#I hate hot weather so fucking much this is a HELLSCAPE and I HATE it

[citricacidprince]

Anyone who doesn’t believe in global warming is going to die by my hands this weather ISNT fucking normal

[lnane]

zero pressure to explain this to my american ass if you dont have the energy, but like.

whats sweden like, as someone who lives there? im always fascinated to hear about other parts of the world from the people who know them best, and i dont hear much about sweden in general, so ive got a lot to learn.

if thats too broad of a question, some suggestions: how do you feel about the weather, or the politics, or the holidays?

whats a nuisance yall joke about (like, over here in usamerica, its usually the military-industrial complex, or costly healthcare)?

or, whats something unique about sweden, or something that you think more people should know about it?

well we can do this in order of things that pop in my head, very disorganized.

to start of with weather: its getting too hot. the weather is actually pretty comfortable most of the time, and these last summers have been the best ive managed in my experience with heat, but you can tell by the climate that its too hot. its too dry, and theres very little snow during winter. its still cold as fuck, but no snow somehow. I wish it rained more. but on a day to day basis, weathers comfy. A bit windy sometime.

holidays i got very little thoughts on myself. theres a few of them and most are just days off. Im not too fond of the way we celebrate them but then again ive only been allowed to and wanted to drink for 2 years worth of them, so i havent gotten into it yet (yea alcohol is the biggest reason we actually still celebrate things i think)

politics is a fucking hellscape rn. the barely disguised neo-nazi party recently got the most amount of votes in the election so the right wing parties is in control. Theyve already started talking dumb shit about climate politics and immigrants. Not looking up. Beyond that i dont know much about the political landscape.

I dont know what a typical swede complains or jokes about because i dont hang out with a lot of them. I know gas prices is a common thing right now. We also have a trend in comedy calling norwegians idiots, which doesnt make sense because we hate denmark way more.

Its hard to say whats unique or special bout sweden because to be all of it is normal. Only real things you need to know is 1. if a swede tries to claim they cant speak english with you, only plausible conlusion is that they didnt finish middleschool (passing grade in english is mandatory), 2. anything that is a traditional swedish meal is pretty much garbage. Its mostly mildly spiced meat, potatoes, and some sauce similar to gravy.

I guess one thing thats a big difference from the american perspective is how our education looks through the years. First 9 are mandatory, ages 7-15 grade 1-9, in stages called Low, Middle, and High stage. After that, you legally have the choice to keep studying or to do something else (socially and economically you dont have that chocie), and at that point you choose your own education. The most common ones being things like Civics, Naturesciences, Technology, and Fine Arts (Art, Dance, Photo, Music, and theatre). Theres a bunch more but these the top picks. Usually lasts 3 years which after you should be around 18 years old and most of the time expected to apply for uni. And during that time you do get money for going to school (seperate from loans, and not a lot of money).

I can probably provide some more detailed information about what its like here with questions about specific parts, but keep in mind that i also know very little about this country. I just live here

[queen--kenobi]

Missed Connection

Summary: You know the Entity had a reason for dragging you into the Fog. You could never figure out why. An old friend is more than happy to remind you.

Pairings: Jed Olsen/Danny Johnson x survivor!reader. female!reader but no gendered language is used.

Author’s Note: Here’s my Danny fic set in the DBD world! It’s connected to Triple Trouble (here) but can be read as a one-shot.

Warnings: A Lot. Major character death (but not permanent), canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of torture, graphic depiction of murder, abuse. Danny shows his true colors in this. A Mori is also involved. This is a DARK fic

The air is cold.

It’s always the first thing you feel when being pulled into a Trial. The air. No matter where you go, every realm is a stark contrast to the campfire. Most maps are chilly. Anything in the swamp and the saloon are the only two places the air isn’t on the cold side. You know the feel of the swamp right away; it’s sticky and hot and cloying. All of the humidity of a swamp without any relief that night usually brings. The saloon is odd. It starts dry and hot but cools rapidly as the trial progresses. You aren’t sure if that’s the Entity mimicking the weather conditions outside of this hellscape or if it’s how the Deathslinger remembers it. You’re not sure if you’d get an answer if you asked.

This cold is... It’s not Ormund cold. You don’t feel like you’re walking into a snowstorm. It’s colder than others, though. Maybe it’s about to snow? Something else, too. A different kind of cold. You open your eyes, and ah. You were right. The ground has a very thin layer of snow blanketing it. You can see some flakes falling. The other source is from the open doors in front of you. Something similar to AC but not quite comes blasting at full force from the building.

You bite down on your tongue to suppress a groan. You look to your left. You let a small smile grace your face.

“Adam!” You perk up, the delight evident in your voice. Despite the match just starting, you know better than to speak too loudly. Adam smiles in response. The two of you pad over to the door together.

“I fucking hate Lery’s.” You groan as the two of you step into the old hospital. Adam lets out a soft noise of amusement. 

“Not my favorite either.” He murmurs in response. His eyes are darting from side to side, already becoming hypervigilant. 

“I just came from a trial with Myers.” You assure him. His shoulders visibly lower some. “I don’t think that’s the game the Entity wants to play right now.”

You know for a fact that this killer isn’t going to be Michael. A feeling deep within your gut tells you so. You just aren't sure who. You know that the pull this time was different, more malicious. As if the Entity had something terrible planned for you. You had seen a flash of light, the type from a camera, and heard a click before you'd been pulled under. You move and wince. Your back hurts like hell, as if old wounds were reopening. Adam looks at you. The terror shifts into a much softer expression.

"Do you still not know? He asks. 

“Nope.” You shake your head. You don’t remember much of what happened before... this. You remember two boys who broke your heart and another man. That’s where things got foggy. Everytime you think of this man, things get hazy. You remember that he was dangerous, and you remember he helped you somehow. He wasn’t kind or nice; he was clever and manipulative. Yet he seemed to be as nice as he could be towards you, as if he had some sort of soft spot for you. It made you think of Kill Bill with how Bill only made an effort to be sweet when it came to the Bride. Well, until he shot her. Something about that comparison seems too on-the-nose, though, so you don’t linger on the thought. You know that you were running away from someone or something, but it wasn’t serious. Yet it was at the same time. A deadly game seemed to be the best way to describe it. 

It had been a foggy morning. When you were taken. You were looking at a newspaper article about how a man, The Man, had disappeared. The article made your head hurt and not in a pleasant way. Like the beginnings of a crying headache. You went into your room and pulled a shoebox filled with pictures from its hiding spot. You dumped them all out onto your carpet and began to comb through them. Some made you smile while others made that pounding in your head worse. You must have left a window open because the fog began to seep into the room. As the fog began to curl around you and get denser, your vision got weird. You kept on seeing flashes of light, the kind that come from a camera, and your hands were red and sticky. The room began to smell more and more like blood and rot and cold and Death. 

When you came to, you were at the campfire. The photos were gone, and your hands were clean. You were cold, though. The campfire didn’t do much to get the chill out of your bones. Others around the campfire made their way to you when you started to move.

The beeping of the monitor and loud static brings you back. You wrinkle your nose as you step over a reddish-brown stain on the floor. Despite the blood being old and dry, it still smelled fresh. The smell of iron was strong. Adam makes a noise to get your attention. You look at him.

“Generator.” It’s not that far off. The two of you walk your way over to it, taking care to crouch some. The annoying clacking got louder as the two of you approached it. Thankfully, it seemed to be a three person generator. Adam took one side while you took the other. You liked working with Adam. Some survivors were too talkative. Some seemed almost too nervous to speak with you. You liked Adam for a lot of reasons. He clearly chose his words carefully when he spoke, he was well-educated, and he knew when to take calculated risks. A small smile makes its way onto your face. The first trial you were in with him, the Hag had seemed to be right on your ass. You had hid, but you knew that she was going to find you. Then, a sound distracted her. She went off in that direction. The sound had been Adam throwing a pebble. He admitted later that it didn’t always work, but he felt it was worth a shot.

As you worked, you took a moment to close your eyes. There was a way to see how the other survivors were doing, but you had to close your eyes to see it. You shake your head. It doesn’t tell you much other than everyone seems to be doing okay. Some weird sort of aura seems to be coming from one of the others, but you’re not sure what to make of it.

You know what to make of it soon enough. The generator comes to life, light flooding the area. You and Adam nod at each other before heading different directions. No doubt the killer would show up any moment now. You’re making your way towards the center of the map. Maybe you can get the generator in the middle quickly. A loud yelp of pain comes out of nowhere. Not the yelp of being hit but the one when someone gets knocked to the ground. You grind to a halt. That’s not good. You hadn’t heard anyone get hit, and everyone was at full health not too long ago. Whomever the four of you were up against, they had a one hit down. Not to mention, you were close to them. You crouch and move over to the wall, flattening yourself against it. It had sounded like Kate was the unfortunate victim. You peer around the corner, trying to see if the coast is clear. A loud scream rings out. Your eyes widen. It was Kate who got hooked. At least you were decently close to her. You could probably get her off the hook safely. You would need to wait, though, until you were sure the killer was far enough away. You move quickly and quietly across the hall to the other side of the doorway. You hazard a peek around the corner.

The hallway you look down leads to one of the bigger halls that border the hospital. Kate is on the hook, forcing herself to stay limp. Something is moving in the grass. You hope it’s Claudette and not a killer. You weren’t up to go against Amanda right now. The figure stops, as if he knows he’s been spotted. A chilling breath sounds in your ears, and you shudder. You can see Adam around the other corner. He’s closer to Kate than you are. You nod to him before stepping out into the hallway, hitting the wall with your shoulder to make as much noise as possible. Not that you needed to do that. The elongated white mask, which thank God it wasn’t Amanda, is facing in your direction. For whatever reason, the mask alone sends a chill and a familiar zing up your spine. 

The cloaked figure stands slowly. 

Your eyes widen. You... 

It feels all too familiar. The way he stands up and looks at you. He tilts his head, and you don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beat intensifies. It feels like it’s all you can hear. The robes are the same as you remember them. The mask is the same. You can see a camera strapped to one wrist and a knife in the other hand. Your breath is coming quicker now. It feels like you might pass out. Your feet feel stuck, though. The cloaked man then waves at you. 

You know. You know who it is.

“J- Danny.” Danny. That was his real name. Not Jed like he had told you when you first met. All of your memories are slamming into place with a force so hard you’re surprised you don’t topple over to the floor. Danny had been the man in those photos you were looking at when you were sucked into this realm. Danny had been the one in the newspaper, although they called him Jed in that. He’d been the one at the hospital and the house and the park and the-

He says your name. 

Danny says your name.

The inflection makes your skin crawl. It does sound as if he's genuinely happy to see you, but it's not entirely pleasant. The dark tone is evident. It’s the tone of a man who has spent all of his free time thinking about the ways that he can hurt you, both little and small, when your paths cross again.

“Missed you.” He practically purrs. You can tell he winks at you.

Finally, you find your feet. With speed you didn’t even know you had, you launch yourself down the hall. 

You don't have to look behind you to know Danny is chasing you. You aren't sure where you're running and how you're going to lose him. You’re just moving as fast as you can. You can’t stop to think. If you stop to think or plan, you’re dead. You whip around a corner so fast that you slide across the floor for a moment, nearly toppling over. You don’t, thank God. You see a pallet. You aim towards it. Behind you, you can hear Danny breathing. He’s closer now. You push yourself to go faster. A tingle runs up your spine, letting you know they got Kate off the hook. Good. Maybe you can play distraction long enough for them to get a generator or two done. You reach the pallet. The knife makes a noise as it arcs through the air. You slam the wooden pallet down as soon as you’re on the other side, knowing that Jed is close enough for it to smack him. He makes a noise and stumbles back several paces. 

You step back away from the pallet and stare at him over it. Your side, just shy of your back, hurts. You touch it, and your fingers come away covered in blood.

All of your instincts are telling you to run, but you can buy your teammates time. He’s not going to be able to resist taunting you. He stares at you over the pallet. Your chest heaves with each breath.

“What did you have to do to get me in a trial with you, huh?” You speak first. If you can get him talking, maybe you can stall long enough for them to get at least one generator done. He laughs. It makes your skin crawl.

“Stalling, huh?” A teasing lilt enters his voice. “Even after everything, you like to pretend you're a good guy. That you’re selfless. You and I? We both know better.”

“I can be better than I was.” You press on your side, hoping that applying pressure will make it easier for you to heal the wound. Assuming you get the chance to do so. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, you know. Wrote a letter to Santa Clause telling him I’d been really good this year.” Even though you can’t see his face through the mask, you can hear the feral grin. “What do you think?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot. Your eyes dart from side to side, trying to figure out which way would be faster out of this loop. A shockwave of light with a loud click sound surges through the arena. You smile. Two down, three to go. You don’t think you can run him for four gens, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. Danny tilts his head and regards you for a moment.

“Let me help you make a decision.” His tone is condescending. Danny raises his foot. You take off before he finishes kicking the pallet. You wait for him to go through the area the pallet used to be before you turn. You practically dive through the nearest window. You can hear him running around to the door of the small room. Thankfully, you’re in one of the rooms with two windows, so you dive out the second one and haul ass.

“Kid.” You don’t know where Bill is, but you can hear him. You keep on running. You don’t have time to look. You keep running. Danny’s footsteps are getting closer. You hear Bill swear, and you see him move to start running. You keep on moving. You know that Danny isn’t going to pay any attention to them. Bill starts to run in the opposite direction. True to your prediction, Danny doesn’t let up. You take a turn and then another, Danny getting closer and closer. You dodge his attacks the best you can, you try to push yourself farther faster, but you know that it’s only a matter of time before you get hit. You see another pallet and are headed for it. Danny’s knife hits you right between your shoulder blades. You let out a scream as you hit the ground.

Danny laughs. He at least sounds out of breath. He deftly plucks the knife from between your vertebrae. You try to push yourself up enough so that you can crawl, but he places a boot right on top of the wound. He bears down with all of his weight, and you yowl. He chuckles. The pain is so much that you need a minute after he lets up. You don’t have time to try again. He grabs you and slings you over his shoulder.

“Let’s see. Where do I have the best sightlines...?” He muses as he heads towards a hook. You snarl. You kick and punch at him. He makes a noise when you hit him in the solar plexus but doesn’t drop you. You aim for that stop again. He lets go of you intentionally, and you fall to the ground. You try to twist, hoping to grab his foot and bite before he can touch you again. It doesn’t work. You roll, and he plants his boot on your side. The side that he’d slashed earlier. You bite down on your tongue to hold in your scream. 

Danny downright chuckles. He moves his boot for a second. His knee goes right under where his foot had been as he kneels down. You think you might be able to throw him off, but he’s two steps ahead of you. He brings one of his hands down to the nasty gash on your side and digs his fingers into it. You feel blood running out of your mouth as you bite down hard on your tongue to keep from screaming. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He grunts, clearly displeased. He hooks his fingers into the side of the wound and under your skin. 

That makes you scream.

You nearly don’t hear his delighted laugh over it.

“I have missed you so much.” Danny’s voice is filled with dark delight. You want to kick him again, but you can’t. Instead, you glare at him. You wonder what kind of deal you could cut with the Entity so that you could hunt Danny down and torture him. He clicks his tongue. “Don’t give me that look. You’ve had your chance to be like me.”

“Fuck you.” You spit. Blood hits his mask. He stares at you for a long moment. You brace yourself from him to dig his fingers into the slice, but instead, he surges forward to grab your throat. He slams one of his knees into your chest as he does so, making you wheeze.

“I taught you better than that.” He hisses. “Now I’d behave, or else I’m going to make you watch as I slice Adam up right in front of you.” He pauses. The look on your face must have betrayed you. “Yeah, I saw the way you two looked at each other. I have half a mind to send you the pictures I have of me gutting him like a fish.”

Your nostrils flare. You can feel a sneer of your own making it onto your face.

“You can’t kill me yet.” You wheeze. “You won’t even be able to hook me a second time before I get out of here.”

To emphasize your point, another surge of light pulses through the arena. Danny merely grins at you.

“I only need to hook you once.” He hisses before standing back up and throwing you over his shoulder again. Your eyes widen. You see Adam round the corner, and you shake your head. You don’t want to yell at him about the Mori because you don’t want to give up his location. He trails behind you.

Getting thrown up on a hook is never a feeling you can get used to. It always hurts just as much as it did the first time. It hurts even worse now because Danny angles you so it goes through another vertebrae. You scream. Danny steps back to admire his work. 

“You know. We could have been a lot of things, you and I.” He comments idly. 

“Yeah, yeah. We could have had it all.” It’s hard to talk. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help yourself. Danny laughs.

“Go on. Dig yourself deeper.” He sounds positively delighted at the thought of hurting you even more. He steps back. “I’ll see you later, dear.” He steps back several more paces before crouching down and disappearing into the shadows. You don’t look at Adam. You just watch where Danny disappeared, not trusting him to be gone yet. You see someone out of the corner of your eyes. It takes you a moment to realize that Bill is the one here. He grabs you, and Kate scuttles out from around a corner as well. The two of them lift you up off the hook and help you down. You want to stand up, but Bill speaks before you can.

“He’s not coming back.” His gruff tone is even gruffer, thick with disappointment. He and Kate begin working on patching you up.

“Where’s Adam? He’s going to go after Adam.” You try not to swear as they work.

“Adam’s distracting him.” Kate’s voice is soft. The two of them finish. You stand up.

“No.” You shake your head. “The three of you can get out if I distract him.”

“Kid.” Bill glares at you. You shut your mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear anything from you. Fucking a murderer.” You look to the floor. You don’t have an excuse. Kate’s expression is conflicted. She looks as if she wants to apologize for Bill’s behavior but also sides with him.

“The three of you can get out.” You repeat. “He only wants me. So.. Get Adam and get out.”

“Fine.” Bill says after a long moment. He jerks his head in the direction of a generator, and the two of them slink that way. You walk in the opposite direction. You wander towards one of the main halls, keeping your eyes peeled for Danny. You don’t see him. You imagine he’s stalking Adam now. You’re far enough away from Bill and Kate that you can start making noise. You jump in and out of a locker several times before vaulting a window loudly. It’s not long before you get the feeling you’re being watched.

Another surge. You grin. One more to go. 

“I’m beginning to think you missed me too.” Danny stands up from his crouched position at the end of the hallway. “You’re not this selfless.”

“Maybe I am now.” You respond. You prepare yourself to run. The mask tilts. You can feel the smug grin rolling off of him.

“Your boy toy helped me out.” Danny purrs. “I only have to hit you once.”

Fuck.

The air shifts, and you know that Danny is telling the truth. He stalked Adam long enough that now, he can get you down with one blow. You look to the nearest window, but the Entity must know what you’re thinking. Dark tendrils are blocking it. You look back at Danny.

“I can count you down.” He offers in his most helpful tone. “I’ll start at 10.”

You turn and run. You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You don’t care to find out. You think you’re near the office in this place. There might be enough windows in there for you to make a quick get-away. You see the stairs. Fuck it. Those might be better. You take them two at a time. Your heartbeat begins to thunder in your ears. You reach the top of the stairs just as Danny gets to the bottom. He grins up at you. 

“You know, Danny.” You begin with an even tone. You don’t know why you’re about to be this stupid. “I’ve got something to say.”

“Oh?”

“You know why I didn’t stay? I found someone better than you.” The effect is instant. Anger rolls off of him in a wave, his shoulder tensing and hand clutching the knife harder.

“Liar.” He hisses.

“Would I lie about something like that?” Your lips twitch. “Truth of the matter is that you were weighing me down. I found someone who was my equal. I was going to be so much more than you ever were.”

You run and jump down the hole in the ceiling. You don’t have to look to know that Danny has charged up the stairs. You hit the floor and roll. You scramble to your feet just as Danny begins his freefall. You bolt. You run as fast as you can. As you do, you pray. You pray that the other three get the last generator. You know it’s probably futile, but you do it anyway. A loud noise sounds as the largest surge of light blasts. You start laughing as you run.

They can open the doors. They can get out.

Your glee is short lived. You guess what you said truly pissed Danny off because he catches up to you quicker than you expected. This time, he brings the knife all the way down your back, from the bottom of your neck to your lower back. It feels as if your back has been split in two, which you guess it has been. You fall to the floor with a yell. Danny wastes no time in straddling your lower back.

“See, now.” He begins conversationally. You can feel him shaking with rage. “This could have been quick, but you had to go and say that. I was going to be nice for once.” He shifts. He shows you the camera in his hand. “But then again, I don’t think you like me when I’m nice. I think you like it when I’m mean. And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” The cool blade pressed down on your back. You suck in a deep breath and brace yourself. This was going to fucking hurt. He pauses for a second. Danny leans forward and brushes your hair off the back of your neck gently. His touch is soft, like a lover’s. 

“You know I could never deny you.” Danny intones before jamming the knife as far into your back as it will go. Your whole body tenses. You hear a scream. It takes you a moment to realize it’s yours. Tears roll down your face as he slowly drags the knife down along your spine. You can feel snot bubbling out of your nose and blood seeping out of your mouth. Your hands scramble to try and grab him, throw him off, but you can’t. The pain is so much that you can’t move. Danny coos condescendingly. 

“It hurts, I know, but I need you to take just a little bit more. Can you do that? For me?” He chuckles darkly at the end of that. “God. Your insides are prettier than I thought they’d be.” 

He stops, having reached the top of your waist. You’re sure he can see bone. You can’t make a sound anymore. At some point, your voice gave out. You can barely register the noise of the exit gates opening. The ground shakes. Tiny orange cracks begin forming on the ground and walls. Danny doesn’t pay them any attention. Instead, he grabs the sides of the long gash he just made and wrenches the skin apart. Your head falls to the floor, and you writhe, trying to get away from him. He laughs. He shifts, no doubt reaching for his camera. Once he has it, he leans forward. He nearly drapes himself over you, molding himself to you. He pauses and then clicks his tongue. You hear more movement, but you’re barely conscious at this point.

Something hits the floor. You see his mask hit the floor. He takes a hold of your hair and yanks your head up. His left cheek is pressed against yours. His grin is feral. You can see his dark hair out of the corner of your eyes.

“You know.” He adjusts the camera just-so. “You were my first and only love. Don’t you feel special?”

The camera flashes. He wastes no time in grabbing his knife. You can barely feel it as he slides it across your throat.

“Just thought you might want to know that.”

The world goes dark.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #12: Boom Boom Pow

Words: ca. 3,300 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: sand, alcohol, beanbags, dash of lime, language

“Do you like the stars?”

“Anna it’s fucking noon, the sun is up, it’s bright as shit. Why are you asking about stars?”

“Yo, my dude, chill. The sun is a star… right?”

Elsa rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, blasting 80’s music, but only the good songs. “I don’t know why I agree to come with you on these things.”

At this Anna laughed and danced a bit offbeat to the song that was playing. She didn’t know the lyrics, but the bass line was nice and she could vibe with that. She let the whole song play out before answering.

“Because you loooove me” She sing-songed, earning another eye roll from the driver. “You love me and we’re going to the beach and it’s going to be a good time.”

“If I didn’t love you, would it still be a good time?” Elsa asked, smirking.

As a response, Anna reached over and changed the radio. A loud, bass-heavy rap song overtook the speakers. The signer immediately spitting out questionably appropriate lyrics for the radio. Elsa’s face reddened under her large glasses and she reached to change channels so quickly that she turned it off. Enveloping the small sedan in a brief silence till Anna’s laughter filled the space.

And it went on like this the entire car ride, bits and pieces of random songs rapidly changing. Anna would allow something Elsa liked to play out entirely but when it was her turn she either skipped around or Elsa changed the station for her. The older woman apparently hated both rap and country music. The first part Anna didn’t understand and the latter, she agreed with. She was desperately trying to find a gospel station, just to see her sister’s reaction, but she found nothing but commercials.

Finally, she heard what she was looking for and turned to see Elsa’s reaction just as the other girl reached over and turned the radio off again. Anna was going to protest when she realized they were in a drive-thru.

“What can I get started for you today?” a tired-sounding voice asked over the intercom.

Anna leaned over Elsa to get closer to the open window and thus the speaker box. Making sure to be just close enough to be annoying.

“We would like to get married please, with Elvis if you have him, if not we’ll take what you have.”

“Anna!” Elsa exclaimed, slapping her on the shoulder.

There was an audible sigh come over the loudspeaker, “Ma’am this is a Wendy’s.”

“Oh right, then I’ll take a cheeseburger and a medium Coke, no ice. Thank you!”

“Anything else?” the tired voice asked. “I’ll have the same thing.”

They continued driving towards the beach after the drive-thru. Cupholders full of sodas in flimsy paper cups, and Anna’s lap full of white paper bags of greasy food. She kept sneaking a fry when she thought Elsa wasn’t looking. But it was a small car and Elsa could see every bit of fried potato Anna took.

The closer they got to the beach, the darker the sky became. Tall looming clouds crept over the horizon. They couldn’t see the beach yet as it was the east coast, and most roads took you to the beach straight on instead of winding down cliff faces like the Pacific was famous for. But still, the clouds loomed. Elsa knew there was a storm somewhere off the coast, but it seemed far away last she checked, which wasn’t today. She refused to check the weather today for fear of bad news.

On the main highway, traffic was starting to get heavy, more tourists were headed for their long-awaited vacations and the road ahead was either congested to the point of slowing down. Or there was an accident and everyone had to slow to a crawl to creep a glance at the carnage.

Thankfully the girls weren’t tourists, unthankfully they lived close to this tiny town that became a major city in the summer months. Having to deal with millions of tourists every year meant that locals had a series of short-cuts. So when traffic started building, Elsa took the next exit rather suddenly, cutting across the solid white lines and nearly missing the crash barrier.

“Elsa! Shit! What the fuck!” Anna yelled and shot out her hands with nearly inhuman speed to catch the drinks before they spilled out of their too-small cupholders. “There’s a backup, I’m not sitting in that,” Elsa replied, taking the next turn so hard that the car nearly tilted on two wheels.

“But I saw flashing lights, it could have been a firetruck!”

“It could have been a police car…”

“But Elsa you don’t understand, the hot firemen! …and women.”

“Anna I’m not sitting in traffic for 30 minutes or even longer, just for you to ogle at people in uniform.”

Anna took another fry, “Not people in uniform, F-I-R-E-M-E-N and women. It is very different.”

Elsa let out a heavy sigh as they came to a stop at a red light. “If I buy you that stupid Australian calendar will you shut up?”

“Wow, harsh.” Anna dramatically threw one braid over her shoulder. “But, yes.”

Again, Elsa rolled her eyes and continued forward when the light changed. It was only a short while later that they left the main road and turned into a small, older housing development. The narrow street lead them all the way to the ocean, coming out on the far end of the main strip. Highrise condos and hotels dotted the skyline to their left, but right in front of them was the beach, concealed behind a short sand dune. Because life is a bitch like that sometimes.

Luckily for them, there was also free parking at this end if you didn’t mind a bit of a walk. Which, for the price of 17 bucks to park next to the beach, who wouldn’t mind the walk. 17 dollars could buy many cheeseburgers, Anna pointed out.

The beach wasn’t nearly as crowded down where they were, away from the boardwalk and the hotels. The sand also happened to be rockier, rough and pitted with long-forgotten footprints and broken shells. The beach groomers didn’t come this far. Which was fine by them, they would take a rough sandy beach with fewer people over a crowded hellscape any day.

There’s nothing more relaxing than simultaneously listening to eight different speakers all playing different music. While children screamed for no reason and the air was filled with a mix of sunscreen and cigarette smoke.

So yes they will miss out on the hot lifeguards and yes there will be fewer people to watch. But you can’t put a price on the quiet and the fresh air that this section of the beach had to offer.

After crossing the highway on foot, climbing the dune, and laying out their towels, only then did they pause to look out on the water. The ocean was angry, white caps dotted the surface as far as they could see. The horizon line was blurred with fog or rain and the dark clouds from before were more ominous than ever. Why the two women didn’t notice all these signs until now was some kind of act of God. Or stupidly. Probably the latter.

The beach itself was even more sparsely populated than normal. A smart person would have gone home after seeing all the warning signs. But this was Anna’s only day off for the next few weeks. And Elsa, well Elsa was too stubborn to admit her beach idea was a bad one.

They both laid down, on separate towels, choosing to ignore the warning signs and attempting to soak up as much sun as possible before it was swallowed by the coming storm. Elsa tried not to think about it too much. Neither was sure how long it had been before they were interpreted.

“What are you two gay ass losers doing?” Came a female voice.

“Ch’yeah it’s like gonna rain bruh.” Said a male’s.

Elsa opened one eye to see her cousin and her boyfriend, or so it fiancé now? Standing over them. The sky beyond them somehow looked even darker than before, which was very rude.

“Trying to enjoy the sunshine, obviously.” She mumbled in response.

“What sun?” their cousin asked, in a weird out of place, and badly performed accent.

“Wait but what is that voice?” Anna asked, sitting up and brushing the sand off her arms. How that girl could get sand everywhere, Elsa would never know.

“It’s like our new characters,” Eugene answered, earning not an eye roll from Rapunzel but a nod of approval.

“I’m New York and he’s Los Angeles. Both strong and independent cities that you could almost say are their own character. And those characters are us.” She added

“Why though?” Elsa was also now sitting up and confused, though nowhere near as sandy because she wasn’t a dirt gremlin-like her sister.

“Because we wanted to be unique characters, otherwise we’re just boring white people and where’s the fun in that?” Eugene or rather Los Angeles answered.

“Oh boring, like you watch Star Trek and try to fit it into everything even though it has no business being there?”

Eugene shot Anna finger guns, “exactly, this one gets it… bruh.”

A boom was heard in the distance and it sent a few people running towards their cars, towels billowing behind them. A long-distance away, over the water, there was a flash and with it, the wind picked up.

“Looks like our beach day is ruined, I’m sorry Anna.” Elsa stood and began to roll up her towel. Even with the limited sun, she was already red on her front, making a stark difference to the pale skin of her back.

“Nah we just getting started, come back to our place and play some ping pong. We just pulled the table out of storage.” Rapunzel aka New York offered. The two of them didn’t live far from the beach, having taken over Rapunzel’s parent’s beach house. It was very old and run down, but the pair was fixing it up in exchange for free rent.

‘Aye New York is right, and we can take my new whip… bruh.” Los Angeles gestured over his shoulder towards the dunes. They couldn’t see it yet because that dang dune was blocking things again. But everyone knew he was referring to his new golf cart.

Reluctantly the girls agreed and a few long minutes later they were rushing inside an old house to avoid the rain that had just started to fall. Their car was left abandoned in the free parking lot.

Inside was an odd mix of old and new. Brand new stainless steel appliances dotted a kitchen with dark wood cabinets and a yellow linoleum floor. A half-torn-down wall gave way to the living room with floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and floral print furniture.

“It ain’t much but it’s home.” Los Angeles said once everyone was inside. He walked beyond the torn-down wall and slapped his hand on the wood paneling. “New York over there hates this stuff, but it’s hella soundproof if you know what I mean.” With this, he wiggled his eyebrows and finally, earned an eye roll from New York.

“How did you know we were on the beach by the way?” Elsa asked as she took a step further into the kitchen to look at the collection of magnets on the fridge.

“Your sister posted about it on her tumblr of all places. Honestly, get an Instagram like the rest of us already.” New York said throwing her hands up dramatically. The drama ran in the family apparently.

The ping pong table was in the basement, a dimly light space with concrete walls and a tiled floor. Mix-matched chairs lined the walls and a mini-fridge sat in the corner next to a shelf full of liquor bottles.

The ping pong game quickly descended into beer pong with a twist. No one had to drink from the cups the ball landed in. Because that’s gross, don’t do that. Inside if someone managed to land the ball in a cup the other team had to take half a shot of vodka. Los Angeles had wanted to do full shots but Elsa and New York talked him out of it, if only for not dying reasons.

Even so after a few games with no true stand-out winner, just a bunch of dumb luck, they were all fairly buzzed. Flushed creeks and slurred speech. Outside the storm finally hit. Rain battered the small basement windows and thunder boomed overhead.

With each thunderclap, Elsa reached for Anna’s hand and wouldn’t let go till the other girl gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Finally, everyone seemed to have enough of the game and collapsed into bean bag bars that Anna and Elsa had both not noticed before. Elsa scooted her bean bag closer to Anna’s, the other two people didn’t seem to notice. New York was hanging all over Los Angeles. Her fingers tracing the curve of his jawline down, her eyes practically boring holes into his face. He acted like he didn’t see, but it was obvious he knew.

“You guys can stay here for the night if you want since the storm sounds so bad,” Eugene said, dropping his horrible accent.

“That’s very kind, but it’s just a little rain, we’ll be alright,” Anna replied, completely forgetting their car was many blocks away.

New York stopped messing with her man and turned to them. “Anna, it’s more than a little rain. It’s a hurricane, I mean it was a tropical storm and it was supposed to miss us. But you know how it be sometimes.” She said with amazing clarity for a drunkard.

Elsa’s hand shot to Anna’s and she let out an audible gasp. She had refused to check the weather before heading out the door today, figuring what she didn’t know, can’t hurt her. Which was stupid and out of character for someone who claims to be responsible.

Another boom followed by a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room for a brief second. Elsa looked terrified so Anna took it upon herself to change the subject.

“So we will be seeing you in two weeks right?”

Rapunzel playing New York smiled and clapped her hands together, “Yes! At the church!”

“For things better left unspoken,” Eugene playing Los Angeles groaned, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Another boom and the room was suddenly cast in darkness and accompanied by an eerie quiet. You never notice how much sound your electronics make till everything is off. Elsa grabbed Anna’s entire arm, holding it so tightly Anna was worried she would lose it.

“Ah fuck the power is out. We have some candles upstairs, I’ll be right back, Rapunzel can you see if the camping lantern is over on the shelf?”

“Um excuse me, it’s New York, but yes I will look.”

Two bodies moved away in the darkness, their paths illuminated by the small light on their phones. Next to Anna, Elsa’s breathing became rapid and she clung to Anna as if she was in danger of being blown away.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Anna whispered, using her free hand to pet the top of Elsa’s head. The older girl shifted so in one fluid motion she was off her beanbag and on Anna’s before curling into the young girl’s side.

“I found it!” Rapunzel slash New York exclaimed. She turned it on and the room was partly lit up. She walked back to where the other two women were cuddled together and sat back down in her own beanbag.

“Wow, that’s like hella gay.” She said, pointing to the pair.

“Oh shut up, she just doesn’t like storms, you know that.” Anna quipped

Elsa let go of Anna’s arm long enough to extend a hand and flip off her cousin, earning her a laugh in response.

Eugene returned shortly after with the candles, a tray of food, and some cards. “Anyone up for a game of hurricane poker? It’s like regular poker only there’s a hurricane.”

He rejoined the group, placing the tray in the middle of everyone and paying no mind to the two women who now shared a beanbag.

Elsa lifted her head to look, the tray was adorned with a random assortment of food. Celery sticks, M&M’s, KitKat bars, Cheetos, Grapes, and some animal crackers. She made a face.

“What’s wrong uh bruh?” Eugene asked in a bad attempt to get back in character. Los Angeles would never quite be the character that New York was.

“I’ll only eat celery sticks if you pay me,” Elsa responded.

The next few hours consisted of Eugene completely wiping the floor with everyone. They played for the M&M’s, of which he now owned all of. With the power still out and the storm still raging on the decision was made for the sisters to spend the night over.

Their room was completely unrenovated, the same wood paneling from the living room made up the walls and the carpet was a thick green shag rug. Eugene was right about one thing though, the paneling sure did dampen the sound. Once the door was shut the two women could hardly hear anything, which was good because Rapunzel had started blasting Mandy Moore music for some reason.

There was only one bed, pushed into the corner, but it didn’t matter anyway. There could have been 80 beds and they still would have shared just one.

Anna laid down on her back and traced the grains in the wooden wall. “Really makes you want to carve something in this stuff you know? Something that would be around for hundreds of years.”

“Please don’t vandalize our cousin’s house,” Elsa said before sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned the lantern off so the only source of the light in the room was the candle on the nightstand.

“You alright?” Anna asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Yeah, I’m just worried about the storm, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Anna reached out and gently grabbed Elsa’s arm, guiding her back to lay in the bed next to her. “Do you want to sleep or keep your mind off things?”

Elsa paused for a brief moment before removing her arm from Anna’s grip. “I don’t know…”

“It’s your choice, either way, I’m here for you.” Anna smiled at her, a flash of lightning lit up the room but no thunder.

It startled Elsa but she remained where she was, staring at Anna. Thinking, always thinking.

“It’s just a storm and this old house seems to be built like a tank anyway.” She made a fist and pounded the wall to prove her point.

Elsa started twirling the end of one of Anna’s braids but her eyes remained locked on Anna’s. The delayed thunderclap came and Elsa inhaled sharply. Anna leaned over and kissed the top of her forehead.

“You sure this is okay?” Elsa asked and Anna nodded, running the back of her hand down the other girl’s cheek. “Let’s get our mind off of things then.”

Elsa crawled till she was straddling Anna who gazed up at her with eyes that shown like stars in the candlelight.

“What’s your favorite constellation?”

“Hmm, probably Orion, because you can find his belt so easy,” Anna answered, “Yours?” “Your eyes”

“Ew, that’s so fucking cheesy.”

Elsa leaned down, her mouth slightly agape. Anna’s eyes fluttered shut as her hands found their way to the other woman’s shoulders.

The storm, the damage, their car, all these things could wait until tomorrow. Tonight they were out of their control so for tonight they didn’t matter.

Elsa blew out the candle, and they both plunged into the sinful escape of the darkness.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (17) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: hey angels! thank u for ur patience, here is yet another chapter of the hellscape that is n19f. as i said on my blog, u will either love this chapter or hate it. either way let me know what u think!! this is a big chunky one at 13k (ik i’m treating u during this quarantine) so grab ur snacks and settle in. lots of love, byeee!

trigger warning: a little light drinking xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet celebrated her birthday by helping Nina win back Monet, a surprise party organised by her girlfriend, and a suspiciously civil Brooke and Vanjie.

this chapter: from one birthday to another, the gang heads out to the country to celebrate Brooke and Akeria’s 22nd. everyone seems back on good terms, but will the combination of hide and seek, truth or dare, a hot tub and of course a lil bit of alcohol change anything?

***

“Holiday!...da-da-da-dum-dum-daaa, Celebrate!”

Brooke rolled her eyes, unable to help herself laughing as Nina rolled her suitcase towards Monet’s car. “It’s hardly a holiday, is it, girl? Overnighter in an airbnb in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?”

“Listen, I’ll take what I can get, thank you very much,” Nina raised her eyebrows, as Monet lifted the door of the boot up and Nina heaved her case inside.

“Oh, what a compliment,” Monet quipped from beside her, Brooke making a sick noise as Nina slid her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and gave her a squeeze.

“Not with girlfriends, obviously. You’re a Tesco Finest girlfriend. Not a smartprice girlfriend,” Nina explained, Monet smiling proudly and nuzzling their noses together. Brooke already wanted to vomit and she wasn’t even car sick yet.

“Pack it in, bitches, or Monet’s uninvited,” she deadpanned, pushing herself off the wall she was currently leaning against and looking up at her bedroom window, ignoring the girls’ shouts of indignation. “Right, have you got everything, yeah?”

“Have you seen the size of this bitch’s suitcase? I think she has literally managed to pack your kitchen sink,” Monet cocked an eyebrow at Nina, who elbowed her in the ribs. Nina produced her phone from the pocket of her dungaree dress.

“Hey Google, can you divorce your girlfriend?” she asked into the speaker, Monet howling a laugh and shoving her.

“Seriously, guys, I haven’t packed enough anti-sickness tablets for this,” Brooke said dryly, making her way to the passenger door.

“Oh, are you planning on recreating the great rail replacement bus fiasco of ‘18?” came a voice, Brooke turning round and narrowing her eyes at her smug flatmate, emerging through the door with her girlfriend and a small holdall bag.

“I was sat hungover opposite the toilet on a three hour coach journey, what the hell else was I expected to do?” Brooke defended herself. Yvie sat down on the wall outside their building, Scarlet joining her.

“Hmm, all I’ll say, Monet, is that I hope you have at least three empty plastic bags in the back seat with her,” she advised smugly, Brooke wishing she was still leaning against the wall so she could shove her off it.

“When is Plastique coming for you guys? Can I arrange for you to be sitting in the middle of the road when she drives up it?”

“Hey, what the fuck did I say?!” Scarlet yelped, outraged.

“You’re a bystander, Scarlet, and a bystander is worse than a bully,” Nina remarked sagely, Monet nodding along in support.

“Besides, I’m allowed to bully Brooke. It’s part of the lease,” Yvie shrugged, fixing the huge round sunglasses that had been on the top of her head and positioning them so they were right at the bridge of her nose. The March sunshine was welcome; it made Brooke feel happy, optimistic of things to come. Even the small scrub of grass out the front of their stairwell had bright purple, yellow and white bulbs poking through it, bringing a defiant sense of beauty to their surroundings. Brooke had been so pleased with the weather when she’d opened her curtains that morning that she’d packed a bunch of clothes she usually reserved for the summer. It felt odd wearing her denim skirt without the black tights she’d clad herself in for the past three months, but it was a welcome feeling. Yvie hadn’t really seemed to get the Summery memo other than her sunglasses- a huge knitted jumper covered in holes hung off her skinny frame and a pair of thick exercise leggings kept her legs warm.

“You couldn’t spruce yourself up a bit for my birthday, bitch? I feel like any minute now you’re going to start dancing around the street moulting straw singing about how you desperately want a brain,” Brooke smirked, Yvie simpering a fake smile and giving her the finger in response.

“It’s only fifteen degrees, Brooke, it’s hardly time to crack out the Kopparberg and blast T Shirt Weather yet,” Scarlet laughed. It was a bit hypocritical, Brooke thought as she looked Scarlet’s outfit up and down- a floaty, lacey dress and a pair of white Adidas- but of course she would defend her girlfriend. It wasn’t actually fair, contemplated Brooke. Scarlet and Yvie would always team up, so would Monet and Nina. Brooke had to fight all her battles herself.

“Besides, your birthday is over! Move on, hoe,” Yvie smiled, running forward and shaking Brooke’s shoulders relentlessly as the other girls laughed uproariously in the background.  Brooke laughed and batted her away, knowing she was just joking. As she shoved her friend off of her, a familiar grey Audi drove up their street and pulled in behind Monet’s car. Plastique gave her horn a little beep, waving and rolling down her window.

“Let’s ride, bitches! I’m so ready for this weekend,” she squealed, as Yvie and Scarlet rushed to shove their bags in the boot of her car.

“I think I’ve been ready since we booked it,” Nina sighed, stretching. “Right, let’s go, girls! Dun-duun-da-na-na-dun dun.”

As Nina continued singing Shania Twain and hopped in the passenger seat of Monet’s car, Brooke passed by Plastique’s window and gave her hand a squeeze. “You know how to get there, yeah?”

“Up the motorway then off at junction 4 and then just follow all the signs for the B road. We good,” she nodded, then gave a laugh. “Kiki’ll probably end up in France somehow, you know what her sense of direction is like.”

“Yeah, but she’s got Silky and Vanj to direct her. She’ll be fine,” Brooke shrugged, thumping on Plastique’s door and making for the other car. “Right, see you ladies at the airbnb!”

Monet blasted her horn once, twice, three times as Brooke dashed into the back seat and buckled up. As Nina connected her phone to the aux cord and started blasting typically Nina-ish cheesy music, Brooke felt an excited little smile creep up on her face, slapping her hands against her thighs to the beat. The past almost-a-month had gone by quickly, and Brooke and Akeria’s shared birthday trip away had arrived before Brooke had known it. It had been booked on a whim, an excited message from Akeria on the group chat about a potential birthday night out had grown arms and legs until suddenly the girls were all transferring her money for a night in the country to jointly celebrate her and Brooke’s birthdays. They had turned 22 within ten days of each other, and the girls had all decided that the amount of money they would have spent on two big nights out- Ubers, big bottles of vodka for pres, club entry, club drinks and cheesy chips at the end of the night- probably equated to the same, if not more, than the amount they would drop on a boujie house in the country. The house they had booked was huge- five big bedrooms with floor to ceiling windows, a lounge straight out of a murder mystery drama with plush sofas, towering bookshelves and a massive roaring fire, a kitchen with a table big enough to fit them all round and an aga with what seemed to be a thousand burners- though whether anyone would know how to work the damn thing was anyone’s guess, Brooke thought with a snort. The icing on the cake of the whole place, though, was a huge section of outdoor decking with a hot tub set in the middle of it. To most of the girls it would be like living somebody else’s life for the weekend, but, Brooke thought mischievously, to Plastique it would probably seem the same as a weekend at home.

Brooke was glad they could all do something like this, go away together after what had happened. She didn’t really know what had happened to Vanessa to make her warm up to her so unexpectedly. It had all started when they were preparing for Scarlet’s birthday surprise; Brooke remembered how hard her heart had been beating that morning as she’d known it was the first time she’d be properly seeing Vanessa since they broke up, having to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans as the door to the kitchen had opened and Vanessa, Akeria and Silky had walked in. Akeria and Silky, to their credit, had been fine and normal with Brooke, despite the amount of dragging through the mud they had probably done to her name when they’d heard the news of her and Vanessa’s breakup. Vanessa, (understandably, thought Brooke) had hugged Yvie, Plastique and Nina, but not Brooke, the obviousness of the action lost in the frenetic melee of the girls seeing each other all at once. Brooke had preferred that, though. She wouldn’t have wanted the awkwardness of reminding herself how perfectly her arms seemed to fit around Vanessa, the brief scent of the Aussie shampoo she used in her hair, her head against her chest even for just the tiniest second.

After that, Vanessa had started with the digs. Brooke had thought she’d had malicious intent at first, until she got bored and decided to fire back.

(Yvie’s voice had yelled from the hallway. “Who’s made the cupcakes yet? Anyone?”

“Well if it’s Brooke, we all dyin’ tonight.”

“At least I can make something! How much do you drop on Deliveroo in a month, like, half your student loan?”)

With each verbal sparring match, Brooke had watched as the small, sardonic snorts Vanessa had given evolved into a full-blown beaming smile, the kind she always used to shoot Brooke’s way with the perfect white teeth and the tiny dimple and the little blush that hit her cheeks. It was almost painful knowing that Brooke had given up that smile. And that had been the moment. The moment that Brooke had finally admitted to herself what she’d been wanting to deny all this time- she deeply wished she hadn’t ended things with Vanessa, that she’d fought through the ick and given it at least more of a shot than she had. Now Vanessa had moved on and she was seeing someone else and she was happy. Happy without Brooke. Why had Brooke broken up with her so quickly?

She was an idiot.

“She was an idiot.”

Brooke snapped out of her trance, blinking and trying to figure out how Monet had managed to get inside her head. “What?”

“That woman. Blue car. Completely cut me off,” Monet rolled her eyes, frowning as she inched forward in the traffic until she was almost bumper to bumper with the car in question.

“Oh M'net, don’t start a fight,” Nina sighed, resting her knees against the glovebox.

“I’m not! I’m just letting a bitch know that her misconduct was noted,” Monet growled.

“Her misconduct was noted? God, you’re such a teacher,” Nina laughed, a big chuckle with loads of heart that made Brooke smile.

“Hey, so are you!”

“Stop fucking bickering or I will take your vocal cords and strangle you with them!” Brooke cried, tiring quickly. She watched Monet smirk in the rear view mirror.

“It’s alright, Neens. Just because Brooke’s jealous of happy couples and regrets breaking it off with Vanjie-”

“Wait what? I don’t…oh, Nina, for fuck’s sake! I told you not to tell anyone!” Brooke snapped, training accusatory eyes on her friend. After Scarlet’s birthday, she’d told Nina what she’d told Yvie, just in a little more detail, and she’d been more sympathetic than her other flatmate, making her tea and nodding understandingly as Brooke vented at her. Nina was usually good with secrets, a reliable and trustworthy friend. Brooke couldn’t understand why she would-

“Ahahaha!!! BITCH! You just totally exposed yourself! Oh my God!!” Monet screeched in time with her tyres, thumping her hand against the steering wheel. Brooke was confused, her heart still thudding. “Nina ain’t told me shit but I got eyes and ears, an’ I saw you two flirting at Scarlet’s. All damn day and night. You don’t act like that with someone you just broke up with.”  

“Yeah I’m afraid you just spilled your own secret, Brooke,” Nina deadpanned from the passenger seat, giving a little laugh.

“Shit,” Brooke sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Great. Well, you probably think I’m a total asshole, Monet.”

“Hey, I’m a very chill person! You do you, girl. You wanna get with Vanessa for 3 months, break up with her for one and then get back with her again, that’s no business of mine,” Monet shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, I know I made a mistake, thanks,” Brooke sighed, biting her lip as she let her thoughts wash over her. Monet had a unique angle on the whole situation. She lived with Monique, of course, and that whole thing was still going on between her and Vanessa, if a message Vanessa had accidentally sent to the group chat last week was anything to go by. Brooke had wondered for days on end whether it had actually been an accident or not, the content of the message sending her crazy with jealousy as it was essentially just Vanessa begging Monique to come round and fuck her into the mattress. She’d considered whether or not it could have been deliberate, but the absolute roasting Vanessa had received afterwards from the other girls couldn’t have been worth it if it had. Brooke considered asking Monet for some inside knowledge, decided against it, and then did a U-turn as she concluded that her pride and dignity were already bruised so she might as well go the whole hog and shatter them.

“So, uh…Vanessa’s still seeing Monique.”

Monet ran her tongue over her teeth. “She’s certainly round at the flat a lot.”

“So is that, uh…I mean, do you think that’s going to turn into anything more, or…?”

“I don’t know, girl, I don’t know if it’s my place to say.”

This is like pulling teeth. “Do you think they-”

“They’re having a lot of sex.”

“Monet!” Nina burst out in a shocked laugh.

“What?! They are!”

“Excellent!” Brooke exclaimed sarcastically, staring out the window as the city around them turned into fields and the houses turned into service stations.

“C’mon, Brooke, you have to admit you do kinda deserve this a lil’ bit,” Monet laughed, Brooke rolling her eyes from the back seat.

“Right, both of you shut up. I’m officially banning any conversations about pining or relationships until we get to the house. We sing, we eat snacks, occasionally we play I Spy. That’s it,” Nina scolded them, turning around in her seat and staring Brooke down. Brooke had never felt more like a disgraced teenager in her life.

“Ughhhh, fine, Mom,” Monet groaned, changing up into fifth as they hit the motorway, the weekend becoming more real and making Brooke tingle with excitement despite the news she hadn’t wanted to hear.

Just as Nina had ordered them, the three girls spent the rest of the journey singing at the top of their lungs to Vengaboys, B*Witched and Cascada, Brooke on crisp duty as she passed the cavernous bag of barbecue rib McCoys forward every five minutes or so, Monet making hurried grabs at crinkle cut crisps in between changing gears. Brooke managed to avoid the dreaded travel-sickness that had plagued her since she was about six years old, much to Monet and Nina’s delight. The sun didn’t let up, and it still hung proudly in the sky as the girls pulled up the leafy, tree-lined driveway to the house they’d booked, the branches hanging low and curling around each other signalling they hadn’t been cut in a while. Spying Akeria’s Corsa and Plastique’s Audi already parked, Monet pulled up alongside the huge white house, the little set of three stone chimneys on the roof puffing out smoke and letting the girls know that at least one room wouldn’t be too cold inside. As Monet neatened up her parking, the sound of Silky’s screeching cut through the crunching of wheels against gravel, and the rest of the girls spilled out of the front door shortly afterwards. As soon as the car had stopped, Brooke excitedly hopped out of the passenger seat, hugging any girl she could reach. Before she knew it, she’d found herself pulling out of a quick hug with Vanessa, and the two were in front of each other.

“Hey,” Brooke decided quickly to speak first, setting the tone so there wouldn’t be any awkward pauses.

“Hey! How was your ride? Get here okay?” Vanessa asked politely, tucking a strand of her caramel hair behind one ear. She was dressed in a tiny little cropped black jumper and some faded grey jeans, Brooke trying to ignore her mind reminding her of how right it felt to wrap her arms around Vanessa again, how tiny her waist was and how much she wished she could go back for another hug- for fuck’s sake, cut that shit out.

“Uh, yeah! It was fine. Traffic wasn’t too bad. How about you?”

Vanessa let out a laugh. “Shit was like Wacky Races. Akeria nearly rammed some old cunt off the road. I’ve never seen road rage like it, we genuinely feared for our lives. Or her license. Oh my God, this house is insane. C’mon, you need to see it!”

There was a split-second where Brooke felt Vanessa tug at her hand, which was quickly dropped as if the action had never happened. It was almost as if Vanessa had been on automatic pilot; the ease with which she used to slip her hand into Brooke’s hadn’t been forgotten by either of them. And then Brooke felt Plastique leap onto her back like a monkey, and the girl was excitedly chattering away to her, and the moment had passed.

Brooke barely had time to take in the huge cream-painted hall with the varnished cream stairs stretching practically up to the ceiling when Plastique steered her down two steps and into the kitchen, grey stone tiles making Brooke’s feet feel cold even through her trainers and the huge wooden table overflowing with assorted snacks. Akeria and Scarlet clung to the rail of the AGA, the two girls clearly feeling the cold in the chilly kitchen.

“Did any of us actually bring a meal between us or are we just going to live off of Twirl Bites and Classic Dip Selections?” Yvie wondered, picking up a four-pack of various dips. Brooke laughed.

“Hey, there’s pizzas in the fridge! Do y’all really think I would let you starve?” Silky piped up, opening the huge fridge to reveal at least ten pizzas, more than they would eat in one night.

“Nobody goes hungry in the presence of Silky Nutmeg Ganache,” Plastique smiled proudly, holding her fist out for Silky to punch. As the girls’ fists connected, Brooke watched as Vanessa scraped a wooden chair out against the stone floor.

“You girls wanna have a munch and then get wrecked?”

“Hmm, if we get drunk too early then there’s no way we’ll be able to work this oven,” Scarlet shrugged, biting her lip and frowning.

“Yeah, we’re gonna struggle to operate this sober,” Monet considered, opening up one of the oven doors and investigating.

“Well how about we snack and then play a game? I wanna play hide and seek in here,” Nina bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. Akeria snorted.

“Hide and seek, you’re such a child. But to be fair, that could be fun. Or sardines.”

“What’s that?” asked Brooke. “I don’t know if we had that but called it something else.”

“That one where one person hides and everyone else seeks,” Yvie explained. “It’s way better. Way more chaotic.”

“Sweet. I’m down,” Brooke shrugged. She was glad that all of the girls she was friends with were happy to dick about and play kids’ games for an afternoon, and it was the kind of thing she’d miss when she graduated and would have to find a job.

The girls were all feeling peckish after their long drive, though, so they all grabbed the nearest snacks they could and headed upstairs to the living room, where Akeria had managed to start the fire which was crackling warmly in the huge marble fireplace. They all dumped their food on the huge glass-topped coffee table and had a little explore around the house before they relaxed. There was a surplus of bedrooms, and it had been agreed that since they were celebrating Brooke and Akeria’s birthdays, the two girls should have a bedroom to themselves each. Brooke’s bedroom had a huge bay window out to the rear of the house where the fields stretched for miles, and an actual four-poster bed.

“I can’t help but feel like you guys should take this room and I should take yours,” Brooke said with a pang of guilt for Yvie and Scarlet, who had dumped their things in the room they were sharing and had come to investigate Brooke’s.

Scarlet made a noise of discouragement. “No, it’s fine! This’ll get cold anyway, it’s so big. Our room’s cosier.”

Brooke watched Scarlet share a smile with her girlfriend and wrap both of her arms around Yvie’s. “Yeah, honestly, Brooke, it’s fine. Scarlet would manage to bump her head and toe and Christ knows what else on all four of the posts anyway.”

Scarlet burst out into offended laughter, letting the girls know that she secretly agreed a little bit.

“How’re the others?” Brooke asked, peering down the little corridor with the exposed wooden beams and hearing chatter and Monet’s deep laughter coming from the other rooms.

“Plastique, Silk and Vanj are all in together. I think V drew the short straw so she’s on the sofa bed,” Scarlet gave a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate,” Yvie commented, raising her eyebrows at Brooke slightly.

“Behave,” Brooke smacked her, not appreciating the implication. Vanessa had only just become friends with her again. They were hardly going to spend the entire night going at it like rabbits just because Vanessa wasn’t looking at her like she wanted to kill her anymore. “Come on, lovebirds. I feel like I haven’t shovelled enough crisps down my throat today.”

The three girls made their way to the living room again, where Nina and Monet were draped over the sofa and snacking on some sort of jelly sweets. Gradually the other girls joined them in drips and drabs and they spent the time chatting and gossiping in their usual way- about anything and everything under the sun. Brooke kept finding her eyes being drawn to Vanessa. It wasn’t entirely her fault- she was sitting opposite her, and often Brooke would find her already looking her way. Although that could have just been Brooke’s imagination. God, she didn’t even know anymore.  

“Right!” Nina cried, as everyone looked dangerously close to slipping into a snack-induced coma. “Sardines time!”

“Kiki should hide first, it’s her birthday!” Silky argued immediately, Brooke only the tiniest bit affronted.

“Hey, hey, it’s Brooke’s birthday too. Also, I feel like y’all are way more enthusiastic than me about this, so I really don’t mind.”

“Brooke hides first!” Nina shouted unnecessarily. Brooke stood up from the sofa and rolled her eyes.

“Wait, so everyone is after me? Christ. This is like that nightmare I had about being on Hunted.”

“Good luck tryna squeeze that Jolly Green Giant-ass body into any of these cupboards, bitch!” Vanessa yelled across the room to uproarious laughter, Brooke turning round in time to see Vanessa stick her tongue out at her.

“Oh, like you can talk! Are you not the same size as an actual Subway sandwich?” Brooke bit back, sticking her tongue out right back and feeling an excited fizz in her stomach as she caught Vanessa blushing slightly as she laughed. As the other girls joined in with the mocking and all piled on each other, Brooke spotted two girls who weren’t laughing- Akeria and Silky were looking at each other knowingly, a look that seemed to convey disapproval. What the hell was their problem? If Vanessa was fine with her, then that meant there was no reason for the two of them to hold a grudge either, right?

Brooke frowned, trying not to read too much into it. She turned around and headed out the door. “Okay, count to 100 then, bitches!”

As she heard the others all start chanting descending numbers like a terrifying cult of mathematicians, Brooke began dashing around the house for a place to hide. She ran past the bedrooms, assuming that the others would check there straight away. Brooke considered going behind the porch door, but then thought that might end up being too obvious. She found herself in the kitchen, and to her delight she noticed a huge wooden door set into the wall that had to be a cupboard. Opening it, she saw what looked to be a pantry- shelves and shelves with only a couple of tins left by other guests at the house. It was good, but Brooke didn’t think it was a particularly great place to hide until she spotted another door at the very end of the pantry- slightly smaller with a little circular handle. As Brooke turned it, she was confronted with a tiny dark room, with only the blinking lights of the boiler that sat inside to illuminate it.

Perfect.

As Brooke hopped in, she could hear the blood roaring in her ears and her heart thumping. She wanted to giggle. This was exactly how it had felt to play hide and seek when she was little, and she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old still feeling the same way. Hell, she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old playing hide and seek. Gradually, she began to hear the sound of footsteps thundering above her, the old ceiling creaking and letting Brooke know the girls were on their way. Then, it all went silent for a while. Brooke breathed out heavily. Just then, she heard the door to the pantry open and one set of footsteps shuffle through it. They dashed to the end of the room and then seemed to be satisfied that there was nothing more to investigate- until Brooke heard them do what seemed to be a double-take. Keeping her breathing silent, Brooke stood frozen to the spot as she saw the door gradually open with a long, murder-mystery style creaaak…

Shit.

Vanessa stood at the doorframe to the cupboard, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I’ve been tellin’ Yvie I’m the best at hide and seek, but she ain’t believe me. What’d that take me, two minutes?”

“Yeah, good job, Poirot,” Brooke smirked, although it was hiding a multitude of nerves. Her and Vanessa, stuck in a tight, dark space together until the other girls found them. This was fine. This would be fine. “Right come on then, girl, you need to get in.”

“Fuck no, I ain’t goin’ in there! That’s a straight-up spiders’ nest, fuck that.”

“Just get in!” Brooke grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist and dragged her inside, closing the door behind them. It was entirely dark except for the small strip of light where the door met the doorframe, which illuminated Vanessa’s hair and collarbones. There was a small beat of silence in which Brooke’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again, and when her vision had settled she could see Vanessa smiling at her cheekily. “What?”

“There’s a spider in your hair.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “No there’s not.”

“There is! A big one. It’s some Harry Potter type shit, I swear.”

“Shut up, Vanessa, I’m not falling for that shit,” Brooke snorted a laugh, squashing the unease that began to creep up on her.

“It’s got, like, a billion eyes.”

“Has it.”

“An’ forty legs,” Vanessa bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck kind of biology classes did you go to? A spider with forty leg- JESUS!” Brooke all at once cut herself off, feeling a movement at her shoulder, her hair flicking against her neck slightly. She gave herself such a jolt that it felt like whiplash, and she watched as Vanessa laughed at her brushing wildly against her shoulder. Brooke was confused when her hand connected with another hand. Vanessa’s hand. How the hell she’d managed to reach up there without Brooke’s notice was anyone’s guess, but she’d certainly done what she’d set out to do. Brooke launched herself forward and squeezed a hand at Vanessa’s waist, laughing as the other girl screeched in response. The two girls descended into giggles, Brooke having to fend off Vanessa’s playful swipes as she berated her.

“Shut up, bitch! You’re going to get us caught!” Brooke laughed, grabbing one of Vanessa’s wrists in each hand. Suddenly, both girls paused, the compromising position they were in dawning on both of them. The memory of when she used to pin Vanessa to the bed with both her wrists and kiss her neck shot through Brooke’s mind like a hot iron, unwanted and welcome all at once. In the darkness, she could see Vanessa’s single raised eyebrow.

“You telling me you don’t wanna get caught?” she murmured, her voice low and making the atmosphere charged and thick with something that hadn’t been there before. Brooke squeezed her thighs together. This couldn’t turn into something else. She couldn’t let it.

“Well, that is the whole point of the game,” Brooke said, trying to inject as much level-headedness into her tone as she was able. To her dismay she watched as Vanessa’s eyes took on a dark twinkle.

“Oh, right, uh-huh. The game. Sure,” she smirked, Brooke only able to laugh in response because that way she wasn’t saying anything. This situation was fucked. It was so weird. Vanessa was flirting with her, unprompted. So what did this mean? That she still liked Brooke? That she wanted to be friends and was just playing? What did this mean for her and Monique? They couldn’t be that serious, then, if Vanessa was doing all this? Or maybe they’d fallen out and Vanessa wanted her to be jealous? But what was the point of making somebody jealous who wasn’t here? What if her and Monique were together and Vanessa was cheating? What if-

“AYYYYYY FUCKIN’ HOES! Yes! I’m shit-hot at this game, Jesus!” Silky threw the door open, screeching her head off and sending every thought that Brooke was overthinking into the stratosphere.

“Stop yellin’ bitch, and get in!” Vanessa laughed. As Silky squeezed into the ever-decreasing-in-space cupboard, Brooke felt her throat almost close up as Vanessa shuffled up against her to make more room, tilting her head up, locking eyes with Brooke and sending her a look that she couldn’t decipher before looking away and whispering to Silky.

They were eventually found by the other girls- namely because there was no space at all once Scarlet arrived so Plastique found half of the girls with one toe in the cupboard and the rest of their bodies outside of it. The game carried on, but Brooke’s head wasn’t properly in it. She would deliberately put in the bare minimum effort when she was looking for the girls because, really, she wouldn’t know what to do if she was stuck in another confined space with Vanessa. Why had it turned so weird before? All flirty and edged with something she couldn’t work out. It wasn’t right- Vanessa was meant to be mad at her, meant to hate her and never want to speak to her again and somehow they’d gone from civil, to nearly-friends, to eye-fucking each other in a boiler cupboard in the space of a month?

The encounter was still playing on Brooke’s mind as she got ready for dinner. The girls had all decided that they would “do a Love Island” (in the words of Akeria) and all get glammed up to sit in the living room and play games after they’d eaten. It felt funny to be putting on a dress, heels and fake lashes without the possibility of going out anywhere, but the methodical process of putting on her makeup was a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts in Brooke’s head.

“Ayo,” came an unexpected voice, causing Brooke to flinch a little and drop the lipgloss she’d been applying moments before. Looking behind her in the mirror she saw it was just Yvie and Nina. Usually she’d have been happy to see them, but right now she was doing too much overthinking and couldn’t let on what had happened earlier between her and Vanessa. So Brooke just stuck on her best fake smile as she turned around to face them.

“Hey! You guys look so good,” she complimented them, Nina smiling and Yvie giving a little snort.

“Well I didn’t want to be accused of not making an effort for your birthday again,” she poked her tongue out at Brooke and tugged a little at the beads on the hem of her short gold dress.

“If you trip in those heels I hope you know that’s, like, instant paralysis,” Brooke commented, looking at the spikes of Yvie’s six inch stilettos. When the girl did glam, she did glam, Brooke had to give it to her.

“As if Yvie needs to be any taller than she already is,” Nina laughed playfully.

“Awh, she needs to be tall so she can look down on her smol bean uwu girlfriend,” Brooke teased, Nina continuing to giggle and Yvie giving an amused roll of her eyes.

“What’s up with you anyway, bitch? You’ve been, like, extra bitter around all the couples today. It’s supposed to be your birthday, cheer the fuck up,” Yvie gave her a little nudge with her foot. Brooke frowned. She didn’t think she had been being bitter, but maybe Yvie was right. Fuck, what had she even said today? Brooke hoped that Vanessa hadn’t noticed anything.

“No, that’s not true. I’m fine! Just…” Brooke sighed, the bingo-hall-style tombola spinning rapidly in her head to generate an excuse. “…exams are soon, you know, and I’ve not started revising yet-”

“Oh my God, bitch, they’re in May! This is March! Chill the hell out,” Yvie laughed, pulling Brooke up from her position on the floor by the long mirror in the corner of her room. “Let’s go eat pizza. If Monet and Plastique have worked out how to cook them in that 1920s horror oven.”

As Yvie excitedly strutted out of the room and Brooke made to join her, Nina reached out to squeeze her hand.

“You’re a crap liar, Brooke Lynn Hytes,” she hissed quietly, Brooke rolling her eyes and making to protest when Nina spoke again. “But I won’t push it. I just wish you’d open the fuck up more.”

Brooke felt guilty. “I just don’t…it’s something I don’t want to overthink, Nina. So the best way you can help is helping me stuff myself full of carbs then pouring a 24 pack of San Miguel down my throat.”

Nina nodded understandingly as they reached the top of the stairs, Brooke holding back a snort as she watched Yvie cling to the bannister for dear life as she descended. Nina gave her hand another squeeze, then dropped it. “I can do that. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Brooke shyly looked down at her short, black one-shoulder dress and smoothed it down. “Thanks, babe.”

Nina’s smile suddenly turned scheming. “And so does Vanessa.”

Before Brooke could protest, Nina was bounding down the stairs in her bright white Filas that she’d paired with her blue and white checked dress. It wasn’t as formal as Brooke’s or Yvie’s, but that was the beauty of having a glam night in a big house where it was just them- nobody could judge you for being over or underdressed.

As Brooke followed her flatmates into the kitchen, she was met with the sight of her friends all happy, chatting, and in their best outfits. Annoyed at herself, she found her eyes darting around to find Vanessa. She wanted to know why Nina had said what she’d said, wanted to know if she was just winding her up.

And then her eyes came to rest on the most gorgeous version of Vanessa she’d ever seen, and her anxiety dipped, did a loop, then spiked. They were both in black- some dumb coincidence that the earth had sent her way, no doubt- but Vanessa’s was shiny, a vinyl dress that clung to her as if it was made of latex and painfully highlighted every curve of her body. She’d paired it with red heels, which had straps that snaked their way up her calves and showcased her perfect skin. Her dark hair had been blow-dried out (probably by Akeria, Brooke guessed) and fell in perfect waves down her back and over her shoulders (had she fucking highlighted her collarbones?). Her makeup was, as usual, perfect, a dark shock of eyeshadow and an indecent red on her lips causing Brooke’s heart to race. The worst part, though, about the whole outfit, was the silver zip that ran from the top of the dress to the bottom, right in the middle at the front, and either Vanessa (or someone mucking about with her…probably Silky) had unzipped it just the tiniest amount. For about the hundredth time that month, Brooke cursed herself for breaking things off with Vanessa. It wasn’t just about her looks though, or her body, or how much she missed the sex. Their interaction in the cupboard made Brooke remember how funny Vanessa was, how much of an endearing goofball, how she was just a cheerful person whose only real wish in life was to be properly happy. And Brooke had hurt her, made her the exact opposite of that. Vanessa loved everything and everyone so deeply, was the most open of books, and was so unafraid of feeling. Meanwhile there was Brooke not even able to tell her own flatmates, the two girls that knew her best in the world, about her own feelings.

As she watched Vanessa’s eyes drift from Scarlet and Monet, who she’d been talking to, across the room to rest on her, Brooke felt her heart stop. Not giving a single thing away, Vanessa smiled, gave a little wave, and crossed the room to where Brooke stood.

“Hey!” she began, so confident and self-assured and making Brooke feel more like a trashbag than she already did. “Nice dress.”

“Thanks!” Brooke smiled, uncharacteristically flustered at the tiny compliment. “You look so beaud!”

Fuck. Brooke kicked herself for getting tongue tied, badly hoping Vanessa wouldn’t have noticed. As she watched a confused smile appear on her face, Brooke realised she’d have to explain herself. “I was going to say beautiful, then I changed it to good and they just sort of…mushed together.”

Brooke felt her face grow hot as Vanessa simply raised an eyebrow in a smirk. “I’ll take both. Beautiful and good.”

Just as Brooke was about to defend herself, Silky announced to the girls in her own Silky-esque way that the pizzas were ready, and, giving a cry of delight, Vanessa had dashed across the room and left Brooke forgotten about.

As they all ate, Brooke fought an internal battle. She had absolutely no right to feel sorry for herself, this mess was entirely of her own making. Besides, she had to put everything out of her head now; she had made her decision, Vanessa had moved on, and she had to let the whole thing drop. But despite all this, it didn’t stop her brain constantly pestering her with what-ifs.

It was still pestering her once they’d all finished their dinner and moved upstairs into the huge living room for drinks and games, so she was glad when Nina popped herself down beside her with two ice cold bottles of beer from the fridge.

“One for each hand,” she explained. Brooke burst out laughing. She fucking loved Nina so much.

“Where’s yours?”

“Monet’s making mojitos for me and her. I love having a girlfriend, it’s like a sexy butler that you get to have sex with and cuddle any time you want,” Nina mused wistfully, giving Brooke her second belly-laugh in the space of two minutes. As she composed herself, Monet came into the room with two huge tall glasses overflowing with crushed ice and garnished with lime and mint.

“Where the fuck did you get mint and limes?” Brooke asked, screwing her face up in confusion then scrambling to pull a slightly more attractive one as Vanessa came in flanked by Silky and Akeria.

“I brought them, bitch! Anyway what did I miss?”

“Nina called you a sexy butler,” Brooke said casually, sipping one of her two beers and smiling as she watched Nina grow flustered.

“Jesus Christ, I’m getting all the compliments today! First I was a Tesco Finest girlfriend, now I’m a sexy butler. You know how to treat a lady, Neens,” Monet teased, pulling her girlfriend in and smothering her with kisses on the cheek.

“Ugh, get that couple shit outta here,” Vanessa yelled from the other sofa, throwing a leftover crisp at them. Monet instantly snapped back.

“Uh, like you can talk, Vanj.”

“What the shit hell is that meant to mean?” Vanessa laughed, amused.

Akeria grew outraged as she turned around to face Vanessa, her long, straight hair swinging wildly as she flipped it over her shoulder. “NEED we remind you what you sent to the group chat last week?!”

Silky began yelling, mirroring the cries of woe and dismay that were circling through Brooke’s brain at being reminded that Monique was still very much in the picture. “NO we do NOT need reminded! I can’t go through that again, dear Jesus God…”

“Fuck babygirl, I need that mouth on me-” Akeria began reading dramatically from her screen, the girls cringing and laughing and every word feeling like a kick to Brooke’s gut as Vanessa, face bright red, wrestled with Akeria to get the phone out of her hands. “-I’m touching myself but you know it’s not the same- aw, V! Give it back!”

“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ phone, Akeria Chanel Davenport, I swear,” Vanessa chided her furiously, holding the phone out of her reach then relenting, giving it back to her. Silky fanned herself dramatically, making the others laugh. As Brooke did her best fake laugh and joined in, she tried not to make eye contact with Vanessa’s embarrassed face.

“Aw, are we talking about the unfortunate dirty text incident?” Plastique’s voice came from the hall, everyone laughing again as she sat down in the armchair beside the fire. “Seriously, V, you should be a songwriter. I swear that whole thing could’ve been from a Kamille song or some shit-”

“Well, all sexts are a little bit cringey, aren’t they?” Nina offered kindly, attempting to cheer Vanjie up. In doing this, she only succeeded in earning herself an exasperated cry from Monet.

“V, do you wanna go out? I can’t stand this bitch any more, she just keeps insulting me.”

As everyone howled with laughter and Nina frantically smothered her girlfriend in kisses trying to get her back onside, Brooke sneaked a look at Vanessa. She was laughing, but her face was still a little red. Christ, she looked so cute. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Speaking of sex, I’m assuming Yvie and Scarlet went off to bang?” Plastique shrugged, everyone finally realising who was missing.

“Oh, fuck this! Save that shit for later!” Silky protested, Akeria laughing and whacking her.

“Hey, let them be happy! It’s my birthday so I’m sayin’ if they want to fuck, let ‘em. In the meantime I have an empty wine bottle and a room full of girls with secrets that need spilled,” Akeria announced. Plastique clapped excitedly, Silky cheered and Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“For Christ’s sake, Kiki, do we not already know all there is to know about each other?” she complained. Interesting. So Vanessa didn’t want to play truth or dare, a game she was usually always down for.

“Excuse the fuck outta me, we played that stupid tuna game earlier!”

“Sardines,” Brooke deadpanned, earning herself a laugh from the room.

“It was some type of fish, I got that much right.”

“How are you through a whole bottle of wine already?” Silky asked, impressed.

“Can I live? It’s my birthday! Now will you hoes stop pissing in my cereal and let’s play!” Akeria implored, setting the wine bottle down against the red carpet and spinning it so violently Brooke worried that it would smash on the marble grate. It slowed, turning round and round and finally resting right back at where Akeria leant down from the sofa. She let out a giggle. “Oops. Guess it’s me.”

“Keeks, truth or dare!” Plastique asked excitedly. Akeria tilted her head, deep in thought.

“Hmm. I ain’t drunk enough for dares yet, so let’s go truth.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone racked their brains to think of something. Monet was first with an idea.

“Fuck, marry, kill: Silk, Vanj or…uh…”

“Asia,” Vanessa said simply, sipping some coke and spirit concoction through a straw as Silky let out a screech. Brooke was confused. She met her eyes with Nina’s, who looked equally baffled.

“Wait, who’s Asia?” Nina asked. Akeria, to her credit, looked composed. To be fair, Brooke had hardly ever seen her look anything but.

“She’s a friend from my course. We did a paired project together an’ she came over to the flat to work on it the other week,” Vanessa shrugged. “Her an’ Kiki seemed to hit it off.”

“I don’t have a fuckin’ crush on the girl, Jesus. Don’t make it weird,” Akeria rolled her eyes, blinking slowly. If Brooke squinted she might’ve spotted a flush to Akeria’s face, but perhaps that came from the glow of the fire.

Monet muttered under her breath to Brooke and Nina as the three flatmates bickered away. “Is Akeria gay?”

Brooke blew out a bunch of air. “Fuck, I don’t even know who’s what anymore.”

“She’s never classed herself as straight,” Nina elaborated cautiously. “She talks about getting dicked down by guys a lot. Then again, it’s really only Silky that does that and Keeks just joins in.”

“Silk and Vanj know something we don’t,” Brooke reasoned, watching as the two girls laughed and Akeria sat, poised and smirking at them indulgently as if they were kids.

“Right, enough! ‘Keria, fuck marry kill: Vanjie, Silk or Asia, then,” Monet shrugged, sipping her mojito.

Akeria flipped some hair over her shoulder and tilted her head to the sky thoughtfully. “I honestly can’t decide who I’d rather kill, Silk or Vanj.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna fuck or marry Asia, correct?” Vanessa quipped, a little fire igniting in Brooke’s heart as she watched a wicked smile spread across her scheming face.

“No, I don’t know her well enough to have any strong feelings towards her either way. You and Silk, however…” Akeria raised her eyebrows long-sufferingly, coaxing a laugh out of the other girls. “Uhh, right, marry Asia, or whatever. Kill Silky.”

“Bitch! I’ll kill you for real,” Silky objected, pummeling Akeria’s arm with a cushion.

“Fuck Vanj because she likes girls anyway and if she’s going down on me it means she’s not talking with that fuckin’ gritter-truck voice of hers,” Akeria shrugged as she concluded, the room cheering and Vanessa doing a little celebratory bow. As she flipped her head up she caught Brooke’s eye, giving her a little wink. Brooke crossed her legs and tried not to think about Vanessa going down on anyone. Least of all her.

“Aight!” Akeria said, indicating to everyone that her turn was well and truly over. “We move.”

The bottle was spun once more, Brooke taking a long drink out of her bottle and draining it. She needed to be tipsier than this. Everyone else seemed a little more drunk than she was, apart from Vanessa who she noted was sipping her drink sparingly. Brooke shook her head a little, trying to stop bringing her focus to Vanessa every five minutes. She’d taken her heels off and tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, and her thighs looked good for it.

“Plastique, truth or dare!”

Plastique tucked her hair behind her ears. “Uhh, dare.”

Brooke knew what to do for this one. Plastique had taken Ariel on a couple of dates, but the girls were emotionally stunted and neither of them had properly articulated their feelings to the other yet. “Call Ariel and tell her how you feel about her. Properly.”

As the other girls “oooh"ed in appreciation, Plastique fixed Brooke with an unimpressed glare. "I’m not doing that.”

“Pussy,” Brooke shrugged, sipping her other beer. Vanessa let out a laugh from the other side of the room.

“Brooke Lynn’s telling someone else they’re a pussy for not being open about their feelings? Are we in the correct universe?"

As the other girls gave a laugh that was only the slightest bit uncomfortable, Brooke rolled her eyes. "Okay, well at the very least send her a heartfelt text.”

“Why are you pushing this so much, ma?” Plastique pouted as she relented and reached for her phone.

“Because I’m bored of sitting in lectures hearing you moan about how you can’t tell her how you feel because it would make it weird or how you don’t want to come across too intense!"

"We all had to listen to you pine after Vanjie for two and a half years but we never forced you into admitting anything,” Plastique shrugged, the room erupting into shrieks. Brooke gave a choke of a laugh, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her. She knew her face was bright red without having to look in a mirror and, as much as her brain was imploring her not to, she found her eyes darting quickly to Vanessa to catch a glimpse of her face.

Calm, smiling tight-lipped and smug. As if she’d won something.

“No, but you did start a sweepstake about us so get off the high horse, thanks!” Brooke sing-songed back, the slight hint of irritation to her voice letting Plastique know she was to drop it. Us. The word felt weird in Brooke’s mouth, it hadn’t been used in so long. Two and a half years. Had she really liked Vanessa for that long before everything had happened between them? Brooke had actually thrown away two and a half years of feelings for the sake of one feeling of indecision, a feeling that maybe they shouldn’t have been a they any more?

For Christ’s sake don’t look at Vanessa.

“Fine. I’ve put tonight’s really fun but I miss you, I always miss you when you’re not with me, hope you know how much I care about you. That heartfelt enough for you bitches?” Plastique muttered, embarrassed. Nina let out an “aaw”, Akeria made a sick noise.

“Acceptable,” Brooke shrugged, sipping on her beer again. Suddenly, a cheer went up from Akeria, Vanessa and Silky who could see who was coming through the living room door first. Yvie and Scarlet were walking close, holding a glass of red wine each and wearing matching poker faces.

“Oh, here they are! Nice of you to finally join us!” Nina cheered, Scarlet giving a small smile and smoothing her dress down, sitting beside Yvie on the last remaining couch.

“All the best people are fashionably late!” she shrugged. Yvie gave a snort and swept some hair over her shoulder to cover her neck. Brooke saw the action and jumped on it.

“Nice neckwear.”

Yvie turned only slightly red. “Thanks. Gucci.”

“Hear that? Yvie’s girlfriend is Gucci. Not Tesco Finest. Gucci,” Monet nudged Nina, setting another laugh off amongst the girls.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Brooke explained to the two girls, as Plastique gave the glass bottle a bit of a pathetic spin.

“Vanjie!”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nah that spin was shit, it don’t count.”

“Like hell it don’t! Truth or dare, bitch?” Silky all but interrogated her. Vanessa thought about it for a moment, then decided.

“Truth.”

Brooke’ heart hammered in her chest. She hoped to God they wouldn’t ask Vanessa anything about her, anything about them.

“What’s going on with you and Monique, Vanjie?” Monet asked dramatically, Akeria giving a cry of delight and thumping her hands against her thighs.

Great.

As the room broke out into eager laughter, Vanessa just smiled.

“Well, Monique and I are good friends, and…we get on well. We both been, y'know, unlucky in love a lil’, so…” Vanessa trailed off, the room giving little chokes of anticipation and Brooke’s stomach twisting. “…if it’s one in the morning and one of us is maybe still up…y'know…”

Monet gave a tiny squeal through her teeth. Brooke wanted to wedge herself in between the sofa cushions and not emerge again til May of next year.

“Y'know, Monique’s very confident, very sure of herself, an’ that's…y'know, it’s attractive…” Vanessa trailed off, running her tongue over her teeth. Brooke knew that face, remembered the time when that face used to get directed at her before they’d fall into bed together, frantic kisses planted along collarbones and clothes discarded over the uneven floorboards of Vanessa’s room.

“But what’s actually going on? You’ve said so much but not actually said anything,” Yvie let out an unimpressed laugh. Vanessa composed herself and sat up straight, taking a rare sip of her drink.

“Well, we get on well. She’s a good person. And we’re friends,” Vanessa smiled coyly, causing the girls to laugh uproariously.

“Okay, okay, we all see it! We all get it!” Monet laughed, the knife twisting in Brooke’s stomach. Could it have been more obvious that they were obviously having each other in every type of position imaginable with any chance they got, or was it just Brooke being paranoid? She thought back to what Monet had said in the car earlier and concluded that, occasional hits of the bong aside, she was not being paranoid by any stretch of the imagination.

The game rolled along. Nina was made to do something vague and embarrassing with Monet that Brooke forgot quickly (or perhaps blocked out), Scarlet was forced to admit (rather proudly, Brooke thought) that her and Yvie had quickly fucked upstairs in the time they’d been away, and a few other of the girls did a couple of bland truths. As much as the bottle spun and spun, it never seemed to point Brooke’s way. Brooke was glad. She didn’t want to admit or say anything, and she also didn’t want to do anything remotely risky. However, when the bottle landed on Vanessa a second time, Brooke began to reconsider her thought process.

“Dare,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of danger in her eye flashing quickly as she darted her eyes quickly to Brooke.

Brooke tried not to look at Nina as she spoke. “Vanjie. Kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Plastique whispered quietly. It seemed as if the whole room held its breath. Brooke didn’t know if she was grateful to Nina for the setup or whether she wanted to descend into the earth’s core. She knew Vanessa had answered this question before with this group of girls, she knew that Vanessa thought the answer was her. But that was before everything had changed. Brooke felt her pulse race as Vanessa looked to the ceiling, deep in thought.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to Yvie and Scarlet.

“Yvie,” she began, a small sinking feeling lodging itself in Brooke’s chest. “Can I kiss your girlfriend?”

Yvie smiled at Scarlet proudly, happy for the compliment. “Dare’s a dare. Bring her back.”

“Scarlet, can I get a lil’ smooch?” Vanessa laughed, Scarlet laughing back and motioning for her to sit beside them on the sofa.

“C'mere, friend,” she laughed easily, Vanessa crossing the room and joining them. Brooke remembered when Vanessa had kissed Scarlet before- in the nightclub, before they were together and before Yvie and Scarlet were together. She remembered how it made her feel- a little irritated and sad all in one. Looking back, she realised it was plain and simple jealousy, and she knew her feelings weren’t going to change this time.

Quickly, Vanessa leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her gently but slowly, her hand resting on Scarlet’s hip easily. It could only have been about three seconds long, but each one seemed to tick by agonisingly slowly, and Brooke hoped she wasn’t showing any of her fucked-up emotions on her face. As the two girls pulled away and the others whooped and whistled, Scarlet made a face.

“Bitch, all I tasted there was pepperoni. That was the least sexy kiss I’ve ever had.”

“You loved it, hoe!” Vanessa laughed, retreating back to her seat. Desperate to look at anything but Vanessa’s face, Brooke watched Yvie and Scarlet. Yvie had the satisfied grin of a mafia mob boss as Scarlet whispered something in her ear, then smiled seductively, kissing her once, twice, three times, red lipstick meeting purple.

“Well if I wasn’t bi before, I sure as hell am now,” Plastique fanned herself.

“We are the cornerstone of Plastique’s sexual identity. That’s a fucking compliment!” Scarlet cheered, Yvie laughing and wrapping her arms around her.

“Nah, you and Yvie are my parents. The Mums of the group,” Plastique explained.

“Fuck off, we’re not the Mums!” Yvie laughed, outraged. “Nina and Monet are literally right there!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Nina cried, outraged at the perceived injustice.

“Yeah, don’t lump me in with this dork!” Monet yelled, laughing with the other girls as Nina swatted her on the arm.

“Right! Spin, Vanj,” Yvie ordered, the girl spinning the bottle round obediently. Brooke watched as the top of the bottle whizzed by her once, twice, three times, past Yvie, Scarlet, the Antigua Road girls, slowed down as it reached Plastique, edged past Monet and Nina and then came to rest on Brooke.

“All RIGHT! About time this bitch spilt some tea,” Silky clapped in delight.

“Brooke,” Akeria said with the threat level of an MI5 employee. “Truth or dare?”

Brooke paused. Her go-to was usually a truth, however there was no way she was going for that this time, not while she was still a concrete mixer of feelings for Vanessa and not while there was a room full of people wanting to know exactly what was going on with them. She shrugged. “Dare.”

“Okay-” Akeria tailed off, making to stop and think. A practically evil smile spread across her face as realisation dawned on her. “Same dare. Kiss the hottest person in the room. Ten seconds.”

Silky let out a scream, growing so excitable on the sofa that Vanessa was almost sent through the ceiling. Scarlet whispered something to Yvie on the sofa, both of the girls looking at Brooke intently. Plastique shouted over something to Akeria that Brooke couldn’t hear. All she could focus on was how Vanessa had grabbed Silky and was laughing, but somewhat nervously. Her face had gone bright red. Brooke bit her lip. She thought back to their flirting in the cupboard earlier, how they were almost back to square one again, the weird bid Vanessa had made to make Brooke jealous. She could always kiss Yvie or Nina, take the easy way out. But the more she looked at Vanessa, the more drawn she became to her until before she knew what she was doing, Brooke had stood up from her place on the carpet and taken one, two, three steps to sit on the couch and look Vanessa in the eyes.

Brooke could hear everyone in the room screaming, and she knew Silky had run out of the room shouting incoherently, but all she seemed to hear was her blood roaring in her ears as Vanessa leaned in. Before she knew it, Brooke’s hand was resting on Vanessa’s bare thigh and they were kissing each other, slow and deep and lazy and in a way that Brooke never wanted to end. She felt Vanessa’s tongue licking at hers gently and immediately felt a throb of heat between her legs as she remembered 3ams spent between her sheets and Vanessa’s head buried between her thighs.

Christ, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea-

“ZERO! And y’all can officially cut that shit out,” Brooke suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Vanessa, Akeria’s voice cutting through her hazy thoughts and bringing her back down to earth with a bump.  

“Well, I feel like on that note,” Monet clapped her hands together decisively. “I’m away out to drink in the hot tub. Anyone else?”

One by one the girls agreed, dashing out of the room excitedly, and it was obvious to Brooke that everyone would be talking about what had just happened. Vanessa had run off quickly, her hand in Silky’s as the two dashed upstairs to get their swimwear on. The only girl that was left in the room as Brooke made to do the same was Akeria. She frowned at Brooke as they both left the room, a warning in her eyes which sent a chill down Brooke’s spine. Trying to ignore it, Brooke dashed upstairs, changed into her pink bikini and then ran outside to join the others. They wouldn’t talk about her and Vanessa’s kiss if she was there, so the less time she was away the better. Brooke grabbed a third beer from the fridge on her way out to the garden, and as she stepped outside she noticed how the moon already hung huge and bright in the sky, how the grass already had a shine of cold wet on it, and how everything looked almost a little bit magic. Joining the others and sitting between Yvie and Plastique, she tried to ignore Vanessa sitting opposite her in a black bikini that looked equally sinful as the outfit she’d been wearing before. Luckily the rest of the girls had no further desire to play drinking games, and talk instead turned to movies. Brooke didn’t join in. She couldn’t- too much was swirling around her mind, namely how good the kiss had felt. Scarlet had probably lied to make Yvie laugh- Vanessa had tasted like sugary coke, and the all too familiar scent of her perfume was still inexplicably clinging to Brooke. It had been weird to kiss after months of no contact at all. It had been a bad decision. Brooke had done yet another wrong thing.

So why did it feel somehow correct?

“Right!” Akeria said after a while, almost toppling over as she stood up. “I think I’m gettin’ a touch of the hypothermias. Who’s comin’ inside to watch Sister Act?”

“Bitch! That’s like, my favourite movie. Hell yes,” Monet sprang up, knocking Nina off her lap and into the middle of the hot tub. The girls erupted in a laugh, Brooke almost dropping her beer into the water. One by one, they all filed out of the water. Brooke was the last one left. Admittedly she didn’t want to leave- she was now tipsy enough to not feel the cold, and she could have lain back and stared at the white light of the full moon in the inky sky forever. Just as she was about to follow the others, she noticed that the second-to-last girl out of the hot tub was Vanessa. Brooke swallowed thickly, trying her best not to stare at how the small droplets of water clung to her thick thighs or how her tiny bikini barely covered her firm ass, or how her slick, wet hair cascaded down her back. Almost as if she could read Brooke’s mind, Vanessa slowly, tortuously turned around. She had a little wicked smile on her face, the kind she always used to wear when she flirted with Brooke. It made Brooke cross her legs and squeeze her thighs together.

“You got a good enough view from there?” she asked, playfulness coating her words as she spread both her arms out to lean against the back of the hot tub.

This was bad. This was not good. Brooke couldn’t flirt back. It would only lead to another really horrendous, catastrophic decision. Her mind was hot-wiring, and to her dismay she couldn’t come up with any form of quick-witted comeback. Noticing how long it was taking her to reply, Vanessa gave a throaty laugh.

“Hmm. I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she purred, crossing the water and sitting down close next to Brooke. Brooke tried her best not to choke as she took a sip from the bottle in her hand.

“Thought you were going to watch Sister Act?” she asked, trying to sound casual but cringing at how nervous she sounded as the words left her mouth. Her blood pressure dialled up a notch as Vanessa laced her fingers together, placed her hands on Brooke’s bare shoulder, then rested her head against her fingers.  

“I don’t know. Think I’d rather see what’s so special about this view you love so much,” Vanessa murmured softly, Brooke not missing the way she rushed out the word ‘love’ as if to distil any awkwardness. She didn’t need to worry, though, because right now all Brooke could focus on was how good Vanessa looked in that black bikini, and how her red lipstick still clung to her plump lips as if it had just been applied, and her beautiful dark gaze from under her fake lashes.

“Hmm. It’s a pretty good view. Pretty beautiful,” Brooke found herself whispering, eliciting a sparkle from Vanessa’s eyes. Fuck. Shit. She shouldn’t have said that, it just seemed to have happened, but with Vanessa sitting pressed up so close to her how else could she have possibly reacted? There was a small silence in which Vanessa gave a small giggle, looking down at the constantly popping bubbles. The jet stream pummeled Brooke’s back to bits.

“What’s funny?” she smiled cautiously. Vanessa looked at her, something nostalgic on her face.

“Your pickup lines are still cringey as fuck,” she smirked, Brooke rolling her eyes a little. She had to steer this conversation back to normality. Whatever the fuck normality was as far as her and Vanessa were concerned.

“That wasn’t a pickup line. If I was trying to pick you up, you’d know about it.”

“Oh, I know about it, baby. Don’ worry,” Vanessa hit back instantly, Brooke taking the pet name like a fatal shot. Brooke knew that Vanessa knew what that word did to her in the right context with the right tone. Fuck. Bad idea, bad idea. She was determined not to lose whatever game this was. She would not do anything stupid. She would not ruin the tiny, small beginnings of this foundation of their friendship that they were gradually re-building. She would stand up and go inside and watch Whoopi fucking Goldberg dance about in a fucking habit and all would be right with the world again.

“Two and a half years, huh? You had it bad, bitch, I never knew I had that kind of effect on you,” Vanessa laughed suddenly, Brooke trying not to blush as she remembered Plastique’s words from earlier.

“Not that you’re letting it go to your head,” Brooke shrugged, taking a sip.

Vanessa giggled again. Brooke wished she wouldn’t. “Never.”

“Good compliment for you, I guess.”

“Better than beaud,” Vanessa smirked, snorting a laugh as Brooke tipped her head back and cringed. As she quietly stopped laughing, Vanessa shrugged lightly. “An’ I mean, nice to know I’m the hottest girl in the room too.”

Brooke let out a small sigh at having to confront her decision. “I mean just because we’re not dating any more doesn’t mean it’s not objectively true. By Western beauty standards you probably are the hottest girl in the room.”

Vanessa laughed again. “Western beauty standards, my God. I’m not even white, you dumb bitch.”

“Yeah, but…you’ve got this gorgeous skin, and all your shiny hair. And your eyes that go all twinkly when you’re happy,” Brooke explained. Where was all this coming from? “And you have perfect white teeth, and the best smile. I feel like you light up the whole room when you laugh.”

Brooke’s heart gave a twinge as Vanessa’s face broke out into a smile, tilting her face to the side a little inquisitively. Brooke gave a little cough, aware of all the compliments she’d given her. “And you have a really good figure as well, so, yeah.”

“Oh, obviously. Well, we all know how much you like that,” Vanessa smirked cheekily, Brooke suddenly snapping her neck round to face her properly.

“What?”

“Liked that. Like, liked. Whatever. We’re friends now, we can laugh about it,” Vanessa shrugged, the words coming out of her mouth confirming their status at once relieving Brooke and putting her on edge. They were back to being friends. This was what Brooke wanted, right? Vanessa still had the little cheeky grin on her face as she spoke again. “Friends who still kiss each other, apparently.”

“Well, you kissed Scarlet,” Brooke said, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. Judging by Vanessa’s smug reaction, she hadn’t succeeded.

“You seem pressed.”

“Not pressed! Just saying,” Brooke tried to protest gently but felt she came on way too heavy.

“Mhm. There’s just one problem about all this, though…” Vanessa murmured, her tone charged with something that immediately made the hairs on Brooke’s arm stand on end, giving her goosebumps.

And then, with one fluid movement, Vanessa moved to straddle her.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Brooke’s heart almost flatlined as Vanessa spoke, her face still wearing the tiniest cocky smile that Brooke so badly wanted to kiss off of her. “It’s kinda hard to try an’ be friends with you when I know what you look like with no clothes on.”

Brooke tried her best to keep her voice level. “Well, it’s also kind of hard to try and be friends with you when you’re flirting with me.”

“It’s also hard to be friends with you when I know what your kinks are…” Vanessa brought her arms around Brooke’s neck and barely concealed a smile as she bucked her hips ever so slightly. “…Mami.”

Brooke felt the tiniest hiss escape her lips, glad it wasn’t the fuck that had immediately popped into her head.

“It’s kind of hard to be friends with you when you’re riding my thigh…or when you’re coming on to me like this,” Brooke replied, keeping one hand firmly on the side of the hot tub and the other wrapped around the glass bottle in her hand so tight she thought it would smash.

“Coming on to you?” Vanessa suddenly tipped her head back and laughed, Brooke immediately realising what she’d said. “That can be arranged, you want face, tongue or fingers?”

“Fuck’s sake, Vanessa,” Brooke laughed softly, letting one of her hands drop down under the water and rest against Vanessa’s thigh. As Brooke’s thumb rubbed at her skin softly, she tried to reason with herself. Just because she was stroking Vanessa’s skin, and had her on top of her, and was basically talking dirty to her, didn’t mean that anything was actually going to happen.

“I know you miss me, Brooke,” Vanessa said, her tone matter-of-fact as she straightened up a little in Brooke’s lap, Brooke eyeing the way her breasts were pushed up.

Brooke had to think carefully about her response. She knew she’d hurt Vanessa, so she had to keep things light. “I mean, it kind of looks like you miss me, baby.”

Oh fuck, that pet name was a mistake. Vanessa’s smile was sultry as she pushed one of her hands into Brooke’s hair. “Me? Nah, I’m just doin’ this because it’s fun. Monique’s treatin’ me very well.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Vanessa knew how to hit Brooke where it hurt. Brooke pursed her lips. She wanted to fight dirty, she would give as good as she got. “And that’s why you’re cheating on her?”

Vanessa burst out laughing. “Oh, bitch, please! Me and her aren’t exclusive! We ain’t even a thing! She vents to me about her ex, I vent to her about you, and then we fuck away our frustrations!”

A part of Brooke’s heart soared up into the black sky like a helium balloon. She didn’t think she’d shown her relief on her face until Vanessa gave a laugh. “So. You ain’t denied it.”

“Denied what?”

“That you miss me,” she shrugged, giving a little look down at Brooke’s hands on her thighs. Brooke couldn’t pinpoint when she’d brought the other one down under the water but apparently she had done. Her throat was dry as she considered her response. Before she could get there, Vanessa threw her mind into chaos as she brought her hands back behind her head, fidgeted for a moment, then suddenly threw her bikini top across the decking. As Brooke’s gaze flicked down to Vanessa’s full breasts, the other girl brought one finger up and tilted her chin up to face her. The heat between Brooke’s legs was unbearable, and she felt her paper-thin resolve rapidly melting away. Vanessa smirked. “You wanna kiss me so bad right now, don’t you? Like you kissed me earlier. You can’t even stay away.“

Vanessa seemed to edge closer to Brooke, although they were already so close that seemed an impossible feat. Brooke raised an eyebrow. “See, I feel like if Monique fucked you as good as you say she does, you wouldn’t be in my lap right now.”

Vanessa blinked slowly, mockingly. “Oh, baby. You don’t want to know the things I let her do to me.”

Brooke bristled. The tension between them and Vanessa’s teasing was getting her riled. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Aww. You jealous, baby?” Vanessa pouted. This was going to drive Brooke insane. Her mind constantly swung between this being a bad idea and a good idea, and she had no idea which it would settle on.

Brooke locked eyes with Vanessa, the other girl’s gaze a challenge. “No.”

“You sure? You seemed jealous when I kissed Scarlet earlier, I saw your face.”

“I don’t get jealous,” Brooke repeated, holding her gaze with Vanessa. Their faces weren’t too close but their bodies were, and Brooke felt as if she was a ticking time bomb.

“So you ain’t jealous of Monique?” Vanessa murmured inquisitively. Brooke shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from her lips which had felt so perfect against her own earlier. “You ain’t jealous of the fact she gets to ride my face and get my pretty lil’ tongue working her clit? You ain’t jealous of the fact that it’s her name I’m crying out when I cum on her fingers? You ain’t-”

Frustrated, tense, and out of willpower, Brooke let out a low growl as she finally brought her hands up to Vanessa’s jaw and crashed their lips together, kissing her wildly and deeply and running her hands over every inch of Vanessa’s skin she was able to touch. She didn’t even care that she’d proven Vanessa right, because she had missed this, missed her, missed the way they just seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and dear sweet fucking Jesus she’d been an idiot to give up this sex. Brooke whined needily as she felt Vanessa pull away, the other girl laughing against her lips.

“You don’t kiss like a girl who ain’t jealous,” Vanessa tutted, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Or one that don’t miss me.”

Brooke ran her hands up and down her back and pouted. “Shut up.”

“Hmm. That ain’t no way to talk to me if you’re planning on getting what you want, lil’ brat,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, bringing one of her hands down to rub at Brooke’s hipbone. Brooke let out a whimper and bucked her hips. She needed Vanessa so badly, and her words were only making things worse. Or better.

“Fuck, please, Vanessa, shit,” Brooke hissed, not caring about how pathetic and needy she looked now as she brought one of her hands up and rubbed a thumb over one of Vanessa’s nipples. Brooke felt her clit throb as Vanessa gave a little hum of delight at the contact. Her fingers had only been there for a second before Vanessa grabbed her wrist and held it down under the water, the sudden force causing Brooke’s eyes to grow wide.

“You broke my fuckin’ heart an’ now you really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?” she barked a laugh, a guilty twinge tugging at Brooke’s rapid heart. “Fuck that. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you. You’re gonna have to work for me, baby. Shit’s on my terms.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, I really don’t give a shit how desperate I sound,” Brooke sighed, the shock of the prospect of Vanessa changing her mind about all this lighting a fire in Brooke. “Please, please, please, please, baby, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want, just fucking touch me, please-”

Brooke cut herself off with her own moan as Vanessa ran a hand down her body and lightly pressed two fingers against her, rubbing gently and making Brooke want to sob.

“Good girl,” Vanessa purred, Brooke writhing underneath her and completely past the point of thinking about any of the consequences of any of this. “You miss me, don’t you?”

“Fuck, so much.”

“You been missin’ this?”

“Shit yes, so much.”

Vanessa’s eyes were dark as Brooke looked up at her. “Nobody’s gonna fuck you like me, are they?”

Brooke’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, thinking that at this point if Vanessa asked her to get married she probably would’ve booked the damn venue. “No, only you, baby, fuck.”

“Mm, such a good girl,” Vanessa smirked, Brooke’s clit giving a spasm as she thought now was really not the time to realise she had a praise kink. “I don’t know, though. You seemed pretty sure you wouldn’t miss me when you ended things.”

“I do miss you, 'Ness, I promise, I’m sorry, I’ll beg on my knees if you want me to, I don’t give a fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night…so fucking perfect, shit…"

"Mm…you would look so pretty on your knees,” Vanessa leaned in and murmured into Brooke’s ear, pressing the lightest little kiss to her neck and almost sending Brooke over the edge before anything had even happened yet.

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby, fuck, I want you to feel like you’re the most gorgeous fucking goddess in the world,” Brooke gasped as Vanessa brought her other hand down to touch herself, the sight of her working Brooke and herself into a frenzy the hottest thing she’d seen in months. Her mind short-circuited, and she struggled to know if anything she said made any sense. “Jesus Christ, Vanessa, please fuck me, I can’t take much more-"

Pride glinted in Vanessa’s eyes before she leaned in and kissed Brooke, hot and wet with her fingers still rubbing and teasing her through the material. Pulling away, she motioned to the decking around the hot tub. “Lie back then, baby.”

As Brooke almost drove her face into the decking in her haste to scramble out of the hot tub she ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her everything about this was a bad idea, and instead focused on the one that screamed it was the best decision she’d made in months.s

[jlf23tumble]

1D Day, Hour One

God only knows what this hellscape will look like on December 18, so if I’m gonna recap each hour of 1D Day, I might as well do it now, eh?? 1D Day is a gift that none of us really deserved, and yeah, it has a ton of shitty moments, but much like X Factor itself, the true gem is Louis Tomlinson and how much he runs this entire show (and lbr, the band itself), Jesus, god, do I love him.

Anyway, 1D Day aired 7 hours of live content on November 23, 2013 to promote Midnight Memories, and yes, yes, we’ve all seen the gifsets, but like anything else with this band, it’s tremendously better in context. I watched this whole thing a couple of years ago, when I first got into this fandom, but I didn’t know all of the dynamics then, so it’s extra fascinating to me now. We’ve all binged worse shit than this that took way longer, and I promise you won’t regret an hour a night for a week--but if you’d rather read my hot take, here you go, under the cut! Note: these are really shitty screengrabs, and for that, I am truly sorry.

A horrible announcer introduces the D by saying they weigh in at a collective 792 pounds, and all I can wonder is does this mean they have daily weigh-ins, why is it that specific? This focus on their weight is just gross to me. C’mon, writers, you’re better than this (j/k, you aren’t).

The three-foot bubble between Louis and Harry is established pretty early on, with Harry doing the prettiest sitting in all the land before bolting to his feet immediately because Louis happened to walk by his couch. A very real question: Was this bubble a requirement that Ben Winston constantly whispers into their headpieces, or did sbb decide, hey, let’s make it obvious that we have to CONSTANTLY adjust where we stand, even if it’s two feet away because that’s not enough room for Jesus?

There are some truly hilarious guest “stars” to announce, the first being the giant video head of David Beckham, which pops up and immediately starts speaking, so we're already off to the races with a) fuckups and b) Louis’s annoyance at said fuckups.

Liam takes a good hard look at his future:

Harry isn’t allowed to gaze at Becks, he’s off by the listening booth, which is a giant red call box because they’re Briddish, pip pip, cheerio. Unrelated, but I low-key feel like Harry's coked up or else really taking the piss with all his “LIVE BANDDDDDDD,” JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!,” etc., not to mention how fast he’s speaking, the way he grinds on the guitarist’s lap while Louis fonds at the sky, and all the yelling with arms aloft.

The best part of the rundown of the guest “stars” (or breast stars, if you’re Niall) is that we’re only in the first 10 minutes, so everyone’s giving it a go, but then we get to Mr. Simon Cowell, and Niall claps five times to stony silence (me as Harry constantly staring at Louis from three feet away):

Piers Morgan comes out to describe the “grilling” he’s going to give them later, all angry—genuinely angry—that they’re trending on twitter because they keep saying that he smells. And they don’t stop, even here, they keep yelling, “What’s that smell? You stink, etc.,” and he’s such a dick that I want to bottle this moment and spritz it around my house daily.

This mild trash talking continues, with Piers promising “tears from Piers,” but Slytherin Niall pulls the fingernail out of his mouth, smiles that sneaky smile, and says, “Yeah, but this isn’t Piers Morgan Day, is it, this is 1D Day,” and I want a transcript because there’s so much talking, but all of it trashes Piers, and god, I love my sons.

Anyway, they keep winding Piers up (Piers: “I’m going to find out what you’re most embarrassed about,” Liam: “The way you smell,” Piers, genuinely in a rage: “Don’t say that”), and he keeps talking about how he’s interviewed heads of state, etc., the implication being that this is below him, but Niall counters that Oprah and Barbara Walters have, too, and they would have much preferred Oprah, to the point where Piers admits they couldn’t afford Oprah (lmaooooooo). 

We move on to Harry, spinning a twitter wheel that means they’ll follow whoever it lands on, which seems like a cute idea. I’m guessing it’s the official twitter handle?? I don’t know or actually care!

Louis can’t read the teleprompter, and he mutters later that it’s because it makes no sense rather than being too hard to actually see, but me as Niall, already yawning at the 25-minute mark (the bubble is preserved, though, whew):

I’m guessing Scott Mills is the “host” of this show because he comes out with a stick (??) and an agenda (Scott’s no Dermot…he has a face for radio, as they used to say back in the day). This whole section just features a lot of Harry and his pinned sleeves staring at Louis, and honestly relatable:

The next task is toilet paper roll stacking, with two judges from the Guinness Book of World Records on hand to see if this band of hyenas can beat the current world record and stack 28 (!!!!) rolls in 30 seconds. Two reasons to love Louis: he interrupts this idiocy to ask, “How did you two get into this, is this a full-time job you do every day?” (I was wondering the exact same thing), and this is his face for this challenge:

Sadly, they fail, and Harry’s the one who has to tell the judges, “Well, sorry for wasting your time!” with a cheery wave from the ladder. Uh oh, though, the bubble, we’re at two feet:

Much better!

This is still too close for Ben Winston’s comfort, so we split up the teams in what feels like a college course with a lot of money to run fake broadcasting drills. Zouis gets to report from the field, with some tweet rapping; the weather guy, sports guy, and lead broadcaster experience some technical difficulties, prompting Harry’s infamous, “SOMETHING’S GONE WRONG,” and we’re off to Poland:

For a production company that seems hell bent on “no homo,” there are lots of things that raise my brows, like this big “handsome” (Harry’s words) he-man who’s going to pull a “boohs” full of 1D fans over a line, so the boys have to guess how long it’s going to take him…by writing all over his mostly nude body (I’m the eye contact that Harry and Louis maintain during this):

Dude pulls the boohs successfully, so yay! Next up is Wrong Direction, the world’s worst lookalikes (HONESTLY, I’m embarrassed for everyone in this segment on Hollywood Blvd: the idiots who are “fooled” by this, the guys themselves and the low-key insult of it all, myself because this went on for way too long):

I’ll spare everyone the individual matchups because yike, but the real Wrong Direction comes to the studio, with all the guys dressed up like their matches, and the real D is polite, albeit mildly “wtf are we supposed to do about this” (me, too, Zayn). Points to Harry for at least trying to strike up some conversation: “Did you have foon, acting like us?” We’re supposed to vote for the best one on Google+ (lolololololol).

Scott takes two girls who look like they’re legit about to pass out into the red call box so they can be the first people to listen to the new album. While they listen to something none of us can hear, we get some VT (that’s “videotape,” god, I hate the whole lingo lesson we got earlier) of Spain and some fans, all of which feels like lengthy filler. I feel for the people Scott mentions as being asleep during this because there is a LOT of fill. Maybe make this shit shorter, just a suggestion!

Next up is Jamie Scott from his home somewhere in the middle of the night; he wrote most of Midnight Memories along with Louis and Liam, and he gives them an 8.5 in terms of how they did on a scale of 1-10 (and that’s AFTER Louis insults his pillows with the alphabet on them, “In case you forget”). There’s a lot of Lilo hand-shaking in celebration, and some enthusiastic clapping from Harry (a little too enthusiastic…I’m gonna imagine that someone tells him to tone it down in his earpiece because he looks around quite a bit):

A few things happen that don’t really interest me: the first listen of “Through the Dark” (this is skipped in the vid), a remote report from Radio Disney (Harry: “HOLLYWOODDDDDD!”) and a fan who wins the chance to come visit them later in the day, and then we’re back to Scott, who looks exhausted, and it’s only been 40 minutes.

All is not lost, because the next VT is the totally unnecessary yet extremely vital coverage of the D’s exercise regime. I’ve seen so many gifsets of hottttt and sweaty Lirry, but you haven’t lived until you’ve heard Niall’s American accent while he stretches: “Welcome to my workout dvd! I’ll be with you for the next 45 minutes to  give you the lowdown of how I stay in shape.” PLEASE @ NIALL, DO THIS.

I really WANT to be Harry and effortlessly pump out pushups, but in reality I’m Zouis, popping some robot dance moves and drinking Red Bull. The weird shorthand throughout this is that Liam is an animal (Ziam + a whip = fire), Harry’s into flirty sexercise, Niall wants an arse like Kim K’s, Zayn’s a slender boxer, and Louis…just fucks around? Missed opp for footie Louis.

The first performance is “Story of My Life,” and we’ve all seen it before, but godDAMN, Zayn sings like an angel. Lots of technical problems in the audio, prompting quite a few Louis/Harry hand gestures, but still, in spite of it all, they sound amazing individually and together.

Even local asshole Piers Morgan is impressed, as he comes out to tell them that they were surprisingly good, along with a bunch of other neg bullshit. This is another one of those segments that it pays to watch the whole clip of, and Jesus, do I want a transcript. They head over to the couches, and Piers points at Louis and says, “You have the most reason to be nervous,” but Louis’s like, “Yeah, but I’m not,” and wow, #goals.

Everyone gets a couch, and the upshot is that Piers is a terrible egoist who thinks he’s a fantastic interviewer, but he really isn’t…all the questions are shit, and these five eat him alive. Everything he asks falls flat, and it’s so masterfully, subversively handled, from Louis’s iconic “define girlfriends” (and the underappreciated attempt by Harry to define it for Piers later: “Like in primary school, if you hold hands with a girl and you're eight, is that a girlfriend?”) to the obsession with smells (Piers asking Niall, “Why do you always smell,” claiming it’s a fan’s question, and Niall answering that it’s because he had colic as a child, so can only fart; Piers asking Zayn, “Who stinks the worst,” and Zayn saying that they all smell quite good, actually) to Piers demanding to see Zayn’s tattoo and relentlessly attacking him for it being a gun (Louis keeps interjecting that it’s a watergun, but go off I guess, paraphrasing).

But the best is always Louis. “What’s the weirdest thing a girl has done to impress you?” “Tweeted Piers Morgan.” Later, he says pointblank to Piers, “You do stink.” But then…but THEN, it’s the Four interview 1.0, only instead of Ben trying to get Louis to deny gay rumors, it’s Piers, who does it twice: “What’s the one rumor you wouldn’t want to hear about yourself?” Louis’s answer: “That I’m not good at football.” “Are you good?” “No….I just wouldn’t want it confirmed.” Piers tries AGAIN: “What’s the worst thing you’ve had to read about yourself?” but Louis turns it around and says he hates reading about one of the other boys being dead (!).

Because he’s the worst, Piers takes it to the ladies and asks how many girlfriends they’ve had and how many times they’ve kissed a girl. Harry says he’s kissed 8 ladies (which prompts a good scoff out of Zayn), and everyone else says 5 or 6, 3 or 4, etc., with Louis declaring he’s only had one proper relationship (no genders mentioned), so maybe 2 (lmaooooo). Piers gets all excited that he’s kissed more girls than this hot boyband has, and I wanna say, you’re almost there, “friend”…keep working it through.

There’s more antics w/r/t Piers, like his poor 2YO daughter crying, and him trying to blame it on Harry Styles not answering her dad’s sex questions or stupid questions about embarrassing things they’ve caught the others doing, and yeah, I don’t think they’ll get into the big ot5 gang bang on live TV, but ask anyway, I guess?

The last person to suffer sitting next to Piers is Liam, and I love him always, but especially for saying, “How’s it going there, stinky?” when Piers takes a seat to ask him why he’s so sexy. Piers tries to “joke” that the sexy question is for him, but nobody says anything, and then he asks Liam AGAIN before admitting that it’s a shitty question, so then he asks about them all wearing tight jeans, and godddddd, why does anyone let him interview anyone?? 

The good news is that Piers can tell he lost, so as he tells them that he thinks they’re pretty okay, actually, but, “You’ve gotta stop calling me stinky,” and you know they never will.

Scott says it might feel like much longer, but it’s only been an hour, and Zayn’s lookalike won, so we can all rest easy. This hour closes with a review of the highlights, and it’s ham-fisted and awful. Shocking!!!!

I can’t do one of these every single day, but I’ll do hour two sometime soon! Hope you enjoyed this, @justlarried, lol!

[spectralmagpie]

Beat the Heat

Sooooooooooo here’s my Troy Calypso/OFC smut trash. not tagging n to the s to the f to the w because Tumblr has been hiding that material but it’s that. So here it is nearly 4k of Calypso goodness.  

She had hoped the blistering heat and the drenching humidity of the cursed weather would give way to cool evening air as the desert-like climate was sometime know to do. However the hellscape had decided to move from blistering to stifling instead; and the rising moon on the edge of the darkening sky brought little solace that the rest of the night would be bearable by any means.

She had meant to leave the Zealots (she doubted they would take kindly to her labeling) and their worshipers earlier in the day, but her runner had overheated two days before and she doubted, despite repairs that the scraped together albeit peppy mess would take kindly to the weather. She wasn’t keen on breaking down in the middle of the desert, so she lingered about, twiddling her thumbs and hoping that none of the rabble would touch her recently acquired Eridium and mods.

The twins had been kind enough to allow her a blessed shower under the chilling water of the in ground piping the cobbled together...fortress? Stronghold? shanty town? She wasn’t even sure what to call the place they had built up from the dusty dry earth of the wasteland. Either was she didn’t have to worry about finding some mucked up, tepid puddle in the desert to wash off in while she was here. Her mouth nearly watered at the memory of the cold water against her warm tawny skin, now that had been a gift from the Gods. The relief had been short lived however, it only took a matter of minutes for the coolness to evaporate from her skin and by the time she had put her clothes back on sweat had already started to clingy and prick at her.

Grumbling she wipes her brow against her forearm and shifted slightly from her sprawled out position on the metal balcony. She winces as she moves, the skin on her stomach velcroing to the metal beneath her with sweat; her discomfort and frustration mounting. She slugs closer to the edge of her vantage point, getting a better look at the grounds below.

A few followers mosey about, why they dared to in the heat she doesn’t know, but then again they were in a cult so they probably weren’t quite right to begin with. She wonders if she had a slingshot if she could pelt them with pebbles with them being none the wiser; ah her youth was calling.

Sighing she dips her arms through the bars of her lofty perch and swung them, the sweat cooling on her heated skin, the air weaving through her fingertips a nice sensation, and for the first time today she feels her weather induced agitation dwindle.

They really had built something quite fantastical, the twins she couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t remember if she had ever told them or not, though she’s fairly certain Troy would have brought it up on the regular if she had. They built this up out of the sand the dirt, a walled testament to their strength and fortitude.

She’d been lucky they had trusted her enough to finally let her come and go as she pleased; though that had taken months...on top of the months it had taken for her to convince them to let her in at all. Having Hyperion stamped on the hull of your transport wasn’t exactly something that screamed trustworthy, she really need to get that thing painted.

She tracks a follower with her fingers, a mock gun with her index and thumb, making a cocking sounds and then a ‘ka-coom’. The man waddles into one of the building none the wiser of her folderol.

“Boom headshot.” she blew the imaginary smoke from her finger.

They had a good thing going, a well oiled machine, and that was rare to come by out here. They gave he access to their neat weapons tech and if she was lucky, Eridium (that took a lot of convincing that she wasn’t a vault hunter) and she brought them in supplies that they wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. The last haul had been some sweet ATLAS tech that she had managed to get her hands on through some of her backdoor dealings; that had scored her some nice Eridium bars and mods as payment.

Honestly being a transporter wasn’t that bad, aside from the occasional run in with bounty hunters and the like, though compared to other outlaws and vault hunters she was a small fish. Still that didn’t stop her from tacking up her first wanted poster over the dashboard of her runner when she saw it posted at some backwater station. Troy had laughed at that, mostly because her bounty was only a few thousand over 10k credits. Still the thrill that ran through her when she saw it the first time.

“Should I get like a spatula or something?”

She turns to look over her shoulder to see Tyreen staring back in her looking rather amused. The Calypso Siren had forgone a good deal of her usual layering, a combination of the heat and a lazy summer night in.

“You might, I feel like a fucking egg.” she whines, propping her chin up in her hand. “Why did you guys insist on building in this place, uugghhh.”

“You seem to spend an awful lot of time here for all the complaining that you do.” Tyreen laughs, placing a hand on her hip and cocking her brow.

She rolls over, propping herself up on her elbows and crinkles her nose at the other woman.

“You guys have some good stuff.”

“I’m sure that’s the only reason.” Tyreen’s eyes are sharp, daring, but mirth lay dancing in the corner of her gaze.

“Ugggghhhh.” She collapses on her back, kicking out her feet, the metal of her heels making an awful grating sound against the metal below her as she squirms.

“Ah yes, I see you are very adult.” the Siren mocks.

She reaches for her goggles that had slipped from her forehead to her neck and pulls them taut, stretching the elastic as she arches her back and continues her mock tantrum.

“I have a Master’s degreeeeeeeeee.” she whines. Tyreen guffaws.

“I can totally tell.”

She continues her little pout and writhe mostly for show and earns a ‘tsk.’

“Don’t roll off the edge Master’s degree.”

She can hear the retreating footsteps of the other woman’s heels and she slowly lays still on the balcony, realizing that her childish display only made her more sweaty and uncomfortable from the exertion.

“Fuck this.” she grits heaving herself up into a sitting position and wildly began ripping at her clothing. The buttons on her vest slipping against her clammy fingers; when that was off, her shirt manages to get caught on her chin and goggles, pulling her hair and not in a good way. She knew her frustration was only making her job more difficult but as each article refused to come off willingly she just fought against it more.

Finally just down to her undergarments she paused briefly, weighing the situation. Honestly, at this point in her life she didn’t care who saw her bare ass and it wasn’t like the followers were allowed in this area of the sanctum. Off came her discolored bra, only she removed it with such zeal it slung-shot from her hands and over the railing. She paused...well someone below will have a nice souvenir.

Finally she pulls down her panties (ugh she hated that word) only to have the band get stuck in the tight metal just below the couplings of her her metal legs...not the first time this had happened, but one would think you would learn after so many years of having prosthetic limbs below the knee. After a moment of fiddling she flusters and tugs, ripping them completely and tossing the ruined material aside.

Great now she had no underwear.

The thought didn’t plague her for long as she almost aggressively rolled over, sprawling along the balcony. A shaky, satisfied groan escaped her lips as the cold metal kissed her bare skin. This was the most comfortable she had felt all day...well aside from the shower.

Sighing she folded her arms and rests her head against them, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of freedom and heat relief. Every so often she’d shift, only slightly, like she did when she was a child on hot night, searching out cool untouched sheets as she lay in bed.

The night was surprisingly still here, despite the number of residences and wildlife outside the walls, and she lay content, enjoying it all. So content that she hadn’t heard the heavy footsteps approaching.

There was a sudden weight on the back of her thighs and then narrow, clothed hips against her ass, she could feel his belt buckle digging into the meat of one of her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the massive metal hand brace itself beside her and she could feel his heat radiating off him...she groaned, she had just escaped some of the stifling temperature and here he was with his big stupid body crowding her in.

His hair tickles her spine before she felt the tip of his nose brushes between her shoulder blades, slowly moving upwards, she could feel the ghost of his lips against her neck; he hums lowly.

She can smell him; dust; like electronics after heavy us; salt and machine oil; she had to admit, at least to her it was a heady smell, and she can’t help but talk a deep breath through her nose.

“Troy.” she turns her head, resting her cheek against her folded arms but doesn’t bother to glance at him.

“Mena.” there a smile in his voice and it’s smug. He leans close nipping at her ear.

Normally she would very much welcome his close proximity, but he was already generating so much heat. At least from what she could tell in her current position he was wearing his usual jacket but still.

“Ugh too hot.” she grunts at him.

“Mmmmm being a flatterer? Why thank you.” he coos in her ear.

“Oh my goooooood.” she can feel her eyes wanting to roll.

“And the compliments keep coming.” he is so smug.

At this her eyes open and she hoists herself up onto her elbows, he gives her some breathing room but not much.

“I’m going to wring that long handsome neck of yours.” she bites back.

“Oooo didn’t know it was that kind of night.” she feels him playfully cant his hips against her backside.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a smug ass?” she ask looking over her shoulder at him.

“Mmmmm most don’t get the chance, aside from Tyreen.” she can feel his flesh and blood hand smooth up the her side; calloused fingertips coming to press against her ribs.“I can leave you to your weird rolling about under the moonlight if you like.”

She grumbles at his teasing but presses her ass back against his pelvis; she could already feel the outline of him through the worn material.

“I could continue my roll around...with company.” she feels him twitch and harden further; with all his bravado, he certainly riled up easily.

The chuckle he makes comes out as more of a breathy sound and he leans in again, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, nose against her skin as he take a deep inhale.

“I can’t smell very good.” she says but tilts her head to the side for him nonetheless.

He growls in the back of his throat and laves a long wet line across her skin; his hand slipping from her ribs to her hip.

She wonders if this position might be a bit difficult for him, he’s all encompassing, all lean, hard lines and ridiculously tall...and she...she’s compact...probably no taller than his sibling maybe even slightly shorter. If someone was to walk passed she doubted they would even notice she was underneath him.

She snorts at the idea of someone thinking that Tory would just be writhing on the ground for no reason other than just to writhe.

The sound obviously caught his attention because, his hand was suddenly pressing against her throat and his lips at her ear.

“Something distracting you?” his voice is low and she has to stop herself from swooning.

“Mmmm just thinking of something funny.” it sounds bratty and she knows it.

His fingers twitch against her throat and a breathy hiccup escapes from her; can’t play coy forever, especially not with him.

“Let’s get your mind off that, and on to something else.” His hips grind down against her ass and her mouth practically waters at the feeling of him; she doesn’t know how he still has his pants on.

She turns her head slightly to nip at his jaw.

“And by on something else you mean your dick.” she enunciates the ‘k’ with a harsh bite against his heated skin.

“So goddamn crass!” he scolds, though out of the corner of her eye she can the amused, feral slant tugging at his lips.

“What can I say, I call it like I see it.” She arches back against him and he curls into her.

Her ears pick up the sound of his metal arm, scraping against the ground beside her and then he growls.

“Enough talk.” She knows he’s in command and she lets the shiver of anticipation run the length of her body, head to...well if one was counting only the fleshy bits, head to knees. But hell he even made her prosthetics feel like they were shivering.

His flesh and blood hand moves from her neck, fingers brush against her flank before she hears him start to fumble with his belt buckle. She can feel it then, cold and unyielding; his metal arm coming in closer and caging her in. Leaning further against the mechanical construct he takes the hint; multi tasking as he brings the overly large fingertips to her lips.

She never hid how much she liked his prosthetics; with prosthetics of her own and a previous, illustrious ...but brief career with Hyperion working with robotics and weaponry it was hard not to like it. Or at the very least admire.

Cool metal pressed against her lips and slowly she pulls one of the long digits into her mouth sighing around it as her tongue presses into it. Troy let out an animalistic snarl; he doesn’t have sensation in the appendage but she knows how much he relishes the sight of her enjoying him.

When she feels him tug his pants down and press himself full against her she moan and bites at the metal in her mouth. His hot puffs of breath fan against the side of her face and neck as he begins to lazily roll his hips against her; she presses back eagerly unashamed of her desire for him.

She told him every so often; not enough to over inflate his ego further than it already was; he was handsome, devilishly so...how ironic he was was being worshiped like a God.

The scrap of his teeth along her jaw, drags her somewhat out of her haze and then his fingers are moving from her mouth until they are flexing around her neck. The hand and attached digits are so large they won’t fit comfortably around her throat, so he holds her in place with his index, middle and thumb.

“I thought I was going to wring your neck.” she breathes out, the metal hold tightens against her skin and she mewls, her ass pressing against his straining length.

“I wonder how much you would let me do with this…” he coos lowly, flexing the fingers again.

“I’m adventurous, I’ll try anything once.” she manages to reply, though her voice is shaky and needy. Oh she definitely would try anything with him once.

He chuckles, ducking his head resting his forehead against her shoulder as he ruts against her.

“Next time pet.” he rumbles, giving her flesh a sound bite before rising up slightly; his metal hand leaves her neck and she goes to protest; he quickly shushes her.

He begins to pull her hips up and she moves to get on her hands and knees but his hand comes to press between her shoulder blades forcing her chest back against the floor. His metal hand, a firm steadying presence on her raised hips.

His hand lingers for a moment, hips slowly moving against her as he slides his length against the cleft of her ass. She moans and pouts; already dripping, she doesn’t need anymore of his teasing, but that’s never stopped him in the past.

“Look at you.” he purrs his hand smoothing up her spin, calluses catching on her skin. “Mmmmm like you’re worshiping at an alter.”

She wanted to say something, something bratty or smart, but he had her head spinning; so instead she whines and tries again, pressing her ass back against him.

“Yes…” he murmurs and she feels him lining himself and she nearly praises whatever God might exist when his tip catches against her. “So fucking…” and he slides himself in to the hilt. “Perfect” his voice dissolves into a chuckling groan.

Her mouth hangs open but no sound comes out, she’s so full, never quiet entire sure how he fits each time they do this; Troy Calypso is anything but average. He presses himself further almost painfully so, his hip bones digging into her cheeks.

“Quiet for once?” He says his own voice is gravelly and hushed.

She weakly glares at him, craning her neck just slightly to get a look at his smug face. “Can’t have that now.” with that he begins a languid pace, one that has her squirming on his cock.

Every part of her feels alive, her nerves are dancing, the feeling of metal fingers pressing into the meat of her thigh, so tight she’s sure he’ll leave bruises. The feeling of his nails scraping along her spine; the jut of his hips when he comes to press into her fully. Even the feeling of his pants scratching against the back of her thighs, slung just low enough that he could free himself. It’s all so incredibly decadent and she wants more, more of him and and everything he’s willing to offer.

She starts to moan in earnest now, not caring to keep up their little back and forth, it’s too much effort and he’s giving her so much.

It’s amazing how fast he has her teetering on the edge, it’s not fair; it should be criminal. She needs just a bit more, the fire growing in her belly, the spring coiling tighter and tighter, just a bit more.

“Troy…” his name slips past her lips in a prayer.

“Ahhhhh there it is.” his voice is a low rumble in his chest; then his calloused fingers are pressing against the bundle of nerves above her aching core. “You just had to ask.”

She keens the pressure and measured petting overwhelming; she comes, whispering and cursing his name over and over until her body begins to sag and his ministrations become too overstimulating.

Above her Troy sighs, basking in the feeling of the aftermath of her orgasm, her muscles twitching around him as he continues his brutal pace. As she slumps further against the cool metal of the balcony he leans in, his body blanketing hers.

“I think you have one more in you.” he husks in her ear before licking the sweat from her jaw.

“Troooyyyy…” she whines; but god if her body doesn’t shiver at his words.

“You are so good.” he grunts and slams into her harder than before.

His pace ramps up and she finds herself getting pushed further and further against the floor until her hips are barely above the cool kiss of the metal. Her nerves are singing again and she’s moaning and whining unabashedly at him again.

“So. Fucking. Good.” he hisses through gritted teeth, his pace beginning to falter.

She’s surprised that she’s racing towards the peak again so soon after cumming; and he hasn’t even touched her.

“Come on…” he husks. “One. More.”

That’s all it takes, his command and she’s silently crying out as pleasure crashes over her again.

In her haze she can feel him falter and then he pulls out. She feels the hot splash of him against her back and ass and hears his rumbling, satisfied groan.

For awhile they lay in the afterglow, heavy breathing filling the silence. Then his flesh and blood fingers are at her spine, dragging through the mess he made before bringing it to her lips.

“Oh so I get to clean up the mess you made?” she huffs, but it’s all for show as she takes the offering into her mouth.

“I’m surprised you complain so much for something you very much seem to enjoy.” his voice is raw, sated.

She hums around his fingers and nips him one last time for good measure when he goes to move.

Slowly she settles, her body heavy and pleased as the sweat cools on her skin; behind her she can hear Troy moving about and then it’s quiet. After awhile she wonders if he wandered off, a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am; and she hates that the idea of that hurt.

Something slams into the back of her head; she whips around as it falls to her side...a pillow and a rag?

“Nice reflexes.” Troy’s walking back out onto the balcony, pillow under his arm and a worn sheet in his grasp, he must have removed his pants fully as well because he’s on full display.

“Walking around in the full nude now? Is this going to be a new requirement for joining the fold? Oooo gonna broadcast it?” she taunts using the rag he had tossed a her to clean the rest of his drying cum from her back.

He chuckles as he comes to lay down beside her, throwing the sheet lazily over the lower half of their bodies.

“I think that’s reserved for a special few.” he’s smug, the grin pulling at his lips sharp.

“Ooo what an honor then.” she replies, pulling the pillow under her chin and folding her arms beneath it.

“It’s true, you get to witness a rare honor, a blessing really.” she groans and rolls her eyes.

“Alright there big guy.” he laughs and lazily slings his arm over her back as he settles down.

A quite settles between them, the sounds of the desert filling the silence.

“Were you serious about next time with the arm?” she asks

The sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a chuckle and he leans over to nip at her shoulder.

[remember-panchaea]

Drabble: Adam overheating.

Sarif never told him certain things about the augmentations he received.

Sure, they could endure the cold biting at him as the world caved in around him. His skin would numb and lose feeling as the hellscape’s lovely weather sank its claws in through his coat long before he’d ever feel strain on the augmentations. He couldn’t feel his face at some point, despite only having been outside for a handful of minutes.

Minutes that in retrospect felt like grains of sand slipping through his fingers.

Minutes he wished so desperately he could have back.

                     …Dubai was different.

The glare of the sun was a vicious, unrelenting diety staring painful hate down, radiating past clouds he couldn’t even see if he squinted. For the first time, the discomfort in his own skin he felt wasn’t due to it not feeling like his own. It was the need to shed it from his bones and unwrap the furnace that was burning hot, too hot, on the inside.

His coat wasn’t an option. He’d kept it wrapped about himself in hopes that it’d fend off direct sunlight, maybe slow the onset of overheating. What a notion…

Not even thirty minutes into stepping off the chopper, he was already stripping it off and laying it over his arm. The armor was too much. He needed it, he knew that much. He had a job to do.

… What the hell am I supposed to be doing?

Oh…

                                                  …Information…

                    …Who am I trying to find?

          …

                                                 I can’t remember.

Wonderful. This was wonderful.

Adam pulled up the memos tab of his retinal display and flipped through his field notes, pulling up what Miller had told him. Pausing under the overhang of one of the store fronts, he exhaled a shuddering breath. A hand lifted, fingers wiping the sweat off his brow.

               … How long has it been since I last sweat like this?

It wasn’t important.

Oh, it was that guy.

That guy was important.

The effort it took to convince himself to move was tremendous. Just a moment. I’ll get going in a moment. He fished one of the bottles of water out of his coat, cracking the seal and drawing it to lips that had never felt quite this parched. It was gone in seconds, the slow crawl of his throat down before snapping upward again painting a picturesque image of what your own skin feeling wrong felt like.

             Wrong wrong wrong wrong fucking wrong.

He almost missed winters in Detroit.

Moving again, he peeled away from the store front and crossed the street, following the mapped route on his internal GPS. His retinal display wasn’t helping his nerves any. The internal CPU temperature of his augments were reading uncomfortably high at all times, and steadily climbing. Tentatively, he popped the coverings open on his arms as he moved, hoping the air passing over them would cool the systems.

        Well… at first it kind of helped.

                                      …It dropped a whole two degrees Celcius…

              Nothing could really cool him, however.

My fucking brain is roasting, was the only thought he could muster.

It was overheating and part of him wished it had been replaced too. Liquid cooling… Can you liquid cool augmentations? Can you liquid cool a human brain? Wishful thinking.

Is this the right building?

                                                       … I’m certain it has to be.

                                                 Right?

             Fuck this heat…

Adam wanted to go home more badly than ever. That was the right building. Exhale. Breathe. Inhale. Breathe. Exhale. You can do this. The heat isn’t that bad.

          … Yeah sure, buddy.

He swallowed heavily. The moment he stepped in through the front door, he was certain he saw heat radiating in those wobbly little waves off of his arms. Was he imagining it? Probably.

“I’m here to speak with…”

                           …Shit.

                                                           …What’s his name?

                        “…Mister Mahmudi.”

Hesitation. Was that right?

“Oh! Right this way, sir. He is expecting you.”

                                             …

                                                           … Fuck this heat.