag).

“Noooo, bitch,” Vanjie shouts across the room, but he’s smiling. “Oh, I’mma have to whup your ass if that’s what I think it is.”

“Deuces!” Nina shouts back at him, throwing up the sign as well, while Brooke covers his face.

“That ain’t right, it ain’t right. Thought we was friends, sis.” Vanjie is laughing about it, though; Nina knows they’re cool.

“Who are you playing, Miss Shea Coulée?” Asia calls over to her sister, who is fussing with a nasty looking green wig.

“Paaaarty…” Shea drags out the word, working that vocal fry for all she’s worth. “I’m going to be Adore Delano, darling.”

Nina Bo’nina Brown thinks this is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, can’t speak for laughing so hard. Shea seems entertained by it at first, but her smile starts to tighten a little after the laughter continues a bit too long.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just - good luck, girl.”

“Who are you doing then?”

“Yeah,” Cracker interjects. “You were Jasmine Masters for your season’s Snatch Game right? The judges loved it.”

“Right. So why mess with perfection? I’m going to do Miss Jasmine Masters.”

A couple of the girls stop what they’re doing when she says this.

“You’re going to play the same queen?” Cracker repeats, a bit shocked.

“Yeah. I was sickening last time, I’ll be sickening this time.”

“Aren’t you worried that they’ll read you for not showing them what else you can do?”

“Nah. They’re gonna be laughing too hard.”

“Mmmm…” Vanjie makes a low, skeptical noise.

“Trust and believe, Vanjie,” Nina B. calls over to her. “Trust and believe.”

The cameras have to reset then to film Ru’s entrance into the Werk Room, and catch all the queens’ “surprised” reactions.

“Hello hello hello, kitty girls!”

Nina beams, claps his hands, that whole production. He’s feeling pretty good though - the energy is real. He’s actually excited for this challenge, ready to show Ru what he can do. (That’s how he felt last year too, then Silky went and yanked the win right out from under him. But no time to dwell on that now.)

“How are my All Stars? I thought I’d take a little look-see at what you were planning for us. And I brought along one of our extra special guest judges to help me out.”

From behind Ru, Katya Zamolodchikova comes in waving and smiling, teeth glowing white against her red lipstick.

“Oh my god! Get your own thing!” Trixie yells from across the room, and Katya does that ridiculous/adorable silent laugh that Nina has seen on “UNHhhh” too many times to count.

“Thanks for coming, Katya!” Ru says cheerfully.

“No problem, Ru. Thanks for unlocking the attic door!”

“Well, it was a special occasion. And I was feeling generous.”

They go from station to station, cameras following them around silently, and Nina fusses a bit with his dress while eavesdropping on their conversations with the other queens. There is a bit of concern for Brooke, who’s playing Detox (no big surprise there). How is Brooke going to make Detox funny seems to be the main issue. Nina has the same question. Brooke seems more confident than last season, though, so Ru and Katya wish him luck.

There’s some controversy over Nina Bo’nina playing Jasmine again, but the girl won’t be convinced to try something else. Nina listens to some of the critiques, ignores some of the others. He’s interested, but he also knows he needs to focus on his own performance, and not get in his head. He’s not as bad as Brooke at over-thinking things, but no one goes into goddamn musical theatre who isn’t at least a little bit destroyed (psychologically speaking. Okay, maybe also a bit romantically. It’s fine).

“Nina West!” Ru says close to Nina’s ear, and he almost jumps a foot in the air. (Girl, Katya is standing four feet away from you, be cool, be cool.)

“Hello, hello, hello Christine,” he says, immediately launching into his Vanjie impression. Both Ru and Katya laugh - and Katya’s smile up close is completely unfair, like a smile cut out of paper, perfect and sharp-edged.

(“I don’t know her!” Vanjie shouts from across the room.)

“So who are you going to be?” Katya asks, completely straight-faced, as soon as she and Ru have stopped laughing.

“I don’t know, still making up my mind,” Nina says, back in his normal voice.

“And the uh -” Ru gestures to the hideous floral Barbie dress, “gown?”

“Do you like it? One of my best gowns. What’s funny?”

Katya is wheeze-laughing. Katya is wheeze-laughing because of something Nina said! He stores that one next to the Monét gem from earlier; hopes to have enough for his own tiara in the unthinkable event that he doesn’t win.

“Now on Season 11’s Snatch Game, you were hilarious, you played -”

“Harvey Fierstein and Jo Anne Worley-”

“Yes! And really, it might have been one of the strongest performances in Snatch Game herstory.”

Nina smiles gratefully (only slightly furious that Ru’s saying this despite the fact that Nina didn’t win. He deserved to win).

“So how can you possibly outdo yourself this time?”

“I’m not trying to outdo myself, I’m trying to do something different. Like Katya, when you played Björk -”

“Yes, yes, back to me,” Katya says, nodding.

“Completely different from Suze Orman, but still so funny. That’s what I’m going to do. Just - mix it up.”

“All right, Nina, good luck. Can’t wait to see it,” Ru says, moving on.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

As soon as Ru and Katya leave the Werk Room it’s a mad dash to get dressed and made up and before Nina knows it, before he can light a bunch of candles on an altar and find whatever religion will bring him the most luck, they’re all being rounded up and led into the studio for the Snatch Game.

Okay.

Okay.

Brooke’s Detox look is iconic, the yellow and black striped bandage dress from the Season 5 premiere (probably borrowed from Detox herself) hugs his perfectly padded body, but he’s absolutely trembling as he walks beside Nina. Nina has to squeeze his shoulder, tell him it’ll be fine.

“It’s fun, Brooke. Just have fun with it,” he murmurs as he hits the bright studio lights, has to blink until his vision adjusts (the first thing he sees is Monét and Nina’s blinded by him).

Okay.

The mentors are sitting along the sidelines, ready to watch the show play out. Nina wasn’t expecting that, but it’s - fine. Monét smiles at him, and Nina’s going to use that smile as a good luck charm - a rabbit’s foot, a four leaf clover, whatever. It’s impossible not to feel lucky when someone who looks like Monét goddamn X Change smiles at you like that.

“Welcome to the first All Stars ‘Queens Everywhere’ Snatch Game!” Ru says after they’re all mic’d and seated, upbeat music playing behind him. “Let’s meet our contestants.”

Katya beams from where she’s sitting behind her glittery podium and microphone.

“It’s everyone’s favorite queen that we found digging in the dumpster outside - Katya!”

“And yet I’m still hungry!”

Katya smiles at Ru and then snaps her teeth at the other queens.

“And - just when you thought we’d finally seen the last of her - halleloo! It’s Shangela!”

Shangela raises one hand in the air, nodding seriously. “That’s right, I’m back again, bitches. And I ain’t even in a box this time, baby.”

“Ladies, are you ready to meet the queens?”

“Yaaaaaaaaaas,” they answer in tandem.

They reset so that Ru can film the introductions, and Nina’s heart starts rattling like bones in a bag. He’s buzzing with adrenaline and nerves, but he’s going to channel that into a goddamn win. That’s right, he tells his inner saboteur - you can fuck off. This challenge is mine.

“The heart of Season 10 - Monique Heart is here!” Ru starts with Asia, whose Monique look is extremely correct.

“Hello world! Hello America! Are you brown cow stunning?” She tosses Ru a ridiculous cow-patterned baseball cap. Ru briefly feigns excitement before throwing it over his shoulder in distaste.

“Burn that,” he murmurs to one of the camera crew. “Next up, we have the original party-queen - Adore Delano!”

Shea Coulee stretches her arms in the air before making a peace sign, growling “Party,” in a gravelly voice.

“How are you doing Adore?”

“I mean, I’m good, you know? Like. Excited to be back. Where am I again?”

Nina has to turn his mouth into his shoulder to stifle the laugh that bubbles to his throat immediately. He wasn’t sold on it when they were discussing it in the Werk Room, but Shea is killing it as Adore. Her voice, her delivery is hilarious. The makeup is flawless. Her perpetual open mouth is complete perfection. As always, Shea Coulee is slaying the competition. Nina’s stomach gives a nervous jolt, so he sucks in a deep breath and reminds himself to pay attention.

He realizes he’s missed Ivy’s introduction, but Katya is gagged at the illusion of, well - Her - that Ivy is turning today. A mid-length honey blonde wig barely brushes Ivy’s shoulders and her red bustier is covered in rhinestones (and, of course, the scythe and hammer.) The look is great. The accent, on the other hand… Nina sighs a little, but tries not to get comfortable, regardless of how terrible Ivy’s Russian accent is.

Vanjie is seated at the end of the top row, decked out in red lace, a large pair of dark sunglasses balanced precariously on her nose. There’s no denying the air about her: Miss Vanjie is living Miss Valentina’s French vanilla fantasy, and no one could doubt it.

Ru beams at him. “Valentina! How wonderful to see you again!”

Vanjie draws in a deep breath. “That’s right, Ru, it’s me - Valentina. I’m back, and this time, I just want you to know, I fully learned all the words to ‘Greedy.’”

“Excellent! You want to sing us a verse right now?”

“No,” Vanjie answers, extremely primly, and even in his gravelly voice, the delivery is enough to make Ru laugh.

“Maybe next time.”

“Probably not.”

Then Ru’s looking at Nina and - oh, god, why did he think coming back for All Stars was a good idea again?

“Miss Vaaaaaanjie is here!” Ru trills.

Nina sucks in a deep breath and - “What’s the grease, mama?”

Down the row, Brooke buries his face in his hands, but his shoulders bounce with laughter. Ru is giggling loudly. Even Katya and Shangela are agape at the spot-on impression like it’s the first time he’s done it, the first time they’ve heard it.

He lets himself relax a little.

“Three seasons in a row.” Ru consults his cue cards. “Girl, aren’t you tired of competing yet?”

“Mmhmm.” Nina shakes his head vehemently, the wig he pilfered from Vanjie weeks ago flying around his shoulders. (He really does owe Brooke one for that.) “Nah, girl, you know I’m still trying to get my own show. Like Vanjie of Love or some shit like that. You know, something where these triflin’ hos gotta pay me some damn attention.”

In his periphery, Nina catches Brooke cut his eyes to him. He hopes this is okay. They haven’t really discussed the Branjie territory in regards to his jokes, but he kind of assumed it was fair game. Besides, he isn’t planning on directly hurting anyone’s feelings. He’ll keep it light, keep it fun. Besides, they’re the ones who marketed their portmanteau and gave the profits to charity. It’s practically public domain at this point.

“Next up we’ve got - oh my goodness, it’s Jasmine Masters!”

Nina Bo’nina gives Ru an extremely “over it” look. “Yeah, and I got something to say.”

“Now Jasmine - no tea, no shade, but haven’t you been on Snatch Game before?”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause before Nina Bo’nina waves him away.

“Bitch, I’ve got something more to say.”

Ru chuckles a bit, “I bet you do,” and moves on to Brooke.

“Another former All Star contestant, welcome Detox!”

Brooke looks sullen and concerned. He gives a little nod at Ru and the contestants.

“Detox, what’s the matter? You don’t look happy to be here.”

“Oh, am I not smiling?” Brooke asks through his extremely full, painted-on lips. “I can’t feel anything above my neck.” He shapes his mouth into a grotesque smile using his hands, and Ru almost doubles over. Okay, okay. Nina feels a little less worried about Brooke.

“And last but not least, we have - um, Aquaria! Hey girl!”

“Hi Ru!”

“Aquaria, is that the new way you’re spelling your name?” Cracker has written Acwareea on her name-card. A couple letters are backwards.

“Huh?” Cracker looks down at the name card. “Oh, I can’t spell my name. Actually, I can’t spell anything.”

“Okay then.”

“You know, some girls chose to read books, I chose to turn looks.”

“Yeah, you did! Now let’s get ready to play the Snatch Game!”

They break for a few adjustments on the cameras and microphones, and Nina tries not to hyperventilate, and then fuck - they’re rolling again.

“Here we go. The first question is for Katya. Katya, All Stars Season 1 paved the way, and brought back some of the most celebrated queens of all time to compete. This time, instead of competing in pairs, the queens are competing in BLANK.”

Be funny, be funny, be fucking funny. Nina tries to think like Vanjie and writes down an answer as soon as he’s got one, hoping it will be good enough.

“Okay, pens down. Katya?”

“I said competing in traction.”

“In - traction?”

“Yeah, you know, when all the bones in your body are broken and you’re in the hospital bed with your leg in the air.”

“That would certainly be a different kind of competition.”

“I’d watch it,” Katya says seriously, and Ru laughs.

“Let’s go to the Queens and see if we have any matches. Miss Valentina. What did you write down?”

Vanjie has put a lace mask on over the bottom of her face. She mumbles something indecipherable.

“What was that?” Ru asks. Vanjie mumbles something again.

“Valentina,” Ru says, clearly picking up on the joke. “Take that thing off your face.”

“I’d like to keep it on please.”

Ru shakes his head slowly, and at last Vanjie removes her mask.

“Now, Valentina. What did you write?”

Vanjie flips her card over, and Ru starts to wheeze with laughter. “That’s what I wrote down. I’d like to keep it on please.“

Vanjie’s Valentina voice is slipping, but she’s hella charming anyway, as always.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but that is not a match. Moving on to Aquaria - oh! You’ve got a new outfit.”

Miz Cracker was scrambling to put on a new wig and geometric headpiece made of iPhones while Ru was speaking to the contestants. She looks great, and she’s killing Aquaria’s affected head wobble.

“This season the queens are competing in BLANK.”

Cracker flips her card to reveal Aquaria’s instagram URL. “I wasn’t born when All Stars Season 1 aired, so I just wrote this.”

“Oh, okay - not a match.”

“I’m young,” Cracker insists, and Ru nods, patiently.

“We all were once. What did Miss Vaaaaanjie have to say?”

“I said we’d have to compete in swimsuits,” Nina says, flipping over his card.

“Swimsuits?”

“Yeah. Cause maybe then Michelle won’t read my ass for filth every damn week.”

Ru gapes at him, like he can’t believe he just came for Michelle in Snatch Game.

“Swimsuits be glamor when everybody else is doing them too, bitch!” Nina pops his tongue.

Ru laughs, high and clear, and then turns to the other Nina. “What about you, Jasmine? What do you have to say?”

Nina Bo’nina slaps her hands on the table and purses her lips. “We gonna be competing in making viral videos to get Justin Bieber’s attention, Ru.”

The room — pauses while Ru tries to save face with a polite chuckle. Nina West can practically hear the shade rattle sound effect that will inevitably be edited in at this exact moment.

Jasmine Masters probably wasn’t Nina Bo’nina’s best option (anyone could have told her that and, good god girl, they really tried). It’s not working. Nina doesn’t think any of it’s working.

Ru clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m certain you could teach them a thing or two about that, but unfortunately, it’s not a match.”

Nina Bo’nina shrugs.

Ru shuffles his cue cards and moves on. “This next question is for Shangela. In All Stars Season 2, we changed things up by letting the queens choose who would be eliminated. This season, as well as eliminating each other, the queens will have to BLANK each other.”

There’s the scribbling of markers from the queens around Nina (who like to think he’s got this answer down blind.)

“Okay, pens down. Shangela? This season, the queens will also have to…”

“I knew what y’all were looking for, because y’all are nasty…” Shangela turns her card around. “But I’m a lady, so I said they’d have to ‘tuck’ each other.”

“Tuck each other!”

“Sometimes a girl needs a helping hand, mama.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Let’s see if we have any matches! Katya, what did you say?”

Ivy looks a bit startled to be called on first, but she beams with her red lips, flips her card over. “I said eat each other. To consume each other’s power and fill the gaping void that lives -” She pats her chest. “Right here.”

Katya (the real Katya) shrieks, but Ru shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, that’s not a match.”

“Da,” Ivy says solemnly, in her terrible Russian accent. “Da. It never is match. Like me and Trixie. Match but… No match.”

And, okay, Nina might imagine it, but it seems like the studio goes eerily quiet as everyone waits for Trixie’s reaction. She’s smiling, but it looks forced. Katya clears her throat but laughs, which seems to dispel the weird tension that formed.

Ru, oblivious to the entire thing, moves on. “Miss Vaaaanjie, what did you say?”

Nina sighs and flips his card, feeling pretty pleased with himself. “I said date each other. You know, I still be lookin’ for that Notebook shit.”

“Oh yeah, we know. No more Post-Its, right?”

“No more Post-Its, never again. I ain’t got the time, Mary!” He glances over at Brooke, raises his eyebrows seductively. “Hey, how you doin’?” Behind him, the real Vanjie mumbles something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, my dear, that’s not a match.”

“Bitch, it might be!” Nina says, still looking at Brooke, and Ru bends over laughing, stomping his foot into the ground. It’s adrenaline, it’s power, it’s like Nina knows this challenge is his.

“You ain’t even know!” he continues, channeling angry Vanessa as much as possible. “Just ‘cause one tall blonde bitch did me wrong don’t mean they all will. Shit.” Nina crosses his arms over his chest, leans back in his chair, sees Brooke duck his head and blink rapidly a few times.

That might have been too much. He just got caught in the moment and… Fuck. Dial it back a little, but stay focused.

“Moving on to Aquaria,” Ru says. Aquaria, this season the queens will have to BLANK each other.”

“I said ‘copy each other,” Cracker says tightly, in Aquaria’s low voice. “And it’s too bad Miz Cracker isn’t here. Maybe then she would have won something.”

“Oho!” Ru laughs, a bit scandalized. “Not a match, my dear.”

Cracker shrugs and throws the card over her shoulder. “Someone save that so I can call and ask Cracker if she wants more of my sloppy seconds.”

“Adore Delanoooo!” Ru trills the last syllable as he turns to Shea, who tosses the long green waves over her shoulder.

She flashes Ru one of Adore’s signature winking, mouth-open, tongue-out smiles with a peace sign.

“What did you write down, darling?”

“I said ‘party with each other,’” Shea drawls in Adore’s affected tone, adding more fry than is entirely necessary, but it gets the point across. She’s goofy and perfect.

“Party with each other,” Ru repeats.

“Yeah! I mean, you guys all look super cool. I’d hang out with you, smoke a blunt, eat some pizza. You know, party!”

Ru tsks. “Sounds like a great Tuesday night, but unfortunately not a match.” He turns to face the contestants, where Katya is sitting with her hands folded primly on her stack of cards. “Back to Katya! In All Stars Season 3, BenDeLaCreme shocked the judges by sending herself home. This season, Michelle Visage will shock everyone by BLANKING herself.”

Katya takes a minute to ponder, pressing her index finger to her lips then writes something on her card. Nina and the other queens follow suit, and when their time is up, Katya is smiling ferociously.

“Let’s see what our contestant put down. Katya?” Ru faces her. “Michelle Visage will shock everyone by doing what?”

Katya clears her throat. “I could have gone the obvious route, you know.”

“Obviously,” Ru says.

“Instead, I said, ‘sacrificing herself.’”

“Sacrificing herself?”

“With fire. To the Gods, honey.”

“Okay… Any particular God?”

“…Satan.”

“Of course. Let’s go to our queens. Detox, this season Michelle Visage will shock everyone by…”

Brooke flips his card over. “I said motorboating herself. I mean, if anyone could do it -”

“I don’t know how shocking that would be… but either way, I’m sorry, not a match. Vanessa Vanjie Mateo! What did you say, my dear?”

Nina flips over his card. “I said cloning herself.”

“Cloning herself?”

“Mmm-hmm. Need two of her to manage your ass.”

Ru laughs, and Nina thanks every God he knows the name of. The burn landed!

“And now she got that done, she’s gonna clone me some Canadian bacon.”

“Is that right?”

“Hell yeah it is.” Nina does not look at Brooke or Vanjie. “But only the good parts, baby. Trim all the fat; I’m a growing girl, need more protein in my diet.”

“Bitch, you couldn’t handle that much protein,” Vanjie-as-Valentina cuts in, and Ru fans himself.

“A controversial question! Let’s go to Monique Heart, see what she said. Michelle Visage will shock everyone by…”

“I said believing in herself.” Asia-as-Monique-turns her face to the camera. “Like I believe in myself, America. And that’s why I’d like to take this moment to announce my run for office.”

“Which office is that?”

“Whichever.” Asia’s got Monique’s flighty passion down perfectly. “One of the big ones, you know. And thank you, America, for your trust. I won’t let you down.”

Ru reads the last question of the night. “In All Stars Season 4, history was made when we celebrated the first Drag Race double crowning. This season, we’ll be making history with a double BLANK.”

Shangela is already shaking her head knowingly. There’s a scrabble of writing from the queens.

“Ladies, pens down. Shangela?”

“I’m giving the people what they want, Ru. I ain’t proud. I had to say a double fisting.”

“Did you really have to say it though?”

“Actually, mama, I did. The PAs have my children.”

“Ha! All right ladies, let’s see if we have any matches. Adore Delano. This season we’ll be making history with the first double BLANK.”

Shea holds up her card proudly. “I said the first double… elimination.”

Ru is quiet for a moment. “That’s actually been done before.”

“It has?”

“A couple of times, actually.”

“Oh.” Shea is unfazed. “Well. I don’t watch the show.”

Ru wheeze laughs, and so does Nina.

“I mean, I don’t know who any of you people are.”

“Sorry, Adore. Not a match.”

Shea shrugs, flashes a peace sign.

“What about you Katya?” Ru moves over to Ivy.

“Well, I thought about what Trixie and I like to do behind the scenes of ‘UNHhhh’ and I just had to put - fisting!” She flips her card.

“It’s a match!” Ru exclaims.

Everyone is laughing, but Nina can’t help check out the subjects of Ivy’s joke. The real Katya Zamo is smiling but - her teeth look clenched. And over with the mentors, Trixie Mattel is not smiling at all. She’s staring at her hands in her lap, systematically picking at the baby pink polish that adorns her fingernails. Hopefully none of the cameras pick up on that.

“I’ll see you later tonight!” Ivy continues, pointing at Trixie. There’s a halfway amused smile on Trixie’s face right away, but Nina feels like he was punched in the stomach. Something’s going on between the two of them, clearly. It hurts to watch - not like watching Vanjie and Brooke hurts (that’s more like watching two attractive bricks smash together). But Trixie and Katya - there’s so much history there. So much darkness. And God knows enough people have been convinced they’re in love -

“Monique Heart, what did you put down? This season we’ll be making history with the first double BLANK.”

“I said the first double crowning, dahling.”

“I’m sorry Monique, we already did that as well.”

“I know y’all did it, but I feel like it didn’t really count because my ass wasn’t wearing one of those crowns. It should have been me, and that’s a fact, America. And facts are - what? Facts.”

Ru laughs for a moment before turning to Nina. “What about Miss Vaaaanjie?”

“I said the first double wedding. And before y’all even ask: I do.” Nina glances over at Brooke, hoping he isn’t hitting this note a bit too hard.

“You do? Who’s the other happy couple?”

Ivy interrupts before Nina can answer. “Trixie! I’ve been meaning to ask you!”

“Oh honey,” Trixie calls out, looking flushed and uncomfortable. “I know I said I’d give more to charity this year, honey, but my generosity has limits.”

Behind her podium, Katya’s face is absolutely expressionless.

“Well, queens, we’re out of time,” Ru announces. “Which means the winner is… Xanax! Talk to your pharmacist. See you next time on the Snatch Game!”

Nina throws ‘deuces’ at the cameras as they get some closing B-roll, keeping up his Vanjie-persona until the very end. As soon as the director yells “cut!” Nina lets out the breath he’s been holding for the past two hours. God, it went by fast, but now he’s feeling every second of it. His muscles ache like he ran a marathon this morning and then tried kick-boxing for the first time.

“Nice work, ladies,” P.A.’s are congratulating them as they leave the set, but Nina barely hears a word. He de-drags, does some of the talking head interviews he loves so much (has to look shady about Nina B.’s performance, and worried about Brooke. Nina doesn’t put on an act or anything - he is kinda worried about Brooke. Brooke did ‘okay’ - better than Celine for sure - but didn’t stand out the way some of the other queens did. And if Brooke goes home tomorrow night - fuck. Nina doesn’t quite know how he feels about that).

Brooke was also kind of weird as they took off their paint in the Werk Room. Nina thought at first that he was in his head about the Snatch Game, but now he’s starting to wonder if his answers as Vanjie might have fucked Brooke up a bit. He hasn’t had a chance to address it, but he’s going to have to tomorrow, just to make sure they’re cool. He thinks it will be okay. He’s pretty sure. Basically. Almost positive.

Nina might be working through some latent confidence issues as he pushes himself for four miles on the elliptical later that night in the hotel (work through the pain, he reminds himself), but it’s fine really. Nothing to see here. Move along.

His legs ache and his face drips sweat, but he feels—good, actually. Solid about his performance. (He did last year, too, but he’s trying not to think about that.)

Dolly is singing about ways to make a living in his ears. He’s not assuming - but he is preparing. Just in case. If he has to lipsync for his legacy, he wants to be ready. Wants to win this one more than any other challenge, and call him crazy, but he feels like there’s a real chance. He can’t pinpoint why exactly, but there’s some kind of feeling settling down into his bones, making him think that maybe maybe maybe—

Underneath that, something uncomfortable has wormed its way into his psyche. It has almost nothing to do with the actual competition. It’s stupid and predictable and oh-so-not what he should be concerned with while on the set of All Stars for Christ’s sake. But he is and he’s here and he’s feeling things, and Nina taught himself a long time ago that feeling things fully for a while and then letting them go is far more beneficial to his mental health than taking the Brooke route and bottling everything up and burying it under vodka cranberries and couch cushions.

So sure. Okay. He’s feeling some kind of way about this thing that he saw that he wasn’t even supposed to see and isn’t even any of his business, but that’s just Nina’s luck for you. So that’s what he focuses on (or tries not to) as he turns up the resistance and pushes through the last of his workout.

He’d risked a glance back at Monét right before the PAs had shoved them off the soundstage. He’s in the business of gem collecting now, savoring those moments, polishing them up for later use, and maybe he wanted a ruby tinted the exact shade of Monét’s lipstick as they’d smiled across the room at each other.

Instead, he’d seen Monét reaching out to Shangela, crimson lips puckered, arms outstretched, ready for the kiss Nina couldn’t make himself watch.

Maybe they had kissed, Nina didn’t know; he’d made himself turn away before he could inflict any more psychological damage on himself. (He’s choosing healthier options now, remember.)

Of course they hadn’t had a moment after the last runway. Why would he think that? When Monét could have anyone he wants, and Nina is practically an amorphous blob. Like. He knows drag queens are all touchy-cuddly most of the time, and he knows that there’s probably nothing going on between Monét and pretty, perfect, halleloo-ing Shangela. But there could be, right? And goddamn, that would actually make sense. As opposed to whatever madness was going on in Nina’s head last night.

He adds even more resistance to the elliptical - just for “fun.” Or maybe spite. And yeah, okay, one night of really solid work in the hotel gym isn’t going to turn him into Naomi Smalls with legs up to his asshole or anything, but it’s a start. And the sooner Nina can convince himself that he isn’t doing this for Monét (or anyone other than himself because he likes exercise, damn it), the better.

He’s a grown-ass adult. He recognizes delusion when he sees it in the mirror every morning. It’s time to face facts—he and Monét had one (wondrously) sensual, albeit (incredibly) drunken night months ago. Monét had left the ball in Nina’s court. Nina was too chickenshit to do anything about it. Now they’re tentative friends (Monét is his mentor after all), Nina might be going crazy (this whole bursting-into-song-but-not-really thing has gone too far), and it’s all just so messy.

Nina wipes his face, stretches, and heads out of the hotel gym. He probably looks like a sweaty disaster (okay, there’s no ‘probably’ about it) and he’s waiting for the elevator down to the floor with his room, when the doors “ding” open and he’s face to face with Monét.

Could be worse. Could be Branjie again.

“Get in loser, we’re going drinking!” Monét says, with a wide smile on his face.

He’s so fucking charming that Nina momentarily forgets that he himself is a hot damn mess. Literally, like hot. Dripping with sweat.

“Um.” He gets into the elevator anyway because - he’s gotta go somewhere. “Are we?”

“If you want.” Monét gets strangely shy as soon as the elevator doors close. Or maybe that’s just in Nina’s mind. “Was the Mean Girls reference too much? I feel like maybe it’s played out.”

Nina laughs out loud, awkwardness momentarily forgotten. Monét never seems anything but confident and composed, and that one moment of doubt is - surprisingly endearing.

Not that confident, composed Monét isn’t completely endearing as well. Like. It’s all good. It all works a little too well for Nina. Everything about Monét is working a little too well for Nina lately.

Shit, the elevator is moving, decision-making time is limited.

“I kinda look like - this?” Nina waves a hand at his damp self.

“Fine as hell, girl,” Monét says with a grin, “and no pressure, obviously. Though if I’m drinking alone at the hotel bar, it’s going to look a little sad. And, look, I can make sad work for me, that’s not a problem. But after the day I’ve had -”

“Oh, the day you’ve had. Yeah, I forgot how stressful it must have been. Competing on a reality show and all that.”

“Fuck off. Uh oh, we’re passing your floor -”

“How do you know which floor is mine?”

Monét blinks at him, briefly speechless, mouth agape. (It makes something spark like a firework in Nina’s chest, shoot colours across the night sky.) The moment passes and then Monét doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, just smiles like a gorgeous monster as he taps his temple. “That’s classified mentor information.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. You don’t want to know about my top-secret dossier.”

“No, I - don’t.”

“You sure you don’t?” Monét winks at him, and the elevator dings as it reaches the ground floor. “Ah, shit, missed your stop. Better come do shots with me.”

“I mean, I could just press the button again.” Nina doesn’t know why he’s resisting, he wants to get tipsy with Monét more than he wants to do most things (aside from win All Stars and run for office someday maybe).

“Nah, girl, this elevator only goes down. One-way elevator. Sorry, should have told you.”

“Guess I’m out of options.”

“Guess so.”

They look at each other. Nina remembers the man that asked him up to his room the night of the finale. Nina remembers the taste of his mouth, the way Monét kept kissing him, like he couldn’t get enough. Nina -

- is clearly exhausted. And still delusional. But fuck it.

They go to the hotel bar (isn’t this how all the bad stories start?) and Monét buys them both a tequila sunrise and tells Nina way more than he should about Trixie Mattel.

“So her man and her are split. She’s feeling some kind of way about it.”

“Of course she is. Haven’t they been together for, like, ever?”

“Something like that. Fuck.” Monét drains his drink, motions for another round. “We’ve been talking about it, but I’m not - you know. I love her, she’s incredible, but - I’m not - her best friend.”

“You’re not Katya,” Nina says quietly, and Monét scrubs his hands over his face.

“Yeah. That.”

“So why isn’t she talking to Katya, then? You guys have your phones; Katya’s here now, for Christ’s sake.”

Monét shrugs. “Beats me.”

“Are they -” Nina doesn’t have any right to this information, but - he figures that Monét wants to talk about it. “Potentially… do you think -”

“Who the fuck knows? Honestly, when I said I’d come back to do this show, I did not think it would be like being in high school again. Like who is crushing on who, who is hooking up, it -” He darts a look over at Nina and then snaps his mouth shut. “I mean.”

Nina looks away. Finishes his second drink a bit too quickly. “You want another?”

“Okay,” Monét answers before Nina can even finish the sentence.

The bartender is particularly attentive, gets another round in front of them right away. He’s got a lot of smiles for them both, says, “This round’s on me, I’m a huge fan,” as he walks off to help another customer, and Nina - can’t help it, he’s a masochist - raises an eyebrow at Monét.

“Think you’ve got an admirer.”

“Yeah?” Monét rolls his eyes. “More like you do.”

“Should we turn this into an awful romantic comedy where we make a bet about who he likes more?”

Monét laughs like he’s shocked at himself. “Girl! Okay, but what happens at the end? Who wins?”

“Well, if we’re following the formula, we probably both realize that real love was right in front of - you know, I don’t know. You, you win.” Fuck fuck fuck, what the hell is Nina even saying? He watched too many Hallmark movies last Christmas. “That voice, that ass, right?” He tries to make it into a joke, even with Monét’s eyes all honeyed and serious on his face.

Monét purses those perfect lips, presses them into a semi-smile. “Just… didn’t want to assume nothing.”

They talk for another couple drinks, and it’s - shit, it’s easy. It’s never this easy with someone Nina likes. He knows he can be funny, knows he can bring out the charm (with the right amount of alcohol in his system) but usually if there are feelings involved it all goes to hell. Nina gets weird and in his head and laughs too loudly and spills his drink everywhere.

But with Monét - it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be this easy, especially with all the longing covering up the background like terrible flowered wallpaper. It shouldn’t be this easy for Nina to stop over-thinking things and just exist in the presence of this gorgeous person.

But it is. It is easy. That’s the worst part of it all.

Monét is laughing and grabbing for his arm (just like finale night in the other hotel bar) and there’s heat in Nina’s cheeks that isn’t just from the alcohol, and Monét’s lips are glistening and wet as he pulls the straw between them and sips every last bit of the cocktail into his mouth.

Nina swallows thickly, leans into the sound of Monét’s deep rumbling laugh, reaches for his knee when he starts to slip off the hotel barstool.

How many drinks are they in now? Four? Five? More? The room is spinning.

Nina is laughing. Light, airy. Not giggling exactly but laughing and his cheeks are burning and Monét is looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“Be careful, Nina West,” Monét says, and his voice is low and dangerous. “Be careful lookin’ at people like that. They might get… ideas.”

Nina’s breath hitches in his throat and he swallows hard. “Ideas?”

“I might get ideas.” Monét smiles crookedly; his eyes are half-closed and sleepy as he rests his chin on his hand and leans against the bar. “You never texted me.”

Nina’s so glad he’s drunk. So glad he missed his floor, even if it has led to this. Because this conversation, this thing has hung between them for the entirety of filming and it hasn’t been uncomfortable exactly (because they’re adults, thank you very much), but it hasn’t been wonderful either. And Nina more than anything wants to rewind back to May, go to lunch, talk about anything and everything and nothing with Monét until they fall back into hotel sheets and kiss and kiss and kiss until—

“Why didn’t you ever text me?”

Nina clears his throat. “I was… I… I wanted to.”

“But?” Monét’s eyes are wide and pleading now. Still glassy with the alcohol, but inquisitive, bright, waiting to see how Nina is going to explain himself.

Nina is too, to be honest.

So he shakes his head. “I don’t know. Honestly. I don’t have a good reason. I wanted to. I should have.”

Monét ducks his head, takes the paper straw from his drink and twirls it between his middle and ring finger. It sends tiny droplets of tequila sunrise all over the wooden bartop.

“I thought about that night a lot, Nina West,” Monét says quietly, wiping at the droplets with a damp beverage napkin. “I don’t do that. That’s not like me.”

“Me either,” Nina says.

Nina knows that if they were sober this would be a very different conversation. There would definitely be more emotions, there might even be some yelling (although that doesn’t really seem like Monét’s thing and he’s never been one to raise his voice, so maybe not). Either way, they aren’t sober, and now they’re the sleepy kind of drunk and exhausted, so they just sit there at the bar staring at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Why’d you pick me?” Nina finally asks. “For the competition? Because of… that night?”

Monét shrugs and pulls his credit card out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Just wanted to win, girl. That’s it.”

“Shit, I don’t have—”

Monét waves him off. “I got it. Consider it after-hours mentoring.”

Nina thanks him repeatedly as they stand (clumsily) and make their way out of the hotel bar (stumblingly) and back to the elevator. When the doors shut behind them, Nina has a brief flash of all the things that two consenting adults can get up to in an elevator (some of which he has seen in recent days). But no. No. They had their chance, right? The ship has sailed.

Nina’s room is a few floors beneath the mentors’ (apparently), so he steps off before Monét.

“Can you find your way back to your room?” Monét asks, and Nina wishes he could says ‘no. No, I’m going to get completely lost, no, I’ll fall down every two steps if I don’t have you holding me up. No, I need you to linger in my doorway, I need to panic about whether I should try to kiss you goodnight, I need to think about inviting you in.

(I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t. So - unprofessional. But - it’d be nice to think about.)’

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I’ll manage.”

Monét grins. Nina likes to think there’s a bit of disappointment around the edges of it, but he’s also a couple drinks in, and wears the rosiest of glasses at the best of times.

“Thanks for the company and conversation, Nina West.”

Nina nods. Doesn’t touch him, doesn’t look over his shoulder at Monét as he leaves the elevator.

But he doesn’t go back to his room either.

He wanders the hotel. Presses the down button and gets on a different elevator a few minutes later.

Nina’s going to regret this tomorrow when he’s exhausted, but he just can’t imagine shutting himself in his dark little room and lying down right now. He’s vibrating, on edge. It’s a bad idea, because there’s nothing more depressing than a silent hotel after midnight - something about the lateness of the hour makes all the shine come off. Nina’s feet lead him down one hallway and down another, and he doesn’t realize he’s heading to their usual breakfast-conference room until he hears… music?

Yes, there’s definitely music coming out of there, the casual strumming of a stringed instrument that doesn’t have anywhere to go. Someone might be humming too, it’s hard to tell from a distance.

Nina follows the sound.

The door is open, just a bit, and all the lights are on. Sitting alone in the room is Trixie Mattel, bent in concentration over her autoharp.

Out of drag, she looks smaller, more vulnerable. It’s clear just how young she is. She’s picking at a tune, murmuring something under her breath. Nina suddenly feels a warm breeze against his skin, and the melody that Trixie’s playing becomes clearer, a delicate bluegrass riff that would be at home on Nina’s old Emmylou Harris or Linda Ronstadt records.

Along with the warm breeze comes a gust of dandelion seeds, floating through the hallway like tiny wisps of cotton. Nina feels like he’s alone with Trixie in the middle of a waving wheat field, sun-baked and desolate. He can smell the cracked soil beneath his feet, hear the sound of crickets chirping in time with Trixie’s brittle melody.

Oh no. That thing is happening again.

Trixie starts to sing:

“You’re the brightest star in any room.

I’m never lonelier than when I’m with you.

I miss something that’s never happened.

I miss a place I’ve never been to.”

Her voice is quiet at first, but it grows louder.

“There are some bridges that you cannot cross

Say it again ‘til I convince myself

But all this certainty it feels like loss.

I wouldn’t risk this much for no one else.”

Trixie gets to her feet, starts walking through the wheatfield as she sings the chorus.

“And there’s a wide field between us

How you traveled all those miles without me I don’t understand

I’m always on the edge of falling

And you could pull me over just by reaching out your hand

If you’d only take that chance.”

She keeps plucking at the harp, and Nina feels words welling up inside him, ready to spill from his mouth (when he starts singing, he’s thinking of Monét. Because of course he is.)

“This sort of thing, it don’t come easy

I never know just what to do or say

It feels impossible, believe me

That you would ever look at me that way.”

He thinks of Monét’s lips on Shangela’s after the Snatch Game. He thinks of Monét’s eyes on him at the bar. (“Be careful lookin’ at people like that, Nina West.”)

“There are some bridges that you cannot cross

I built up walls around this paper heart

But when I see you I forget it

All of the reasons we should be apart.”

Trixie harmonizes along with Nina as he sings the chorus.

“And there’s a wide field between us

How I traveled all these miles, baby, I don’t understand

I’m always on the edge of falling

And you could pull me over by just reaching out your hand

But could I ever take that chance?”

Nina sings the last line one more time, feeling the weight of his hopeless longing rising like a tide inside his chest. “If you’d only take that chance…”

“Nina?”

“Um.”

Trixie is sitting in the conference room, staring at him. She’s holding her autoharp but there’s no flowing wheatfields or whatever. Somehow Nina ended up in the doorway, just standing there. Fuck’s sake. Is he dissociating? Musically??? This is unbearable.

“How long have you been there?” Trixie asks, confused.

“Um, just got - here, so -” Nina’s face is probably turning bright red, and he’s hoping against that he hasn’t just been shouting song lyrics blankly at a terrified Trixie Mattel for the past few minutes. “Are you okay?”

Trixie winces. Then she nods.

“Yeah, of course. Just - yes. Couldn’t sleep. Figuring some - stuff out. You?”

“Just - you know. Having an emotional spiral.”

“Oh honey…” Trixie’s smiling but her voice is soft and sad. “My first perm was an emotional spiral, honey.”

Nina laughs in a brittle way, because 1) Trixie’s hilarious and 2) it’s obvious she’s trying to make him feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now,” Trixie sighs, shakes her head. “But thanks.”

Nina leaves her to it. After - whatever that just was - he feels ready to crash at long last. He’s still a bit buzzed from the tequila, but his nervous energy has banked, and he heads back to his room. He’s ready to sleep, ready to deal with tomorrow when it gets here.

So of course, there’s someone waiting for him outside his room.

“Nina West.” Maya the P.A. gives him a slow, broad smile the moment he comes into view. “Found your way back, hey? Great. We need to talk.”

Interlude: Trixie

Conversation with:

swamp thing

i cunt believe i agreed to this

Fuck autocorrect CANT

It knows what you REALLY MEANT

It knew i was texting you and assumed

I’ll take it

You’ll take anything

I ain’t proud mama

I’m hunnnnnngry

For serious though, things okay there?

For serious serious

4 C-ri-us

GROSS

That’s gonna be my dj name

Please welcome to the stage

Why do I talk to you

Why do i even know you

Yes things are find its just weird

Being back on set

And like also runnign a business and

planning a tour and all of it. At least

they let us keep our phones

Must be hard being successful

I’m crying for you

I didn’t know you could still produce tears

I squeeze em out

Like milking a cow

Just need the right suction

Stop talking to me

What can you say that you won’t get sued for

I want drama

Who’s fisting who

Ha monet wishes she was fisting someone

Shes like middle school crushing on a queen here

Its kinda cute and sad

If love isn’t pathetic i don’t want it

And there’s last seasons whole thing

#branjie

sell those hats

That is not about hats

I saw them at a show in LA last summer

They’re fucked up in love, mama

IN LOVE???

Who even are you

I’m a person who has eyes

that can see things

Are they not together? They’re togther right?

NOPE

Are you fucking kidding

I don’t believe it

Since when are you this romantic

I’m not romantic

I have no romance in my bones

It’s just OBVIOUS

Well not to them

SO

Ahhhh the gays

When will we figure our shit out

Realize what’s right in front of us

You gone?

Yeah sorry

Going to pass out

Don’t die or anything

Whiel i’m gone

Aren’t you sweet

Conversation with:

sure thing

Doing anything fun tonight?

Or just missing me

Babe?

Ok sorry filming again

Call you on break

Do not let me do this again

I don’t care what they offer me

(id o care what they offer me)

Breaks over talk to you after?

How was your day?

Call me if you want

I’m done for the night

Just getting white girl wasted alone

In my hotel room

At the mini bar yes i’m that famous now

I’m gonna crash call me if you get this

Love u

Conversation with:

swamp thing

I dreamt that i was in a bsatroom

At mcdonalds that one you puked in

After the show in philadelphia

Do you remember? Probably not

And you were there and fucking

Gordon ramsay was there (!!!)

And he wad hitting on you

And i wasd so pissed off

And thrn this lady came in and was like

‘You can’t be in here, this is for ronald only” And i fully shot her with a GUN

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN TRACY

I just woke up and feel like a monster

She was just doing her job

Ronald mcdonald needs his private shitter

And i just killed her

I killed a living dream person

Thank you for sharing this with me

I feel so close to you right now

Yeah i don’t confess dream murder

to just ayone

But WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

Latent Ronald mcdonald fetish

Clearly

I’m not a doctor or anythng

But i’m sorry you’re dying

Yep yep makes sense

I always knew it would end like this

fuck/marry/kill

me/gordan ramsay/ronald mcD

(you wanna know what the D stands for)

No i want to sleep

For 3 more hours

But i’m on reality tv again

You should havw stopped me

Maybe this dream was a warning!

I’m supposed to save you

From endng up on Chopped

What did you dream about?

U have to tell me even if it’s sexy

That’s the law

Another teeth falling out one

Mama you know that’s my kink

Conversation with:

sure thing

Good morning sexy thing

I’m so tiiiiiired

Don’t make me get up yet

Hey are u alive?

Yes

Yay u r alive!

I called u yesterday night

And at lunch

U ok?

Did u get my messages?

yes

Ok

Can i call you?

I miss your voice

I cant talk right now

Sorry

Ok

I’ll call you tonight

After filming?

Sure

Love u gorgeous

Hey just called left a message

Give me a shout later

I miss you

Brian

Have you seen the pics

from the MTV Movie Awards?

Ummm ok

No i’ll look them up

Ok

Fuck my lashes are so uneven

U breaking up with me over lashes

Lol

U and kat are pretty cuddly

Haha

are u being serious

Ur joking

Are u ok? Can i call u?

I’m out right now

Call you when i get home

Ok

But we’ve talked about this before right

U know we’re friends

Me and Kat

We’re just friends

U know this

Yeah i have lots of friends

And we don’t hold hands and kiss eachother

All the fucking time

So we’re fdoing this over text?

Is that what we’re doing

No i’ll call u later

Call me ok? I love u

U cannot be jealous of katya

She’s my Business Partner

And it’s DRAG

We touch each otehr all the time

We all do

Gotta go call u later

Conversation with:

swamp thing

Can we talk?

Not if ur busy

Let me just stop blowing this senator

And kick the clowns out

And get thes handcuffs off

No i’m not worth it

Keep these good things goin

It was winding down anyway

Gettin awkward

I have yoga tomorrow

Whats up pussycat

This is gonna sound really weird

Have you seen the pics of us

from the movie awwrds

Probably blocked them out

why????

am i like a troll

No more than usual

David texted me about them

And he’s all pissed off??

Because of us holding hands

Like so so stupid right

WHAT???!

Thats crazy!

Im so sorry

This isn’t the handmaids tale

He can calm his tits

(sorry, not to attack him just) Has he seen our shows??

What did you tell him

To fucking call me!!!

And he hasn’t

And i’m on this stupid set and can’t just go

See him and convince him how crazy he is

I’m so sorry

Do you want me to call him

I’ll call him

Tell me what to say

No don’t

Don’t worry

Its fine

I’ll talk to him

Conversation with:

swamp thing

Hey are you awake

If youre awake call me

david and I are done

over the phone

FUN

sorry you’re clearly asleep

I’m just a little drunk

brian

he said some things

that ive been thinking about

maybe call me tomorrow if u can

guess ill see you soon anyway

dont die while im gone

miss u

[artificialqueens]

Just like in the movies (Vatya) - nellie

A/N: I’m sorry to everyone waiting for more of Older. I swear it’s coming, but I’ve also been writing this ridiculous 8k one shot Vatya that’s basically just an excuse to put a bunch of my favourite tropes into a story together and I kind of love it so I hope you enjoy it too.

Thank you to Aliena for being the best beta ever. Also, Katya’s ex boyfriend story is not from my imagination, I shamelessly stole it from a musician I like who talked about it onstage once.

A story that is basically Sleepless in Seattle with more lesbian sex. Violet is a fashion blogger and Katya is the weird stranger who keeps emailing her for fashion advice.

Violet sighs, closing the lid of her laptop with a click. The clock on her desk shows it’s almost 11pm, which makes it an early night by her standards. She knows she should probably keep working for another hour or two, but she’s too exhausted to focus. Nobody could ever accuse Violet Chachki of shying away from hard work. She’s proud of the way she built a successful fashion blog up from nothing, and the fact that she can now call herself a full-time blogger.

 Even so, there are some nights where she thinks she’d trade it all for a hot bath and a massage.

 Not having either option available to her, she lets herself fall face down on her bed, closing her eyes. It feels blissful for about the first five minutes before she starts feeling guilty for all the work she still has to do. These days, whenever she relaxes (or at least, whenever she tries to relax) all she can think about is how many more important things she could be doing.

She reaches out with one hand for her phone, reluctantly opening her eyes once she finds it. Ten minutes, she thinks. Just ten minutes to quickly check her work emails and then she’ll have an early night. She scrolls through all the unread messages quickly, scanning for anything vital. Nothing. About to put her phone down, one particular subject line catches her eye and she opens the email curiously, if not a little disturbed. 

To: Violet Chachki From: Katya Zamo Subject: I want to wear your skin 

Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it would solve my problem. My best friend is getting married and she directed me to your blog for “fashion inspiration” because I guess “problem pattern loving bisexual Russian hooker” isn’t an appropriate look for a day wedding, or something.

Help?

K.

It isn’t the first time Violet has been emailed with a request for fashion advice, but it’s definitely the first time anyone has opened with what she can only assume is some kind of Silence of the Lambs reference. Somehow it isn’t as disconcerting as it should be, or maybe the creepiness is overshadowed by the truly alarming description of Katya’s style. Violet isn’t sure exactly what a problem pattern loving bisexual Russian hooker looks like, but she’s pretty confident the look isn’t about to take off on Paris runways any time soon.

To: Katya Zamo From: Violet Chachki Subject: You want to what? 

Hi Katya, 

Sorry, no can do. I know a lost cause when I see one. I’ve made a few posts on wedding fashion inspiration, maybe you should check them out. 

Good luck.

Violet

**

The first thing Violet does in the morning is check to see if she has a reply from Katya. 

Well. Actually, the first thing Violet does in the morning is make coffee. Then she drinks it slowly while combing through all the fashion blogs and sites she frequents daily. Then she goes back to the kitchen to get some granola, which she eats while flicking through her social media. Then she has a shower and washes off yesterday’s makeup. But then she checks her email.

To: Violet Chachki From: Katya Zamo Subject: Mother, I’m creeping out strangers again 

I went to look at your wedding inspiration. I’m sure you’d look great in it, but we’re not all 25 with a fantastic ass (although my ass is pretty fantastic). Are you sure you can’t help? Trixie’s planning some kind of Barbie fantasy wedding and if I don’t buy something soon she’ll force me into something pink and frilly. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?

What can you suggest in the way of “I’m classy, but I also live in a dumpster”? That’s really the look I want to go for. I figure it won’t be much of a stretch from my usual look, which is more “I’m sort of classy sometimes and I also live in a dumpster.”

K.

Violet laughs. Katya is weird as fuck, but at least it makes a change from the usual sycophantic fan emails she receives on a daily basis. She needs to start on the day’s content but she has time for one email. Right?

To: Katya Zamo From: Violet Chachki Subject: I have no conscience

 Katya,

 I don’t know what to tell you. Obviously you wouldn’t know fashion if it came up and slapped you in the face. Maybe you should wear a paper bag to the wedding and call it a day.

 Violet

 She gets a reply seconds later.

To: Violet Chachki From: Katya Zamo Subject:  (no subject) 

Are you always such a bitch? I like it. 

To: Katya Zamo From: Violet Chachki Subject: Re: no subject

 Yes. 

**

It doesn’t take long for Violet to notice that Katya never comments on her social media or blog posts. She’ll send Violet an email referencing something she’s done or said, but never acknowledges them directly. To someone like Violet whose entire life is more or less lived out online, it’s weird. What’s the point of making connections with people if you’re not going to do it in public?

To: Katya Zamo From: Violet Chachki Subject: Do you have Instagram? 

I’ll follow you if you don’t draw attention to it. I have standards and a reputation to maintain.

Violet

To: Violet Chachki From: Katya Zamo Subject: You can follow me anywhere, baby

 No. I use Instagram to look at photos of beautiful women and you don’t need an account for that. I don’t have Twitter either. Or Snapchat. I’m like a sexy ghost, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Oooooooh.

K.

Violet googles “Katya Zamo” but the results that come back are useless and, she hopes, definitely not the Katya she’s talking to. Obviously Zamo is some kind of shortened version of Katya’s last name, but Violet has no idea what it could be. She’s about to email Katya back to ask when she has a better idea, opening up a chat window instead. Thank god for Gmail, she thinks.

Violet: hey Katya: this is a new step in our relationship. are we going steady now?

Violet can never quite tell whether or not Katya’s flirting with her. That is, she knows Katya’s flirting with her, she just assumes Katya’s the type of person who flirts with everyone and who can therefore be safely ignored. She hasn’t let herself think about the alternative. It would be fucking embarrassing to start crushing on someone after a handful of emails, after all, and Violet has too much class to do anything that might lead to embarrassment.

Violet: give me your class ring and we’ll talk Katya: i lost it in a fire. heartbreaking story, actually Violet: i tried to google you and nothing came up. is katya zamo your real name? Katya: you were googling me? Violet: … i got curious Katya: if you do it too much you go blind Violet: fuck. off. Katya: yes, katya zamo is my real name. no, i’m not sending you nudes unless you do it first Violet: bitch, you can’t afford my nudes 

**

Violet is a professional. Lately, it feels like she’s had to remind herself of that more and more. It’s Katya’s fault, really. Every time Violet has something boring to do like create content or respond to comments she somehow finds herself chatting with Katya instead. It’s a welcome distraction, but Violet is damned if she’s going to lose sight of everything she’s worked so hard for just for a few flirtatious conversations and one oddly vivid sex dream.

Violet: are you actually russian? Katya: who wants to know? Katya: yeah. i have an accent and everything, but we moved to boston when i was 15 so it’s not very strong Violet: boston? that’s not far from me. I’m in new york Katya: i know, i’ve read your blog Violet: oh. right Katya: where are you from originally? Violet: georgia. got the fuck out of dodge as soon as i could, though. you can’t really make it in fashion if you’re not in nyc. or paris but i don’t speak french. Katya: you’d look hot in a beret. cigarette in one hand, cup of black coffee in the other Violet: i always look hot Katya: nobody’s arguing Violet: saying i’m hot just means you have working vision Katya: come to boston and i’ll show you exactly how much i appreciate your beauty

Violet’s not blushing. People hit on her every fucking day. She gets propositioned so much it’s actually fucking boring by now. It shouldn’t be any different just because the person doing the propositioning is some mysterious Russian woman Violet’s never even seen a picture of.

Should it?

**

Violet posts a candid shot to Instagram, smiling for a change. She knows she looks better with her mouth closed, so vanity usually wins out over likeability but she’s in a good mood and doesn’t think too hard about it. The likes and comment flood in but there’s one in particular that catches her eye. Looking fabulous! Love the smile. New boyfriend!?

She stares at it for a little too long, biting her lip.

Well, shit.

**

It turns out that Katya is hilarious. They’ve worked out a system, because Violet still works 12 hour days and Katya starts emailing her porn gifs if she takes too long to reply. And not the good kind of porn gifs, either. Katya has obviously scoured the depths of the internet to find the most disturbing porn she can with the sole reason of freaking Violet the fuck out. So Violet leaves the chat window open while she works and occasionally she checks in to catch up on whatever ridiculous story Katya has been telling her.

Katya: so anyway, he broke up with me Katya: and that was fine and everything because i wasn’t that into him anyway Katya: but i ended up in his city and i was bored and i figured why not text him Katya: so he asks what i’m doing and i say “i really need a nap” Katya: but i don’t notice my phone has corrected it to “i really need anal” Katya: and he just doesn’t reply Katya: BUT THEN like a year later he texts me out of the blue to go “sorry, i just got this, but i’m in boston if you wanna hang out” Katya: WHAT. THE. FUCK. Violet: i just got some new lingerie. maybe i should make “i really need anal” the theme of my next shoot instead of summer trends Katya: you are actually trying to kill me and i do not appreciate it 

**

Violet has started mentally cataloguing all the things she knows about Katya. It isn’t exactly helping her get over her (very slight, thankyouverymuch) crush, but she can’t help herself. Katya used to do gymnastics as a kid, but quit once it was clear she wasn’t going to be the next Russian superstar. She teaches yoga and is, apparently, very flexible. She’s ten years older than Violet and her longest relationship lasted five months and twelve days. She has absolutely no idea about fashion. She doesn’t like being serious, but if Violet’s still awake at 2am she suddenly starts talking about all her hopes and dreams. If Violet’s been making more of an effort to stay up late since she realized that, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

**

Katya: do you smoke? i smoke a lot. i had to quit drinking after an unfortunate bout of alcoholism so cigarettes are my substitution Violet: smoking is disgusting but i guess it’s better than drinking yourself to death Katya: i have an addictive personality Katya: it’s kind of a problem Katya: but i’m terrified of pretty much everything and addictions help me feel like i’m in control, you know? it gives me something to focus on Violet: i missed my best friend’s birthday party because i said i was too busy, but i really just didn’t want to be in a crowd. i’ve only been on seven actual dates in my life, because dates lead to relationships and relationships lead to feelings and i don’t do feelings. but i work constantly, so i don’t really have to think about any of that. i know exactly what you mean.

**

Violet’s having lunch with Pearl for the first time in months. She’s a pretty shitty friend, but for some reason Pearl has never minded that much. Violet always figured she must just have low standards.

“Happy belated birthday,” she says, handing Pearl a wrapped gift.

Pearl takes it and sets it on the table next to her drink. “Thanks. We missed you at the party.”

“I know. Sorry.” Violet really is sorry, even though she knows Pearl doesn’t actually care. She makes a mental note to be a better friend anyway. Call it an early New Year’s resolution.

Their lunch arrives – two salads, dressing on the side. Violet has corsets to fit into, and Pearl is a model with a shoot coming up. Neither of them have calories to spare and they’d both rather drink them than eat them.

“So, what the fuck is up with you?” Pearl pokes at her salad as she speaks before stuffing a large forkful in her mouth.

“What’s… what?” Violet’s confused.

Pearl swallows and tilts her head to study Violet carefully. “I’ve seen the shit you’ve been posting on Insta. You got a secret boyfriend or something?”

“No!” Violet shoots back, far too quickly. Shit. If Pearl wasn’t suspicious before she will be now. Still, Violet tries to laugh it off as best she can. “I’ve got a few new partnerships. Work’s going well, that’s all.”

“Mhm.” 

Pearl doesn’t look at all convinced and Violet inwardly curses how long they’ve known each other. Pearl has been her best friend since grade school and there’s nobody in the world who knows her better. Unfortunately, that can be both a good and bad thing and Violet is definitely leaning towards bad at this particular moment.

“It’s nothing, okay?” she says reluctantly, knowing Pearl will just keep on her case about it until she gives in. “I’ve been talking to someone, that’s all.”

 “Talking? Or talking?” Pearl says, making an obscene gesture with her hands.

Violet rolls her eyes. “I don’t even know what she looks like. We’re just emailing. Sometimes she hits on me and sometimes she tells me she’s afraid of dying. I guess we’re friends, I don’t know.”

Violet isn’t really sure how to define her relationship with Katya. It’s only been a few weeks and she doesn’t make friends too easily – although she suspects Katya is the opposite. Half their conversations are just Katya talking about what she’s been doing and who she’s been hanging out with and there are too many different names for Violet to keep them straight. There’s something inherently likeable about Katya and of course Violet isn’t the only person drawn to her.

“You don’t know,” Pearl repeats, her tone mocking. She reaches out to steal some salad from Violet’s mostly untouched plate. “You should go to Boston. It’s about time you got laid.”

Violet rolls her eyes. She can get laid any time she wants, and Pearl knows it. “You’re just jealous I won’t put out for you.”

Pearl laughs and the conversation moves on, but Violet is still thinking about Katya.

**

Violet: i have something to ask you Katya: i don’t think we should get married, but i’ll agree to a permanent engagement Violet: bitch, why wouldn’t you marry me? Katya: is that really your question Violet: no, i was going to ask if you wanted to voice chat or skype or something, but now i’m too offended Katya: sure Violet: what? Katya: sure, let’s talk 

**

Violet doesn’t know why she’s nervous.

She has no reason to be nervous. Less than no reason, really. It’s just Katya, someone she barely fucking knows at all, and sure she likes her but so what? She’s acting like a teenager with a crush and Violet outgrew that phase years ago.

Still, she can feel her heart beating a little too fast as she waits for Katya to answer.

“Hey, Violet.”

Katya’s voice isn’t what Violet was expecting. Her accent is subtle but really kind of hot and she sounds like she’s permanently smiling and about to break out into laughter at any second. Maybe she is.

“Hi.” Violet pauses for a second, biting her lip. “So, this is awkward.”

She hears Katya chuckle down the line. “Wanna have phone sex? Or, I guess, cyber phone sex.”

Violet snorts with laughter, the tension dissipating. “Maybe later.”

“I’ll wear you down one day.”

Violet swallows hard, glad Katya can’t see her face. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“It’s true, I do,” Katya says agreeably. “Some of the boys too, but they’re less fun. I saw your photos today, with the sunflowers. What the fuck was that?“

“I’m not going to defend my art to you,” Violet shoots back, her tone a mixture between offended and arrogant. She can’t tell whether she’s relieved or disappointed that Katya has changed the subject.

“I’ll have you know I’m a trained artist. I would have told you sooner, but you were too busy feeling superior.”

“You are?”

Katya never talks much about her life. She gives Violet broad strokes, but always stops short of filling in the details. Her conversations are full of funny stories and hilarious anecdotes, but never anything too personal. Violet knows about the time Katya got drunk and vomited on her ex boyfriend’s dick, but she doesn’t know if Katya went to college or whether or not she has siblings.

“Yeah. I studied performance art mostly, but I did some visual stuff too. I was in this program that was all about mixed media and creative storytelling.” Katya’s voice is animated and Violet wishes she could see her face. “It was a lot of fun, but it’s hard to make it as an artist. Yoga was meant to be a part-time gig, but I’m still here. It’s not a career, but it pays the bills. Some of them, anyway.”

“Tell me about it. Blogging isn’t exactly a stable career choice.”

“But you’re doing what you love, right? And you know exactly what you want. I don’t think you realize how rare that is.” Katya sounds almost wistful now. “You’re so young and driven and you’re fucking doing it. I know sometimes you hate it, but look at what you’re achieving. I’d kill to have half the passion you do about anything.”

Violet doesn’t know how to respond. Sometimes she forgets that not everyone can do what she does, mostly because she knows she isn’t doing anything special. Sure, she’s worked hard to get where she is but the truth is that luck has probably had more to do with it than anything else, even if that’s not something she likes to acknowledge. Luck makes it sound like she doesn’t deserve it and she knows she does. But so do all the other people who can’t make a living from what they love. People like Katya.

“Violet? You still there?”

Violet clears her throat. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Did I freak you out? I promised myself I’d stop doing that.”

“No. I’m just thinking.” She draws a deep breath, letting it out slowly, centering herself.

“Are you thinking about me naked? Cause I think about you naked all the time.”

Violet laughs, shaking her head. “How can I think about you naked? I don’t know what you look like. Which is fucking weird by the way.”

“I know.” Violet can almost hear Katya nodding. “I’ve thought a lot about this, and I want our epic but ultimately ill-fated romance to be like a 90’s romcom. I’ll meet you at the top of the Empire State Building and you’ll have to pick me out from the crowd. Maybe I’ll be carrying a single red rose so you can identify me. It’ll be super romantic, until the fighting and cheating and dramatic breakup.”

“Or we could meet in Boston.” Violet hears the words coming out of her mouth before she can stop them. Why the fuck would she say that? Shit. Katya is going to think that Violet takes her flirting seriously. Her cheeks flush as she waits for Katya to laugh at her or worse, to let her down gently.

“We could.” Katya’s voice is careful, as though she’s not sure exactly how she should react. “We don’t have an Empire State Building, but I’m sure I could come up with something. Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” Violet agrees, quietly exhaling and pressing the palms of her hands against her warm cheeks.

“I mean, unless you want to meet not-hypothetically. Boston’s a great place to take photos of yourself wearing clothes and looking fashionable.”

Violet feels her heart start being faster. She’s not positive, but it sounds suspiciously like Katya is asking her out in a very roundabout way. She knows she should ignore it, but the nervous flutter in her stomach is back and she suddenly realizes that yes, she wants this. It’s spontaneous and ridiculous and not in any way Violet’s style, but she wants to meet Katya and she doesn’t care if that might be a very stupid decision.

“What about Saturday?”

Katya makes a sudden choking noise and Violet can’t hold back her grin. She’s still got it.

“Saturday’s fine. Great.” It’s the first time Katya has ever sounded off balance and Violet likes it. “I’ll show you the sights. Buy you some food. Wow you with my poor table manners.”

Violet glances down at the clock in the corner of her screen and makes a face. “Shit. I have to go. Work calls. But we’ll talk soon, okay? I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“I can’t wait.”

Violet disconnects and lets out a groan, resting her head in her hands. Fuck. She’s going on a date with some mysterious Russian stranger in a state hours away.

“There is something seriously wrong with me,” she mutters to herself as she clicks back over to her blog.

It’s going to be a long few days.

**

She ends up getting into Boston on Friday night.

It’s not that she’s impatient. It’s just that Saturday mornings are always busy for her and it doesn’t make sense to be traveling then. Even to Violet that sounds like a weak excuse, but it’s all she has so she commits to it anyway.

She knows Katya is busy teaching late-night yoga, which takes some of the pressure off. If she’s honest, Violet is a little terrified about tomorrow. She likes Katya. A lot, in fact, and she can’t see any way that won’t end in disaster.

She spends about half an hour trying to write up some content for her blog, but she can’t focus and her sentences barely make sense. She needs a distraction. Preferably one that ends in sex, but Violet isn’t too fussy.

Which is how she finds herself standing outside a strip club. It’s not the kind of place Violet would usually frequent – watching a bunch of drunk men get their rocks off isn’t exactly her idea of a good time, but half naked women dancing for her entertainment is definitely the kind of distraction she has in mind.

The club’s vibe leans towards the classier side of seedy, the kind of place where the dancers are more likely to be funding their way through college than supporting a drug problem. Violet is, of course, the only fully clothed female in the room. She can see more than a few men eyeing her curiously but she ignores them, settling herself at a table reasonably close to the stage and watching the girl dancing. She’s not too bad and she looks like she’s enjoying herself.

A few girls and more than a few drinks later, Violet’s relaxed and actually having fun. Sure, she’s not going to get laid but the girls are hot enough that she’s got a few nice visuals she can use later when she gets back to her hotel.

A new dancer appears on the stage and Violet’s heart skips a beat. She’s fucking gorgeous, all messy blonde waves and deep red lips. She sways her hips to the beat and Violet is entranced, unable to tear her eyes away. Their eyes meet suddenly and Violet registers something like shock on the other woman’s face just for a moment before it’s blinked away and replaced with a seductive smile. Of course, Violet figures, a female customer probably would be cause for surprise. The dancer keeps her eyes locked onto Violet’s as she slowly sinks into a full split and Violet’s mouth goes dry. Jesus. She’s sex on legs and fuck, Violet’s getting wet just from watching her. The blonde licks her lips and Violet presses her legs together, letting out a shaky breath.

She’s equal parts disappointed and relieved when the song ends and the woman disappears, blowing Violet a final kiss before she does.

Violet takes a slow sip of her drink, waiting to get herself under control enough to leave without drawing attention to herself. She gets to her feet and is about to head out when she feels a hand on her arm. She whirls around, expecting to see a drunk guy trying to proposition her and almost loses her footing when she looks into the eyes of the blonde dancer instead.

“I am Svetlana.” The woman – Svetlana – has a thick Russian accent. Violet instantly thinks of Katya, then regrets it.

Svetlana is looking at Violet expectantly.

“Oh, um. I’m… Pearl.”

“Pearl,” Svetlana repeats, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Would you like a private dance, Pearl? On the house. It is not often we see such a pretty face here.”

“Uh…” Violet hasn’t been to that many strip clubs, but she’s fairly sure that strippers don’t usually offer free private dances. An image of Svetlana giving her a lap dance flashes through her mind and Violet suddenly doesn’t care how weird the whole thing is. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Good.” Svetlana’s still smiling. Her teeth are almost blindingly white and just as perfect as the rest of her.

Svetlana takes Violet’s hand, leading her through the club and into a small private room. She nods towards the couch and Violet sits obediently, aware her heart is already beating a little too rapidly considering Svetlana is yet to do anything.

Violet watches as Svetlana begins to dance, moving her hips in a way that should really be fucking illegal. She swallows hard, digging her nails into the palms of her hands as the blonde sinks into another split before crawling towards her on hands and knees.

“We are not supposed to do this,” she says, voice soft. “But I think you will not mind, no?”

Violet blinks in confusion. Her mind is fuzzy and she can’t think clearly enough to understand what Svetlana means. And then suddenly there are gentle fingers trailing up her thighs and Violet groans, automatically spreading her legs. Fuck. Svetlana’s right; Violet definitely doesn’t mind. Svetlana leans forward, blowing cool air onto the already soaked fabric and Violet bites her lip hard, forcing back a moan. Svetlana licks her clit through her panties just once and Violet gives in, whimpering in a way that would be embarrassing if she wasn’t already so turned on.

“You sound so pretty.”

Violet flushes as Svetlana chuckles, hooking her fingers into the elastic of Violet’s panties and pulling them down and off. Violet closes her eyes, groaning with frustration as she feels Svetlana nip and lick her way up her inner thighs, so close to where Violet wants her, but not close enough.

“Look at me.”

Svetlana’s voice is commanding and Violet opens her eyes, biting her lip again as the Russian woman’s head disappears between her thighs. It’s fucking hot and Violet struggles to keep her hips still as Svetlana begins licking her in slow, broad strokes.

“More, fuck, please.” Violet doesn’t care how needy she sounds. Svetlana’s tongue is amazing and Violet can feel herself growing more and more desperate as Svetlana teases her. “Please.”

It feels like a lifetime before Svetlana finally gives in, her tongue working hard against Violet’s clit, making her moan. She feels Svetlana slowly work a finger inside her, curling it up suddenly and hitting just the right place. “Fuck.” Violet gasps for breath as Svetlana adds a second finger and the stimulation is too much and so fucking perfect. Svetlana sucks on Violet’s clit and she suddenly thinks of Katya, imagining her with her face buried between Violet’s thighs instead. The visual is enough to send her over the edge, her vision blurring as she comes hard with a broken moan.

Svetlana continues to work her through her orgasm before sitting back on her knees, licking her fingers in a way that seems more obscene than anything else she’s done so far. Violet’s cheeks are flushed and she knows she looks a mess as she breathes hard, heart still racing.

“This was fun.” Svetlana gets to her feet and blows Violet a kiss before exiting the room, leaving Violet shaking and exhausted.

**

When Violet gets back to her hotel room, she’s certain of two things. One, strip clubs in Boston are nothing like strip clubs in New York and two, there’s no fucking way she can meet Katya tomorrow. She’s in too deep and she’s not prepared to get her heart broken by someone who just wants a bit of fun. The flirting was one thing, but Katya is well and truly under Violet’s skin and Violet knows without a doubt she needs to shut it all down now before it goes any further.

It only takes a few minutes for Violet to block Katya’s email address. She feels a twinge of guilt, but she knows it’s for the best and anyway, Katya probably won’t even care. Violet’s sure she must have dozens of other people she flirts with on a daily basis. It’s not like Violet’s that special.

Exhausted, Violet curls up in her hotel bed. She falls asleep easily, but her sleep is restless, her dreams full of darkness.

**

Violet spends the next few days in a state of mild anxiety, waiting for Katya to find a way to contact her. She’s not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when nothing happens, but the fact that Katya doesn’t even try just affirms to Violet that she made the right decision. Obviously whatever they had meant nothing to Katya.

Violet’s life goes back to her old routine of all work and no fun. It’s reassuring and familiar, and she mentally chastises herself for ever getting distracted in the first place. Who needs mysterious flirtatious strangers when she has a successful blog that’s growing every day?

In the end, she can’t bring herself to post any of her Boston photos. She took enough on Saturday morning before she left, but looking at them makes her heart ache unpleasantly. It’s not important anyway. Better to pretend the whole thing never happened.

**

“What’s wrong, Vi?”

It’s been three weeks and four days since Boston – not that Violet’s been counting. She’s met up with Pearl for brunch (which, for them, is just a fancier way of saying “black coffee”) and Violet’s trying to pretend everything is fine. Obviously she’s not as good an actress as she thinks.

“Nothing, why?”

Pearl takes a sip of coffee, raising her eyebrows but not saying anything.

Violet sighs. If it’s a waiting game, she knows Pearl will win. Pearl always wins. “Things didn’t work out with that… friend.”

“The one in Boston?”

Violet feels her stomach clench at the mention of Boston, but she manages a smile. “Yeah. It’s no big deal. My ego’s just a little bruised. I mean, look at me. How could someone not want this perfection?”

There’s a momentary pause and then Pearl starts laughing, obviously satisfied with Violet’s explanation. “You wanna come out tonight? There’s a club I’ve been dying to check out and I guarantee there’ll be more than enough hot men and women who want you.”

Violet is about to say no, the way she always does when Pearl invites her out these days, but something stops her. Maybe a club is the perfect way to shake off the lingering feelings she has for Katya. She can find someone hot – someone emphatically not Russian – take them home, and fuck them so hard she can’t remember her own name, let alone anyone else’s.

“Sure.”

“What? Oh my god, I need to document this.”

Pearl looks genuinely delighted and Violet rolls her eyes as she’s pulled into a selfie that Pearl will no doubt upload to Instagram later.

“Calm down, bitch.” Violet laughs despite herself. “I love you, you know. Fucking cunt.”

“I know.” Pearl is still grinning as she looks at Violet before finishing the rest of her coffee. “I love you too.”

**

The club is crowded and the music is bad, but at least Violet looks fucking hot. Pearl tries to pull her onto the dancefloor, but Violet shakes her head. She’s way too sober for that. “I’m getting a drink.”

She pushes her way through the crowd and nears the bar, stopping dead when she sees a blonde woman who looks identical to the dancer she’d met weeks ago. Svetlana. It can’t be her, can it?

Svetlana – or whoever she is - meets her gaze, eyes narrowing. Violet’s standing beside her before she’s even aware of what she’s doing.

“Hello Pearl.”

Okay. Okay, it’s definitely her. The accent isn’t as strong anymore (although it’s somehow still familiar even if Violet can’t place it), but her eyes burn with the same intensity they did in Boston. Violet pushes aside the obvious questions about what the fuck she’s doing in New York and forces an awkward smile. “Um, hi.”

“Or should I call you Violet?”

Violet starts. She hadn’t ever told Svetlana her real name. And then suddenly it all clicks into place and Violet realizes exactly who the blonde dancer is and why her voice is so oddly familiar.

“Katya?”

Katya glowers at Violet. Violet figures she probably deserves it, but she’s angry too and she’s not backing down just because it turns out Katya is even more beautiful when she’s mad. She glares right back.

“What the fuck, Katya? Why didn’t you tell me who you were in Boston?”

Katya huffs a laugh, but she doesn’t sound amused. “I told you I was teaching yoga and then you suddenly showed up at the club. What the fuck was I meant to do? I was going to explain on Saturday, but then you didn’t show.”

“Oh.” Violet feels herself deflate. She knows she should be angrier about the whole kind of unethical sex situation, but she’s acutely aware she probably would have done the same thing if the situation was reversed, and it’s not as though she hadn’t enjoyed herself.

“We need to talk.”

Violet looks around. A club with almost deafening music and a crowd isn’t exactly the right place for a heart to heart, but then again she’s more than a little freaked out that Katya has somehow tracked her down and at least they’re in public.

“In private. Come on.” Katya grabs Violet’s wrist tightly as she speaks, and all thoughts about personal safety and sensible life choices fly out of Violet’s head.

She lets Katya hail a cab, meekly giving the driver her address when prompted. She’s still not sure what’s happening even when the apartment door is closing behind them and Katya is staring at her. It’s the first time Violet has really paid attention to Katya’s outfit and she’s horrified by the giant paisley monstrosity that Katya seems to think passes for a dress.

She figures now probably isn’t the time to critique Katya’s fashion choices.

“Um. Why are you here?” An obvious question, she thinks, but definitely pressing.

Katya shrugs. “You disappeared. I wanted answers.”

Violet snorts with laughter, unable to help herself. “Jesus, Katya. You didn’t think of setting up another email address or DMing me? There were literally hundreds of ways you could have contacted me and none of them would have been this creepy. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“I have my ways.” Katya pauses, then seems to realize that being mysterious only makes her look like more of a stalker. “I saw your friend’s Instagram and figured I’d try my luck. 

That… almost makes sense. Enough that Violet isn’t still wondering whether her phone is in reach and if she should be calling 911. “Okay. So you tracked me down. Now what? People ghost all the time, it’s not a big fucking deal. I changed my mind. Get over it.”

Katya smiles. It’s lazy and predatory and Violet instinctively steps backwards. “I didn’t come here for an apology.” She takes a slow step forward.

Violet backs away until she feels herself collide with the wall. Her mouth goes dry as Katya stalks towards her.

“What… what did you come here for?” She’s trying for detached and cool, but it’s obvious that Katya has thrown her off balance.

“I came here for this.”

Katya closes the distance between them, crushing her mouth against Violet’s. One thigh slips between Violet’s legs and she gasps into the kiss. She’s trapped between the wall and Katya’s body and she can’t think, can’t do anything except react. As Katya pulls back just slightly, Violet knows she must look a little dazed. She definitely feels it.

“Now, then.” The smile is back on Katya’s face and Violet swallows hard. “I can think of one way you might make it up to me.”

Katya pushes down on Violet’s shoulders and she sinks obediently to her knees. She’s used to being the one in control, but she’d be lying if she said Katya’s dominant side doesn’t turn her on.

Still. Even Violet has her limits. “Can you get naked first? I can’t eat you out when you’re wearing that.”

There’s a pause and then Katya is shrieking with laughter, flailing her hands in delight. “You are such a fucking bitch!” Her tone implies that ‘bitch’ is the greatest of compliments. She pulls the dress over her head and throws it to the side, somehow managing to compose herself, although she’s still looking at Violet with a slight grin.

“Thank you,” Violet says politely, which sets Katya off again.  

Violet is just beginning to relax when Katya suddenly stops laughing, her eyes narrowing. She moves back in front of Violet, hands in her hair and Violet swallows hard. Katya’s not wearing any panties – she’s obviously been planning this and the thought makes Violet bite back a moan.

Katya moves closer and Violet obediently opens her mouth, knowing this isn’t the time for teasing. There’s no question of her giving Katya what she wants. Katya’s hands push her head forward and Violet begins licking at Katya’s clit. She tries to move back enough to draw a breath, but Katya tugs her hair hard enough to make her gasp and Violet understands. This is not about her. She works Katya’s clit with her lips and tongue, pulling out every trick she has and savoring every sound she’s able to draw from her.

Katya’s hands twist in Violet’s hair and she knows she’s getting closer. It’s difficult to breathe and Violet starts to feel a little lightheaded, but she doesn’t stop, adding two fingers and fucking Katya slowly as she keeps going with the steady pressure on her clit. She uses the fingers of her free hand to scratch her nails along Katya’s inner thigh, and Katya cries out, her whole body tensing for a moment before she’s coming.

Violet licks her clean before finally leaning back, drawing in a deep breath as she wipes her mouth. “Well?”

Katya puts one finger under Violet’s chin, guiding her to her feet. Their kiss this time is less desperate but every bit as intense and Violet can’t help but moan into Katya’s mouth. She presses her hips forward, seeking friction, and Katya pulls back, looking at Violet with a smile.

“Bedroom?”

Violet nods, leading the way and trying to get naked at the same time, leaving a trail of clothes behind her like some kind of X-rated Hansel and Gretel.

“Fuck, look at you.” Katya’s eyes are dark with lust as she pushes Violet back onto the bed and hovers over her. “I’m gonna tie you up now.”

Violet wants to protest. Bondage really isn’t her thing, especially not with a relative stranger. But she can’t deny that Katya’s words make her wetter and she waits patiently on the bed as Katya finds a scarf without complaint.

“Hands above your head. A wrought iron bedframe, how convenient.”

Katya’s efficient and Violet finds her arms bound above her head before she can really think about what’s happening. She spreads her legs slowly, meeting Katya’s gaze, conveying exactly what she wants without words. She can’t hold back her moan as Katya’s thumb brushes over her clit with the perfect amount of pressure. She’s surprised Katya isn’t in the mood to tease, but she’s not about to question it as she rocks her hips, feeling herself get closer and closer. 

She’s squeezing her eyes shut and gasping for breath when Katya suddenly stops, pulling back entirely. Violet’s eyes fly open as she looks at Katya, shocked.

“What the fuck, Katya?” Her voice is embarrassingly high pitched, but she’s too turned on to care.

Katya merely smirks, settling herself between Violet’s thighs and licking once at her clit, too light to give Violet any satisfaction. “We still need to talk.”

“You want to talk now?” Violet looks at Katya in disbelief. She’d throw Katya out if she could, but her hands are too tightly bound and she’s helpless.

“Mmmm.” Katya traces gentle circles against Violet’s clit with the pad of her finger. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll ask you a question, you answer it. When I’m satisfied, you get to come. If I’m not…” she trails off, her finger pressing down hard against Violet’s clit for a second before withdrawing completely. “Deal?”

Katya is a fucking sadist and Violet is fuming, but it’s not like she has a choice, so she nods reluctantly. “Let’s just fucking get this over with.”

“Why did you change your mind in Boston?” Katya pushes a finger into Violet slowly, fucking her almost lazily.

Violet bites her lip, unable to stop herself from rocking her hips back to meet Katya. “I thought meeting you was a bad idea.”

Katya adds a second finger, her pace still torturously slow as she lightly brushes against the spot that makes Violet gasp sharply. “What did I do to make you change your mind?”

“You – oh fuck - you didn’t do anything.” Violet moans as Katya adds more pressure, fucking her harder now.

“If I didn’t do anything, why did you ghost?”

Katya’s thumb presses against Violet’s clit and Violet moans again, struggling to form words. “Fuck, Katya…”

“Uh uh.” Katya slows her pace again, leaning down to bite at the sensitive skin at the top of Violet’s thigh. “You don’t get to come until you answer me, remember?”

It’s torture. It’s worse than fucking torture and Violet groans, desperate. “I was scared, okay? I was fucking scared.” The words come out in a gasp as Katya resumes her earlier pace. “I want you so much it scares me.”

“Good girl,” Katya says softly before lowering her mouth to Violet’s clit, clever tongue replacing her thumb.

Violet almost cries with relief as Katya stops teasing her. She feels her orgasm building and lets go, giving into the sensation. Katya moans around her and it’s enough to take Violet over the edge, coming hard enough she sees stars.

**

When she comes back down to earth, she realizes Katya has untied her wrists and is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her. Violet feels naked in a way she doesn’t usually, regardless of how few clothes she’s wearing and she knows she’s blushing.

Katya crawls up the bed and pulls Violet close. Violet gratefully hides her face against Katya’s shoulder, closing her eyes as Katya begins to stroke her hair.

“Do you think you’re the only one who’s scared?” Katya’s voice is soft, but there’s a tinge of sadness to her words.

“What? Why would you be scared?” Violet pulls back enough to look at Katya’s face, trying to gauge the sincerity in her words.

Katya laughs, as though Violet’s said something utterly ridiculous. “Are you serious? I’m a fucking stripper and part time yoga teacher with crippling anxiety and bad fashion sense. You look like a supermodel, you’re a judgmental cunt and you’re more driven than I’ve ever been in my life. You’re completely out of my league.”

“Oh.” Violet lets Katya’s words sink in, feeling stupid. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe Katya might be as scared as she is. “You’re not… I mean. I’m sorry. I was selfish. I should have talked to you.”

“Yeah, you should have. But you’re hot, so I’ll let it slide this once.”

Katya grins, and Violet can’t help but grin back. She stretches up to capture Katya’s mouth in a soft, sweet kiss, the two of them still smiling against each other’s lips.

“I’m glad you stalked me.”

Katya laughs, pulling Violet a little closer to her. “Well. You ruined my Empire State Building idea, so I had to find some other way to romcom the shit out of you. You’re welcome.”

Violet rolls her eyes, which only makes Katya laugh harder.

“You’re the worst,” Violet grumbles, disentangling herself from Katya. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She leaves Katya in the bedroom, grabbing her phone and shooting Pearl off a quick apology text.

Had to go, sorry, I’ll explain tomorrow xxx

She turns out the lights as she heads back to the bedroom to find Katya still waiting for her. She switches off the bedroom light and crawls back into bed, easily fitting her body against Katya’s and presses a soft kiss against her shoulder.

She’s still not sure what the two of them are, but she feels confident that whatever it is, they’ll figure it out sooner or later.

“Hey,” she says suddenly, realizing there’s one thing she still desperately wants to know. “What’s your name? Your full name, I mean.”

“Really? Now, Violet?” Katya’s voice is full of disbelief. “It’s Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. I go by Katya for obvious reasons. Now shut up. I need my beauty sleep.”

Violet bites back a retort, too warm and comfortable to give in to her natural bitch tendencies.

It’s just possible that certain distractions might not be so bad, after all.

[artificialqueens]

Love Is A Losing Game - Trixya - 1/? - Kitten

Hello! Long time no post! This little thing just came to me after listening to one of my favourites; Amy Winehouse. Title and chapter titles will be named after her songs. If you don’t know her well, I suggest listening to everything now, but it won’t really matter to the fic. I said I was going to write fluff, but that’s something I can’t do so I compromised with this…

Lots more angst and smut to come!

Kitten xxx

(P.S) Sorry I know it’s another lesbian AU, but all my other fics are gay guys so you can stfu.

Four years.

Four years since Trixie had seen that face.

That face. That perfect face. The face that could light up a room with one blinding smile. The face that could make her heart swell with pride and love. The one face she wanted to see when the sun rose, again when it set, and every moment in between. The face she’d tried desperately to erase from her memory, and it was brought back into her life by one very simple noise; a door opening.

“Hey Trix.”

The sound of her voice made Trixie’s blood run cold and a sweat prickle at the base of her spine. She didn’t even need to look up from the box of vinyl records she was organising to know that it was Katya’s voice, she’d been hearing it every night, in her dreams. Trixie stayed silent as she looked up at her, allowing herself a moment to process if this was real or just another fantasy of her. She knew it was real because her hair was longer than she remembered, falling in waves just past her collar bones, not sitting cropped at her sharp jawline

“Get out.” Trixie’s voice was barely beyond a whisper, but Katya heard her, a visible wince crossing her face at the request.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come here, but I just need to tal-”

“I said get out.” She hated how tears filled her eyes, burning hot tears of rage and sadness and need. They clouded her eyes, just like how Katya would cloud her judgement if she stayed any longer.

THE LAST NIGHT

Breathless sighs filled the night air as the pair writhed between the sheets. A soft giggle came from Trixie as Katyas mouth captured her nipple.

“I thought we were going asleep, I have work in the morning baby.” Painted pink fingernails dragged through Katyas blonde hair, scratching against her scalp lovingly.

“I couldn’t sleep knowing my beautiful girlfriend was so wet next to me.”

“Yeah well, that goodnight kiss was hot, and you keep doing that.” To prove her point, Katya nibbled at her earlobe, and like magic, Trixie spread her thighs.

“Good girl.” Katya whispered into Trixie’s ear as she slipped her pink cotton panties to the side and swiped a finger along her lips. The pair lay tightly together, Katya listening intently to Trixies breath hitching as she circled her clit. She looked so beautiful as the moonlight cast over her, Katya thought. The way her thick black eyelashes rest against her high cheekbones when she shut her eyes in pleasure, and how bright her blue eyes looked when they shot open as Katya finally curled two fingers inside her.

“Oh my god, Kat, that feels so fucking…” Trixie hid her face as she moaned, hips bucking to meet Katyas hand, letting the palm of her hand rub against her clit. Katya rocked with her, their movements flowing perfectly in sync.

“Shush baby, I know. Look at me princess, let me see that beautiful face.” Katya straddles Trixies thighs, keeping her hand exactly where she needed it to be. Pressing their chests together, she captured Trixies lips once again as she continued to make love to her girlfriend. Whimpers and content sighs passed between them, the blankets enclosing them in their own little world. Trixie pulled back from the kiss, blushing at the intense gaze of Katya.

“Stop staring at me baby.” Trixie whinged as Katyas movements became more intense, her fingers hitting her g-spot harder with each roll of their hips.

“I’m sorry baby, but I can’t look away. I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now. I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. But, I am the one getting fucked.” Trixie laughed as Katyas eyebrow cocked at her tone.

“You bitch.” Katya feigned looking hurt, but smiled at Trixies moan as she added a third finger.

“Kat. Kat, I’m gonna…”

“What baby? You’re going to what?” Katya couldn’t help but grin at Trixies reply; her walls clenching around her fingers and nails digging into her back. Peppering delicate kisses along her neck and chest, she continued to fuck Trixie through her orgasm.

Blinking her way back to reality, Trixie pouted at the loss of Katyas body against hers as she climbed off her hips. Before she had the chance to complain, Katya pulled Trixies hips into the crook of her own, tucking her knees behind Trixies.

Looking over her shoulder at Katya, Trixie asked"What’re you doing? It your turn.“

"Not tonight peach, you have work.” The black eyeliner that Katya had forgotten to remove was smudged down her cheek, and she looked exhausted.

“Are you sure? I want to make you feel good.”

“This makes me feel good.” She tightened her arm around Trixies waist and kissed her shoulder blade. “Go to sleep, beautiful.”

“Goodnight baby.” Sleep already sounded heavy in Trixies voice, but Katyas eyes stayed wide open as she listened to her girlfriends breathing deepen.

Katya let her hand dance across Trixies stomach and down to her milky white thigh, tracing out delicate patterns as she went. Absentmindedly, she began to draw flowers and love hearts, little birds, song lyrics, and finally “I L O V E Y O U”

“I love you too.”

Katya jumped at Trixies voice, moving back so her girlfriend could turn in her arms. Her blonde tresses looked wild on the pillow, her cheeks pink and lower lip pulled between her teeth.

“Do you mean that?” Katyas voice was filled with worry as she searched Trixies eyes desperately.

“Of course, do you?” Trixies continued to worry her lip as she waited for an answer.

“More than anything Trix. I love you so much.” The pair lay in silence for a moment, small smiles spreading across their mouths as they met for a kiss.

“Well, tonight is full of firsts isn’t it. Us saying "I love you’s,” you not cumming, what’s next? Alien abduction?“ Trixie giggled at Katyas eyes widening at the suggestion.

"I hope so! I could be the next Ellie Arroway!”

“I swear to god. If you make one more fucking contact reference in this bed you can sleep on the couch.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Okay you really need to get to sleep.” Katya kissed Trixies forehead as she tucked her face into Katyas neck, breathing in her scent.

“I love you.”

“I love you too baby.”

_________________________

Katya groaned as Trixie prodded her awake. “Baby come on, I need to go open the shop up, give me a kiss.”

“Mmmmno. You NEED to get back into this bed at once.” Her eyes still hadn’t opened to the morning light yet, covering them with the blanket.

Placing her hands on her hips, Trixie sighed. “Do you know how unfair it is knowing that my sexy girlfriend will be lounging in my bed all day in lacy black underwear, waiting for me to get home from work. How do you expect me to get anything done?”

“Sexy you say?” Katya pulled the most hideous face she could muster as Trixie groaned. “Is this why you love me?”

“Every other reason, aside from that baby. Now, kiss, I need to leave.” Katya finally sat up and kissed Trixie for too long, and not long enough all at once.

“Okay, every other reason aside from the ugly faces AND the morning breath. I’ll see you at 6 baby!”

“See you at 6! I love you Trix!”

“I love you too doll!” Trixie shouted back as she slammed the door behind her.

But when 6 came, it wasn’t Katya she found in her apartment, but rather the absence of her. And everything she owned.

All of her clothes taken from the drawers Trixie had given her in her night stand. Her toothbrush gone from the bathroom. Her picture frames from the mantel. Her movies and music missing from the shelves in the living room. Trixie rushed around, looking for any remaining trace of her girlfriend, something left behind, a note explaining when she’d be back? But there was nothing.

Nothing apart from the deafening message of “Sorry, the number you tried to reach has been disconnected.” Calling their friends, no one had seen or heard off of Katya since at least 3 days prior. In once last attempt, Trixie called Katyas boss at the vintage clothes store where she worked.

“Trixie, I was hoping you could tell me what was going on actually. She came in today and handed in her resignation and just left. I don’t know what’s going on?” Jinx sounded as concerned as Trixie did.

“No, I just came home and she’s gone. How did she look?”

“Honestly? Not good. Like she was in a panic, she didn’t seem too with it.”

Trixies heart sunk at the possibilities of where she could be or what could’ve happened to her.

“Okay, thanks J, I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” With that Trixie let her phone fall from her hand, and she sunk to the floor not long after.

[artificialqueens]

I'll take you way back (Trixya) Chapter 2 - Bramble

A/N: I hope you enjoying this as much I’m loving writing it. Again want to get across the fact this story is fictional and I’m not saying these things happened they are merely inspired by time frames.

In this chapter Yekaterina is Katya and Patrycja is Trixie. It’s a sad chapter so count yourself as warned. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Romanov Russia

2017 “Do you think you can manage to do something with the Viking markings that were in the painting?” Kim had been on the phone to Brian for around half an hour. It had started out by her telling him her ideas about the fashion and had finally gotten to the cosmetology aspect of the call. “Yeah, so are you including the hat or not because you didn’t sound so sure.” “It’s just a bit out there but then again so were the Vikings. I’m going fabric hunting today so I’ll call you later. Bye.” Brian said a quick goodbye before the line cut off. He supposed that if Kim was starting to work out materials maybe he should work out something. He’d been staring at a blank sheet of paper all morning. It wasn’t like he couldn’t think of what to do, because he had a vision in his head, but his mind wandered elsewhere. His mind was back in the museum with the curator with the crazy fashion sense. He wondered what outfit he’d throw together and what exhibit he would radiate passion about this time. Tapping his nails against the table for a little while longer Brian decided that he would find out for himself. On the walk he didn’t complain about the hills, or the length of the journey. Instead he figured out an excuse to talk to Brian again. Interested in history? That wouldn’t work, he was silent most of the time and showed little interest until Brian spoke. Vikings was just too out there? But what about Kim, why was she not there. That’s when Brian decided she to say a small white lie and say Kim was busy with family. It wasn’t a reach, Kim was actually busy and normally spent time with her family when she could. Walking through the doors Brian paid the admission and began his search for a certain batshit crazy man. Scouring the exhibits he was near yesterday Brian found the blue-eyed man in the middle of a conversation. Brian looked at the nearest piece to busy himself until the blonde was finished talking. Occasionally he would steal glances over his pale shoulders at the man. His fashion today was even more interesting than the last day. Whilst yesterday he had opted for a brown jumper over a shirt and jeans, today he had chosen a bottom down shirt partnered with shorts. Whipping his head back around Brian chastised himself for letting his eyes linger on the man’s thighs longer than he should have. When Brian saw that he was done with the conversation, he approached the man. “Hi, Brian.” Blue eyed man turned to look at the brunette and flashed him a white smile that had Brian rooted on the spot. “Fellow Brian, why hello there, what brings you back to the establishment.” The curator did have an oddly charming way he spoke. It wasn’t quite how most people would phrase things. “Don’t tell me your friend, what was her name again?” “Kim,” Brian answered. “Kim, right yeah, don’t tell me Kim didn’t like the Vikings after all?” Brian seemed so down over the fact of Kim not liking the Vikings it made Brian feel bad for the lie he was about to tell. “It was just a bit too out there for the project, unfortunately.” Brian gave a small smile. “She asked me to come back and see what else we could work with. Do you think you could help?” “Absolutely,” the smile was back on Brian’s face and that made the brunette happy. “But first, a joke.” “A joke?” Brian was slightly confused by his suggestion. He came here to hear him speak about history not to listen to jokes. “What’s a day without any laughter?” So, Brian listened to the joke. “What do you call a ghost’s poop?” The brunette snorted slightly at the joke. Really that was what he was going with? “I don’t know.” “Boo boo,” Brian tried to keep a straight face as the curator wheezed and flailed. Although he tried he failed as he let out a small chuckle because of the other man. “Now that’s out the way, what part of history would you like to travel to today?” Brian thought long and hard as the other man patiently waited for a response. “I don’t know, what’s your personal favourite?” “Ahh, so Romanov Russia it is then. Are you familiar with the story of the Romanovs?” Brian thought for a minute but his mind came up blank apart from one thing. “Isn’t there a Disney movie about them or something?” That elicited another wheeze from the man that Brian found himself drawn to. “Funny you should say that because that’s exactly what the exhibit is about, well almost. You see it all started when…” Russia, 1918 Word around the streets was that the Bolsheviks had executed the Romanovs. Every last one of them, the Tsar, the Tsarina, and their five children. But rumours spread secretly that the youngest daughter, Anastasia had escaped. Yekaterina was sat quietly writing away at her desk whilst Patrycja hummed away to herself in the shower. It had been a peaceful night for them so far. Patrycja had come back from the market with a beaming smile on her face, carrying a loaf of bread and Yekaterina had managed to fill another two pages of her scribbled handwriting. At first it had been hard for the two women to adjust to couple life in Russia. They had to be very private all the time and anyone who asked was told they were cousins, they lived together because it was easier to afford rent. At the market whispers could be heard about searches being carried out by the Bolsheviks and that instantly had Patrycja worried. Most people would just accept that she and Yekaterina were cousins and ask no more questions, but this was the government, the police, and the people who had power to check. They had never faced anything as a couple this challenging since they first met. Lathering her blonde hair in shampoo, Patrycja let her mind roam throughout all the possible scenarios that could ensue. She only hoped that their humble home wasn’t searched. But if it they were looking for Anastasia then they would surely look everywhere, their small house included. In the living Yekaterina had lit a few candles to help warm the house and provide light for when the sun set. A loud knock of the door interrupted her from boarding up one of their windows. Yekaterina slowly began to walk over only to find the door be flown open. Three large men stood at the doorway staring back at Yekaterina’s small terrified figure. This was it, she thought. They know, the gig is up and they’re done for. “Ma'am is your husband home?” Yekaterina had to hide her disgust at the word husband and she shook her head. “I am not married, I live here with my cousin.” The men took steps inside the small room. The centre man looked at both of the men to his sides and nodded. As the started to walk back into the rest of the home Yekaterina spoke up. “Please, my cousin, she’s in the shower.” One of the men let out an evil chuckle at Yekaterina’s plea. “Please, she can’t hear in the bathroom, she’s nude. Let me tell her to put some clothes on.” Yekaterina desperately tried to bargain with the men. She couldn’t stand the thought of any of these greasy old men in suits seeing her angel without any clothes on. “We’re just looking for Anastasia Romanov, so long as you are not hiding her you and your cousin will be fine.” The centre man shoved Yekaterina into a corner in the living room as she desperately tried to look over his shoulder to see the other men. She couldn’t believe what was happening. From the shower Patrycja could hear loud bangs and her heart instantly jumped in her chest. Turning off the water of the shower, she grabbed her towel from the side and wrapped herself tightly in it. Stepping out of the shower, Patrycja walked gingerly over to the door and unhitched the lock. As she opened the door she found herself pushed against the cold wall of the bathroom. Tightly gripping the fabric of the towel to her chest, Patrycja tried to slow her breathing. The only sound from the home was the shattering of different items as the hit of various walls and the floor as they are thrown. Patrycja could hear her heartbeat and could feel it in her throat as she fought back the tears. Yekaterina was praying they wouldn’t look under the one bed and in the shoe-box. She could easily say how she slept on the measly excuse of a couch but she couldn’t deny the photos hidden in the shoe-box. “What do we have here,” Yekaterina felt a lump form in her throat. “A shoe-box?” The lump got larger as she swallowed away her fear. This really was it, she thought. They were goners. In the bathroom Patrycja knew what they had found. They were found out and soon they’d be paraded for the people to see as they were executed. To think the search had almost gone without a hitch and they would carry on as usual was naive of Patrycja to believe. “General, you are going to want to take a look at this,” the man with the shoebox said. “We found ourselves a pair of liars and criminals.” The man guarding Yekaterina in the corner walked away reluctantly and allowed her a bit of air. She couldn’t keep back the tears as she let out strangled sobs. The man who found the shoebox walked over to her and crouched down to her crumpled figure in the floor. “You better shut up, sweetheart, or the consequences won’t be too pretty.” Patrycja felt physically sick. She could hear the cries coming from her love and let the tears roll down her face. She heard a loud scream come from Yekaterina as she was kicked in the stomach to make her shut up, and her heart wrenched. It was torture to listen to her love scream in agony. 2017 “They had to hide their romance, that is awful,” Brian said on the verge of tears. “Well they lived in Russia, they would still have to hide their love now. It isn’t the most accepting country ever,” Brian said with a hand placed on one the other man’s shoulders. “What happened to them?” “They were paraded around the market before being executed. It was brutal and humiliating but they died next to the woman they loved.” Brian struggled to hold back the single tear that rolled down his face. Bringing a hand up to his face he instantly wiped the tear away. “Why is that awful story your favourite?” The blue-eyed man looked at the brunette with a sad smile on his face. “Because it reminds me that I could have it so much worse than I do. I live in a place that for some part accepts who I am.” Brian nodded as he struggled to comprehend what he was being told. Was Brian confirming that he too was gay? “Why don’t you go tell Kim about this, she what she has to say and if she doesn’t like it, I’ll be here tomorrow with a brand-new story to tell you.” The two men said their goodbyes and the curator let their hug carry on a little longer than maybe he should’ve. The brunette left the museum with an even larger burning passion to get to know the man teaching him history.

[artificialqueens]

A story about love //Chapter 1// (Vatya/Trixya) - Polly

Author’s note: I highly suggest listening to the song on repeat while reading.

Song: She’s not me, Pt. 1& Pt.2 (this is a youtube link, so that probably sucks for mobile… sorry..)

This is for Yaskara, because she kind of co-developped this whole idea and helped me with finding songs and also gives amazing pointers! <3

Summary: This is not a love story. This is a story about love.

Violet: She’s not me

Violet is concentrating really hard on painting on her eyebrows to not let Trixie see the hurt that flashes across Violet’s face when she confirms what Violet had already known was true.

Trixie and Katya are a couple. An actual real life couple. It’s been less than a year since Katya had left Violet’s New York apartment and now she is dating Trixie.

Violet glances at Trixie who is just doing last minute touch ups before her and Violet have to go on stage.

“That’s an interesting necklace,” Violet says. She doesn’t know why she had to point it out. She knows that it is Katya’s necklace. It’s not her favourite necklace, that one she would never give away, but it is her second favourite and Violet has a weird feeling in her stomach when looking at it.

“It’s Katya’s. I just like to have a part of her with me,” Trixie says while smiling at Violet.

And Violet feels a pang in her chest. She doesn’t know if it is because she feels guilty for having wished that she would be in Trixie’s place or because she wishes that she would have a piece of Katya’s to remember her by.

All Katya had left at her place last summer was a used pair of eyelashes and that had been more disgusting than comforting.

And then Trixie is on the phone with Katya and tells her that she misses her and Violet wishes that she wouldn’t be able to relate this much.

Trixie smiles into the phone and she looks so happy and Violet feels guilty when she imagines Katya and Trixie dating. Actually dating. She doesn’t know if it is the jealousy or the heartbreak or the longing but she just can’t see it.

// Does she make you feel wanted like I did

Make you feel like you’re the one thing that matters //

Violet’s hand was at the back of Katya’s neck and was digging into it until Katya hissed.

“The fuck is with those nails, Miss? That’s not what good lesbians do,” Katya said against her lips.

“Oh no! What shall we do? Seems like fisting is off limits today,” Violet giggled before pressing their lips back together.

Katya pulled back again. “That’s a shame.” She paused for a moment to look at Violet with a grin. “I’m serious.”

“Oh, I know you are,” Violet whispered before pressing a fast kiss onto Katya’s lips.

She sunk down to her knees and pulled Katya’s jeans and underwear off in one go, her dick springing out immediately. She locked eyes with Katya when she took her into her mouth and Katya took a sharp inhale of breath.

Violet slowly teased and Katya was looking down at her with dark eyes that made Violet go out of her mind.

Katya closed her eyes and Violet sucked harder. Katya’s fingers were digging into her scalp while she hissed. Violet chuckled against Katya’s dick and Katya moaned even more.

Violet sucked a few more times before slowly moving away from Katya’s dick. Violet licked over its entire length one more time before getting back up and smirking at Katya.

“Fuckig tease,” Katya murmered before grabbing onto the back of Violet’s neck roughly to catch her lips into a messy kiss while leading them towards Violet’s bed.

She pushed Violet onto it and took off her clothes before climbing on top of her.

Violet reached for her but Katya caught her hands and pinned them over Violet’s head.

“No hands.” She looked at Violet for a moment as if waiting for confirmation.

“Okay,” Violet brought out. Sex with Katya always filled her with the desire to feel possessed. She wanted Katya to take care of her, to fill her, to consume her. The aura Katya exuded while in bed was exhilarating and Violet was addicted to it.

Katya nodded at her before pressing a soft kiss onto Violet’s lips.

She grabbed onto Violet’s hips and turned her around pulling her ass towards her face and went in. Her hands are spreading Violet’s cheeks apart and her tongue teasingly licked over Violet’s hole a few times. Violet pressed her head onto her forearms and swore under her breath. But Katya had no mercy. Before Violet could form a coherent thought Katya’s tongue was inside her and fucking her. Violet dug her fingers into the pillow and pressed her face into it harder.

And then the sensation was gone. Katya quickly applied lube all around Violet’s hole and replaced her tongue with her fingers, slowly and teasingly stretching her open.

She grabbed onto Violet’s hips once more and forced her onto her back. She grabbed onto Violet’s jaw, tilting her head and kissed her roughly. Violet grabbed onto Katya’s ass and forced her body to press against her own.

Katya suddenly grabbed Violet’s wrist roughly. “No hands,” she said in a low and controlled tone against Violet’s lips and Violet needed her, needed her more than ever.

She caught Katya’s bottom lip between her teeth and lightly bit into it before leaning back into the pillow and locking eyes with Katya who was now rolling her hips against Violet’s in a beautifully torturous slow motion.

“Just fuck me, I need you, now,” Violet brought out between slow moans.

Katya moved back for a moment to put a condom on and Violet watched with arousal as Katya breathed heavily while putting lube on her own length.

She got a hold of both of Violet’s wrists and moved them to rest over Violet’s head. And then she was inside her. Pushing in and out so painfully slow.

Katya kept Violet’s hands pinned over her head and moved slowly, so slowly inside Violet. The grasp on Violet’s wrists wasn’t strong but it still was firm and controlling and might have made Violet go just a little bit insane. And Violet needed more. Needed everything. Needed her.

Katya was smirking down at her and Violet grinned back.

“You’re enjoying this power thing too much,” Violet said.

“And you aren’t?” Katya smirked while almost completely pulling out of Violet before plunging back in, making both of them moan.

“Right now, I’m not,” Violet brought out. It was a lie. She enjoyed this. She enjoyed all of it. Enjoyed Katya looking powerful, and gorgeous, confident and strong. Enjoyed how the muscles in Katya’s arm were flexing, how her hair was a mess, how her thumb was stroking over Violet’s wrist, how her eyes lit up when they connected with Violet’s.

Katya looked down at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face but when her and Violet’s eyes locked she smirked again and leaned down. “You’re sure about that?” she asked right next to Violet’s ear and her voice was low and her breath hot against Violet’s skin. Katya pushed in and out of Violet harder and she was moaning into her ear and Violet lost herself in the moment.

“More,” Violet breathed out. “I need you so much.”

Katya kissed the side of Violet’s neck and let go of her arms. And then she was fucking her.

Katya’s arms were on either side of Violet’s head and she was holding herself up on her forearms. Violet wrapped her arms around Katya and dug her fingers into her shoulder blades.

Katya was moving inside Violet so fast, so hard, so good. Her forehead was resting against Violet’s shoulder and she could feel Katya’s and her own sweat all over her body.

“Fuck Vi, so good,” Katya breathed out against Violet’s neck while her thrusts were getting slower and less forceful. She pulled back a bit and locked eyes with Violet. “You’re so fucking beautiful, fuck,” she whispered.

Violet looked at her, so strong and powerful and softly stroked over her bottom lip with her thumb before Katya leaned down to catch Violet’s lips in another messy kiss.

There were more messy kisses and more fucking that night. And soft kisses and gentle words and Katya’s arm around her while Violet fell asleep with the feeling of Katya’s heart beating under her head.

// You let her head rest on your chest

But when you close your eyes

You’ll be seeing my face again

I’ll be crossing your mind //

“You really want to watch Harry Potter?” Violet wrapped her arms around Katya from behind

“I’m feeling particularly witchy today.”

Violet chuckled lightly before placing a soft kiss into Katya’s neck. “Well, okay then. I guess we’re watching Harry Potter.”

“Good.” Katya put her hands over Violets around her waist, intertwined their fingers and dropped her head against Violets shoulder. Violet started walking without letting go off Katya, both stumbling and giggling but somehow making it onto the couch.

They made it through three movies and Violet fell asleep on Katya’s chest to the sound of her shallow breathing and her heartbeat.

// Said I wonder now

Yeah I wonder how you’ve been //

Violet can’t believe that she is going to be living in L.A. for the next six months and will have to look at them being all coupled up.

Katya doesn’t seem unhappy and she’s laughing a lot when she’s with Trixie. She is in a restaurant with them and Katya is looking at Trixie delightedly and making so many jokes and it seems as if her only goal in life is making Trixie laugh. Maybe it is.

// Are you happy?

Is she still the one?

Are you having fun?

Is it for real? //

Violet maybe could let it go if Katya would seem absolutely content. She doesn’t look uncomfortable, in fact she looks very comfortable with Trixie. The two of them always had this deeper level of connection that Violet never had fully understood. She had figured that that had been what had made them such good friends, best friends, soulmates even. Even last year she had never felt jealous, no matter how many times Katya would mention her. Because she felt as if she had understood them, had understood their soul connection kind of thing, how they would profit from each other’s humor, each other’s company. She had never wished to be in Trixie’s place because she had been sure enough of her own place in Katya’s life. Trixie was her best friend and Violet was her… whatever Violet had been.

She had never thought that Trixie would be able to fill both positions, well in fact it had never even occurred to her that either Trixie or Katya would even want her to fill both positions.

But looking at them now, their dynamics are off. It isn’t too noticeable unless you pay a lot of attention. Which Violet does. Katya’s hand would look stiff and forced intertwined with Trixie’s. Trixie would shift uncomfortably in her seat while Katya’s arm was around her. They would change the topic before they would start to disagree. There would be pauses in the conversation that neither of them could fill with a joke. There would be uncomfortable smiles that hadn’t been there before.

They were still Trixie and Katya. Always Trixie and Katya. But everything seemed to have shifted a little. All the elements were still there, the laughter, the jokes, the deep understanding of each other but Violet still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was just a little off.

// Baby…

Cause I’ll be waiting here

Another week or month or year //

And she wishes that it would be her in Trixie’s place. That Katya’s arm would be around Violet’s shoulders, that her hand would be in hers.

// God I wish I knew everything

‘Bout the two of you //

// Do you go to the movies? //

Katya was late. Violet tried to ignore her annoyance and to be more patient. She was already annoyed as it was since Katya was dragging her into some kind of documentary Violet had absolutely no interest in. But Katya wanted to see it so of course Violet had agreed to go with her, secretly excited to be spending some time with Katya outside of her apartment.

Violet aggressively fired another text to Katya when she felt arms wrapping around her waist.

“I’m sorry.” Katya’s breath hit her neck.

Violet spun around in her arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m sorry,” Katya said again with a small smile. “I’ll buy you chicken dinner.”

Violet raised her eyebrows further. “Chicken dinner?”

Katya shrugged her shoulders, arms still around Violet. “Modern day romance.”

Violet smirked at her before wrapping her arms around Katya’s shoulders. “I see how it is, trying to bribe me with food.”

“Is it working?”

Violet shrugged her shoulders. “Eh, sex would’ve worked better.”

Katya let out a laugh. “That too, the dinner is for energy,” she winked at Violet before leaving their embrace and grabbing Violet’s hand and leading them into the movie theatre.

The documentary was just as boring as Violet would have expected but Katya held her hand throughout the whole thing and didn’t even let go when they made their way to Violet’s apartment.

// Do you make out in the park? //

Violet looked at her phone and snorted.

“What’s up?” Katya asked while slightly sitting up and leaning onto her elbows.

“Fame won’t make it wednesday. Her and Patrick have their 2.500 day anniversary.”

Katya almost dropped her phone before looking at Violet with wide eyes. “Their what now?”

“2.500 day anniversary.”

Katya lightly shook her head. “That’s-”

“-intense,” Violet jumped in with a grin.

“I would’ve went with crazy but yes,” she smirked at Violet. “But I guess it works for some people.”

“Guess so.” Violet smiled at her phone while typing a quick reply to Fame. “So there go our wednesday plans. What to do?” she said while putting her phone down and looking at Katya.

Katya raised her eyebrows and looked at Violet challenging before sitting up, the grass leaving some imprints on her forearms. She moved towards where Violet was laying in the grass and leaned over her, her hand resting at the back of Violet’s neck, her thumb softly stroking over the skin there. “What to do? What to do, I wonder,” she smirked before pressing her lips onto Violet’s softly.

// Do you stay up for hours?

And just talk and talk? //

Violet felt Katya softly pinching into the skin at her waist before placing a small kiss on her shoulder.

“Vi, are you awake?” Her voice was so gentle and Violet felt herself smile at the tenderness.

She turned to her side to look at Katya. “Well, I am now. What’s up? What time is it?”

“3 a.m.”

Violet let out a small groan before smirking at at Katya. “Why?”

“You can go back to sleep?” Katya said and Violet couldn’t see her properly but wished that she could.

Violet tangled her legs with Katya’s which probably wasn’t the best idea given the August heat but she didn’t care. “It’s okay,” she said while letting her hand run through Katya’s hair once. “What’s up?”

Katya draped her arm around Violet and pulled her in. They were both sweaty and it was a bit disgusting but Violet couldn’t bring herself to move.

Katya’s voice was mixing in with the noises from the city. Violet could hear cars driving and people loudly talking and laughing from the street and Katya’s voice, so much quieter than when it was day outside.

“So, I had a weird sex dream-”

“Oh god.”

“Shut up,” Katya laughed before continuing. “So I was on a yacht and there was this guy that had only one leg. Well he had two but one was wooden. So like a pirate kinda guy. And he had a parrot sitting on his shoulder that kept on saying ‘blowjob, blowjob, give him a blowjob’. And then the pirate went ‘well you heard the man’. And then I gave him a blowjob and woke up.”

Violet let out a laugh and shook her head lightly. “I wish you never told me that.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.”

“That’s true. I’ve heard worse from you,” Violet laughed again with Katya joining in for a moment.

Katya shifted and tucked her arm under Violet’s head and Violet let her hand draw lazy patterns on Katya’s chest.

“Though I do wonder if the pirate is supposed to symbolise the neverending pull of modern day capitalism. And me listening to the parrot about giving him a blowjob is me being a marionette in this society? And the wooden leg says ‘it’s a trap’. Do you know what I mean?”

Violet laughed again. “Totally,” she paused for a moment to lean over Katya to press her lips onto hers for a moment. Violet would never tell her but while she didn’t appreciate the lack of sleep, she secretly enjoyed those 3 a.m. talks. Loved it when they’re both in the haze between asleep and awake, between night and day and didn’t know what they were saying and when it felt as if those moments could stretch on forever. When Violet wanted them to stretch on forever.

Violet pulled back again and settled against Katya’s chest. “So if a pirate is the capitalistic economy, what would the personification of a socialist economy look like?”

Katya let out a quiet laugh before tangling her hand in Violet’s hair. “Well I’m glad you asked.”

When Violet was at the photoshoot a few hours later she wished that she could regret the lack of sleep. But she couldn’t. She enjoyed 3 a.m. conspiracy theorist Katya too much. Enjoyed 4 a.m. movie critique Katya too much. Enjoyed 5 a.m. food snob Katya too much. Loved 6 a.m. open book Katya. Loved 7 a.m. Katya kissing her and looking at her as if Violet was her entire world.

// Or is it none of my business? //

It doesn’t matter, Violet tells herself. It’s none of her business what Trixie and Katya do in their relationship. None of her business at all. They were just her friends. Katya was just her friend and Violet was in no position to judge their relationship when she probably only knew half of it.

// Does she know about the bracelets?

There were two of a kind

Did you save did you save it?

Like I did mine //

Katya said that normally she would refuse to participate in capturing the essence of such a capitalistic materialised thing as relationships and dating and that she had no intention in living through the millenial hipster revival of Polaroid cameras and photo booths.

“I will do it if you really want to. But you have to know, Violet, that I will do it in irony,” she said before winking at Violet and pulling her into the photo booth.

But Katya took the second print of the photos when Violet offered it.

That summer Katya had a dumb phone case that required to be taken off for charging her phone. And when Katya asked Violet to plug her phone in for her, the photos were right there; squeezed between that damn phone case and the phone, hidden from the world but always with Katya.

Violet had hers safely put away in an envelope that she had stored between some fashion magazines.

Violet wondered where Katya’s were now.

// Would it make any difference

If I got you alone? //

They had done it all. Staying up until the sun rises just to talk. Learning how much milk belonged into the other ones perfect coffee. Wearing each other’s clothes. Even kissing in the fucking summer rain.

And Violet had known every time. Violet had thought about saying it every time. But Violet had never told Katya that she loved her.

She looks at Trixie smiling at Katya while Katya’s arm is around her waist and wonders if things would be different if she would have.

But that’s not what happened and now she has to live with the consequences.

But when she locks eyes with Katya while Trixie is talking about celebrating her and Katya’s three month anniversary with a fucking candle light dinner and a fucking romantic spa weekend she still feels a pang in her chest.

// She’s not me and she’ll never be,

never be,

never be. //

[artificialqueens]

To the spoiled brat, with love. [the sequel] (katlaska) - Spoky

A/N: Yesterday Primary Care was voted as ‘Best Fluff’ in the AQficAwards and I wanted to thank everyone who voted with more katlaska fluff. Thank you for supporting PC and I hope this fic makes you smile as much as you guys made me smile (dunno if that’s possible). xx Beta credits to the amazing marble, thanks bae.

This one is a sequel, so please read the first part if you haven’t. And also read Exes For Cash by Mac, which inspired this entire thing.

Also! Words sent in by PC voters that I promised to use in this fic are: fire alarm, rushing, gila-monster, first kiss, sea-shore

To the spoiled brat, with love [the sequel] “That was alright,” Roxxxy said as the ending credits of Stonewall started to roll on the screen. Her comment was met with silence. “Little whitewashed, don’t you think?” Katya asked carefully.

“Look, I know. I’m just happy the story was even told,” Roxxxy sighed and refused to meet Katya’s eyes. “But,” Katya started, just to be immediately interrupted by Trixie. “Not today, Barbara, not today,” Trixie said, pulling of a half-decent Bianca impersonation.

Roxxxy laughed and gave the barbie a grateful smile. “I’m just saying that-” Katya tried again and this time around was shut up by force as Trixie grabbed her head and managed to stuff a handful of popcorn into Katya’s mouth despite her resistance. “That’s it, bitch, swallow,” Trixie smirked and held her hand over Katya’s mouth, pieces of popcorn spilling between her fingers. She quickly realised the mistake in her phrasing as Katya’s eyes lit with mischief.

Katya grabbed Trixie’s wrist and pressed it firmer against her mouth as she continued to chew on the popcorn, managing to lick Trixie’s palm in the process. She then proceeded to grind her hips into the sofa and groaned loudly.

Trixie pulled her hand free and rolled her eyes. “For fucks sake, woman, control yourself.”

“But I chanth!” Katya said, spitting the words out with half chewed popcorn. She threw her leg and arm over Trixie, and dry-humped the barbie a couple of times sideways.

“Get off you disgusting gila-monster,” Trixie laughed and pushed Katya off with force.

Katya fell on her back on the sofa and her head landed on Alaska’s lap. The 49th state had not been prepared for it and jerked her hands back in surprise. Katya just smirked up to her. What Alaska wanted to do was to lean down and kiss her, but instead she helped Katya to sit back up.

“Anyone else want another drink?” Detox asked, interrupting the show as she stood up from the armchair she’d been sharing with Roxxxy.

They’d been snuggled together since the beginning of the movie and Alaska was slightly jealous of the contact. Given that also Katya and Trixie had sat so close together that they’d left almost the entire other half of the sofa for Alaska, she’d been very conscious of her new appointed role as the fifth wheel. “Just bring the beers here,” Roxxxy said. “Yeah and a vodka coke, please,” Katya ordered, making Detox halt. She couldn’t keep a straight face long enough, though, and bursted into a wheezing laughter. “For fucks sake,” Detox said and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with you,” she continued as she walked into the kitchen. “I know! Thank you!” Trixie addressed the half question, raising her voice to reach Detox. “I’ve signed up for the National Family Caregiver Support Programme but apparently you have to actually be related to the individual you’re taking care of! How fucked up, right?!”

“But isn’t that for when you’re taking care of the elderly?” Roxxxy asked, baffled. The question sent Katya into another loud cackle, which was accompanied by Alaska’s laughter.

Trixie cocked an unamused eyebrow to Roxxxy. “Girl,” she said and then gestured towards Katya. “Oh!” Roxxxy realised and chuckled. Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You could get married and then apply for the programme under the category of ‘senior citizens who take care of children’,” Alaska suggested, grinning. Katya’s mouth dropped open and she pointed to Alaska in silent scream. “OH HONEY! Hooneey! I’m happy, healthy, gorgeous and young. You just wish you could say the same,” Trixie said and sneered at Alaska. “The saddest part is that out of those, young was the only category Alaska ever had chances to compete in,” Detox said, returning from the kitchen and placed a collection of beer bottles onto the coffee table.

“Buuuuurn,” Roxxxy howled and clapped. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the stage, the dismal and STD-ridden pile of trash, Miss. Alaska Thunderfuck!” Detox announced and threw a plastic bag to Alaska. “Here’s a bag, honey, you don’t want to start paying for people’s therapy sessions in your financial situation.”

Alaska took the bag and pulled it over her head before striking the most fabulous pose she could without standing up from the sofa.

“Getting back to the original topic,” Detox said after the laughter calmed down. “Why aren’t you two married? Or dating. Or fucking. Or something.” Katya glanced to Trixie, while Alaska slowly pulled the bag off of her face. The atmosphere in the room shifted to more serious.

“Because we’re not sexually attracted to each other,” Trixie said simply and shrugged as she reached for more popcorn. “Bullshit,” Detox scoffed. “Well I’m attracted to her, but she’s not attracted to me,” Katya said and smirked. “Which is not saying much. You’ll fuck anything that doesn’t run away fast enough.” “That’s not true!” Katya protested. “Two words Katya, two words,” Trixie said and lifted a peace sign up to demonstrate her point. “Violet. Chachki.” “Yeah, ok,” Katya nodded seriously. ���She’s right. It’s true.”

“So you don’t have a type?” Detox asked for clarification. “Girl, everyone has a type!” Roxxxy announced and Trixie agreed with a loud “Amen!”

“Lasky doesn’t,” Detox challenged Roxxxy’s statement, making Alaska raise her eyebrows in surprise. “Of course she does,” Roxxxy laughed. “Maybe not physically, but every single guy she’s actually fallen for is an absolute weirdo, a high functioning addict with self-esteem problems. Not to mention they are consistently either too self-absorbed or oblivious to realise Lasky even exists.”

There was a heavy silence.

Alaska glanced briefly at Katya, who was staring at her openly. She swallowed and forced her eyes back to Roxxxy. Fuck. She felt all of her insecurities rushing to the surface in one huge wave. “Wow, that was like, not subtle. Like, at all,” Trixie broke the ice and chuckled. “I did wonder why we were invited to a movie night, not that I mind, but it was a little surprising. But this, this explai-” “Tracy, shut up,” Katya said quietly. “-ns a lot. Why? I think it’s hilarious!” Trixie laughed and turned to address Alaska, but she was quick on her feet. “I need to smoke.” Alaska was extremely conscious of the stares directed at her as she walked to the balcony in the flat Detox and Roxxxy shared. She loved Roxxxy, and knew that she meant no harm, but that slip of the tongue had been detrimental. She would never be able to look at Katya the same way again. “You’re an absolute moron,” Detox sighed and kissed Roxxxy on the top of her head. “What?” Roxxxy asked and the others just stared at her in amusement as she slowly came to the realisation over what she had said. “Fuck.” “Indeed,” Detox agreed. “Do you think she’s upset?” Roxxxy asked and turned to look at Alaska in the balcony. “You’re a little oblivious yourself, aren’t you?” Trixie asked. “She is,” Detox agreed and squeezed her lover. “Which is why Lasky always liked her better.”

Detox’s comment made Katya and Trixie share a look.

“So, she has a thing for Katya then?” Trixie asked carefully and reached for more popcorn. Katya threw her a look that spoke in volumes. “What?! It’s minus 50% of fat, stop being a judgmental prick!” Trixie defended her snack choices.

“Munch to euphoria, mama,” Katya sneered. “I meant that Alaska’s crushes are none of your business.” “Oh.” “Yeah. Oh.” “Well they kinda are if she’s wanting to hook up with you.” Katya cocked an eyebrow at the comment.

“Like, don’t get me wrong, between her and Violet, I’d pick her anyday.”

Detox sniggered at the banter.

“Let me get this straight. You’d prefer Alaska as my boyfriend, over Violet, and you actually think you get a say?” Katya asked, baffled. “Nothing straight about this, honey, but essentially, yes. I get more than a say.” “You do?” “Yeah, I get the final say,” Trixie said and smirked confidently. “How?” “Senior Citizen’s Protection Act, dumbass. STDs are on the rise among the elderly. Someone needs to step up!” Detox and Katya both shrieked a laugh. Roxxxy bit her lip in amusement. “Luckily for you, I approve of gramps coitus. I aspire to practise it one day,” Trixie finished her analysis. When her laughter eventually calmed down, Katya glanced at the balcony and grabbed a beer from the table. “What should I say?” Katya asked Detox and Roxxxy, who both shrugged, clueless. “Well, whatever you say, dear God, don’t be yourself,” was Trixie’s helpful advice.

Katya flipped her the finger and walked to the balcony with the beer. She knocked lightly before stepping outside and closed the door just in time not to catch Detox’s answer to Trixie’s question over whether Rolaskatox was actually a thing, like, a sex thing. Katya really didn’t need to know.

She turned to face Alaska who was leaning to the balcony rail and watching her from the corner of her eye. “Hey bro, wanna fuck?” Katya grunted and managed to draw a short laugh from Alaska. “I hope you brought cigarettes?” Katya frowned. “You out?” “No, mine are in my jacket pocket,” Alaska explained. “Which is in the living room. Next to Roxxxy’s chair.” “Huh,” Katya shrugged. “Would like me to get them?” she asked and was a little surprised at the grateful look on Alaska as she asked: “Would you?” “Well, they’ve already taken the piss out of me, so I don’t really think they have anything else to add,” Katya said, smirked and passed the beer to Alaska. “Here, I’ll be right back.” Katya walked back to the living room listening to Roxxxy’s voice. “- on the sea-shore. The shells she sells are sea-shells, I’m shore. Fuck, SURE. For if she shells… sells, sea-shells on the sea-shore. Then I’m sure she sells sea-shore shells.” “Not bad, Andrews, not bad!” Trixie complemented and noticed Katya. “She dumped your ass already? Not that I blame her.” Katya rolled her eyes at Trixie and found the pack of cigarettes in Alaska’s pocket. “Just these,” she said and showed the item to the crew. “Running errands? Girl, don’t let her boss you around like that. You’re a strong independent woman!” Trixie increased her voice gradually to make sure Katya caught her comment as she walked back to the balcony and closed the door once more behind her. “That was quick,” Alaska said and reached for the pack as soon as she saw it. “Better not to encourage them with my prolonged presence,” Katya said and passed the pack to Alaska. They lit two cigarettes and leaned to the balcony rail, watching over the city scenery.

“So, you like me, huh?” Katya asked after a while. It wasn’t really worth trying to pretend otherwise. “Never really had a good taste in men,” Alaska said and drew a slow drag from the cigarette. “I blame parenting, not enough guidance.”

She refused to meet Katya’s eyes.

“Yeah?” “Hmm.” “My mother’s great,” Katya said, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Taught me two things: always mean what you say, even if you don’t mean to, and, if someone likes you, like them back. Because those people are probably a lot smarter than you are.”

Alaska burst out laughing. “Roxxxy is right, you truly are a weirdo.”

“Yeap,” Katya nodded in agreement. “The rumour is, that gives you a boner.” Alaska turned to look at Katya and as their eyes met, it was done and dealt with. Katya grabbed Alaska’s collar and pulled her down to meet her lips in a hungry kiss. Both protecting their cigarettes, the pair explored each others mouths, lips, teeth, taste. “Fuck yes,” Katya moaned as Alaska grabbed her neck to pull her closer, chest to chest. It was some moments later that Alaska broke the kiss due to a high pitched whistle. “We should probably go back inside.” “It’s a catcall, not a fucking fire alarm,” Katya grunted, clearly frustrated. “You don’t have to go anywhere.” Alaska cackled at Katya’s firm tone, her need, and had just enough time to glance at the people in the living room before Katya pulled her into another kiss. Inside, Trixie stopped whistling after it no longer had any effect on the pair at the balcony. “Are they actually… No! Really?! Fuck me!” she exclaimed as she followed the proceedings outside. “Is she actually going to suck her off right there?” “Probably,” Detox shrugged. Alaska was private, but among friends she had no boundaries. Had never had.   “Ok, I can’t watch this, Jesus Christ. Can we like, move to the kitchen or something?” Trixie said, distressed. In mutual agreement the trio grabbed their drinks and the snacks, and started to move towards the kitchen. “Hell of a first kiss, I say,” Trixie snorted as they walked and shook her head. “Jealous?” Roxxxy asked, smirking. “Hell yeah!” Trixie admitted immediately. “Who doesn’t want their dick sucked?” Detox and Roxxxy exchanged a look between them. “We might be able to help you with that…”

___________ A/N2: Liked it? And yes, the 'sea-shore’ was a fucking nightmare!! Haha ~

[artificialqueens]

Vanilla (Chapter 2) - Honey Blue

AN: Hey! I’ll be uploading this around weekly by the way, I forgot to say that last time. Comments and feedback really helps motivate me to actually write the ending to this! I have a drag race blog here if you’d like to talk to me in any sort of depth or if you’d like more frequent updates.

Summary: Trixie and Katya have been best friends for years. When a confrontation with Katya’s abusive boyfriend goes drastically wrong, they go on the run.

AO3 Link Chapter 1

The second time she’d met Trixie had been on purpose. They’d talked over text for a month.

Tricks (19:34): I’m outside, you dirty disgusting waste of space x

Katya smiled at her phone before texting back with her spare hand, other hand was nursing a beer.

Basically A Waste Of Lungs (19:36): I’m inside by the bar. I got my drink, you’re late. Beware of angering me, you would not care to do that x

Moments later, Trixie landed in the stool next to her.  They grinned at each other.

“So, do you come here often?” Trixie joked.

“That depends, what are you wearing?” Katya retorted. Trixie threw her head back laughing.

“You can fucking see me bitch.”

“No, I can see through you.”

Trixie shook her head, and put an arm around Katya. After a hug, Katya’s grin grew. There’s a moment of comfortable silence.

“Get me a drink,” Trixie ordered.

“Fuck off,” Katya responded whilst motioning to the bartender for another.

_________________

“Is that everything?” Trixie swallows. She looks at the torn-apart room and feels ill.

“Think so, come on. We’ll head to yours, grab your stuff and head off.” Katya doesn’t wait for a response, “We have our stuff. We have your car, which we’ll drive until we can find an alternative. We need money. We’ll pick a city and head there. People have money,” Katya concludes.  “We can get money from people.”

“All of the criminals in movies head to Seattle,” Trixie contributes.

Criminals. That slows down Katya’s thinking. Her eye hurts.

“Then we won’t head there. Chicago maybe?”

Going back to Boston crosses Katya’s mind, but she pushes it away. That’d be stupid. Obvious. And painful. If she’s going down, she’s not dragging her mama into this.

Trixie zips up Katya’s suitcase. It’s a carry on one, small enough for an airplane.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Miami?” Trixie suggests. She picks up the suitcase, forcing her fingers to obey her. Her body is shaking beyond control.

“Miami then,” Katya settles. Exhaling lightly, she tries not to look at his side of the room. Don’t panic. She looks at Trixie, “come on.”

Katya walks out of the room. As she walks past the kitchen, she closes the door. The amazement mixed with horror which is filling Trixie paralyzes her. She stops. After noticing the stillness, Katya turns, “what?”

The suitcase hits against Trixie’s legs as her arms shake,  “how the fuck are you this fucking composed Katya? I fucking killed your fucking boyfriend. Our whole lives just fell the fuck apart- Honest: how are you doing this? How the fuck are you doing this?” Trixie’s voice cracks. There are tears in her eyes again. Part of her wants to punch something, another part of her wants to curl up in a ball and stay there for eternity. She’d do anything to feel numb.

Katya swallows looking at only Trixie. Thoughts swirl so violently in her head that she’s surprised Trixie can’t hear them.  “It’s because I’ve got a job to do.”

It was the first time Katya had ever been in Trixie’s apartment.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me your family were spies?”

Katya laughed, her head rolled back against Trixie’s sofa.  They were both wine drunk, steadily becoming the best of friends.

“Obviously they weren’t. They just moved to the country. You know, work, life, opportunities, a willingness to fuck dogs.”

After snorting and nearly dropping her glass, Trixie giggled out “well, how the hell am I meant to tell? Everything you say is bullshit.”

Katya chuckled, before sticking her tongue out at Trixie, “what do you want from me? I am what I -”

“Please don’t start singing, you’re tuneless. I could use being able to hear tomorrow, I have work.”

Katya snorted, “you’re so mean to me.”

Trixie’s apartment was small, her living room was even smaller.  

“Seriously, how much of what you’ve told me has been lies?” Trixie asked.

Deflated, Katya answered, “some. My family aren’t spies. I’m not the most flexible woman in the world and I haven’t actually ever been in an orgy. I haven’t actually ever been a getaway driver. I also don’t have an IMDB page. I wasn’t in Star Wars.  My family also don’t like fucking dogs, that’s just me.”

Trixie laughed and placed a hand on Katya’s knee, “well, that’s disappointing.”

“Nobody is more disappointed about it than I am,” Katya joked. She started picking at her own finger nails, “I can start being more honest if you like.”

Grinning, “really?”

Katya smiled and poked Trixie in the side, “honest.”

_________________

Trixie’s apartment is organized. That makes life easier. It’s how it is whenever Katya walks into it. It smells the same. No metallic stench, no sickness.

It doesn’t feel the same. They both head to Trixie’s bedroom.

“Help me pack,” Trixie orders.

“Bring your makeup,” Katya adds. Trixie stops still, nearly falling. Katya whips around, she reaches out and grabs Trixie’s hand, “Come on, we’ve got to-”

“I’m not going to cosmetology anymore.”

The room turns silent. It isn’t comfortable. It’s aching, and awkward. Katya doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know anymore.

After a small heart break, Katya tries squeezes her hand, “I’m sorry.”

Trixie snorts. There’s a headshake, a small recoil away from Katya’s touch. “It isn’t your fault. But that was my dream. I moved here for that opportunity. I left home for that. That-I almost had it.”

Their eyes meet. Trixie’s are red. Katya refuses to cry. Everything hurts, but she will not cry. Pain is seeping into the edges of her numb state.

“It certainly isn’t yours,” Katya corrects her. “And I’m sorry, but the makeup is for me.”

Katya smiles. Trixie frowns.

“Why do you need it? Why now? You’ve always looked like this?” Trixie says.

After a beat, Katya laughs. The pain disappears before crashing back down.

“It’s for my eye,” Katya explains. “We’ll get questions if I look like I’ve just been to battle.”

Trixie’s blood runs cold again. With her free hand, she reaches up and strokes a thumb softly over the bags underneath Katya’s eye. The intimacy of the moment strikes Katya as strange. It isn’t something she’s used to. She leans into the touch for a second, before recoiling away.

“Katya, I-”

“Later, I figure we’ll stop at a motel. Proper ‘runaway’ style. I can’t do this now. But honest: we will,” Katya stands up. A sigh escapes Katya’s body, her heart beating hard in her chest. It hasn’t stopped beating at a million miles per hour.

Trixie stays looking up at her. “Leave your phone behind.”

_________________

“You have to be able to do makeup, you’re a fucking burlesque dancer.”

“Trixie Sugartits Mattel, Honey, do you really think they’re looking at my face?”

Trixie pulled the eyeshadow brush away from Katya’s face whilst she doubled over laughing. Katya swatted at her arm.

“Hurry up! I wanna hit the town,” Katya shouted.

With a shake of her friend, Trixie straightened up and started applying the eyeshadow again. Katya grinned at her.

“Stop looking at me!”

“You’re too pretty!” Katya giggled. “Maybe I don’t need to hit the town, I’ve got a fucking Miss Wisconsin in front of me!”

Katya reaches out to tickle Trixie, who pulls away from it.  Trixie started laughing again, “I require a drink and an engagement ring before you play any games with me Miss Boston.”

Nodding slowly, Katya hummed in contemplation, “how about no drink and the ring is one of those edible candy ones that kids choke on?”

Trixie snorted before giggling out, “sold. I’m yours.”

The makeup that usually took her twenty minutes to apply took her an hour. The laughter and alcohol had Katya’s heart thumping out of her chest, and she wasn’t complaining.

_________________

Trixie brushes the makeup onto Katya’s face as quickly as she can. There’s no laughter this time. Little strokes with unclean brushes. It sends her to her happy place for a second at least. She tries to not remember their old nights out. They could be about to go clubbing on a Tuesday, their shared evening off. It could just be a night full of laughing, crossing lines and fireworks of emotion. It could be one of those nights that Trixie would watch as Katya takes a lucky girl or guy home. Trixie wouldn’t carry a bud of resentment, but the lonely feeling would sink back in.

It could have been one of those nights, when their friendship was young and Katya still drank and they didn’t carry a single scar.

Isn’t it shitty how things change?

The hand on Katya’s jaw is shaking. Trixie hasn’t stopped shaking. She twists Katya’s head to check the job she’s done.

“It’s finished,” Trixie nods. She lets go.

Katya smiles at her. It doesn’t spread to her eyes.

_________________

Together, they gather just under $700 from their savings. They walk to the car in silence, the money in Katya’s purse. It should get them some of the way, but Katya’s mind is flying through where to go next.

_________________

“You’ve been quiet,” Trixie whispers.

They’ve been driving for two hours and thirty seven minutes. Trixie’s thinking too fast. She’s been counting time, watching the roads, and clasping too tightly to the steering wheel as she drives. Katya’s been reading the map for fourteen minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Katya says back. Her throat clears at the beginning of the sentence. “I’ve just been consumed by- everything? Thought? I don’t fucking know,” she crunches the map up in her hands and chucks it at her feet.

“You? Thinking?” Trixie jokes.

Smiling, Katya answers “I’ve been known to do it occasionally.”

Trixie’s grasp on the steering relaxes slightly. The sick feeling in her stomach remains still.

“I should do it more often,” Trixie sighs.

“You’re not stupid, don’t give me that shit.”

Katya looks out the window. Passing buildings that make no particular impact on her. She analyzes the faces of people they’re passing, none of them look even mildly happy. Everyone in this fucking world is miserable.

Trixie’s grip tightens again, “honest: If I wasn’t stupid, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Silence. Katya stares at her, her stomach flipping over and over. Slowly, a laugh escapes Katya. Trixie’s eyes widen.

“I hate that honest thing we do. How fucking elementary school. How do you know you’re being honest? How do you know you’re not wrong? And you’re not being honest, believe me, you’re not the stupid one.”

The words settle in Trixie’s mind. Her heart skips a beat. The car is warm. It’s starting to get dark outside. They’re in suburbs right now. There’s going to be a point where they have to start avoiding main roads, but for the time being they use them.

“You started the honest thing and I’m keeping it. And, honest: you’re not stupid Katya,” Trixie responds. She cringes after she says it, bracing herself for the response.  

Katya looks at Trixie, who looks dead ahead. Swallowing, she says, “we should keep driving tonight. I can drive when you get tired.”

A beat of comprehension.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Katya lets her silence answer the question for her.

_________________

Trixie woke up on Katya’s sofa years earlier with Katya staring over her.

“Well, hey there,” Trixie said as she pulled herself up into sitting. Katya passed her a coffee as she sat next to her.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” Trixie replied. She rubbed at the ache in the back of her neck, “sorry for falling asleep here.”

“I don’t give a single shit Trixie,” Katya responded. Trixie laughed into her coffee as she attempted to take a sip.“I had a dream with you in,” Katya continued.

“Sexy or really sexy?”

“Sexy. We went on a holiday, like a road trip. I think you fucked a marine.”

Trixie nodded slowly to herself, “I have always had a thing for fish.”

Katya snorted, she grabbed Trixie’s thigh as she laughed. “Yeah! Crabs!”

_________________

Despite it all, Katya does fall asleep. Exhaustion creeps into her, lowers her defenses.

Trixie keeps driving. They used to want to do this trip. Go all over America, doing whatever they wanted. See sights and drink beer and kiss strangers.

She blocks words out of her head and vetoes thoughts. No mentions of body, or his name, or Katya’s bruises, or blame.

Trixie looks over occasionally at her friend, able to smile at the peace on her face; for this second, Katya is happy. She hasn’t seen Katya happy, or even restful, in far too long.

_________________

“Come on, you rotten carcass,” Trixie laughed. Katya was slung over her shoulders. They were making their way up to Trixie’s apartment, it’d been a long night.

“Listen! I’m not rotten! I’m dew-faced, elegant, ready to rumble and lonely!” she shouted before she fell into heaps of laughter. Rolling her eyes, Trixie pulled Katya along.

“You’re so drunk,” Trixie chuckled. They were nearly at the door.

Giggling, Katya kissed her cheek. Trixie’s smile grew. “You’re so special,” Katya said.

Trixie didn’t dignify it with a response, she opened her apartment door. Pushing past her, Katya rushed in and jumped on the couch with a loud scream of Russian.  

“You good there Katya?” Trixie checked, she flipped the light switch and relocked the door.

“Yeah.” the answer was drawn out. Laughing again, Trixie nearly tripped over.

“Honest?” Trixie asks.

There’s a break before Katya responds, “honest: No. Everything’s spinning?”

Shaking her head, “go to sleep,” Trixie ordered.

There was a mumble into a pillow, which earned a smirk from Trixie. Trixie walked to the kitchen. Whilst there, she filled two glasses of water and grabbed some paracetamol. She put one glass down on the side, and took the other to Katya.

Katya was asleep. Knocked out. Completely. Her mouth was open slightly, and her breath whistled. Shaking her head again, Trixie rolled Katya onto her side in case she threw up. She put the drink and the paracetamol on the floor next to the couch.

For a moment, Katya looked restful. That is the first time Trixie’s ever seen her sleep.

Walking out, Trixie wished her sweet dreams and turned off the light.

_________________

The world is in that weird transition between night and morning. Liminal space between today and tomorrow. Trixie’s wide awake. Her heart beats hard in her chest. She couldn’t sleep, she sees the blood every time a red car drives in the opposite direction.

Katya stirs, head turning further into the seat. Her black eye is starting to show again. Trixie doesn’t even know the extent of the damage. She’d seen less of Katya recently, but could she have imagined this?

If Katya never gets hurt again by that man, does Trixie even regret it? The guilt is clawing at her mind, scratching at sleep. Trixie didn’t mean too, she never intended this.

“Does that make it better?” Trixie whispers.

On time, Katya moans slightly into the back of the chair. Trixie smiles, she stares ahead at the road. Keep driving, head to Miami. Keep Katya safe.

[artificialqueens]

Katya (Trixya) pt 2/? - Skyline

AN: And we’re back with a new chapter! Thank you guys so much for the likes and asks, I really appreciate it :) Hope everyone had a fun NYE and New Years Day! For anyone asking about that Trixya NYE fic I wrote a month or so ago, Uhm I’m not sure If I should continue it? If anyone has any good ideas or suggestions for it let me know and hopefully I can come up with a few more chapters of it :P Anyways just a few clarifications before you read, the Dan in this chapter is not Danny from the First chapter. This Dan is Milk out of drag which is his real name so sorry for any confusion. And Katya’s husband will be none other than Bianca out of Drag (Roy) so there’s that too. Lots of drag queens will be mentioned in this Fic, most of them out of drag because theres only serveral woman roles in the movie. But if you know most of the Queens’ real names then you’ll be able to tell whose who. Also this might turn out a bit longer than expected because translating this movie into an actual piece of writing is taking a lot longer than I thought so yay for long chaptered fics! Any feedback will fuel my motivation to write so please leave some of your thoughts, crutiques and compliments if you like the fic :) Hope you all enjoy! Again feedback is loved and appreciated <3 - Skyline

Summary: Lesbian Trixya AU based off the incredible movie Carol, set in New York during the 50’s. Katya, a mother struggling through a messy divorce meets young, inexperienced Trixie at a department store and they hit it off.

             Trixie’s smile faded shortly after the older blonde was out of sight. Her gaze lingered as her mind swam with new thoughts and feelings she’d never experienced before. Attraction. To another woman? She suddenly felt almost wrong for having these very forward, risque thoughts. She immediately turned her attention to the store’s delivery reciept for her order. What was her name anyway? She thought, looking at the small slip of paper, scanning for the name. Hm. Katya. It was oddly fitting for the grand woman who grabbed ahold of her undivided attention just moments ago. She turned to place the reciept with all the others. Turning back towards all the chaos, her eyes honed in on the eccentric pair of red gloves Katya had left behind on the front counter. Oh no…                                                  ………………….

          Her shift was over. Boy had it been a long day. She headed towards the lockers as the alarm bells signifying the end of the work period rang powerfully through the store. She swung open her locker and stood there, eyes shut, waiting for the obnoxious blare of the ringing to stop. She opened her eyes as it stopped and snatched her santa hat off her now frizzy blonde hair and tossed it into the small square locker. At last she was free.                                                  …………………..

             Trixie sat on Matt’s lap, leaning her head on his shoulder as one of the newest films from hollywood played on the screen well a ways ahead of them. Jay, the reason they’re here in the projector room watching the film for free in the first place, glanced down at Dan with an annoyed expression on his face. Dan and Jay were brothers and Matt’s long-time Childhood friends. Jay worked at the Cinema, which was great for free unlimited movie watching. (If you liked watching movies from the small cramped projector room above the actual theater.) And Dan was an aspiring journalist who worked for the New York Times. He stared intently at the film, jotting down some notes, not noticing his head covering half the opening on the wall in front of them. “Move over! Nobody else can see the screen.” Jay nagged at Dan, cigarette hanging from his lips, to which Matt added, “Nobody else is watchin’!”

             He playfully squeezed Trixie’s sides causing a small gasp to escape her mouth along with a quick, “I’m watching!” She turned her attention back to the screen. Matt just laughed and snuggled closer into Trixie’s neck, placing small kisses to it through her hair. Dan spoke up, admitting it was his sixth time seeing the film. “Right now I’m charting the correlation between what the characters actually say and how they really feel.” Trixie just smiled and nodded pretending like she understood the words coming out of his mouth. Jay turned to them with an unamused stare, still puffing on his half-gone cigarette. “My kid brother, the movie jerk.” He smirked while Trixie and Matt chuckled, but stopped short not wanting to hurt Dan’s feelings. Behind her, Matt kept messing with her hair provoking Trixie to lightly elbow him in the arm. She could never pay attention when Matt was around distracting her. And as of late she couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.                                          ……………………..

                "I’m strictly a beer man, everything else makes me wanna vomit.“ Dan rambled on as the four of them sat at the bar in a dimly lit restaraunt down the street. Trixie giggled feeling the effects of the alcohol already, causing her to have little to no filter. "Well, wine makes me feel naughty, but in a good way.” She added not realizing her boldness before it left her red wine stained lips. Dan smiled widely at her as Matt went on about how he drinks to forget he has to get up for work in the morning. “Now see, thats your problem. You really oughta’ drink because you remember you have a job. Employments a curse.” Jay retorted, tilting his head back to down the rest of his beer. “You have a job, Jay.” Trixie recounted not really getting his point. “You call that a job? I call that an Illusion.” “You get paid.” Dan chimes in, “Is money an illusion?” he adds sarcasticly. “My kid brother, the jerk philosopher.” Everyone including Dan chuckle at Jays inside joke.

                "And Where do you work?“ Trixie asks Dan, it dawning on her that Matt never mentioned it. "Didn’t you know? Dannie here works at the New York Times.” Matt throws in realizing he never specified. “No Kidding!” Trixie loves that newspaper. It’s the best in the city. “Its a Job.” Dan says it with regret in his voice, but continues, “What I really wanna do is write. Thats why I watch movies.” It felt like the only person he was speaking to was Trixie considering he never took his eyes off her as he spoke. Trixie just smiled their gazes locked until Jay commented, “Everyone’s a writer.”

              "Say Trix, Before I get too drunk to remember…“ Jay handed her the small camera she had given him to fix a week or so ago. She gasped as she took her pride and joy into her hands. "You did it? Its fixed?” She grinned enthusiasticly turning it in her hands. “He said it was a cinch. No sweat.” Jay replied nonchalantly. “Oh, Thank you Jay. I was missing it.” Trixie continued to admire her camera when she felt Dans eyes on her. She peaked up at him and he remarked, “So you take pictures?” “Well..” she began when she was cut off by Matt. “She’s more excited about some chintzy camera than she is about sailing with me to Europe.” The boys shot in, “Women.” and “You said it, pal.” Trixie just glared at them and acted like she was going to snap candid photo’s of them to get revenge.

              The group walked out into the cold New York air. It was past midnight and all were wanting to get to their beds and pass out before another undoubtably long day at work. All walking in the same direction they passed a few friends, all drunk, and made small talk, Trixie promising to call her friend Dottie soon, before they were back on their route to home. Dan turned to Trixie, a small smile on his lips. “Say. You should come by the Times for dinner sometime. I work nights, so.. I got a pal whose a junior photo editor. He loves to Pontificate. I’ll introduce you.” “Really? Yeah. I’d like that.” She quickly looked over to her boyfriend and Jay who were messing around a few paces behind them. “Yeah?” she turns back to Dan. “Okay?” “Okay.” she replies. At her apartment, Trixie sits at the kitchen table while Matt snores the night away in her bed. With her head in her hands she looks down at the red gloves and delivery reciept she had swiped from work. If there was any possible way of seeing the vibrant Katya again, this would be it. She grabs an envelope from her kitchen drawer, slips the gloves inside and scrawls out Katya’s full name (What country is that last name from?) and address on the backside before sealing it up. She slips on her shoes and coat and scurries downstairs and across the street to the mailbox. Giving one last dwell on the situation she stops herself from thinking too hard and slips the envelope into the box. Jogging hurriedly across the street she makes her way back up to her apartment.                                              ……………………

               The mail truck stops right outside Katya and Roy’s luxurious suburb mansion in Long Island. Roy has his driver wait outside for him, promising he’ll be quick. He grabs the mail from the postman and thanks him quickly before entering their once shared home.

            Upstairs in her bedroom Katya and Violet are sitting in front of her Vanity, counting the brush strokes together as Katya combs out her daughters thick, long, black locks. “64…” Violet says in her sickenly sweet baby voice. “65” they say in unison and Violet contiues, “66, 67, 68..” They both hear Roy’s voice greeting the maid downstairs. “That must be your Daddy. Come on, better finish up.” She puts the brush down and combs through her baby’s hair wih her fingers, staring blankly out the window, waiting a bit anxiously for her husband to come upstairs. “Mommy, can you come skating, too?” Violet asks, her voice making Katya’s heart melt like a popsicle on the fourth of July. She looks at her baby’s pleading eyes and answers the only way she knows how to these days. “Oh I wish I could, sweet pea.” Her Four year old quick to respond asks, “Why not? Pretty Please?” Katya looks at the girl with sad eyes and kisses her forehead affectionately.

            "Hiya, Sunshine!“ Roy steps into the bedroom arms open ready to engulf his baby girl in a hug. Before he even gets close, Violet is blurting, "Daddy! I want mommy to come.” as she’s being picked up into Roys arms. “Oh, you do, do you?” He says as he swings Violet from side to side causing high pitched giggles to fill the room. Katya turns to look at the man she once loved so deeply. “You’re early.” she says simply, barely any expression on her symmetrical face. Roy just grins at her with their child in his arms then moves to throw the small pile of mail on the bed. “Mail came.” he says simply as well. And thats that.

        The three are sitting round the dining table, Violet on Roy’s lap scribbling away with her crayons on a coloring book. “Cy Harrison’s wife..” Roy begins but is quickly corrected by Katya, “Ginger.” Roy goes on, “Ginger asked about you.” “Did she?” nonchalant as can be. “I know she’d love to see you there..” He’s of course refering to the Christmas Party their friends host every year. This would be the first year Katya would not attend in over 6 years. She stares at him but his gaze is fixated on Violets coloring. “Well give her my best. I’ve always liked Ginger.” He looks up. Anger crosses his feature before he says a bit more sternly, “I’d like you to be there.” They stare at eachother challengingly for a few moments before Katya looks away. “Sorry, Roy. I have plans.” Violet stops her coloring upon hearing her parents speak. She sneakily adds, “Mommy wants to give Aunt Courtney some presents..” Roys face instantly hardens at the mention of Courtney’s name. He looks harshly at Katya before rubbing Violets back and softly says, “You’ve been seeing a lot of Aunt Courtney lately, haven’t you, Sunshine?” “Yes.” she repies sweetly. “With Mommy.”

          Katya shifts uncomfortably in her seat under his scrutinizing gaze. She looks up into his hurt eyes then back down quickly. “I’ll see if I can rearrange with Courtney.” Roy’s face immediately relaxes back to normal. “Thank you.” A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She returns with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her bewitching green eyes.

                                                    ………………..

           Trixie’s back at work a few days later, stupid santa hat in place on top of her shining, curly head. She’s in the shipping department at Frankenbergs talking with the head manager about Katya’s order. “Well I told the customer it would arrive by Christmas Eve. According to what we’ve been told, three days should be plenty of time..” She’s cut off by the shipping manager. “It should have been delivered this afternoon.” she pauses caught off guard by his swift answer. “—Oh.. Right, so it arrived, she signed for it?” “It arrived.” he says an almost annoyed tone to his words. “Oh okay, great. Thank you, Thanks.” She calls as she walks rapidly back to her department.

             Hours later she’s back to work, helping a woman with wrapping a doll box for her child. “Miss Mattel. MISS MATTEL?!” she hears from across the department and looks right into the eyes of her dreaded supervisor. “Over here. Now.” She shouts snapping her long witch-like fingers at her. Trixie apologizes to the customer saying she’ll just be a moment and hastily walks over to where her supervisor is with a phone in her hand. She hands Trixie the phone without a word and walks toward the customer in need. “Hello?” the operator immediately asks Trixie to identify herself as employee 645-A. She does and she’s informed she will be patched through to whoever is trying to get ahold of her at work.

              Trixie leans against the counter top finally hearing the noise that indicates the lines are now joined. “Hello?” “So it was you.” Trixie immediately recognizes the suave voice over the line. “Oh hello, Mrs. Zamolodchikova. Did you recieve the train set all right?” she plays it cool, her heart pounding out of her chest would be the only thing giving her away. Katya is in her kitchen slaving away at the stove with the phone between her shoulder and ear. A true vision of a housewife. “I did. Yes. And the gloves! Thank you so much, you’re a gem for sending them. I just wanted to say— thank you, really..” “Of course.” a small pause on both ends but Katya picks it right back up again only slightly stammering over her words. “Well–What I wanted to say was… do you get a lunch hour there? Well, let me take you to lunch. It’s the least I can do.” Trixie is beside herself. Is this really happening? “Well, yes I…” she trys to answer the first part of the question but goes straight into the second question. “Of course, but you really don’t have to.” “I’m free tomorrow.” Katya says immediately not taking no for an answer. “Tomorrow?” “Do you know Scotty’s on Madison?” Trixie thinks for a second then replies, “No, I don’t know it. Hold on.” She turns to her supervisor who eyes her suspiciously before Trixie asks, “Could I borrow a pencil and paper?” The woman reluntantly puts down the paper she was reading and scowls at Trixie as she hands her the items. “Thank you.” she says a little to annoyed and gets back on the phone. “Um, Alright. Whats the address?”