#Violet Chachki Fall Reveal

[nakamorijuan]

ＢＥＳＴ　ＲＵｖｅａｌ？

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 71 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Fun fact: this rewrite is now the second-longest fic in the Drace Race RPF section of AO3. (Second only to the original story, lol.) So if you’re looking for a lot of content…we’ve got you. ;) Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet revealed her estranged relationship with her family to Sutan, and Courtney struggled to live up to Miss Fame’s demands.

This Chapter: Some uncharacteristic vulnerability from Violet, Met Gala meetings and morning television.

***

“Do you want more marshmallows?”

“I always want more marshmallows.”

Katya grinned as she got up from the kitchen table, grabbing Trixie’s mug to top them both up. They were decorating gingerbread men, Katya pulling them from the oven last night. Trixie was doing clothes, drawing in the lines and putting details on them, one of his favorite jobs.

It was a tradition of theirs, spending the Sunday before Christmas in their pajamas, preparing cookies and watching Home Alone, the leftover icing always ending up in the bedroom for some sticky afternoon fun.

***

“Aaaand release...”

“Oh god,” Sutan groaned, rolling onto his back and spreading out like a starfish. “I’m dead.”

When he had jokingly asked if he could join Violet for her yoga session, he hadn’t figured she’d say yes, and he definitely hadn’t expected that it’d be this hard, those last few breaths of extended child’s pose essentially torture where he could feel his bones bend and creak.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Violet grinned, his girlfriend sitting back on her knee, the leg with her cast spread out to the side. “We only did 40 minutes.”

“You’re not even sweating.” Sutan looked at her, Violet’s hair in a high ponytail, the Sunday look of one of his shirts and a sports bra quickly becoming a fave.

“Some of us remember to do more than weights and cardio, Mr. Amrull.”

“I’m texting my trainer right now,” Sutan reached over his head, grabbing his phone that he had left on the floor next to their mats, Violet giggling as she laid down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder.

“There,” Sutan pressed send, his trainer probably falling off of his chair when he read the message, Sutan always attempting to get away with the bare minimum when it came to exercise, but he refused to be humiliated by being unable to reach his toes.

He was just about to put his phone down, when Violet reached up and tapped the screen, his front camera opening up, both of them in frame as they were lying on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture?” Violet smiled, her sarcastic tone never wavering. “To document the moment.”

Sutan looked at the screen. It was so incredibly tempting to say yes, to keep this moment in the private password protected collection that had steadily grown since Thanksgiving, Violet really and truly trying to let him take pictures, but he couldn’t say yes, not when he knew why she was so confident.

“And can I post it?”

“Post it?” Violet raised an eyebrow, sitting up on her elbows. “Why? Isn’t your hair...?”

“A mess?” Sutan didn’t want to smile, but it was impossible not to, Violet knowing him way too well if she had already figured out that he was sometimes embarrassingly vain about his hairstyle, the mess on his head looking like he had been fucking for an hour. “Yes, but I still want to post it.”

“I-” Violet had pulled away completely now, not a single trace of the sweetness left. “No.”

“Violet,” Sutan sat up as well, putting his phone down, “I know you hate social media, but you’re my girlfriend, and I don’t think what I ask for is unreasonable-”

“Sutan. Please” Violet grabbed her mat and rolled it together in an attempt to avoid him. “I said no.”

“And I’m pushing because I don’t understand.” Sutan could feel the annoyance build, the hurt and the rejection. It stung every single time Violet denied him, hurt every time she neglected what they had.

“I’m not saying we have to announce it with a workout selfie,” Sutan hated that they were fighting, but he couldn’t help himself, “but I want to tell the world that we’re together.”

“And I don’t-” Violet looked at him, her brown eyes filled with hurt. “If the world knows, they know, and I don’t want them to know where I am or what I’m doing.”

There it was. The they, the them, the family from Atlanta that was haunting his girlfriend's life like a shadow that had slowly started to creep into his too.

“Violet, I hate to be the one to tell you,” Sutan didn’t touch her, simply putting his hand down on the floor next to hers, telling her that he was there. “But the internet exists. If they have your name, they can find you, no matter what you do to hide.”

“Have you taken a moment to consider that they might not have that?”

Sutan paused, Violet’s words like a bomb.

“... What?”

Did her family not have her name? It was true that Violet Chachki barely got any hits on google, that it was Parson’s assignments and internships that popped up, the Galactica employee directory right at the top, but Sutan had never considered that possibility, had never even toyed with it.

“This wasn’t how I planned on telling you. Actually, I probably wasn’t counting on telling you at all, but I’m not…” Violet was fiddling with the tiniest hole in her yoga mat, her fingers tugging on the foam. “I wasn’t born Violet. Wasn’t even born a Chachki. Hasn’t it ever seemed weird to you that my last name literally means trinket?”

“It does?”

“Mmh,” Violet smiled, the same heavy sadness he had seen in the hospital in her eyes. “I needed to not be… Blair anymore.”

“Blair?”

“Yes,” Violet nodded. “Blair Dardo. It was my birth name. I never liked it, and I changed it the moment I turned 18, left it behind the second I could. That’s why I can’t,” Violet gestured vaguely to Sutan’s phone. “Changing it meant that they can’t, that they can’t find me, and I-”

Sutan didn’t know what to say, but it felt like he had just been given another puzzle piece in the mystery that was his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry.”

Violet’s head snapped to attention, her eyes widening in confusion. “...What?”

“I’m sorry.” Sutan said it again, making sure he put his genuine emotion behind the words. “I should have realized that you weren’t saying no to be difficult, and yet I kept pushing.”

“Sutan-” Violet still looked confused and a little suspicious, like she didn’t really understand what he was doing. “You don’t have to-”

“No but I do.” Sutan smiled. “I get it now, and I’m sorry, but next time you have a deep dark secret, maybe you could just tell me instead of this charade-”

Sutan was cut off as Violet threw herself in his arms, knocking him down on the floor and kissing him like her life depended on it, gratitude rolling off of her in waves.

***

“Raja?”

Alyssa held out the plate of croissants, Raja waving it away since she didn’t want one. The entire senior management team was gathered in the  conference room, Fame for some ungodly reason always insisting on a full breakfast spread for their Monday meetings, even though only a fraction of them ever actually ate any of it.

“So,” Fame looked around, a gold fountain pen in her hand, a black moleskin notebook open in front of her. “Any updates?”

The theme of today's meeting was the 2015 Met Gala, Raja barely hiding a groan when Courtney had sent out the meeting agenda.

It wasn’t that she disliked the Met Gala, the first Monday in May a spectacular party, but it was such a hassle getting there, the gala the fashion world's version of the Oscars.

“Yes,” Pearl smiled, turning around in her chair. She was weirdly chipper, her blonde hair collected in a clip, her signature leather jacket exchanged with a cropped black fur. “We have the final confirmation from Jessica Chastain’s team. She’s in.”

“Good,” Fame nodded, making a note in her moleskin, the fact that Fame was actually writing herself more than enough to cement the severity of the situation. Courtney was standing against the wall, Ivy sitting at the table with her computer open, typing away, but when it came to the Met, Fame left nothing up to chance.

“She’s looking forward to working with us, and she says she’s honored-”

“Yada yada yada,” Fame made a hand puppet, and Raja had to hide a smile, Pearl leaning back in her chair with a roll of her eyes, mouthing at everyone else that she’d send a follow up email.

It was Fame who had requested Jessica, in her own roundabout way, her friend casually mentioning to Raja that she had a good smile, which was more than enough for Raja to make Pearl offer her up as Galactica’s celebrity face.

It wasn’t every house who did it, but the big ones always had a celebrity at the gala, wearing their clothes and repping the brand.

“Does anyone know if they’ve moved away from the terrible theme yet?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Alaska offered up, the promotional material the Met had sent out at the start of the fall in the middle of the table thanks to Ivy’s forthsight. “It’s December, and since we haven’t heard anything, they’re sticking with China's influence on western fashion.”

“Good god, I was really hoping they had come to their senses.” Fame breathed out through her nose, and Raja had to agree with her. Sure, ‘China: Through the Looking Glass’ made sense as an art exhibition, but there was really no way to convert it to fashion without being culturally insensitive at best and offensively appropriative at worst.

Besides, Galactica had never been a brand that sought inspiration from the east in their designs and aesthetics, which made the entire situation quite the predicament.

“I’m sure we can work with it,” Trixie gave a small smile, the stack of papers by his elbow indicating that he had probably already put his senior designers to work coming up with concepts.

“And how,” Fame turned, looking directly at Trixie. “Are we supposed to work with it? Raja’s the only one who could possibly get away with being theme appropriate.”

Usually, Fame and Raja were the ones who walked the carpet together with their celebrity, Fame a nervous wreck for weeks before the gala because of all the strangers, while Raja enjoyed it because of her modeling days, seeing old acquaintances without the stresses of fashion week, a delightful yearly treat.

“I’m Indonesian.” Raja knew Fame didn’t mean anything by it, and she wasn’t that concerned about being politically correct herself, but everyone knew what it could mean for a fashion house to misstep, Dolce and Gabbana somehow walking directly from one scandal and into another one. “Not Chinese.”

“See?” Fame sighed, leaning back in her chair. “It’s a controversial time bomb. Either, we stay on theme, which I refuse since I look terrible in Chinese red, ”

“So we’re going off theme?” Trixie had picked up his papers, sorting through them, and Raja felt a moment of gratitude for their head of design, Trixie of course coming prepared with off-theme suggestions as well.

“Unless they get a grip and change it? Yes. Yes we are.”

*

“There!” Everyone held their breath as Maxwell pointed at Violet’s screen, an email from Ivy just ticking in, the Met Gala meeting still in full swing.

“Open it, Chachki!” Blu was practically biting her nails, hopping from one foot to the other, her red hair in a braid over her shoulder.

“Alright, alright-“ Violet clicked on the email, Bob standing right behind her, his eyes flying over the screen before he called out.

“It’s Jessica!”

A collective sigh of relief went through the floor, a loud ‘yes’ coming from Kiara who was clapping her hands together, the group breaking up, chatter filling the air.

“Thank god,” Maxwell groaned, putting a hand on Violet’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I knew having you here would be worth it Chachki.”

“Right.” Violet raised an eyebrow, looking up at him, clearly not understanding why no one had thought to simply ask Ivy for updates before, the suggestion just casually slipping from her during morning coffee, the entire department running with it instantly. “But I still don’t-“

“Get it?” They turned to look over at Jovan who was sitting at his own desk, the man one of the few who hadn’t gathered around Violet’s computer.

“Yes.” Violet nodded. “If you needed information all this time, you could have just asked-”

“Like we could have just asked you?” Bob said, cutting her off and Violet opened her mouth, only to close it again. “Exactly.” Bob grinned. “You would have told us to fuck off.”

“I see your point.” Violet tapped her fingers on her desk, a small smile on her lips since everyone knew she would have said those exact words directly to their faces when she had been in Fame’s front office. “But, why is it such a big deal if a celeb is confirmed or not? The gala isn’t until May, that’s 4 months away and it’s three outfits. A whole collection is usually done in that time.”

“A collection doesn’t have to be approved by the celebrity,” Maxwell counted on his fingers, “the celebrity’s stylist, Vogue and Anna Wintour personally on top of Trixie, Raja and Fame. Alexis usually starts producing concepts in October.”

“As soon as they reveal the theme girl!” Alexis yelled over her shoulder, already pulling her sketches from their shelf, the confirmation meaning that she’d be in a meeting with Trixie for the rest of the day, working out the details of the first round of negotiations with the celebrity.

“Huh…” Violet looked around, the puzzled expression still on her face. “And what about-“

“Fame and Raja?”

Violet nodded.

“You’d think Fame would be the difficult one-“ Maxwell smiled.

“But make something gorgeous and custom in ivory and she’s on board,” Jovan grinned, putting the pen he was using behind his ear as he turned around in his chair. “Every year, she pretends like she’ll follow the theme, and then never does.”

“Exactly.” Maxwell nodded. “Fame is demanding, but consistent. Trixie has an entire drawer of Fame-appropriate outfits that we all contribute to whenever we have an idea.”

“That makes a disturbing amount of sense,” Violet looked mildly impressed, and if any of the rumors Maxwell had heard about how she had managed Fame’s front office, that approach wasn’t too far off from how Violet herself had attempted to tame the beast.

“Rule one of surviving at Galactica: Never disappoint Miss Fame. For once, however, Fame isn’t the problem.” Maxwell sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk. “Raja is.”

“Raja?” Violet looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yes really.” Maxwell crossed his arms. “Every year, she tells us that she’s chill, that she’ll wear whatever goes with the spring collection or the theme-“

“And every single year, she changes her mind at least four times.” Bob chimed in, the drama loving smirks on his lip. “More if you’re lucky.”

“Which is why,” Maxwell nudged Bob’s side with his elbow. “We’ve unanimously decided that you have the honor of dressing Raja for this year's Met Gala.”

“Me?” Violet’s eyes widened. “What? Why?” Violet looked at them, confusion painted on her face. “I’m the most junior member of staff.”

“True, but you’re also sucking her brother's dick,” Maxwell grinned, “so we figured she can’t kill you during the process, unlike the rest of us mere mortals.”

***

It should have been one of the most exciting mornings since Courtney started at Galactica--Miss Fame and Raja were being interviewed on a talk show, and so she got to go to the famous 30 Rockefeller Plaza building, and be on the set of a real television show. Unfortunately, it was such a whirlwind of activity and Miss Fame was in such a demanding mood that she didn’t have a second to enjoy it.

She felt like a chicken with its head cut off, running around in a hectic scramble to meet every request. Today was the last day before their holiday break, and even though Courtney knew that spending her break with Bianca would be incredible, she also knew that she had about a billion things to do before that could even start. Today was supposed to be a half day, but with how packed the schedule was, she’d be lucky to leave by 5.

She entered Miss Fame’s green room, silently handing her the coffee she’d asked for and then leaning on the wall to catch her breath. Miss Fame took a sip and then immediately spit the coffee back out.

“What is this?” she asked, holding the cup out like it was a bag of dog shit.

“It’s your usual-”

“This is not my usual. This is weak, and not hot enough, and-did you just roll your eyes?”

“No, Miss!” Courtney insisted, praying that she was telling the truth. She was tired, having arrived at the office at 6 am to drop off her stuff for Bianca’s, and there was a teeny tiny chance that she may have (accidentally) rolled her eyes. “Would you like a new-”

“Let me tell you something, Courtney. This may be the last day before a vacation, but I expect you to be fully present and accounted for. We have too many important things going on and I will not accept anything less than your absolute very best. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now. Please go find me some decent coffee before I get a migraine.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“And after you come back, I need you to go to the dry cleaners. I’ve decided to wear my ivory Valentino suit to meet the investors later.”

“Yes, Miss, will do.”

“That’s all,” Miss Fame said, waving her hand, and Courtney took off back down the labyrinthine hallways of 30 Rock to hunt down a coffee that would meet her standards.

***

“Good morning! Welcome back to Coast to Coast. I’m Nina West, and today we are positively blessed to have with us the icons of fashion, Miss Fame and Raja Gemini of Galactica, here to talk to us about dressing to impress in the new year, and their exciting new business ventures. Thank you so much for being here, ladies!”

“Thank you, we’re thrilled to be here,” Fame smiled, the lie easily falling out of her red painted lips.

Raja could see the way her hands were clenched in her lap, her wedding ring turned inward and digging into her palm, and knew that she was at her tensest.

Raja had long ago gotten used to giving live interviews. She had a laid-back attitude and while she always wanted to represent the company in the most flattering light, she tended to relax and let the conversation flow naturally.

Fame, however, had never quite gotten the hang of it in the same way. She was just so brand-conscious, almost to a debilitating degree, written interviews so much more her speed.

She always looked impeccable, very much the ice goddess she was so often called, but Fame had never gotten the same confidence in her speaking skills as Raja, who had been dragged through developing them in her modeling career.

Even though Fame hated being on live TV, they occasionally got an offer they couldn’t turn down, and between the makeup line being released in January and the overhaul of their website and online store, they had a lot to plug.

The whole thing was so stressful Fame had asked Raja four times to check her pits for sweat stains, her papers with facts from the makeup department and pointers from Pearl not leaving her hand until they literally had to go on.

Raja leaned forward, giving Fame’s shoulder a reassuring pat, and added, “This is our favorite show, we never miss it!”

“Aww, thank you!” said Nina, grinning. “Now, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have an exciting announcement.”

“Yes, and we’re so happy to be able to share the news with your viewers first-”

“An exclusive!” Nina exclaimed, eyes comically wide and mouth open as if this was news to her.

“Yes, exactly. Early this year, we released a limited makeup line, and it’s been doing just wonderfully. So in 2015, we’re going to be rolling out a full line of makeup and skincare, with special edition palettes and colors all throughout the spring.”

“All natural, vegan, cruelty free...I always want the very best for my own skin and I wouldn’t offer our customers anything less,” Fame cut in, and Raja felt a surge of pride at how natural she sounded. All their rehearsing had clearly paid off.

“If you use it, I’ll use it!” Nina said with a chuckle. “You both have the most gorgeous skin I’ve ever seen.”

“We expect the first batch to sell out quickly,” Raja said, “So go straight to our website, Galactica dot com, and sign up to be part of the mailing list to receive alerts on all new product launches and where they’ll show up in stores.”

“I’m doing that, the second we go to commercials,” Nina said. “But first, I heard that there’s more news about your spring line...”

***

Patrick reached for the remote, turning off the TV as Nina West rounded out the segment with Fame and Raja.

He was sitting in his office, wrapping up the last details before the firm could close down for the holiday break.

Fame had done a great job, the nerves he knew she had felt not showing on her beautiful face. Patrick picked up his phone, a smile on his lips as he started to type out a text.

Fame would probably not read it until she left work for the day, but he was proud of her, and he hoped that she was proud of herself too.

***

Fame collapsed onto her dressing room sofa, completely emotionally drained, the crystals she had stuffed in her bra digging against her skin.

Being on camera for live television always took up every drop of energy, and left her with nothing to spare. Unfortunately, she knew that she didn’t have much time to rest, since she was due at the Russian Tea Room to meet her potential investors in less than an hour. The makeup artist they’d hired was standing by for touch-ups, and her ivory Valentino suit hung in its dry cleaning bag on the clothing rack. But first, she knew that her blood sugar was dangerously low, so she needed…

She looked around. Where on earth was Courtney? Fame had never met someone with such a tendency to be underfoot at the worst times and completely MIA when her presence was required. She walked to the doorway, spotting Courtney having a casual chat with a girl in a headset, carefree as anything.

“Courtney!” she snapped, and Courtney looked up, surprised, even though she was literally here for the sole purpose of taking care of Fame’s needs. “Come!”

Fame turned and walked back into her dressing room, irritated, the rapid click of Courtney’s heels as she ran over grating on her nerves.

“Yes, Miss?”

“I need to eat.”

“Oh…” Courtney’s gaze shifted to the table, where a fruit basket sat amongst assorted pastries and other snack food.

“Not that sugary garbage,” Fame explained. “Violet always had- Don’t you have any protein bars?”

“Oh, of course!” Courtney exclaimed, rummaging through her purse.

Fame rolled her eyes, sighing. That girl truly was useless. What Bianca saw in her, Fame would never understand. She took one of the protein bars that Courtney had carefully lined up on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“I think you’d better head back to the office and prepare the conference room for the investor presentation.”

“Oh, but did you need anything el-”

“No, I’m much more concerned with the meeting,” Fame said. “Everything needs to be perfect. These people will be paying attention to every little detail.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Oh, and take this back with you…” Fame handed over a large manila envelope. “It’s some sketches I’ve been working on.”

“Sure.” Courtney began to put the envelope into her bag, and Fame’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Don’t bend them! For god’s sake…”

“Sorry Miss,” Courtney said, biting her lip, holding the envelope at her side. “Is there anything else you need before I-”

“No. That’s all.”

***

Courtney sat in the back of a cab, eyes squeezed tightly shut, using the time in traffic to center herself and go over her massive to do list. She had to make sure that all the presentations for the meeting were set up, work with IT to test it, messenger out the holiday gifts that Miss Fame added at the last minute, make sure the schedule for January was in order, set up her out of office reply…

Plus, the meeting with the investors wouldn’t begin until they were back from the restaurant, so the “half day” was looking more and more like a full day. At this point, settling in at Bianca’s felt like it was a million years away--and traffic crawling at a standstill didn’t help anything.

She pulled out her phone. Maybe she could set up some of the gift deliveries now, while she was stuck in the cab.

When they were finally in sight of the Galactica building, her phone started buzzing. She looked at the screen. Miss Fame. That couldn’t be anything good.

Courtney took a deep breath and answered, stomach tightening.

“Hello?”

“Courtney!” Miss Fame’s voice was sharp, sharper than usual. “Do you ever use your head? Or do you just go through life without a shred of critical thinking?”

It was fairly obvious that it was a rhetorical question, so Courtney kept her mouth shut, wondering what had gone wrong, what mess she’d have to clean up now.

[theartificialdane]

Galactica,part 49

“Violet Chachki?” Sutan watched as a blonde doctor took a seat in front of them. “I’m Doctor Rebecca Glasscock, and I’m here to take care of you.” Dr. Glasscock smiled, her white coat over a black silk shirt. “The nurses told me you suffered a nasty fall?”

Violet nodded, and Sutan bit the inside of his cheek, annoyance flaring in his chest at how cheery the doctor sounded.

“Well let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Glasscock kneeled down, gently grabbing Violet’s foot and taking her shoe off, a sharp hiss of pain escaping between Violet’s teeth. In spite of icing it for hours while they waited, her ankle had swollen to an upsetting size. 

Last Chapter: Violet was the victim of a little minor workplace assault and headed to the hospital with Sutan.

This Chapter: Some of Violet’s history gets revealed, Trixie deals with Aiden, and Pearl gets scolded.

LINK TO AO3

[dragracereviews]

RPDR Winners Ranked!

Disclaimer: the following list is MY opinion so don't come for me. Also, this won't be including All Stars winners, I'll do a separate list for that!

#11 - Tyra Sanchez, S2: Don't even get me fucking started on Tyra. I was 100% Team Raven and I'm still not over it.

#10 - Bebe Zahara Benet, S1: Elephant in the room; season one just kind of sucked. Bebe did the best she could given the low budget and lackluster challenges and ultimately came out on top because of it. I personally liked Nina Flowers a little more but I’m not mad at Bebe’s win. However, I wasn’t a huge fan of her on AS3, even though her extreme confidence was rather amusing. I do love saying “Kamerooooon” though!

#9 - Violet Chachki, S7: Another disclaimer: I don’t dislike anybody on this list below Tyra, they’re just victims of not being my favorites. Violet started off in episode one being not extremely likeable, but that changed over the course of the season and by the finale, I had basically accepted the fact that she was going to win. I was Team Ginger though and let’s be honest, it was between her and Violet because Pearl had no chance in hell of winning after “is there something on my face?” gate. I do appreciate Violet’s art and I love that she seems to be pretty close with some of her season 7 sisters. And no reveal, at least in my opinion, has ever come close to Violet’s fall runway. Just saying.

#8 - Aquaria, S10: On first viewing, I didn’t NOT like Aquaria, but I didn’t love her either. I was actually rooting for Eureka to win because it’s high time a big queen places higher than runner up! Rewatching it though, I do see why Ru gave her the crown; her runways were perfect and for such a young queen, she was so fucking polished. I was Team Miz Cracker in that iconic “twin” rivalry, but again, I don’t hate Aquaria, she just isn’t one of my top faves. I do respect her and her drag and I’m sure with age, she is just going to get that much better (if that’s even possible)!

#7 - Raja, S3: It almost breaks my heart not to have Raja higher on this list but it's no fault of her own, some of her fellow winners are just that great. Despite being a part of the Heathers clique, I found Raja to be not at all like her shady ass friends. She was the classiest of the bunch (though I do love Manila too) and she metaphorically pissed on that fucking runway every episode. I always found her very attractive out of drag, so that was an added bonus. I was extremely happy when she won! TOOT!

#6 - Sasha Velour, S9: I just went to Sasha’s “Smoke and Mirrors” show in the fall and it reignited my love for this bald queen. I adored her on season 9 and even though most people were expecting Shea to win, I wasn’t mad when she won instead. Her lip syncing at the finale was EPIC and I do believe she beat Shea fair and square. I kind of hoped they would’ve retired the lip sync battle after this season though because I don’t believe it’s a fair way to determine the winner but hey, when has Ru ever listened to what the fans want, amirite? Regardless, I love Sasha and I can never look at rose petals the same way again.

#5 - Yvie Oddly, S11: The hate that Yvie got on her season, particularly from Silky, made me so fucking angry. She came from an honest, but caring place whenever she gave her fellow queens critiques and those bitches just couldn’t handle it (sorry Vanjie, ily). My initial reaction to her winning was slight disappointment, just because as a Canadian, I really wanted Brooke to win, but upon further reflection, I think Yvie deserved it more. She went through a lot of shit in her life and throughout filming and to see her snag the crown after so many people doubted her was so amazing. Also, I’ve met her IRL and she’s is so sweet and a fucking fierce performer. You do you Yvie.

#4 - Sharon Needles, S4: Here we have another underdog. Although Sharon’s fight with Phi Phi O’Hara on the show was iconic (”Tired ass show girl!” “At least I am a showgirl, bitch! Go back to Party City where you belong!”), she did not deserve to be put in just a “spooky” box. Sharon is versatile as fuck, and her changing aesthetic over the years is proof of that. And again, she’s a hot boy so she gets bonus points for that. Love you Sharon!

#3 - Bob the Drag Queen, S8: This season was the first I ever watched so it will always been one of my faves. As much as I loved Naomi Smalls and Kim Chi, I knew Bob was going to win it because she’s just so fucking funny. Yes, her looks weren’t always the most polished, but I adored her anyway and I love her even more outside of the show. In case you didn’t know, she’s actually good friends with Trixie and she even took over Katya’s spot on the “Trixie and Katya Show” on Viceland when Katya went to rehab. We stan a queen who’s there for her friends!

#2 - Jinkx Monsoon, S5: As mentioned in previous lists, I have since forgiven Roxxxy Andrews for picking on my little baby Jinkx, but it still made my heart so happy when Jinkx beat her to the crown. This narcoleptic ginger was adorable then and even more adorable now; I swear her laugh could cure cancer. And if you haven’t watched “Cool Mom” on WOW Presents’ YouTube channel yet, you’re missing out! Jinkx, if you’re reading this, will you be my mom?

#1 - Bianca Del Rio, S6: Hands down, the undisputed winner of the best season of Drag Race. I fucking stan Adore Delano but I was not at all upset with the outcome because Bianca was unbeatable. I. Love. This. Bitch!

[gayyvamp]

I'm kinda in the mood to wear violet chachki's fall reveal look™

[gotproudparents]

What's the one TV show you can all watch together as a family?

The family bonds around any sort of competition sort of show. No surprise for this group of competitive divas. Their favorite is RuPaul’s Drag Race (how are you 9 seasons in and still do not know how to sew a garment?!).

There have been season long wars between family members due to their contestant alliance. During season 7 of Drag Race, Esther was Team Violet Chachki from the moment that queen pulled her Fall reveal in the first episode. Phillip was not impressed and felt Katya should have gone all the way. Surprisingly, no blood was shed.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 49 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet was the victim of a little minor workplace assault and headed to the hospital with Sutan.

This Chapter: Some of Violet’s history gets revealed, Trixie deals with Aiden, and Pearl gets scolded.

***

Sutan could feel his phone ringing in his pocket, the vibration of it against his thigh. He had taken Violet directly to the emergency room, but it had been ages before anyone had come to see them no matter how many times he had returned to the front desk, the nurse simply holding a hand up the fourth time he tried to tell him to return to his seat.

He had tried to be available on his cell while waiting and had expected Violet to be angered by his constant calls and emails, but she had simply dozed against his shoulder, not complaining once that his office kept calling him.

“Violet Chachki?” Sutan watched as a blonde doctor took a seat in front of them. “I’m Doctor Rebecca Glasscock, and I’m here to take care of you.” Dr. Glasscock smiled, her white coat over a black silk shirt. “The nurses told me you suffered a nasty fall?”

Violet nodded, and Sutan bit the inside of his cheek, annoyance flaring in his chest at how cheery the doctor sounded.

“Well let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Glasscock kneeled down, gently grabbing Violet’s foot and taking her shoe off, a sharp hiss of pain escaping between Violet’s teeth. In spite of icing it for hours while they waited, her ankle had swollen to an upsetting size.

“Your ankle is most definitely broken.” Dr. Glasscock looked up at them, her hands still on Violet’s foot. “Miss Chachki, you don’t seem surprised?”

Violet shook her head, her lips pressed together, discomfort radiating from her expression and Sutan couldn’t help but step in.

“The crash was quite severe, and-”

“That’s not what I meant.” Dr. Glasscock didn’t even look at Sutan, in fact, she barely even acknowledged his existence. “Your foot feels very unstable.”

Unstable? Sutan swallowed, unstable never a good word to hear when it came to bones.

“Have you broken anything before?” If you have, it’d be a great help for us to-”

“I’ve had extensive damage to my fifth metatarsal,” Violet cut in, the words leaving her in quick succession. “Fractured.”

Sutan liked to think he knew a fair deal about the human body, but he didn’t know half the words he had just heard.

“So you were a professional dancer?”

Violet nodded again, not saying anything as Dr. Glasscock was now much more thorough, her long fingers pushing and probing, going in with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

“I’ll schedule an x-ray.” Dr. Glasscock stood back up. “You’ll most likely need a cast, but with the underlying tension and bone movement it’s a wonder you’re not more damaged,” Rebecca crossed her arms, looking at Violet. “You must have had a very good physical therapist.”

“I did.”

“Was it here in the city?” Dr. Glasscock asked, making a note on Violet’s chart. “Where you danced, I mean?”

“Yes.” Violet responded, her tone of voice the one that she used whenever she really didn’t want to discuss a subject. However, it didn’t seem to work, as the doctor continued to chat, casually asking the last questions she wanted to answer.

“Really? What company? My cousin used to dance with Ailey.”

“The City Ballet.”

Sutan sat up straight, those words the last he had expected.

***

In spite of the dramatic scene with Violet’s fall, the show went very well-- Miss Fame had even apparently deemed Trixie’s outfit of the day acceptable, bringing him out into the reception to introduce him to some of their buyers without parading him around like a circus animal.

Afterwards, as he had walked backstage to pack up his bag and head back to the office, relieved and proud of his whole team, he hummed happily to himself.

“Um, Trixie?”

He felt a hand tap his shoulder lightly, and turned to fnd Blu, a look of distress on her face.

“Hey Blu! Great work today! What’s up?”

“I, um..have to tell you something.”

She looked gravely serious, almost tearful, and Trixie immediately perched on a nearby stool, pulling one over for her too, fatherly concern creasing his brow.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just...I think I saw something earlier, but I--I don’t know if I should say since I could be wrong. But if I’m right then…” she sniffled.

“Take your time, honey. Whatever you need to tell me, it’ll be okay.”

“So...um...right before Violet fell...I was crouched in the back behind the racks, fixing the hem on my skirt. And...I think…” she gulped. “I think I saw Aiden pushed the racks.”

Trixie sat back, taking a deep breath.

“But I don’t know for sure! I just...I mean maybe I’m remembering it wrong. But Violet’s hurt, so I had to say something. Even though...god, it’s such a terrible thing to accuse someone of. I just…” she sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, dear.” Trixie put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for telling me, I know that was difficult. I’m gonna talk to the manager and review the security footage, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, taking a shaky breath.

***

From the outside, Violet was sure they looked normal, but Sutan hadn’t said a word to her since they had left the doctor’s office, the terrible day feeling more and more like her own personal version of hell.

Sutan had been beyond kind to her, had gone with her to the hospital and stayed after she had told him he could go home. She had dozed on and off, the pain so intense she couldn’t focus on much, but she had heard him on the phone, the fact that he was still there with her when it was inconvenient like a blanket over her frazzled nerves.

“So… The City ballet, huh?”

Violet looked over at him. He was sitting with one leg over the other, his fingers tapping away on his knee, a cold anger radiating from him that she had never felt before.

“Sutan-” Violet wanted to say something, anything, to make it better, to make things feel normal again, but she didn’t know what to do.

“When I said that I assumed you were a dancer,” Sutan sounded casual, his voice low, but Violet knew it was for the benefit of the other people who were waiting, the fact that he was even bringing it up right now only showing her how bad this entire thing was. “Wouldn’t that have been a perfect time to bring up the fact that you have connections to one of America's premiere ballet companies?”

“I-” It felt like a slap to the face for Sutan to remind her of that morning when they had been so happy, a rush of shame washing over her.

“I-” Violet tried to talk, wanted to talk, but she could feel the panic rising.

“Why don’t you tell me things Violet?” Sutan turned his upper body, looking directly at her. “Why can’t you-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he closed his eyes for a second, clearly forcing himself to calm down before he spoke again. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“What?” Violet reached out, clasping her hand on top of his, squeezing it tight even as their fingers dug into his knee. She couldn’t bear the idea that Sutan didn’t think she trusted him, that he’d ever think that he wasn’t special. “I- Sutan, please, it’s-“ Violet swallowed. “I’ve been alone for a long time.”

Saying the words out loud made her realize how true they were, the fact that she was about to share her secrets making her nauseous, but she couldn’t see any other way, couldn’t think of anything else that could maybe salvage the mess she was in.

“I trust you. I do, but I don’t…” Violet trailed off, unsure what to say, how to explain. “I don’t tell anyone anything. Ever.”

Violet could practically hear Sutan take a breath, could feel his chest rise and fall since she was sitting against his side.

“I’m sorry-” Violet looked at him, looked at his familiare face, the eyes she loved, the mouth that seemed to always carry a smile just for her. “I know I’m not easy.”

“Violet-”

“No. No.” She could feel the tears press on, the roaring storm inside of her forcing its way out, but she had to be brave. For them, for him, but most importantly for herself.

“When I was a child. I didn’t… I didn’t speak.” Violet felt her cheeks heat up, shame riding up her spine. “In school I mean. I could talk at home. Sometimes. But, as I got older…  It only got worse.”

Violet took a shaky breath, Sutan turning his hand so they were palm to palm, showing her that he was listening.

“Selective mutism, they called it, which is a terrible name, because there was nothing selective about it..”

Violet hadn’t asked to be born, hadn’t wanted to come into this world, but here she was, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“One of the therapists, they-”

It hurt to talk about, the disgusted expression on her mother’s face, the anger over the fact that her daughter was a freak so clear in her mind.

“They suggested that I could try dance. When I was six. I got enrolled in a ballet class, and it changed my life.”

Violet could feel the tears, hot and wet as they rolled down her cheeks.

“It was the only thing I wanted to do, the only thing that mattered to me, and I was good. So good, I got to go to SAB for the summer. I was 12, and they wanted me as a student.”

“I don’t think-”

Violet squeezed his hand, and Sutan finally caught it in his, intertwining her fingers, her boyfriend shutting up so she could continue talking, forcing the words out the only way she’d ever get through this.

“For the first time in my life, I was free,” Violet laughed, the feeling of leaving Atlanta, of knowing that she was safe, that she had a chance to be something else beyond a disgusting disappointment overwhelming. “I was on track to be a principal. I thought I could do it. I really did, but an injury took me out for a season, when I was 17, and I never recovered.”

“Was that the...” Sutan gestured towards her foot, and Violet realized what he was trying to ask.

“No.” Violet shook her head, her secrets spilling from her like blood from an open wound. “My shoulder.” She moved her right shoulder, it’s familiar ache nothing compared to the sharp pain of an untreated broken bone. “The injury was it. I was out, and I don’t, I don’t like, I can’t…”

Violet didn’t dare look at Sutan, didn’t dare hope that he’d forgive her, that they could move forward from this, that Sutan could possibly care for her after knowing who she was.

“I can’t talk about it.”

She prepared herself for the inevitable, for Sutan to get out of the chair, for him to abandon her too, but instead of being left alone, instead of him leaving her behind, she felt arms around her body, Sutan pulling her into the tightest hug she had ever felt.

***

“We have a problem.”

Raja looked up from her desk, where she’d been jotting down corrections for the springs prêt-à-porter options from tailoring.

Today had been an excellent day. They’d received a number of holiday orders on the spot, and more would be coming in all week, guaranteeing the success of their couture mini-collection. She had gotten a text from Sutan, her brother still at the hospital with Violet, but it seemed like she’d be okay, Sutan promising that he’d check in when they got home.

“Well, that’s never a good opening,” Raja joked, gesturing for Trixie to sit down, folding her hands. “Go ahead.”

Trixie sighed, sitting down, clearly distressed. “One of the designers thought she saw something and so I reviewed the security footage from Violet’s fall.”

He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and placed it on Raja’s desk. Galactica always had cameras whenever they did shows, models, delivery people and sometimes even stylist quick little thieves.

“It’s unmistakable, from 3 different angles. Aiden pushed the racks, hard. And then after she fell, he backed up. It wasn’t an accident.”

Raja’s eyes bulged. Design was competitive, it always had been, but actually injuring a coworker was so far outside the realm of anything she’d dealt with before. She let out a long exhale of disbelief.

“We obviously need to fire him, then, don’t we?”

Trixie nodded, firmly, and that’s when Raja knew for sure how serious it was, Trixie never before in all the time he’d worked there suggesting an employee be fired, had fought against it every time it came up. He’d sometimes suggested moving them if they were the wrong fit, a few designers over the years going back and forth between design and tailoring, one aspiring designer even being sent to Alyssa’s team in marketing.

“Okay. Talk to HR, make sure we’re doing everything right. I’ll call Rita and make sure she’s consulting legal and the insurance company if needed. We obviously can’t let this leak. Were there any witnesses?”

“One, that I know of.”

“Make sure they talk to Rita too.”

“Of course.”

“And when Violet comes back, she should obviously be told, so that she’s got the opportunity to press charges against him. I don’t think we need to notify the police unless she wants to.”

Trixie groaned, and Raja shook her head.

“Never a dull moment, eh?”

“Do we need to tell Fame?” Trixie asked.

“Yes, but not this week,” Raja said decisively. “She’s got enough on her plate. I’ll talk to her next week once her fucking in-laws are gone.”

That, at least, made Trixie chuckle a little.

“Let’s call Rita together,” Raja said, picking up her phone and buzzing Ivy.

***

“Violet,” Sutan smiled, his voice low as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his girlfriend lying in the middle of it. “You have to move over.”

Today had been wild, intense beyond belief, Violet telling him secrets he’d never imagined someone so young could carry around. He had never heard of selective mutism before, a quick google search giving more questions than answers, but he had to admit that an anxiety disorder did seem to fit.

What had been equally shocking, was the fact that Violet used to be a professional ballet dancer. He had known she had done some sort of dance, her posture and the way she carried herself too poised to be a coincidence, that she had been a child prodigy explaining so much of personality and how she presented herself.

“Mmh?” Violet moved her head, cranking an eye open, her limbs obviously heavy with exhaustion. Sutan had poured her into bed the minute they got back from the hospital, Violet’s foot safely encapsulated in a cast, big and bulky on her slender leg, a pair of Sutan’s pajama pants around her hips. He hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to go home to her own apartment, but she’d slept from the minute they got home, late into the evening, barely even noticing when Sutan would check in on her between catching up on emails and phone calls. “Oh.”

“Yes oh.” Sutan chuckled. “Unless you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“No! No” Violet tried to sit up, a yawn leaving her. “I’ll-”

“Let me help you,” Sutan reached out, gently lifting Violet’s foot so she could scoot backwards. “There.”

“Thanks.” Violet smiled, holding a hand out for her pillow, the right one claimed as hers somewhere along the line. Sutan handed it to her, and Violet put it under her head, a small sigh of content leaving her as she laid back down.

Slipping under the covers, Sutan grabbed his phone to send a good night text to Raja, his sister actually asking if Violet was okay, which he couldn’t remember her ever doing for Kahmora. He was just about to put his glasses on, when he heard a small whine coming from next to him.

“Too far-” Sutan turned his head, only to see Violet holding out a hand, reaching for his elbow. “Come here.”

“Ha,” Sutan snorted, a smile on his lips. “You’re only saying that so you can kick me while I sleep.”

“Please,” Violet raised an eyebrow, a glint in her eyes. “I wish. Now come here.”

“Sure cripple.” Sutan grinned, moving closer, his back still against the headboard. He wasn’t going to cuddle up, the risk of knocking Violet’s boot and causing her pain was not something he wanted at all, but it was nice to feel her hand on his stomach, her fingers grabbing the soft material of his t-shirt.

“Not a cripple.” Violet smiled, pushing her hand into his stomach, mimicking a punch. “I could still kick your ass.”

“Say that again when you’re trying to get on a Thanksgiving flight.” Sutan paused, realising that it was less than a week until the holiday. “Actually, speaking of, how are you going to get to the airport, do you need me to-”

“I don’t go back.”

“This year, or?” Sutan had heard Violet mention that she was from Atlanta. Had heard her mention a mom earlier that same day. “If you couldn’t afford the ticket, I don’t mind-”

“I don’t go back.” Violet looked up at him. “Ever.”

***

Aiden had only been in Rita’s office once, on his first day. And even though she was kind, there was still something terrifying about being asked to report to HR. Like being called to the principal’s office.

Or course, it could also be the stern look on Trixie’s face, an expression he’d rarely seen, if ever.

“Do you know why you’re here, Aiden?” Trixie asked.

Aiden hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, not wanting to give away anything, especially not how much he was shaking on the inside.

Trixie brought up a tablet and began to play a video--black and white security footage from backstage at the showroom. Aiden’s stomach dropped to his feet, watching himself onscreen, how his hand reached out and pushed the racks.

He opened his mouth, mind racing with possible explanations. He was losing his balance and grabbed onto the rack for support? He was yawning and thought it was more stable? But before he could speak, another angle began to play, this one even clearer. A brutal confrontation of what a monster he’d been--it was almost too much to bear.

“There’s a third angle, too,” Trixie said. “Shall I go on, or do you have the idea?”

“I...got it.” Aiden lowered his eyes, feeling his dreams slipping through his fingers as easily as the single tear that slipped down his cheek.

“Is there anything else you think we should know?” Trixie asked.

Aiden shook his head.

“Well then. I guess there isn’t much more to say,” Trixie sighed. “We’re letting you go. Giving you two weeks severance. Which, under the circumstances, is exceedingly generous.”

Aiden nodded, tears now falling faster.

“Rita has your exit paperwork. Once you go through everything and sign it all, a security guard will take you down to pack up and say goodbye.”

“Okay.”

“And Aiden, you should know that the insurance company has that footage, and Galactica cannot protect you from whatever fall-out may happen, be it criminal charges or civil liability. But what we can say is that, if you stick by your NDA, we will not comment publicly on this matter. However, if you take any retaliatory action, you’re opening yourself up to a potential shitstorm from senior management, who will want to protect our good reputation in the industry. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Aiden’s voice was barely a whisper, accepting his total and complete defeat.

“Good.” Trixie stood up. “I hope you learn from this, Aiden, and that you’re more successful with your future endeavors.”

***

Katya looked at her phone, checking if she was in the right place one last time, before she knocked on the door.

She could feel the heavy bag dig into her shoulder as she shuffled from foot to foot, waiting, and then, the door opened.

“Oh thank god.” Violet looked more disheveled than Katya had ever seen her before, the dark haired woman wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of green satin pajama pants that was clearly too large for her. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hey Violet,” Katya smiled, hiding the stab of concern she felt at the sight of the bulky cast on Violet’s foot, her slender fingers clutching a pair of crutches. “Sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

When the text had ticked in from Violet with a request for clothes and toiletries, Katya had done a double take, Violet never asking for help before even though Katya had a spare key for her apartment.

“Are you kidding? I’m so thankful that you went out of your way for me--It means the world, when Trixie said I shouldn’t come into work-“

Katya had to bite her lip not to smile at the memory of a very grumpy Trixie being woken up at 6:30 by a certain Sutan Amrull who was calling from his girlfriend’s phone in an attempt to convince Violet that it was crazy to show up Thanksgiving week with a broken ankle.

It had taken Trixie telling Violet directly that he’d personally calculate her already clocked overtime if he had to for her to calm down, Katya hearing the faintest ‘okay’ over the phone.

“It made sense to stay here, but I didn’t have any clothes, and if I’m honest I’m really happy you’ve saved me from attempting to get to the 5th floor on crutches-“

“Violet,” Katya gently cut Violet off, the stream of words almost fighting to get out of her mouth. “It’s cool. You made a very comprehensive list.”

It had barely taken any time to pack the bag, all the clothes exactly where Violet had told Katya they would be. It hadn’t surprised her at all that her friend's wardrobe was that organized, just as it hadn’t surprised her that Violet hadn’t even considered asking her to take out the trash or empty the fridge, not that Katya hadn’t done both anyway.

“Do you, umh,” Violet looked almost shy for a minute. “Do you want to come in?” She gestured towards the apartment. “Sutan is working until 8:30, and I asked if it was okay-”

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but there was no way Katya was missing out on snooping on Violet’s mystery boyfriend’s apartment, who she hadn’t even known existed until Trixie had shared all the backstage drama. Of course, Katya knew who Sutan Amrull was, but Who Really Was He? That’s what she was dying to find out.

“Sure,” Katya grinned, stepping into the apartment. It was modern, expensive but not old money. It was a nice place, though it didn’t tell Katya nearly as much as she had hoped. They made it to the living room, a blanket out on the couch, the TV playing on low.

“Sorry I haven’t cleaned up,” Violet dumped down on the couch, Katya almost laughing at how ungraceful she looked. “Raven came down for lunch and I fell asleep.”

“Do you want me to?” Katya gestured towards the table, only Violet finding a half empty smoothie something to apologize for.

“No,” Violet shook her head. “No. I’ll do it myself, everything is just such a hassle with the crutches.”

“So I’ve heard.” Katya smiled, sitting down on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“I-“ Violet was always strange, but she was behaving extra weirdly, and Katya didn’t think it was just the injury. “So… Sutan is my boyfriend.”

“I gathered,” Katya nodded, doing her best not to ask a million questions. She had no idea Violet had an actual boyfriend before today, but now that she did, she was excited to hear everything.

“Sorry I haven’t told you.” The smile barely touched Violet’s lips, but it was all Katya needed.

“What’s the sitch?”

“Well,” Violet ran her fingers through her ponytail. “He, umh, he asked me if I wanted to come to Thanksgiving with his family.”

“... What?” Katya had expected Violet to tell her about her boyfriend, to give her the meet cute and all the gossip, like a normal girl would, but then again, Violet had never been normal.

“Yes.” Violet nodded. “This morning. After-“

“Talking to Trixie?”

“Mmh,” Violet smiled, her expression incredibly soft. “He apparently texted his mom and asked and I- Do you think...do you think I should go? Is it too early, would it-“

“Do it.” Katya grinned, wiggling her brows. “Live on the edge Chachki.”

***

“Okay, so,” Max grabbed the side of the cart, causing Trixie to pause in the middle of the aisle. He ran his finger down the paper list Katya had made, specks of pink glitter getting stuck to his finger. “We have the green beans, ground cloves, and cranberries...”

Max knew that it was only a grocery list, that Katya had simply asked him and Trixie to get the last bits and bobs for their Friendsgiving because she was still at work, but Max wanted to make sure that everything was exactly right, Katya leaving them with explicit instructions.

“I think we should go get the turkey next-”

“Uh! Max, look!” Trixie grinned, cutting Max off as he abandoned the cart. “Real brussels sprouts!” Trixie picked up the stalk, waving it around like a sword. “Let’s get it!”

“It’s not-” Max dodged, narrowly avoiding the vegetables. “It’s not on the list.”

“Come on Maxie,” Trixie smiled, “Live a little,” he poked Max in the chest with the stalk, waiting a beat without getting a reaction. “You know, if Katya was here,” Trixie put the stalk back. “She would have found that fucking hilarious.”

“Well I’m not Katya,” Max rolled his eyes, fighting to keep the smile off of his lips. He had never met anyone who found each other so all consumingly amusing as Trixie and Katya did, the two of them always having an amazing time together, no matter what they did.

Max was pretty sure he never wanted a relationship, his own company and his friends more than enough, but he didn’t mind the idea of having someone he could laugh with as much as Trixie and Katya did.

“I think we should just stick to the list-”

“Ey, look!” Trixie pointed. “They have purple carrots!”

***

Pearl waited until Courtney left on an errand, presumably to get Fame’s coffee, before she entered. She hadn’t had much interaction with the girl since her breakup with Adore, but Courtney was making it absolutely no secret that she was disgusted, her normally cheery disposition exchanged for cold glares and curt, formal responses.

Of course, Courtney’s iciness was nothing compared to Fame’s, the woman an absolute master at making you feel like dirt below her feet. It was one of the things that attracted Pearl to her in the first place, how she could command a room without saying a thing, how people hung on her every word. That power she had--and how utterly intoxicating it was when she gave it up.

Not that she was giving it up to Pearl anymore. Maybe never again.

Pearl watched Courtney walk to the elevator, waited until the doors had shut before slipping into Fame’s office, standing awkwardly in front of her desk while she finished a phone call. Finally, she hung up, and without glancing up at Pearl, said, “Speak.”

“I just wanted to talk to you, because...because I know you’re probably mad, and-”

“What’s the one thing I asked of you when you began dating Adore?” Fame demanded, finally looking up, her icy blue-gray eyes boring into Pearl’s soul.

“I-”

“I asked you to treat someone I care about with kindness and consideration. And you just couldn’t, could you?” Fame said.

Pearl bit her lip. It was a rhetorical question, after all, and she knew better than to try and answer, give some feeble excuse or explanation. However, she knew for certain that Fame didn’t have the full story, didn’t know how she’d tried, how she and Adore just weren’t the right match--why did that have to make her the villain?

“That’s all.”

And with that, Pearl was dismissed. A rush of shame swept through her body, making her stomach hurt and her ears heat up.

Fuck.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 76 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet was shocked to learn about Sutan’s ex-wife.

This Chapter: Christmas Day continues. Violet asks some tough questions and gets even tougher answers.

***

As Courtney strolled down the beach, Bianca’s fingers laced in hers, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever been this happy in her life. They’d spent a lazy morning in bed exchanging presents and kisses until their lips were swollen. After that, they'd soaked in the hot tub for awhile before walking to the resort’s restaurant for a Christmas brunch right on the water, the gentle waves nearly reaching their table at one point.

After they’d finished eating, Courtney had carefully removed the designer clothes she was wearing (one of her many Christmas presents from Bianca, of course) to reveal one of her new bathing suits, and raced out into the waves, diving into the cool, refreshing water.

It had probably been less than six months since she’d last touched the ocean, but that six months was the longest Courtney had gone since before she could remember. There was something so cleansing about it, so pure, and when she finally emerged from the waves to run back to Bianca on the beach, she felt reborn and fresh, all of her stress and worries washed away.

Bianca was uncharacteristically quiet on their walk back to the suite, simply holding her hand and pulling her in every few feet for sweet, perfect kisses.

She tugged on Bianca’s strap, giggling a bit at the scandalized look Bianca gave her in return.

“What? You said you’d let me peek whenever I wanted.”

“Hmm...well, I guess a deal’s a deal, huh?” Bianca’s face melted into a naughty smirk as she let Courtney pull her top down and leer hungrily at her chest.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff…” Courtney said, and Bianca lunged forward to tickle her sides.

She shrieked with laughter and took off running down the beach, making sure not to go too fast...after all, she wanted Bianca to catch her. Bianca wrapped her arms around Courtney from behind, lips quickly finding the tenderest part of her neck. Courtney let her eyes fall closed, basking in the warmth of her embrace, the delicious feeling of her plush lips, the absolute perfection of the whole day.

***

The most irritating thing about Pearl was how goddamn sexy she was. When Dahlia agreed to sneak away from her grandmother’s house in the middle of Christmas day and meet up with Pearl at a diner on the Lower East Side that happened to be open, she was anticipating a little flirting over a plate of French fries, maybe some light making out.

She was planning to be a tease, to make Pearl really work for it. After all, the fact that Pearl knew how goddamn sexy she was had to be the second most irritating thing about her.

Dahlia was prepared--even excited--to make her suffer.

But that wasn’t how it happened, not one bit. What happened instead was that after barely two minutes of her attempt at teasing, she folded like a house of cards, following Pearl into an exceptionally dingy bathroom. It was those knowing, sleepy blue eyes that did it...or maybe the way her fingers so expertly drew designs on her thigh under the table.

It wasn’t the first time that Dahlia had been roughly fucked against a dirty cement wall, but it was the first time she’d liked it so much.

The first time she begged for more, moaning and whimpering as Pearl’s fingers curled perfectly inside her, until her knees gave out and Pearl had to hold her up to keep her from sliding down to the sticky floor.

“Fucking fuck,” she whispered hoarsely, once she’d finally caught her breath.

Pearl laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, warm hands sliding up from her waist to her tits.

“So, uh...Merry Christmas, I guess.”

“Merry Christmas,” Pearl grinned as she sucked two fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Well...it wasn’t the worst date of my life,” Dahlia told her.

“My roommates are gonna be out all day tomorrow, and you seem like a girl who can scream,” Pearl continued. “So, if you feel like coming to my place...let me know.”

Dahlia shrugged, feigning nonchalance, although her heart already hammered in anticipation of what a whole day together might be like. “Yeah...maybe.”

Pearl smiled again. She knew. Of course she knew, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

Dahlia sighed, internally accepting that she was really and truly falling, that she could no longer pretend that she didn’t care, that this was all just a game to get back at her former friend. Oh well.

***

“There.” Sutan closed the trunk, pressing down on the car key, two beeps giving the confirmation that it was locked. They were in the underground parking garage, Raja and Raven already long gone in the elevator, Raja carrying the majority of the presents while Raven had chatted away, Christmas always putting her in the very best mood.

“You good?” Sutan turned to Violet, stuffing the key in his pocket as he balanced the small tower of Christmas gifts. “Do you need me to carry anything?”

Violet shook her head, her bag around her elbow, his girlfriend leaning on her crutches. Violet had gotten stupidly good at getting around on her own, but Sutan had to admit that he was looking forward to the cast coming off, just so things would get a little bit easier for her.

“Okay,” Sutan smiled, making his way towards the elevator, Violet behind him. She had sat in the back with Raven on the way home, not saying much, but Sutan hadn’t worried about  the quiet, Violet kissing his mother’s cheek before they left so she had to be in a good mood.

If Sutan was being honest, he was beyond thrilled with how well Violet was getting along with his mom, and most importantly, how much his mom seemed to like Violet.

It filled him with warm delight every time he thought of it, his chest almost hot with how happy it made him.

“I know we’ve eaten a lot today,” they stepped into the elevator, Sutan pressing the button for their floor, “but I was thinking that we could have-”

“Sutan.” Violet cut him off, not looking at his face, a sadness in her voice that made Sutan pause immediately even though he could hear that she was trying to be casual. “I have to… I have a question.” Violet paused, clearly fighting to get her words out, “I need to know if…”

“Yes?”

“You were married? Before?”

Sutan raised an eyebrow, the question kind of strange since Violet had literally seen his wedding photos earlier that very same day.

“And you didn’t,” Violet’s fingers tightened on her crutch, her eyes focusing on the elevator door as they rode up, “I know I’m not perfect, and that I’m not…great…at telling you things, but you didn’t,” Violet turned to him. “You didn’t think I deserved to know that you have an ex-wife?”

“What?” The elevator dinged, and Sutan didn’t know what to say. “Violet, why do you think? Deserve? Why would I ever?” What she had just said didn’t make any sense, the fact that he had been married common knowledge.

“Please don’t toy with me.” Violet had retreated once again, no longer watching him, the two of them making their way towards the door, Sutan digesting the information she had just given him. They made their way inside, Sutan putting the presents down by the door, glancing over at Violet who was taking off her jacket, carefully balancing on her good foot.

“...Are you telling me you didn’t know?”

“How would I know?” Violet looked up at him, shrugging her jacket off. There wasn’t any venom in her voice, just a sad reluctant confusion.

“It’s on the first page of my google results?” Which was unfortunate, but true, the wedding photos refused to budge though he had finally managed to get them to the bottom of the page so they weren’t the first things anyone saw anymore. “Everyone covered the wedding.”

It had been Kahmora’s wish, some of the press even invited in for part of the reception, and Sutan almost wished that he had been smart enough to protest.

“Your google results?” Violet put her jacket on it’s hook, Sutan doing the same thing.

“Yes?” Sutan kneeled to take off his shoes, taking Violet’s shoes when she stepped out of them to put them up with his own. “Haven’t you googled me? When we first met?” He looked up at Violet, who was biting her lip, her white teeth sinking into the plush pink, “Everyone does that.”

“You googled me?” Violet seemed genuinely surprised, like she didn’t believe him.

“Of course I did.”

It was one of the first things Sutan had done after he had dropped Violet off at her apartment after their wine bar date, the name Violet Chachki barely bouncing anything back. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, had simply put it down to Violet being young and a new professional in the industry, though the lack of both Facebook and an Instagram had seemed strange to him.

“I’m not a psychopath.”

“Hmm…” Violet didn’t say anything more, instead turning around and making her way to the living room to sit down on the couch.

If it had been anyone else, Sutan would have believed this to be a ruse, to be some sort of manipulation, for Violet to be aiming for something, to be acting out in petty jealousy, but she just seemed sad and bewildered, like this whole thing was genuine news to her.

“You truly didn’t know?”

Violet shook her head, her crutches off to the side, her fingers playing with the edge of her skirt.

“Well, fuck.” Sutan groaned. He regretted joking about Kahmora now, but Violet had seemed so okay with it in the moment that he hadn’t even considered her feelings. “I was married, yes. For a time.”

Sutan took a seat on the couch, putting his arm along the back of it. He hated telling the story, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice, Violet deserving to hear it from him.

“The divorce proceedings lasted twice as long as the whole relationship.” He huffed, almost rolling his eyes at how stupid he had been, the tabloids practically celebrating when that information had come out. “We were only actually together for a little over a year.”

Looking back at it now, Sutan could see where it had all gone wrong, everything moving way too fast, he and Kahmora barely knowing each other before they had tied the knot.

As he had gotten older, it had become clear how he was at fault too, how he should have said no and been honest about his feelings, but back then he had just wanted to make Kahmora happy.

“And where is she…”

“My ex-wife lives in LA now. Not an Amrull anymore mind you.”

It was one of the things Sutan had doubled down on with his lawyer, the thought of Kahmora running around with his last name something his younger self hadn’t been able to stomach. He had given up the Malibu beach house and the Malibu cars in exchange, but it had been a small price to pay for the peace of mind.

“If I never have to see her again, I’ll be a happy man, but she still delights in torturing me whenever she can get away with it.”

“Dramatic.” Violet snorted, clearly thinking he was joking, but he wasn’t, Kahmora the main reason he didn’t want to set foot in the state of California.

“She is. It was.” Sutan sighed. “I’ve made a lot of very bad dating mistakes. Like. A lot. Kahmora is the worst but…” Sutan trailed off, realising for the first time that if Violet didn’t know about Kahmora, there was no way she would know about Jinkx.

Fuck.

He almost wanted not to tell her, wanted to hold his tongue and just ignore it, but he knew how he felt when Violet shared about her past, when she finally came to him with something she had kept hidden.

“I was engaged to Jinkx Monsoon. Before Kahmora”

“... Jinkx?” Violet raised an eyebrow, “Jinkx Monsoon? From the theater?”

“And the trust funds and the TV and the child star thing.” Sutan took a deep breath, not believing that he was voluntarily telling the story. “We met during my hardcore clubbing phase, when Raja and I first got to New York.”

If Violet hadn’t looked him up in the tabloids, hadn’t consumed his online presence, she would have no idea about the drugs, about who he used to be, how wild he and all of his friends had been in their early twenties.

“We’d…dance…” Sutan waved his hand, knowing that he was underselling and underselling hard, what they had done a lot closer to lines of coke and orgies than dancing, “And sometimes, whenever either of us were fucked up enough, uh...”

It didn’t feel like the whole truth, because it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to tell Violet how important Jinkx had been to him, how deep their years of friendship had been, how she had done so much for him and how much he had led her down.

“We didn’t actually get…together…until my father’s death…” Sutan paused, talking about his dad still painful even though it had been years, “I never should have asked her to marry me, but I did because she was amazing and loyal and bright and because at that time I couldn’t imagine anyone else ever loving the broken mess I was.”

Sutan swallowed, the words turning his stomach sour.

“We weren’t good for each other, not in the way two functioning adults should be, and I have so many regrets about that period of time.”

More than he’d ever be able to count.

“I feel terrible for how I treated Jinkx.” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the back of the couch. “I was a real dickhead to her, and she didn’t deserve that.”

“Okay.” Violet nodded, her brown eyes resting on his face.

“Okay? That’s all you’re going to say? Okay?” Sutan had expected Violet to explode in fireworks of rage, to do something, anything, more than just listen to his story, and take it all in. “No plate throwing or yelling? No big dramatics and threats of leaving?”

“Sutan, I’m not upset, but I’m not happy either…” Violet sighed, looking down at her hands, which were twisted in the edge of her skirt. “I obviously wish you would have told me, but…I understand.”

“Really?” Sutan took it all in, not truly believing what he was hearing.

“Yes. Besides, in situations like these, keeping secrets, not telling the whole truth…I don’t have a leg to stand on.” Violet shrugged.

“Well you do technically have one good leg left.”

“Oh god,” Violet rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips, the tension thankfully breaking with his bad joke. “Are you always this clever?”

“I’ve been known to have my moments.” Sutan smiled, leaning forward, Violet thankfully accepting as he pressed a kiss to her lips, gratitude and what he almost dared call love blooming in his chest.

***

VIOLET: Do you google people when you meet them? Like look for them online?

PEARL: I know what google means, lmao

PEARL: And of course?

PEARL: Who doesn’t?

PEARL: How else are you supposed to slide into the DM’s ;)?

PEARL: Why?

Violet was lying in the dark, tapping carefully, the light all the way down since Sutan was asleep next to her.

VIOLET: No reason

Violet dropped her phone on the nightstand before lying back down, rolling over on her side so she could look at Sutan.

She had meant it when she said she wasn’t upset with Sutan, but she had also been honest when she said she wasn’t happy.

Mostly, she just felt strange.

Strange about the fact that her boyfriend had an ex-wife that he hadn’t told her about, strange about how casually the phase hardcore clubbing had fallen from his lips, strange at how he had expected her to have breeched his privacy without his consent, but mostly, how he have done that to her.

Violet bit her lip, reaching out to gently touch Sutan’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over it, a satisfied sigh coming from him at the caress.

All it had taken was a simple google search, article upon article popping up, Sutan either in the forefront or background of more pictures than she could count.

It was unsettling to know that she most likely wouldn’t have liked her boyfriend if she had met him when he was her age, the man he had been in his 20s and 30s so different from who she knew now.

She couldn’t blame him for his past, not when she carried around her own burdens, not when she knew how much a person could change because she herself had changed.

That thought settled it, an easy sense of forgiveness washing over Violet, taking away the unease in her chest.

Sutan could look past her difficulties, could care for her even after she had shared her secrets, and she’d be damned if she couldn’t extend the same grace to him.

Violet shuffled, moving so she was lying against Sutan’s chest, her head hiding in his neck. She felt an arm around her waist, a smile spreading on her lips as Sutan’s hand spread out over her back, her boyfriend holding her tight even in his sleep.

She’d forgive him, because he had forgiven her, and because they were worth fighting for, even with their flaws.

***

Fame had to admit that she was impressed with the extent of what was included in Julia and Owen’s new drawing kits.

She had picked them up as an afterthought at the bookstore where she had been looking for Patrick’s Christmas presents. Her husband was notoriously difficult to buy for, his unspoken wish lists only ever filled with books or tennis equipment. Normally, she would have found books for Bianca too, but this year that thought had only made her stomach sour, so instead of looking at the biographies, she had drifted to the children's section, where she had filled her basket to the brim with gifts for the Sanderson kids.

“Auntie Fame?”

“Yes honey?” Fame looked up from her drawing over at Julia, the little girl sitting next to her at the table, a glittery purple pen in her hand. Owen was across from them, while Kelly lounged nearby with her legs slung over the side of an armchair, listening to something with her new noise-cancelling headphones.

“I wanna do that-” Julia pointed at Fame’s drawing, and Fame smiled. Galactica didn’t do any kind of children’s wear, but Fame had drawn a selection of princess gowns, the sparkles and colors from the kit practically begging to be used for some glittery fun. “I wanna draw princesses too.”

“Well,” Fame smiled, “What’s holding you back?”

“It’s too hard,” Julia pouted her lips. Fame looked at Julia’s drawing, the stick figures she’d produced only vaguely humanoid in the way that was unique to children's drawings.

“It takes time to get good at something.” Fame ran a hand over Julia’s hair, the black locks collected into a high ponytail with a butterfly attached to it, “You simply have to practice, and try, and try again.”

“Mine’s already good!” Owen proclaimed, holding up his picture of what Fame guessed was probably a robot, though she couldn’t be positive, and Julia collapsed dramatically, dropping her head down on the table.

“Oh no!” she moaned, and Fame had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh, the level of drama truly remarkable.

***

“There!” Trixie watched Katya’s entire face light up, an excited giggle leaving her.

They were in Target, discounted Christmas decorations all around them. It was an annual tradition of theirs to go raid the Target out in Brooklyn for everything it was worth.

“Isn’t he the cutest?!” Katya held up a black bird that was wearing earmuffs in red and green and a multicolored scarf.

“Is that a penguin or an owl?” Trixie took a sip of his gingerbread latte.

“Does it matter?” Katya smiled, putting it into the cart. “Ooh! Look! He has a little foxy friend!”

Trixie laughed, following behind Katya as she went through the store, grabbing everything that caught her fancy. With Trixie’s salary, they didn’t need to do this in Target, and they certainly didn’t need to do it when everything went on discount, but he knew he wouldn’t find this ritual of theirs anywhere near as fun if they had gone to some fancy store.

Part of the joy of their Christmas collection was that it was eclectic, that they hadn't just swiped a credit card in a department store and bought out entire displays.

Trixie loved their stuff because it came from a million different places, but mostly, he loved it because he had found it all with Katya.

He watched as Katya picked up an entire case of leftover forest animals, the sweater she was wearing tightening around her belly. It was starting to get more and more noticeable, the woman of his dreams slowly filling out with his son or daughter.

Trixie couldn’t wait to meet them, though he hoped that little Killer would grow up to sincerely love Christmas.

Otherwise, they’d have some tough years ahead.

***

It had been another blissfully perfect day for Courtney--lounging on the beach, body surfing in the cool water, sipping sweet and delicious rum-filled cocktails, then getting all dressed up for a romantic dinner, where she got to stare at Bianca’s beautiful face in the candlelight, holding her hand and listening to her stories.

And now, she lay sprawled across the bed, the alcohol still in her system making everything spin pleasantly as Bianca knelt between her legs, driving her to delirious ecstasy over and over. She gave in to the thrilling dizziness, letting go, mind soaring and body reacting on auto.

“Angel…” Bianca’s voice was the first thing that snapped her back into the present, as she lifted her head, chest still heaving. There was a naughty grin on Bianca’s face, her dark eyes glistening in the moonlight as she asked, “You still got more in you, huh?”

Courtney nodded, gasping out, “Don’t stop,” as her fingers gripped Bianca’s hair tighter.

“Hold that thought…”

“Wait,” Courtney whimpered, reaching out as Bianca slipped from her grasp, her head lolling pathetically on the pillow. “Come back.”

Bianca chuckled, pawing through her suitcase and pulling out a large canvas bag, which she unzipped and then dumped unceremoniously on the bed.

“See anything you like?”

[artificialqueens]

untitled melodrama (sharolet) - melody

A/N: I’m happy to announce that I wrote something for the fic challenge!! I started writing this a while ago with this crazy idea I got and BOOM i saw it was one of the tropes, and then I got the other one. I used the following clichés/tropes:  ’‘4. A and B are childhood best friends or neighbors’’ and “8. A and B reunite after a long time apart.” and hope you like it + “lesbian au” from the bonus list. @artificialmeggie thanks for beta reading, and for handling me freaking out because of this fic many times heh. - I wrote this for someone, and that’s the dedicatory to her: I’m sorry, and I admit I have blood in my hands on writing this  I just want to let you know I love you, before I fade away as the memories. 

‘’C’mon Violet, you have to sleep.’’

‘’Uh, that’s a no for me,’’ Violet replied, grabbing the pack of Cheetos beside her even if the girl near her stared at her with a serious terrifying expression.

‘’It’s late!’’ Sharon complained, patting Violet’s head.

‘’Huh, can’t you be awake? Oh, wow, you’re so tough Sharon Needles.’’

Sharon smirked and pulled her out of bed while the sound of Violet’s melodical laugh filled the room. ‘’I can, I’m only saying that because it’s time for the baby, which means you, to sleep.’’

‘’Fuck you. I’ll only sleep if you stay. Now.’’

A soft sigh was let out from Sharon’s mouth, Violet knew she was trying to find a way: she always did. Even if she seemed badass and the kind of girl who would leave her sleeping alone,Violet wouldn’t ask her to stay without telling her to go fuck herself.

‘’I can be a little rebel and sleep here, but sleep!’’

Violet yawned, resting her head on Sharon’s shoulder - Sharon’s cheeks were red as a tomato. ‘’Good, because I’m gonna need you anyways, I’m gonna need your arms…’’

‘’You want me to cuddle and protect you, don’t you doll?’’ Sharon petted Violet’s long black hair making the girl blush. Violet Chachki never blushed ever. But when Sharon said that, her cheeks turned red immediately, but she would never show it with words.

She called her ‘’doll,’’ she had the right to blush. Or, maybe she hadn’t, they were friends, she had to repeat that to herself in her mind multiple times before saying something that would distract Sharon of how flushed Violet got.

‘’I don’t need protection, but if you wanna choke me with those arms I wouldn’t be mad.’’

‘’Me either, but I think my mother-in-law wouldn’t be very happy with that, would she?’’

‘’Your who?’’ Violet blushed even more. ‘’My mom would kick your well-kicked ass. Now put your dumb arms around me and cuddle me, I’m sleepy.’’

‘’Was that soft Violet speaking? Cutie.’’

‘’Shut up, I’m cold.’’

Violet was aggressive, a true spoiled brat. She only let a few friends see her soft side with a bit of her personality of course - it was her true self when she let herself blush at what other people said - Sharon was one of them… Was Sharon one of them? She wasn’t sure if friends did the stuff she did, but she was glad anyway: glad to feel like herself when she was with her.

Glad to be herself, glad to have Sharon beside her, helping sleepy Violet to get in her pajamas. She was glad that Sharon kissed her goodnight - on the cheek, but it had its turn to make Violet red over and over again- and that her arms were around her; all Violet could hear was her heartbeat, her soft sighs - all Violet wanted to whisper was an ‘’I love you’’ and let it go out with the cold wind that blew from her open window.

But she couldn’t, so she wished she could freeze in it. Too late, Sharon was there making her warm.

[…]

A cup of coffee was all Violet needed on that rainy morning. As a teen she used to be addicted to coffee, and drank it recklessly; as an adult she needed it - otherwise she would not function. Now back in bed in her red silk pajamas, she reached for her laptop, the essay she had to write for college wouldn’t write itself, and a rainy day like that one suggested that it was time for some work.

As a college student life was like that: a lot of coffee, essays to be done before they’re due. Her fingers worked fast; she was doing it at last moment since the essay was for tomorrow. The sound of the laptop keys furiously being hit by her long black nails indicated that Violet was a fierce girl - she wouldn’t give up just because she forgot to do it; she had coffee at her side.

Violet Chachki was an aspiring model who came to the city of New York to pursue her dream. As a teenager she was told that she had danger in her eyes and could cut a bitch with grace. Violet was pretty but poison and that attitude helped her to survive. FIT was crowded snobby rich people who mocked Violet for living in her small flat and for not having a large amount of money even if she seemed to. But Violet was a fighter, and she wouldn’t give up; she was a fighter, and it reflected in the aggressive way she typed her essay.

Her dreams were too beautiful to not be followed, so the only thing she could focus on right now was on the screen of her laptop and in the words flowing in her mind. She couldn’t wait for when she finished it; she had gone for months without dating anyone or going to parties because college was too rough - fair enough, her parents spend a whole lot of money on her future, no time to be a dumb young adult now.

When she was done, she breathed in victoriously looking at her essay. Mostly, her teacher hated everything she wrote but her flawless essay about the history of fashion was more than just an essay: it was an essay she wrote with all her rage, love, and caffeine. Violet liked feeling so confident when she finished her stuff, she felt on top of world, like the queen of her own planet - she could do whatever she wanted now.

Whatever she wanted meant being a dumb young adult and swiping on Tinder. It was the last essay she had to write, and finals were far off; she could finally breathe. She only loved one girl in her whole life, when she was a teen. It was the only time Violet opened her heart for love and fully embraced it, such a shame that the girl walked away… Since the day, her heart became stone cold, and now she only looked for silly hookups when she felt like it.

Too creepy, too boring, too straight girl looking for a threesome with her boyfriend… Or Violet was too picky, or Tinder really wasn’t her cup of tea. She was about to give up when somebody caught her attention: a woman with black hair, black eyes, and plump black lips. She had strong facial features, and this look that spoke deep to Violet’s soul - that definitely reminded her of why she was a lesbian. She reminded Violet of someone, but she was so hypnotized by the picture and the instinct of liking it that she couldn’t bother.

What she thought it was most strange was the name. That girl didn’t put her name on her profile only an ‘’S’’. She thought it was mysterious, kinda sexy… Violet wanted to meet her stranger so badly, her heart almost did backflips when she saw that they got a match.

She was feeling kinda dizzy, nauseated by the feeling as her heart was trying to tell her something. Nah, it was the lack of sleep, another cup of coffee would help.

[…]

All the people didn’t matter to Violet in that moment, not even her friends waving at her from the table where they always used to sit. She was looking for Sharon, of course she was. Every day at lunch was like that, Violet’s heart skipping a beat when she found the dark haired girl and her hypnotic laugh. Her heart skipped even more when Needles wrapped her arm around her waist, in front of all of her cool friends.

‘’Hi princess, how are you?’’

But she was her friend too, right? Violet was always in this awful denial, she knew what she felt - the blush on her cheeks, the heart palpitations, the glow in her eyes every time she looked at Sharon - but being in denial was better than facing that she loved Sharon with all her heart, if she did she could let her heart be broken: Violet Chachki could never. But that love was so hard to hide, Sharon didn’t make that easy because well… Sharon was just Sharon, and that was why she loved her: she loved her qualities, and her flaws, all that composed the beautiful piece of art of Sharon Needles - a unique piece to look at, then when you looked at the details, you would fall even more and love with art suddenly.

‘’Good.’’ was all she could reply, indifferent because she was absorbed in her thoughts.

‘’Oh, okay.’’

Sharon looked away and sighed: if Violet knew how to be indifferent, Sharon knew even more. Sharon’s other friends looked at them with curious eyes, Violet knew them only by sight but suddenly she was very worried about their judgment.

‘’…Didn’t meant to be a bitch’’

‘’I guess you had a tough morning didn’t you?’’ Sharon smirked. Gods, Violet loved her smirk so much. “I’ll take the apology’’

‘’I do not apologize. Bye bitch.’’ Violet threatened to leave.

‘’Nah, I know you’re staying.’’

Violet blushed, only a whisper could be heard.

‘’I swear, when will these two get together? Oh my god-’’

Never. That was the answer, even if Violet stayed at that table and ate her lunch trying to hide her love for her friend, even if they flirted and acted like they were together, even if Violet got a lot jealous whenever Sharon flirted with another girl, even if Sharon made her feel like the most loved girl in the world with the excuse they were just friends… They never would get together.

[…]

Days later, it was a Friday night. Seven thirty. Violet looked flawlesswaiting for the mysterious girl. Still mysterious, because she didn’t reveal who she was when they started talking; it could be some creep but in a restaurant full of people it would be hard for her to do shady stuff. It was all part of a game, Violet knew well how to play it, her life was too boring to be honest - her dreams were big, but some classes in college made her want to sleep forever - a little fun wouldn’t be bad. Something about S made her heart skip a beat like she did when she was a teenagerwhen she fell in love; she liked it.

S was funny and mysterious, and vaguely mentioned she was in NY for some time off college in her hometown. In their talks she seemed to be the most addictive person Violet ever talked with. There was something about her, this aura she couldn’t distinguish… She kept calling Violet her princess which made her not think with her brain anymore. Well, she had a pretty free time; why not fall for that sexy stranger? It was just a hookup anyway. Just a silly hookup, right?

All the people outside weren’t her, Violet was starting to get impatient, after all itcould be just a prank. Violet felt humiliated, she could never be treated like that - she had a big ego, when broken it made her go insane. That’s why she treated the woman who asked for her information so badly, and almost broke her heel stomping her feet on the floor. Did she even exist or was just a daydream of her mind?

Her profile picture reminded her of the first girl she loved, Sharon Needles - and she remembered the moment so clearly, when her brain started to get confused and she had to stare at her screen for five minutes in a row. Maybe she was projecting her after all these years, Sharon was in Pittsburgh, it could never be her it was geographically impossible… Just a projection… Violet was starting to go crazy.

‘’Hey doll, found you.’’ In a second the stranger was standing next to her.

Now Violet thought she was crazy. She really looked like Sharon… But it couldn’t be, Sharon stayed in Pittsburgh, was following her dreams with her band probably, and they never spoke again. S was in New York, it was just a ridiculous ressemblance. But even her voice… No. Violet had to forget Sharon again - she never forgot her completely, in some moments like that she had to take her out of her system, but she always came back into her mind like a kind of witch. She had to do a witch hunt now, because S was in front of her looking like a goddess of the night with her black long sleeve dress.

‘’Wow you’re real, and late.’’

‘’Hm looks like somebody here is a brat, am I right?’’

Violet was quiet, the other woman bit her lips and stared at her silently getting a lock of Violet’s black straight hair in her hands.

‘’S-sorry.’’ Violet never apologized, but the goddess in front of her was just so hypnotic that the words came out of her mouth as an impulse.

‘’Good, I’m very glad to meet you. You’re even prettier in real life.’’ She kissed her hand.

‘’You too, damn that… Personality.’’ Violet bit her lips

‘’Oh boo, don’t worry I know you were staring at my body.’’

Violet blushed.

‘’…May we come in, princess?’’

S was just amazing, in many aspects she reminded her of Sharon - even in the personality. But she wasn’t like Sharon, she was… More mature than her, a crazy voice in her mind told her. It was an adult and more mature Sharon, but it was impossible - Sharon had a selfie in Pittsburgh taken two days ago, not that Violet stalked her still… Or maybe sometimes she did.

S, right, she had to focus on S. The dinner was just amazing. It wasn’t just another girl trying to get in Violet’s pants. S actually listened to her and was attractive and addictive at the same time. Violet felt like a teenage girl again to the girl talking about rock bands, babbling about cigarette brands, any random topic could be fun when S’s beautiful voice said it.

‘’What do you mean you don’t like Jennifer’s Body?’’

‘’It’s not horror, it’s a bad movie.’’

‘’It’s my favorite movie!’’ Violet pouted, feeling the wine starting to take effect in her brain - drunk Violet was a little bit whiny. ‘’It’s funny and very horror.’’

‘’Violet, sweetheart how many horror movies have you ever watched?’’

‘’Hmph, four, maybe five. Six with Jennifer’s Body aka the most important cinematic work of the century, duh.’’

‘’Jennifer’s Body it’s not horror!’’

‘’It has blood, it is horror, and my point is the only valid point bitch.’’

‘’Watch your mouth’’ S’s voice was low now. Fuck.

And more food - and wine obviously - arrived, and more topics came into the table, until they were drunk and laughing… Was that S’s hand on her thigh?

‘Why don’t you reveal your name to me?’’ Violet babbled.

Did she just saw the other girl gulp and shake?

‘’Because it wouldn’t be fun, sweetheart…’’

‘’Why not?’’ Violet pouted. ‘’C’mon you’re gonna see me like once in your life, why are you so mysterious?’’

S stopped and placed her hand over Violet’s, caressing it like it was the most precious thing in the world: ‘’You will have to find out… Don’t you like little games?’’

Violet bit her lip, she surely knew how to win her.

[…]

Usually, Violet loved parties and to be the center of attention, but in this one she was just sitting in the corner of the room with what should be her third drink for the night. Teenage parties were messy, but Violet was pretty and modelesque so everyone wanted to look like her, to party like her. In this one, the always shiny and attractive Violet was a sad figure even if looking flawless as always.

Her friends dragged her there, when she didn’t want to see the world that night. The reason? It might or not be the fact Sharon would be there, and Sharon at parties was one thing: a womanizer. A lot of girls would follow her, ask her to dance, or have drinks bought by her… And none of them would be Violet, she was in parties with Sharon before - she was always just her pretty friend, the one who helped her going home after drinking too much.

She just didn’t want to handle this, not on that night. She decided to throw denial away and accept her love for Sharon. At firstshe felt free, but with the love the disappointing truth came: it would never work. They were friends, would never be more than that; even if they flirted, even if Sharon called Violet’s mom ‘’mother-in-law’’ a lot of times on a daily basis, if she told her beautiful things when they fell asleep in their little sleepovers, was dangerously close to her in a lot of moments, made her feel more special than anyone else ever did - Violet was sure she had no idea of how much - and was the love of her seventeen-year-old life… They would never be together.

Violet used to get everything she wanted in the palm of her hands, not getting the thing she most wanted in the world was upsetting enough. Now she had to see Sharon Needles in action, with a new girl every time she blinked - basically. Why did Pearl promise it would be fun? It clearly wasn’t, but her friends would never know why; they all thought Violet was just dramatic about Sharon.

Dramatic or not, she was sitting sad in the corner with a beer - a thing Violet hated, but it was the only thing to drink at that stupid party, and Violet couldn’t bear being there sober. Feeling the awful taste it had, and repeating to herself that she deserved it for feeling things.

‘’And why is the little lady sitting alone there?’’

‘’Oh I see that she let out the drinks and the girls to talk to her pathetically alone sad friend, very good for you Sharon’’ she thought, and gave her a smirk.

‘’I’m just…’’ She sighed. ‘’Bored’’

She was bored of all that situation, bored of having feelings for her, so bored that nothing would ever happen - boredom was sad, like a funeral, her heart was a funeral.

‘’Oh Violet, c’mon go dance, they will play a slow dance song soon! There’s plenty people here and suddenly you will find a girl who is not me to baby you.’’ she pretended to sob.

Why was she like that? Jesus!

‘’I don’t want to find a random girl to dance.’’

‘’Oh c’mon, you’re literally the prettiest girl I ever saw.’’ Sharon crossed her arms.

‘’I doubt, you saw so many, “Womanizer” by Britney is totally about you’.’ Violet tried to bitch to hide the fact it was more true than she would like to.

‘’Oh don’t you dare! What’s what I win for praising you, ugh.’’

‘’Shut up.’’ she laughed.

Why was she like that? Always making her laugh, when she shouldn’t, always making her heart beat, when she couldn’t let it beat…

‘’So what do you want, doll?’’

Violet would blame it on alcohol, even if she only had three drinks. But she got up and stared at Sharon, sighing: ‘’if there was nobody in this party, only us and the music, would you dance with me?’’

Drunk Violet was clingy as she never thought she would be, or maybe was the feeling. But she blamed the alcohol, even if she couldn’t.

Sharon was quiet.

‘’How would you do it?’’

More silence, Violet thought on making up an excuse. ‘’I’m drunk,’’ she could say. ‘’I’m probably gonna bang the next girl I find.’’ ‘’I’m on that days you know.’’ ‘’Fuck you,’’ all were acceptable excuses - once Sharon took her hand.

‘’Why don’t I show you?’’

Violet blushed, now Sharon’s hands were on her waist as the slow dance song started to play in the living room. It was almost the end of the party, people were wasted, some even were sleeping - but a few people who still could stand went to dance, all of them were couples. Very different than Violet and Sharon, but the girl was so close to her, her breathing on her neck, the sound of her heartbeat…

‘’I would hold you tight,’’ she whispered, ‘’because even if you don’t admit it you’re such a cute little thing I want like to hold you forever.

Violet’s bad defense mechanism would totally tell Sharon to fuck herself, but in that moment she couldn’t… She only could sigh softly with her head laid down on Sharon’s chest.

‘’…and we don’t need to be alone’’

‘’I thought we needed…’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’This party is so full of cute girls, I’m sure you would rather be dancing with them.’’ Violet confessed, it was hard for her to not form a sentence with her superiority complex showing, but at that moment she knew she couldn’t hide behind her mask anymore, she was just so vulnerable under the party lights.

‘’I would pick you, and you know it.’’

She was so close that for one moment she thought they would…

‘’Sharon!’’

It was Alaska, probably really drunk. Alaska was one of the many girls Sharon used to go out with, blonde, tall, and wore an excessive amount of lipgloss - but Violet had to admit she was pretty. Alaska awkwardly ran to her, completely breaking the moment.

‘’I need you.’’ She pouted, and then realized Violet was there. ‘’Oh!’’

‘’No need to worry, doll. What do you need?’’

And Sharon was gone, walking with Alaska in the party, probably to some room to ‘’help her’’ - Violet knew exactly what they would do. It was like the moment they just had meant nothing to her, as all the moments they had meant nothing at all; all the deep talks, the pretty things Sharon told her, the heartbeats… Sharon did it for everyone, and would never admit she would do it for Violet - She knew that if they both faced that they felt something for each other at the same time, they would never speak again, things would be weird.

Now Violet decided to truly get drunk, only alcohol would help her to process that night. She had to dance, as Kesha said in the song that played next, with tears in her eyes.  […]

Stumbling on the stairs because the elevator was broken, drunkenly laughing in S’s arms, Violet was in ecstasy. Her kisses warmed Violet up while it rained outside in the cold night: the laugh, the kisses, the thrill. She felt something so good in S’s arms, something she hadn’t felt since she was young, something so vibing - maybe it was the alcohol speaking.

In the morning, her eyes opened to a big window and to the rain. When she turned to the other side, she saw a goddess lying by her side. S was truly so beautiful, she reminded her of Sharon over and over again - they had many sleepovers, she remembered waking up first just to watch her sleep, cursing herself so badly. But that girl wasn’t Sharon, she could watch her, she could be cuddled by her with no shame.

Except she didn’t know her name, she couldn’t be Sharon. No, Violet was totally crazy. She tried to make those thoughts go away and replace them with memories from the last night - the dinner, the kisses, S… It worked; she was smiling.

It was a pretty fancy apartment, with big windows Violet could never afford, expensive furniture, a big screen tv, a king size bed and the softest sheets she ever lied on. Violet wondered how could S afford all of it being a college student.

‘’It’s my aunt’s. She lets me crash here while I visit the city; she’s like rich or something. I bet she doesn’t even miss it.’’ S yawned. ‘’Good morning, princess.’’

‘’Oh that’s good, I was about to ask you to be my sugar mommy but I’ll have to ask her then.’’

‘’Good luck with it, to be honest even if she’s straight, I think you will get it for being so damn cute.’’

‘’Maybe you should kill her and take her money so I can be your sugar baby.’’

‘’Damn, I would like that.’’ S joked. ‘’We had quite a night, didn’t we baby girl?’’

Violet was red as the sheets that covered her body.

S petted her hair silently, and they remained like that. It was weird how Violet was getting attached to it, as something kept stopping her for being the good old cold-hearted Violet to that stranger, she liked the comfort of her arms so much. She just wanted to end that damn mystery, something was behind her ear telling her to question S about it.

‘’Now I really wanna know your name. Didn’t I win the game?’’

‘’You did… I just can’t tell you’’

‘’Why?’’ Violet crossed her arms ‘’Literally, of all reasons in the world, why?’’

‘’You know me.’’

‘’From where?’’

‘’Pittsburgh.’’

No, no, no. It couldn’t be, Violet felt like she was going to faint, the world got fast and all she could see was circles, faster and faster. Her hands were cold, and it was like she just saw her worst nightmare. It couldn’t be; she was too scared to ask.

‘’S-Sharon?’’ that was all she could say, in broken syllables.

The girl nodded. Fuck. Instead of fainting, Violet got up angrily and started picking up her clothes and getting dressed. She didn’t want to take a single look at Sharon’s face, after all those years, after all she did to her… After the day she broke her heart and made her never want to love again. She was there, she was there and they fucked. She was there and made her feel the exact same thing she felt in the past; she was there.

‘’Calm down I’m sorry-’’

‘’Explain!’’ Violet shouted angrily.

‘’I saw you gave me a like on Tinder. I had no idea you were doing college here; I haven’t seen you since you went to live with your godmother in Paris, since…’’

‘’Since you dumped me?’’

‘’If you wanna call it that…’’

‘’Keep. Fucking. Talking’’

‘’I saw you, and I already used ‘’S’’ in my profile because it’s mysterious and cool, but I tell people my name, I’m not that weird but… I really wanted to see you, and I didn’t know what you would do because of all that stuff-’’’

‘’Do you mean our feelings?’’ Violet yelled.

‘’Fuck, Violet. I messaged you, and when I saw you, I really-’’

Sharon wanted to see her, she wanted to see her. That little teenage girl feeling was still awaken inside her, she got butterflies in her stomach at the thought that Sharon Needles did all of that just to see her, but she couldn’t let herself fall again, she couldn’t.

‘’What about that Instagram picture? You really could be in Pittsburgh right now; it was two days ago.’’

‘’Do you know people don’t actually post pictures right after they are taken, right?’’

‘’In what world you live?’’

‘’Gods…’’ Sharon shook her head in denial.

‘’So what we do now?’’

‘’…I need time, to think, after all of this.’’ Sharon sighed.

Good thing she didn’t fall, she was wrong - the little young teenage Violet inside her was completely wrong.

‘’You need what now?’’ Violet was ready to lose her mind. ‘’I should be the one who needs time to think. What the fuck?’’

‘’You act like you didn’t do the same thing to me when we were freshmen You used to put a lot of anonymous letters in my locker and made me believe it was somebody else than you, and I forgave you for fooling me.’’

‘’Oh, I didn’t fool you. We were children Sharon-’’

‘’Stop being such a hypocrite!’’ Now she was yelling too.

‘’I’m not being a hypocrite, why do you always come back into my life like a fucking hurricane? You mess up my life all over, all over but…’’

‘’But what?’’

‘’But I love you.’’ Violet was crying; she didn’t even care about the ‘Violet Chacki never cried’ bullshit. ‘’I still love you, I never stopped loving you.’’

And they were kissing; it was a different kiss. It was hurtful, full of unresolved feelings all over the years, Violet was so messed up but she was never more sure of what she was doing. It just felt right, even if it was wrong. Violet started crying between the kiss.

‘’Shhh, it’s okay, please don’t cry.’’

‘’Fuck you!’’

‘’Let’s give each other a little time, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, take your time to leave and-’’

In a matter of seconds Violet grabbed her purse and mumbled a ‘’see you then’’ angrily. When she left the building, she didn’t even care if she never cried in public - she did, violently, it was her almost losing the love of her life over and over again. That was what she won for opening her heart again.

[…]

Weird was the word who could define Sharon in that day. In the weeks after the party, they were closer than ever, like they actually dated - Violet couldn’t help letting her blood boil every time she saw some girl flirting with Sharon, but she knew nothing could be said, just the fact they held hands on the way back home was enough.

But the other days were sunny in Pittsburgh, this one was cloudy and dark. On the other days Sharon laughed, on that day she was silent. On the other days they held hands back home, on this one the only thing in their way was the awkward silence. On the other days their love - or whatever they had - lived, on that one it was a ghost.

Violet questioned her, a lot of times. She was worried that something had happened to her; so silly, so naive. She saw the bags under her eyes, she saw how apathetic she was, she saw how she looked at the floor and couldn’t let it pass. So when they were almost in their neighborhood Violet stopped.

‘’Sharon!’’

‘’What?’’ She questioned.

‘’You know you are weird today, what’s going on?’’

Sharon sighed.

‘’Whatever this is I’m here for you, I’m worried’’

She sighed, again.

‘’Sharon Needles! What. Happened?’’

‘’I don’t know. The last weeks were so crazy-’’

‘’It will pass, okay?’’ Violet held her hand.

And Sharon took her hand off Violet’s abruptly. Silence again. Sharon looked into her eyes:

‘’I’m scared to hurt you, I always hurt you.’’ It was like somebody punched Violet in the face.

It was all her feelings, all the butterflies she had for Sharon felt the urge to be thrown out - with tears. She cried her feeling tears, and almost could heart the sound of her heart getting broken. Her hands were cold, and the love that one day made her feel so good violently hit her brain, hurting her, it hurt her… But it wasn’t Sharon, it was the situation.

‘’Do I bother you?’’

‘’No, what? I just don’t know what bothers me, I’m just scared of making you feel bad.’’

‘’You would never make me feel bad.’’ She cried in broken sentences. ‘’You always make me feel so good.’’

Sharon was in silence again. Violet could’ve said it in a lot of moments, but of all moments she picked that one - on that sidewalk, on that dark day, crying with no air in her lungs and cold hands:

‘’I love you, I’ve always loved you Sharon Needles.’’

And she told her everything, how and why she loved her. Violet was awful with feelings that weren’t hate, but that came out so naturally of her mouth. Her love for Sharon made all the boundaries she created for herself disappear, but broke her inside - but she was setting it free, setting it free to make herself free.

‘’…I feel so vulnerable right now’’

‘’I feel something too, I just don’t know what it is.’’

Violet was losing her mind: ‘’So why don’t we come back to what we were literally before today?’’

‘’Violet…’’

‘’Why Sharon, why?’’

‘’Because I can’t keep pretending, I can’t make myself feel bad this way, even if I feel whatever I feel for you. I don’t know what this is going to end I-’’

It was like the world was burning inside of Violet, she felt her breathing not working anymore. She was sweating, shaking, and her hands were so cold that it hurt. The tears couldn’t stop falling from her eyes.

‘’…I don’t know how to deal with my feelings, I don’t want to deal with my feelings’’

She could call her a coward, but Violet knew she wasn’t. Sharon wasn’t a coward for saying that, she couldn’t blame her, she really couldn’t hate that in that moment - and this was what she hated.

‘’But what do you feel for me?’’ Violet risked.

‘’I. Don’t. Know! I’m so messed up, that’s why I don’t want to risk.’’

Everything made her want to convince Sharon to stay, even if she knew she never would..

‘’But risking can be good sometimes… It’s okay if we mess up, I love you too much for being scared of a mess.’ Violet looked down with the heat on her cheeks, being vulnerable really wasn’t her cup of tea.

‘’No Violet, it’s not okay if we mess up!’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because we fucking will hurt each other even more! Don’t you fucking see it?’’ Sharon was staring to get angry, Violet blamed herself so badly, she kept repeating how dumb she was in her head.

‘’Will you get hurt if you stay?’’ Violet asked.

The answer to her question hurt more than a hundred knives stabbing her at once:

‘’I think so.’’

Silence, all over again that cold dark day.

She didn’t remember who said goodbye first, the rest of that day was a blank to her. She didn’t remember what she ate, or who she was after Sharon Needles went out of her life and left Violet on her knees, with all the love she had for her in the palms of her hands - fading away. She didn’t remember if her parents were home, or what was on TV, but just remembered the fact she didn’t sleep, she didn’t even blink properly. No words could be said; it was like somebody took her heart out of her chest and now she had to live heartless; Violet was a love zombie, a living-dead.

After that, she didn’t go to school for a couple of weeks. And when she was strong enough to come back to school, something took her down: Sharon and all of her girls. Alaska on Monday, Willam on Tuesday, Phi Phi on Wednesday… She saw her flirting with them between walks in the hallways or quick looks at lunch. She saw her tell them the same words she told her, to hold them, to feel something for them - was that the same Sharon who weeks ago told her she couldn’t deal with anything she felt?

Violet just couldn’t stand this, so luckily when her rich godmother asked her if she wanted to finish high school in Paris she didn’t twink twice - she said goodbye to Pittsburgh forever and ever. She always imagined Sharon dating one of her flings and that always hurt her so bad. She imagined her getting married one day; she imagined being invited to the wedding or seeing a picture of one of their kids on Facebook some day…

And she blamed herself for all her life, because she couldn’t stop Sharon from loving other people. Violet felt just so selfish. She felt so selfish for feeling the worse because it wasn’t her, she wished it was her beside Sharon in her garage band shows - being the girl who was there for her. But Violet was away, and Sharon was cold to her - warm to the others.

Life found its order like this.

[…] One day later, they met in a coffee shop. Violet didn’t look flawless as she always did, but a zombie version of herself: she was wearing sweats, and her hair was tied up in a sloppy ponytail. Violet had a lot of bags under her puffy eyes, which indicated she didn’t sleep because of the amount of tears she had in them. Sharon looked good as always, but she didn’t let it distract her; she knew what was going to happen.

She knew there was no happy ending. Violet wasn’t a princess needing to be saved, and Sharon wasn’t some brave knight ready to take her out of her sadness tower. Sharon Needles would never tell her she wanted to stay, it was unlikely - that kind of stuff only happened in fiction, not in real life: real life was sad, tough, and tasted like the strong espresso Violet ordered as soon as she got the menu.

Once their coffees arrived, Sharon sighed.

‘’I thought… A lot.’’

‘’And I know you wont stay,’’ Violet replied harshly, looking at her phone.

‘’Violet…’’ She tried to hold her hand.

‘’No.’’ Violet took her hand off hers. ‘’Sharon, I love you so much-” Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes.

She had to be strong, she had to deal with Sharon’s annoying silence, she had to-

‘’Please don’t leave me.’’ Violet sobbed, changing from water to wine, she couldn’t control it anymore. Everyone was looking at them, but for once in her life she didn’t care. ‘’Don’t leave me again, Sharon, please.’’

‘’I won’t, shh, shhh.’’ She held her hand again, rubbing it with her thumb.

After all of that Sharon was calming her down. Like the rainbow before the storm, except another storm would surely come. She just wanted to kiss her, to lie down her chest, to hold her hand, to laugh with her, to have the ecstasy of love back in her veins…

‘’You will…’’

‘’I won’t leave now.’’

She knew Sharon only would leave when she calmed down. Violet didn’t hate Sharon, she never did, she never could. She knew Sharon cared about her, she knew the girl felt something - as messy as it could seem. And she knew that she was there for her, she would always be. It was like they were soulmates, in a cruel world where a magnetic camp would put them apart with the strongest forces of disgrace; poor soulmates, in this cruel world where there was no happy endings, they would have to wake up some day.

Sharon heard her crying, was there for her, and once Violet accepted it, she paid the bill and left. Violet knew she was only staying a few more days in New York, and that she would never look for her. If it was just a hookup for her she didn’t know, but she really wish she kept focused on college; she just wished she was as heartless as she pretended to be her whole life.

After Hurricane Sharon there was no rainbow; only devastation, tears, and an espresso bitter as life could be. 

[theartificialdane]

Andromeda: Maybe this year

A Melati focused Andromeda about not doing as well in high school as she had expected.  Originally inspired by “Anybody have a map” from Dear Evan Hansen.

A million thanks to @veronicasanders for not only being a fantastic beta and cowriter, but also forcing me to confront my angst for angst and do what is needed to make the story work!

{Melati...} Violet wanted to reach over the table, wanted to touch her daughters hand. {Is there something on your mind?}

Violet ran, her feet hitting the pavement, her heart beating rhythmically, her breath coming in and out, in and out. It was early morning in mid autumn, the air chilly.

Violet’s watch beeped, and she slowed down, finally stopping in front of the property she and Sutan had bought when they relocated back to America. It was a lovely three story house, a brownstone on the Upper West Side, their neighborhood one of the reasons they had picked this specific property, but the real reason was next door.

Violet could see a dim orange light from the second story window. A shadow moving around inside. Raja was already up, the woman without a doubt sitting in her study and getting some work done before everyone else woke up. Violet smiled to herself. She should have known that Raja and Sutan would find a way to buy houses right next to each other, though she suspected Jinkx had had a finger in the game since two almost identical properties had shown up at the exact same time. It was all worth it though, when she had heard her husband’s sigh of pure relief as he took his jacket off for the first time in their new house, the world finally right again for him since his twin was back where she belonged; only a single set of walls away.

Violet checked her watch, the slim fit bit on her wrist telling her that her time was a little slower than the day before. Violet had never cared about how fast she ran, she had never done it for the physical fitness, but instead the quiet that overtook her mind, the nagging voice in her head only a tiny presence at the very back of her skull, but now, she was training with an actual goal in mind. A half marathon she would be running with Shane, the watch on her wrist a gift from the man that had been consumed by the idea of doing it before he turned 45. Violet hadn’t planned on joining him, Shane having never ran before, but she had volunteered when she saw the look of pure terror on Betty’s face the moment her friend realised her husband was serious about it.

Violet opened the door to their garden, the sound of tiny paws and yiffs coming around the corner hitting her before she even had a chance to reclick the lock. Asta and Nora both looking up at with big eyes, the pugs’ small tongues out their mouth. “Don’t look like that, darlings.” Violet smiled, bending down to quickly pet each of her dogs. “You’ll get your breakfast.” Violet quickly waved to their security camera. She was unsure if it was ever watched, but she felt weird not acknowledging its presence. Fame had forced everyone to get security installed when a fan of the show had followed Sutan into the bathroom at a bar, and Violet was grateful that Fame had taken that step, the woman one no one spoke against, even when she was being paranoid or unfair since she wasn’t one to ever let anything go.

Violet opened the patio door, and Asta and Nora followed her inside as Violet finished the rest of her morning routine. Shower, hair and makeup, all before 6.30.

The next step was her least favorite part of her morning, but she knew she had to do it.

The walk to the third floor was an easy one, but the task facing her was not. Violet knocked on the door, carefully opening it, the light from the hallway shining in and hitting her sleeping daughter in her bed. Melati was burrowed under the covers, the only thing visible her dark curls. She had inherited her father’s heart for sleep and late nights, Violet sometimes waking from the sounds of Melati working away in her room. Violet turned on the lights, the light dimmers they had installed in there on Juju’s recommendation a true lifesaver.

The soft jade green walls were filled with trinkets, the curtains were closed, the door to her walk in closet opened and her clothes spread everywhere, canvases lining the wall. Melati had a craft room, the space freeing up in the house when Violet had relocated what had turned into an ever growing workshop to an actual studio space, but Melati still prefered to keep much of her stuff in her room. Her computer was still open on her desk, the screen dark.

Violet took one final deep breath, stepping into the room to wake the most terrifying creature known to man. A cranky teenager.

///

{Melati, you have to wake up.}

Melati could feel her mother's presence looming by her bed. She cracked an eye open, her phone still in hand from when she had fallen asleep texting her dad last night as he had been making his way home, promising that he’d be there by evening.

He and been gone for over two weeks, helping the Indonesian producers shoot the first edition of Asia’s Next Top Model.

{It’s 6.45..}. Melati knew why she had been woken up, but she still wished her mom would get off her back a little. She didn’t know anyone else who’s mom was as overbearing as hers. Not that she had many American friends to ask, but she was certain that no one else was still woken by their parents at 14.

{You’re riding with Auntie Raja today.}

{Do I have to?} Melati turned, looking up at her mom, standing by her bed. She had only been in high school for a little over two months, and she still hated every single second of it, none of it made better by the fact that she more often than not had to ride to school with her demonic cousins. Normally she’d go with her dad, Sutan going downtown anyway because of work, but he was an entire world away. {I’d rather ride the subway with Maggie.}

Violet cringed. She’d always hated the subway, and the fact that her daughter was so independent should have made her proud, but instead it just consumed her with worry.

{Please? I’ll text you when we get to school.}

{Fine,} Violet sighed. {10 minutes, or you’re gonna be late.}

///

Melati opened the patio, Nora and Asta shaking their feet. Melati could hear her mother in the kitchen, walking the dogs one of her responsibilities in the morning. She was just about to leave the living room to change her socks, the damp grass soaking her sneakers, when their home system dinged. Someone was calling them. Melati turned around, the caller ID a familiar bright and smiling face. Melati quickly accepted, and Courtney Act showed up on the screen. Both Asta and Nora perked up, the pugs yipping happily.

“Courtney!” Melati smiled brightly, a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Hi!” Melati wasn’t proud of it, but no matter how many times she met her, she always felt a little starstruck around Courtney. She had seen her movies almost as many times as she had seen Moana, and she had performed her songs for every school talent show when they still lived in Paris.

“Hi lovebug! How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” Melati pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. “Another day of school.” Melati laughed, the English feeling like wool in her mouth.

“Awww, hang in there, babe. It won’t last forever.”

“Thanks.” Melati felt a rush of relief. She had spent some time with Courtney and the kids in LA during the summer while Bianca and Sutan had been filming last season’s Top Model, and the whole thing had felt like a dream. One day, Courtney had taken her out for sorbet, just the two of them, and actually listened to her. Courtney was her favorite adult to talk to, the blonde always understanding.

“Is your mom around, sweet pea?”

“Uh, she’s making breakfast...”

“Oh, bummer. I was hoping to ambush her with a little project,” Courtney said, eyes twinkling with glee.

“I can tell her you called,” Mel said, smiling. “So… I read that you’re leaving your talk show? Is that true?”

“It’s true. I’m stepping down at the end of the year.”

“Really? Why! I love your show,” Mel told her.

A smile pulled at the corner of Courtney’s mouth as she said, “Well...let’s just say that I’m trying to be a supportive wife.”

“A supportive wife?” Mel’s brow furrowed, confused. What did that have to do with her show?

“No no,” Courtney said with a giggle. “I’ve already revealed too much! But you’ll find out soon eno- Violet!” Melati saw Courtney wave, a grin on her face. “Good morning!”

Melati turned, her mother coming out from the kitchen.

“You’re awfully chipper.” Violet walked over, a note of mild irritation in her voice. “Is this about your email?” Melati knew her mother hated having her routine interrupted, but she was still being overly hostile.

“I’m great, thanks, and how you you?” Courtney said.

“Is it so important that you can’t wait? You have kids yourself, you know how mornings are-”

Melati bristeled. She was 14, that meant she was only two years away from getting a driver's license, and four years away from college. {I’m not a kid.}

Violet turned to Melati. {I didn’t mean-}

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Courtney smiled, holding up her hands. “But I just couldn’t wait.”

“For what?” Violet had crossed her arms, her eyes narrow as she watched the screen. “I think my reply to your request was perfectly clear.”

“Listen. I know you don’t want to design kids’ clothes.”

“That is one way to phrase my direct decline.”

“Right, but that’s not what I’m asking for. I was just hoping that you’d do some low key consulting. It could even be anonymous. You know how much I value your input-”

“I’m not a children’s designer, Courtney.”

Melati rolled her eyes, falling back on the couch. Sometimes she felt like her mom spent so much more time telling people what she didn’t want to do compared to what she actually did. Melati knew Violet designed couture, that almost everything her mother made was sold and designed directly for her clients. She knew the waiting list for Violet Chachki's time was miles long and that the chance of getting an appointment almost non-existent, but that didn’t excuse being so rude to someone Melati cared about.

“Okay, I hear you, but please, Vi, just take a quick peek before you give me a final answer!  I mean I got to Amsterdam this morning and they showed me some of the samples and they are just so cute! Like look at this, you think it’s just a little gender neutral pea coat but then look closer and THE BUTTONS ARE DISCO BALLS!! And then there’s-”

Without even looking, Violet grabbed the remote and hung up, cutting Courtney off mid sentence.

{You just hung up on Courtney Act!} Melati knew her mouth was hanging open, her jaw slack with surprise.

{I did.}

{You can’t do that!}

{Actually, I can.} Violet looked at her watch. {You have to get going. Are you sure about the sub-}

Melati crossed her arms. {You were really rude. She’s supposed to be your friend.}

{Go brush your teeth.}

////

Violet had just finished making breakfast when Melati came down the stairs, this time dressed for the day in a soft cream sweater and jeans, her curly hair collected in a half bun. She was wearing pearl earrings, a thin gold bracelet and a ring Violet had given her.

Melati grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge, dumping her backpack on the floor as she sat down at the table, her teenager still prickly from the mornings conversation. Violet liked Courtney, had maybe even come to love her, but the blonde was still much like the devil. Give her a finger, and she’d take your entire arm and Violet did not have time for Courtney’s project, not when Melati acted like a porcupine ready to fight whenever Violet dared say anything to her.

{Do you have to throw your things?}

{What?} Melati barely even looked up, her eyes occupied with checking the French news on the kitchen screen. Violet sighed as she sat down, Melati obviously ignoring her. Violet hated how much tech that had made its way into their house, Sutan always hopping on whatever the latest trend was with enthusiasm while Violet would happily have prefered a home with no electronics at all. At least she had managed to keep their bedroom a screen free zone, though keeping Sutan away from his work email often turned into an uphill battle. Violet placed her hand in Melati’s field of vision, the teen finally looking up before she repeated her words.

{Do you have to throw your things?}

{Does it matter?}

Violet looked at the bag. It was a designer backpack, the thing a gorgeous black with thick rims and leather that had clearly been cared for and crafted lovingly.Violet hated the look of how her daughter was mistreating it, Melatis laptop and her books distorting the shape. It had been given to Melati by Raven, a ‘welcome to american high school’ gift. When Violet protested at the extravagance of it, Raven informed her that it was very important - Heaven forbid Melati get bullied at school for having the wrong school bag. Violet relented, although she suspected that Raven’s idea of high school bullies was a little out of touch.

{It does.}

Melati rolled her eyes, but then picked up her bag, putting it on the chair next to her. Violet desperately wished Sutan was home, her husband a master at navigating Melati’s moods. Her daughter as prickly as a cactus most days when Violet only wanted to soothe and understand, though Juju had insisted that was just how teenagers were. But although Violet could begrudgingly accept a certain degree of surliness, it seemed like this week had been especially unpleasant. Her kind, loving, enthusiastic daughter was suddenly slamming doors, refusing dinner and not answering direct questions. Something was wrong.

{Melati...} Violet wanted to reach over the table, wanted to touch her daughters hand. {Is there something on your mind?}

{No.} Mel snatched her hand back.

{Okay...} Violet retreated.

Melati finished her juice, the clock nearing 7.30, which meant they had to get going. Melati picked up her bowl and took it to the sink while Violet did the same, her own breakfast almost untouched. She’d text her assistant later and ask for some breakfast, though she wasn’t sure the hunger would come, her stomach turning into a knot. Violet missed Sutan more than she wanted to say, but she was also happy her husband was traveling the world and chasing his dreams, though it kind of beat the purpose of why they had moved continents in the first place.

{Do you want me to send a car to pick you up after school? I have to stay late at work.} Violet had never planned on running a studio of her own, to have people that depended on her and wanted to have meetings and hear her opinion on things she genuinely didn’t care about, but it had become her life, and her team did give her the opportunity to do things she never would have accomplished on her own.

{I’m going to Maggie’s.}

{Again?} {What's wrong with Maggie?} {Nothing.} Violet tightened her robe. {It's just, maybe you should try making more friends in your class, someone you haven’t grown up with-} {I wish /Dad/ was here...}

Violet barely heard it, the words whispered under Melati’s breath. She reached for her daughter, attempting to give her a hug, but Mel ducked away, picking up her backpack and heading to the door, barely glancing over her shoulder as she grunted out a goodbye.

////

Melati descended into the subway, scanning the platform for Maggie’s tiny body and sparkly blue backpack.

“MelMel! Over here!” Maggie waved excitedly, a ball of energy as always. Her brown bob, orange sweater, matching miniskirt and huge glasses making her stand out amongst all the other uptown commuters. Maggie jumping up and down as if they hadn’t seen each other in years was so cute that it was /almost/ not embarassing.

“Hey Mags.” Mel leaned in to give her friend - or rather, her ‘almost cousin,’ as they called each other - a hug.

Maggie adjusted her glasses, asking, “Sooo… How was your night?”

“Okay.” Melati bit her lip. VIolet hadn’t been home because of a fitting until after dinner, so she had spent the afternoon in her room with Asta and Nora, working away. “I almost finished my collage, but then I accidentally fell into a black hole on Youtube. Did you know that the world's biggest species of bumble bees come from South Africa and is called Bombus Dahlbomii?”

“Cool. Weird, but cool,” Maggie said.

Mel smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the whoosh of air as their train approached.

“Aaaand…” Maggie said, linking arms with Mel as they entered the subway car. “... did you talk to your mom about that English test yet?”

“Ugh, no way.” Melati knew the question would come, but that didn’t make it any better. “Are you kidding?” Maggie had been bugging her about it all week, but there was no way Melati would willingly walk into the lion’s den.

“It probably won’t be as bad as you think. I know I was really freaked last year when I got a B in Spanish, but my moms were so sweet about it. Alaska ended up taking me to the spa to de-stress.”

“Yeah, well, that’s your family.” Melati crossed her legs, the sense that everyone around them could listen to their conversation extremely uncomfortable. “Your moms aren’t uptight like mine. And I didn’t get a B. I got a D. A /D/, Maggie!” Melati sighed. “She’s going to /murder/ me.”

Maggie took a deep breath and stood in front of Melati’s chair. She placed both hands on her shoulders, singing sweetly and earnestly, “/Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens… bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens-/”

“Maggie…” Mel hissed, glancing around at the subway car self-consciously. It was great that Maggie was so confident and unconcerned with what everyone else thought, but Mel didn’t mind blending in. In fact, she preferred it.

“/..Brown paper packages tied up with strings. These are a few of my favorite things!/...Did that help? A little Julie Andrews magic?”

“No.” Maggie kept staring at her, her brown eyes expecting and filled with mischief. “Besides.. That movie is only.. I don’t understand why you love it so much? It’s not that good.”

Maggie gasped dramatically, and then made the sign of the cross, clasping her hands together. “She didn’t mean it, Julie!”

Melati blushed and pulled Maggie back into her seat. “Why are you making a cross? Aren’t you Jewish?”

“Jinkx says that the Church of Julie is non denominational.”

“Ugh, I wish my dad were here,” Mel sighed, hugging her backpack to her chest, her exam inside it almost burning. Melati hated keeping secrets, and this was growing bigger each day.

“Like, back in New York, or here with us on this Subway car?” Maggie joked.

“My mom is just so impossible!” Melati exclaimed. “And, she said that I’m hanging out with you too much.”

“... She said what? But I thought your mom loved me? Remember that time she almost smiled in my general direction?” Maggie did a little shimmy, making Mel chuckle.

“Okay, she’s not that bad. She just wants me to make new friends.” The train lurched forward and Mel nearly fell out of her seat, grabbing a pole nearby. “But how am I supposed to make new friends when my cousins have already told everyone I’m a weirdo?” Tanya and Isolde Amrull were seniors. Seniors in the way Melati had only seen on movies. They were ever popular, dressed every day as if school was their personal runway, a group of people always around them to get their approval or to hope they rubbed off on them. Melati had only been in the school a few months, but she had already seen hoop earrings disappear from one day to the next, since Isolde had said they were over during a lunch period.

“Well, first of all, you are a weirdo, but in the very, very best way. And second, Tanya and Isolde are the /worst/, so only total assholes would believe them. And you don’t want to be friends with assholes, right?”

“I guess not.”

“So, when’s your dad getting home anyway?” Maggie asked, leaning a head on her shoulder.

“Tonight… I really didn’t want to deal with this on his first night back, but...I think I have to.”

“Or you could just like… Never tell them?”

Melati smiled, the train stopping. “That’s good… Let’s call that Plan A.”

///

Violet sighed, looking over the printouts she had made her assistant do of the several emails Courtney had sent her. The collection was...Violet didn’t know what it was, except hideous, but Violet also didn’t know anything about children’s clothes. Melati had thankfully never requested glitter slippers or bunny shirts. Violet had no idea why Courtney had requested her advice. The only thing she really knew anything about was fabrics, and as she was running through the different suggestions from the Dutch company, her brows shot higher and higher since most of it would be terrible for toddlers. Cotton in colors that would stain horribly, nylon so close to the skin it would irritate, and shoes so narrow it could impact the shape of a baby foot. Violet was two pages into an email, detailing everything that was wrong, when her phone rang.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Violet put the phone under her chin, her private phone only for family members and the very few people Violet considered friends.

“What are you working on?”

“What?”

“I can hear the pencil.”

Violet looked down, a small laugh leaving her as she had not even realised she had been sketching away on her notepad, creating a new version of the jackets for Courtney’s line.

“I’m sorry.” Violet put it down, quickly flipping over the paper and turning her chair around so she was looking out on the street instead of her computer. She could hear Sutan chuckle, but also the bone deep tired of her husband's voice. “How far are you?”

“Made it to LA. Boarding in 30.”

Violet felt a hot surge in her stomach, her cheeks blushing instantly at how stupid she felt. They had been married for almost 15 years, and she still didn’t feel right when Sutan wasn’t with her, her excitement to have him home after two long weeks prickling in her fingertips.

“God I hate this fucking airport.”

Violet laughed, knowing exactly how much Sutan hated LAX.

“I’m in the worst mood, I’m sorry.”

“We can get pizza tonight? If you want?” Violet knew Sutan would most likely be dead to the world the moment he touched down in New York, her husband never sleeping well on planes because of his height. If she was lucky, he’d be up and about when she got home that night, and the promise of pizza even if sober Violet didn’t enjoy it much, was a certain way to get Sutan to do pretty much anything.

Sutan groaned, and Violet could almost hear how he sunk a little deeper into his seat. “I love you. You know how much I like traditional Indonesian, but nothing beats a double pepperoni”

Violet smiled, her fingers tapping against her chair. “Love you too.”  

“So.. I read your texts.”

“Ah.” Violet could hear the change in Sutan’s voice instantly, and she knew she only really had herself to blame. She had messaged him from her closet, her body almost shaking when Melati had left the house that morning, her daughters words still ringing in her ears.

“I know you’re worried.”

“I-”

“But Violet, I promise you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There is.” Violet said. “There has to be something wrong Sutan, you haven’t spent time with her, she’s.. She’s never been like this before. She talks back /every/ chance she gets.”

“Like every other teenager in history?”

Violet bristled, the smile in Sutan’s voice not helping her mood at all.

“This isn’t normal.” Violet knew she hadn’t exactly had the normal experience of being a teenager, the ballet academies indisputable hierarchy and the pure time it took to not only manage a fulltime job but also keep her physical fitness up had meant she had never had anyone to argue with where she could win, no skipping school or drinking in the parking lot, but there was something called basic respect, and even if Melati was a teenager, she was still her child, their child, their sweet and kind girl. “Something is bothering her, something extra, I just... I know it.”

“A mother's intuition?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” Violet sighed. She knew Sutan was only trying to make things better, but most of the time Melati was a completely different girl around him, her father never making mistakes in her eyes, even though Sutan’s job was the true reason they relocated back to America.

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Thank you.”

///

Melati unlocked the front door, dropping her key in the bowl by the door. The house was quiet, just as she had expected, her mom rarely showing up until after it was dark outside when she said she was working late, but Melati had still hoped someone would be home, since she had gone to Maggie's after school. Alaska had been there, the tall blonde chatting away in her slow drawl while Maggie had happily reenacted everything that had happened at drama club and Melati had sipped her tea.  

Melati was just about to take her shoes off, when she bumped into something. It was her dad's suitcases, the four bags taking up the entire hallway. A surge of happiness rushed through her, and Melati bolted for the stairs, her shoes still on.

[DAD!]

She threw open the door to her parents bedroom, fully expecting to see her father underneath the covers. The room was small, heavy curtains keeping out the sunlight, and dominated by a king sized bed, a set of double doors leading to her parents closets and their bathroom, but the bed was empty though also unmade, which meant he had to be somewhere in the house. Melati took another set of stairs, her dads office on the other end of the floor from her bedroom. Melati stopped in front of the door, the muffled sound of music coming from inside. Melati knocked three times, waiting for a reply.

[Come in puppet!]

Melati opened the door, looking inside her father’s office. [How did you know it was me?] Melati stepped inside, feels calm. A bookshelf lining one wall filled with Batman memorabilia, heavy oak dominating the room, small bar, stacks of magazines and things Sutan’s current and former models have worked on.

[Mama never knocks like that.] Sutan turned in his chair, and pushing his glasses up, and opened his arms.

Mel rushed over for a hug. Sutan laughed, kissing the top of her head and pulling her into his lap. He turned the chair back around, facing his computer.

[I’m just ordering pizza for tonight.]

[Really?]

[Mmh. Which one do you want?]

[Spinach please.] They sat together for a while, Sutan absentmindedly asking Melati how her day had been, the two just enjoying each others company when Melati realized that she was still wearing her backpack and stood up. [Actually... Dad?]

[Changed your mind?]

[No. I... I got back my grade from that test last week. You know, the English exam?]

[You did? Anything fun to share?] Sutan smiled. [Shall I call the framers?] Melati sighed. Normally her dad’s teasing and enthusiasm would make her happy, but today it just grated on her nerves.

[Just read it. Please.] Melati handed the blue book to Sutan, watching nervously as he grabbed his glasses and flipped to the back, reading the first grade she had ever gotten that was below a B+. Melati had no idea how her mom would react, but she was counting on her dad to be the calm one, and hopefully help her break the news to her mom. Maybe even offer to do it for her if she was really lucky.

[Well, that’s disappointing.] Sutan looked up. [Is this grade correct?]

[What?] Melati hadn’t even realised how small her voice sounded. [Umh... Yes. Yes it is.]

[Did you study? Or did you expect to skate by without any work? Because that’s not going to cut it at this school.]

[Yes! Yes I studied! I tried my best. I...I guess I just didn’t understand the book and-]

[Well, you’ll have to do better. When I was your age, I had two jobs, and I still managed to get straight As. There’s no reason for anyone as smart as you to get grades like this.] Sutan shook the pages of the blue book for emphasis.

Melati stared at her dad. Her laid back dad, who had always told her to just try and try again, who walked through life as if everything always worked out for him. Melati had never been asked to take a job, had never even considered it since she used so much of her time on her art. Melati had expected her mother to be the one to tell her these things, to be the one who ignored how she had tried, telling her it wasn’t good enough, but here her dad was, looking at her as if she had somehow done this on purpose.

[And if you need help, you tell us. We’re not paying for one of the best schools in the country so that you can just-]

[I didn’t know I needed help!] Melati yelled, Sutan growing quiet instantly. [It’s not my fault, I tried! I really tried!] Melati had had been to every class, taken diligent notes, read the texts multiple times, had even discussed them with Maggie - but somehow, in the classroom, with the seconds ticking down, it was like everything had slipped from her mind. Her thoughts were a confusing jumble of three languages and twisted phrases, and none of it came out right on the page. [It’s - it’s this stupid language and not enough time and I don’t understand why we’re even living here!]

[Melati-]

[I hate this country! I hate it, I HATE it!]

Sutan stood up, holding up his hands in surrender. [Calm down, and we can talk about this-] His voice was calm, even, like everything she had said didn’t matter to him at all.

[Calm down?! Do you even understand anything?!] Melati’s voice had reached a shrill, fevered pitch. She felt like an animal in a cage. Trapped against her will. [Of course not! Of course you don’t because no one cares about me!]

[Melati.]

[Why don’t you just leave again like you always do?!]

Sutan swallowed. He had never seen his daughter like this, fat tears streaming down Melati’s cheeks. Before he could attempt a response, Violet appeared in the doorway, her coat still on, her keys still in hand like she had run upstairs the moment she got home.

{What’s going on?} Violet asked, {I heard yelling, is everyone okay?}

“We’re only talking, lovely eyes, just give us-”

{No! No! It’s not fair, it’s not- it’s not!} Melati whirled around, her fists clenched in anger.

{Little darling, I-} Violet didn’t know what she had expected, but Melati flinging herself into her arms, sobbing like she had as a kid when she was consumed with worry and missing her dad, was not anywhere on the list. Violet grabbed Melati, pressing her cheek to the top of her head, rocking her back and forth, holding her closer than she had in years. {What’s going on?}

“It appears we’re fighting.”

“‘A mother's intuition’ huh? What about a father’s?” Violet shot Sutan a dirty look, her husband visibly cringing, though she couldn’t entirely blame him. She couldn’t remember the last time Melati had yelled, and least of all at Sutan. Mel said something, the sounds of it muffled in Violet’s coat.

Sutan cleared his throat. “We were just discussing her grade.”

“And that leads to my daughter crying?”

“She got a D, and I was just telling her she needs to take school seriously if she ever wants to-”

“She’s a child, a teenager, not a robot. I know you got into UCLA but-”

“She needs to work hard if she wants to-”

“Sutan, just- Melati.” Violet gently took Melati’s face, turning it up. {Why didn’t you tell me, puppet?}

{You’re… not mad?} Mel gulped, breath hitching. {I thought you’d be mad..}

{Over this?} Violet wrapped her arms more tightly around her daughter. {It’s just a test.} Her whole body felt lighter, the relief that Mel’s problem was a simple academic one flowing through her, filling her with gratitude. {I know you’ve worked so hard.}

{I did... I promise I did} Melati wiped her face, clearly both ashamed and embarrassed over the yelling Violet had heard from downstairs though she had no idea what had been said. {Everything is so different from the other school and I can’t... I don’t know...}

Melati felt a touch on her shoulder, Sutan’s hand closing around it. [I’m sorry I’m an idiot.] Melati turned, looking up at her dad. [You’re right. I’m not around a whole bunch. You didn’t chose this move and you didn’t chose an American high school, but we’re not leaving, and I just want you do to do well.]

Melati nodded. [I know...] She pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, very aware at how both her parents were looking at her. [I think...a tutor might be a good idea...]

[I’m sorry for going all...tiger mom on you.] Sutan smiled, still looking extremely apologetic.

[It wasn’t your shining moment.] Melati told him.

[Yeah..]  Sutan hugged her tightly. [Sorry.]

///

{What are we watching?} Violet sat down, Melati and Sutan both grabbing their pizza boxes and opening them at the exact same time.

{Glimmer!}

Violet looked at her daughter, Sutan pressing play on the ever familiar movie. {You get to pick any movie you want, and you pick Courtney’s Disney debut?}

{With the English audio. It’s educational, Mama}

{Yes Violet. It’s educational.}

Sutan laughed, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. Violet grabbed her plate, picking a piece of Sutan’s pizza out of his box, her husband and daughter back to being two peas in a pod. As she settled in, Sutan’s arm behind her back, she felt a sense of peace fall over her. Nothing was perfect, but Melati was okay, and her problem was fixable. Everything would be okay, and they would get through it together, Melati getting everything she never had.

[artificialqueens]

Do You See What I See? (Jinkx/Dela) - Sammy Indigo

A/N: Read as Jinkx and Dela attempt to control their staff. Also, Dela enjoys tinsel as a scarf.

It’s only November third when Dela walks into the main meeting room on floor seventeen, with eight minutes to spare, dressed head to toe in Christmas apparel.

Tacky Christmas apparel.

Some of it isn’t even clothing.

Jinkx grimaces at the headband adorned with LED fairy lights. Dela grins as she gently places her briefcase down at the head of the table and flicks something behind her ear. The lights begin flashing a rainbow of gaud, the reflection catching on her glasses.

On leaving the house earlier in the morning, Dela had been dressed in her usual dark pencil skirt and blazer. The suspiciously large lunch bag she had toted into the car with her, now makes sense, although Jinkx is slightly confused as to how she managed to miss Dela packing tinsel hair pieces and bauble earrings into the cooler at home.

Jinkx continues to openly stare. Dela is wearing sparkly red tights under a sweater dress featuring a snowman. The snowman’s carrot nose is disturbingly 3D and protrudes very closely to Jinkx’s face as Dela takes her place standing next to her chair.

The intern sitting two seats to Jinkx’s right coughs and seems to choke on his own spit.

“Calm down, Giovanni.” Jinkx hears Violet say from next to her.

The coughing intern composes himself. Violet sighs loudly. Latrice walks into the room, takes one look at Dela, and walks back out again. Sharon is supposed to be setting up the projector for the meeting, but stops in favour of leaning against the far wall, arms folded, and black lips pursed in judgement.

Jinkx sighs when she spots Dela’s scarf is actually a string of golden tinsel. When she looks closely, Jinkx can see where Dela’s neck is beginning to become irritated by the plastic; little red bumps turning into blotches even as watches. Dela seems not to notice, or at least not to care.

Dela removes her jacket, (a seemingly once understated red trench that Jinkx had been planning on wearing at some point in the spring during their vacation to D.C., now adorned with hand-applied strips of green ribbon) and does a little twirl for the people in the room.

Farrah claps, and Vixen gives her a withering look before going back to whatever she’s typing out on her laptop.

“Well?” Dela prompts, when no one else contributes. “What do we think?”

Farrah squeals. “Oh, so festive!” She claps again. “Miss Dela you look wonderful!”

“Thank you so much, Farrah.” Dela says brightly, still standing at the head of the boardroom table. “I’m glad you seem to think so.” She glares very briefly in Jinkx’s direction. “The rest of you are just scrooges.”

“No.” Sharon says, going back to fiddle with the projector. “The rest of us just happen to own a calendar.”

“Exactly!” Dela says. “’Tis the holiday season!”

“Tis November third.” Sharon says.

There are red and green pompoms somehow sitting snugly in Dela’s black bun. There’s a sprig of fake mistletoe woven in her hair, too.

Jinkx eventually speaks up. “Hanukkah is closer than Christmas.” She sounds exhausted, unintentionally, despite the fact that she slept for nine hours last night.

Dela pushes up her sweater dress sleeves to reveal a blue and white striped shirt that falls to her mid thigh. Jinkx suddenly realises that the sparkly tights are actually stockings, and the shape of the suspenders can be seen under the shirt when she looks closely. Jinkx tries to hide the fact that she’s blushing. She clears her throat and Dela smirks, throwing her a wink.

“Blue and white for my baby.” Dela says. “Hanukkah. Got you covered, Jinkxy.” She blows her a kiss.

Jinkx rolls her eyes but can’t contain the half smile that makes her cheeks ache as she tries to supress it, the blush slowly subsiding.

Violet sighs loudly, again. “Gross.”

“No it’s not.” Farrah squeaks. “It’s sweet. I think it’s adorable.”

“Thank you, Farrah.” Dela says.

Vixen smirks at her laptop. “Kiss ass.”

Jinkx snickers and Dela glares at her for real this time.

“Some professionalism, please.” Dela says and claps her hands once to get their attention. “We’re in the workplace, remember, and I am your boss.”

“Professionalism?” Sharon scoffs. “You’re dressed like the inside of Santa’s asshole.”

Giovanni bursts out laughing and claps a hand over his mouth. Violet rolls her eyes and Vixen’s shoulders are shaking behind her laptop.

Dela looks less than amused so Jinkx tried to make intimidating eye contact with each person in the room. They all begin composing themselves, pulling out notepads and reference articles to prepare for the meeting. Except Sharon.

Sharon switches on the projector with a press of her remote without looking away from Dela. When she slowly makes her way to her own seat, Dela thanks her in an overly sweet voice that doesn’t fool Jinkx for a second. Sharon’s eyes are so narrowed they’re almost closed.

“Alright, now that we’re all here-,”

“Latrice isn’t.” Farrah says innocently.

Sharon interrupts. “Latrice has no time for this level of unprofessionalism.”

Dela smiles at her. “Do you want to spend Christmas unemployed?” She snaps once more in the tooth rottingly sweet tone that Jinkx has learned to fear.

All eyes flick to Sharon, who sits up slightly straighter in her seat. “You’re too nice. You never fire anyone.” She says.

“Maybe so.” Dela agrees, still smiling and pulling out her chair to take a seat. “But Jinkx does.” She touches Jinkx’s hand on the table. “Right, sweetheart?”

Jinkx gives Sharon her best ‘mean face’. “Alaska would be pretty mad if you got fired.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Sharon says.

“Wouldn’t I?” Jinkx grins.

Giovanni is looking between them in awe.

Everyone else in the room has gone back to preparing for the meeting, bored with the confrontation that most of them are used to by this point. Giovanni’s still pretty new. Jinkx isn’t entirely sure that they haven’t scarred him for life at this point with all the fiascos that go down on a daily basis at the company, but he’s apparently known Sharon since he was eight, so some mental scarring has probably already occurred, anyway.

“I fucking hate you both.” Sharon says. “You know that? Right? It’s fucking November.”

Giovanni gasps like he’s watching a telenovela.

Violet and Vixen are quietly discussing the merits of double entry in the latest account they’ve been focusing on. Farrah is going over the latest audit report, highlighting in a bright pink marker.

Dela smirks. “November is only one month before December. Don’t forget that, miss ‘I wear pumpkin earrings year round’.”

Sharon flushes in a rare show of sensitivity and pulls her hands up to her ears. “Alaska bought me these.” She rubs the little studs under her thumbs.

Dela smiles, genuinely, this time. She squeezes Jinkx’s hand. “And Jinksy bought me these.” She points to the flashing headpiece.

“Um,” Jinkx says, “no I didn’t.”

“You’re undermining me, sweetheart.”

Jinkx shakes her head. “I love you, but I am not being held responsible for,” she looks Dela up and down, “this.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a classy girl.” Jinkx says. “Not tacky.”

Sharon scoffs at the same time as Dela, and Violet looks up from her work to nod her agreement.

Under his breath, Giovanni whispers, “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry.” Jinkx says, addressing the whole room, despite the fact that Farrah and Vixen are completely ignoring her in favour of their work, “are you insinuating that I am not classy?”

Dela tries to pull her in for a kiss. “We’re not insinuating anything, darling.”

“No.” Sharon says. “We’re saying it outright.”

Giovanni gapes at her. “Lasky’s gonna kill you.”

Sharon grins at him.

Jinkx bares her teeth. “Not if I get to her first.”

“So,” Vixen says, still looking at her computer, are we all agreed that the best way to go is double entry, despite the extra cost of hours?”

No one replies to her.

“Guys?” She tries again, glancing up. On seeing the stand off happening between Sharon and Jinkx, she rolls her eyes. “Why are we even having this meeting?” She mutters. “What’s the point?”

“Now,” Dela speaks with an air of authority that makes Giovanni sit up in his chair, “stop this, both of you.” She glares at Sharon and Jinkx equally. “We need to be professional.”

“Fire her!” Violet coughs from behind her hand.

Sharon throws the projector remote at her. “Shut your whore mouth, Chachki.”

“I didn’t even say anything, you witch.”

“Oh, you just wait until you want to borrow my clothes again-,”

“As if! I would never wear anything you call ‘fashion’.”

“That’s not what you said when you came crying to my door asking for help with what to wear on your first date with-,”

“I was talking to Alaska, you old tired goth!”

Sharon points at her. “How the fuck dare you.”

Violet shrugs.

“I gave you my vintage Spooky Kids shirt.” Sharon shakes her head. “That’s a prized possession and I gifted it to you.”

“Whatever.” Violet flicks her long ponytail over her shoulder. “It’s probably not even vintage.”

Farrah drops her pink highlighter in shock.

Violet smirks. “I don’t even like Marilyn Manson.”

Farrah gasps loudly. The rest of the room falls silent.

“And,” Violet says, with a little shit eating smirk, “I gave it to Goodwill, anyway.”

“No!” Farrah yells.

Sharon stands from her chair. “You didn’t.”

Violet folds her arms and gives Sharon a measured look. “I did.”

Dela hides her face in her hand. “Oh, God.” The flashing LED headband slips over her eyes.

“Violet.” Sharon says slowly. “Take. That. Back.”

Jinkx jabs Violet in the side with her pen. “Fuck, Violet. Just tell her you’re lying before she hits you.”

Violet looks at the ceiling, breathes once, then looks back to Sharon. “I’m lying.” She says in monotone.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

Sharon points at her. “Prove to me that you still have it, or I’m telling Dela what you did in the fourth floor bathroom with-,”

“Ah!” Violet shouts, standing up and almost launching herself across the table at Sharon. “Shut up, shut up!”

Sharon smirks. “Prove you have the shirt, Violet.”

Dela looks at Jinkx. “What did she do in the bathroom and with who?”

“I have no idea.” Jinkx mutters. “But I can’t fucking wait to find out.”

“Look, look.” Violet holds her phone out to Sharon. “See. This was two days ago. I’m wearing it. See.”

Everyone in the room watches as Sharon takes the phone from her and considers the photograph. A collective sigh of relieve occurs when Sharon gives one decisive nod, and hands the phone back.

“Okay.” She says. “I believe you. You bitch.”

Vixen nods. “Right, so, now that no one is being murdered today, are we going to discuss accounting…no…?” She looks to Dela. “This meeting going to cover anything other than festive fashion and Sharon’s stupid goth shirts.”

“Hey!”

Dela holds up a finger. “Wait, what happened in the fourth floor bathroom?”

“Nothing.” Violet says far too quickly.

“Not what Adore told me.” Giovanni says.

Violet hits him.

“What?” He says, moving his chair closer to Jinkx. “Adore told me, that Courtney told her, that Pearl-,”

Violet reaches over the distance he’s created to slap him on the arm again. “Giovanni, I swear to fuck, if you don’t shut up-,”

“What happened?” Dela asks, again. She turns to Jinkx. “We are totally discussing this over wine tonight.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Violet, I’m your boss, you know you can tell me anything.” Dela says.

“Um, no thank you.”

Sharon smirks. “A little selfish of you to keep such a good story from the group, Vi.”

Farrah smiles, all innocent if it weren’t for the twinkle in her eyes. “That’s not fair, Sharon. From what I hear, Violet is very giving.”

Sharon, Giovanni, and Farrah all go hysterical at the same time. Violet grabs her planner from the desk and storms towards the door. “Fuck all of you!”

Dela watches her leave. She turns to the rest of them. “She was talking to you guys.”

A few seconds pass and Sharon sits back down in her chair, propping her feet up on the table. She leans back, inspecting her nails.

Dela clears her throat. “Let’s all do a little prep, and we’ll begin the meeting in five.”

They all go back to their files and reports. Sharon pulls up the presentation on the projector.

All is quiet.

And then,

“Violet ate Pearl’s ass in the second cubicle of the fourth floor bathroom.” Vixen says. She doesn’t even blink. “Can we talk about accounting now?”

[artificialqueens]

The Fandom from Hell 1&2/2 (Trixie/Acid) - Spoky

A/N: First time trying to write Acid Betty and got some help with that from the wonderful Lucy. Her Thorcid is perfect, it’s beautiful, it reads like Linda Evangelista and I totally use her characterisation as a model. You can blame Dandee for chapter two being a thing and that I ended up posting this here.

Summary: RPDR fans have a problem with Acid Betty. Little do they know that it’s Trixie who has to deal with the aftermath.

The Fandom from Hell, ½

Trixie was sitting at the living room sofa, restringing her guitar, when a quiet click of the front door stirred her from her thoughts. The silence was suspicious.

“Jamin?” she called out and placed the guitar carefully on the coffee table.

There was no reply but she could hear someone moving in the apartment.

She’d gotten used to the different sounds of New York this week, and even learned to embrace Acid’s over enthusiastic greetings whenever the man got home from work. It wasn’t that Trixie didn’t like being cuddled, kissed and complimented. She just hadn’t expected Jamin to be that type of person and it had taken some days to get used to it. Before this week’s visit their relationship, if one could call it that, had consisted of quick blowjobs in different backstage toilets, dressing rooms and hotels - places and situations where Jamin’s character hadn’t necessarily been presented in the most positive or comprehensive ways.

“Jamin?” Trixie called again, now starting to wonder what to do if someone had actually broken into the apartment.

The bathroom door closed and Trixie could hear the tab being turned on. Either this thief had a complex case of OCD, or it really was Acid in the bathroom. She walked to the door and knocked gently.

“Hey, you okay?” she said and hoped that if there really was an OCD-thief in the apartment, they weren’t carrying a gun.

She could hear the thief clearing their throat before revealing their identity as Trixie’s… boyfriend? She wasn’t sure the label was appropriate but it would have to do.

“Hey! Yeah, I’m good. Just, just give me a minute alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Trixie said and worried her lower lip. What had happened?

She listened the water running for what felt like hours but more likely was closer to a minute or two. When Jamin finally stepped out from the bathroom he was smiling widely, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“There!” he said with a bright tone. “All done. Dinner?”

He walked straight into the kitchen, without giving Trixie the usual greeting hug or a kiss; both being gestures Trixie now realised she had grown accustomed to and wanted. She followed his steps with a suspicious frown.

“Yeah, I could eat,” she said and leaned to the kitchen counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “How was work?”

“Oh, it was great!”

Jamin launched into an explanation about their newest website client who seemed open for new, innovative solutions in regards to design.

“The possibilities are endless, there are so many different layers we can work with. We tried it with AJAX and it looks so good! Though, it makes more sense for it to be more of a CMS type of solution, but it was like stacking four pairs of 24 millimeter lashes and making sure it still works, you know?“

Trixie found it adorable how Jamin would move between makeup and coding lingo, when he talked about his work. Though she hoped that the man wasn’t doing it in his office with customers. The fact that Trixie was struggling to make sense of what Jamin was actually saying allowed her to pay more attention to the man himself and as he very discreetly wiped away a tear that had escaped, pretending just to scratch his nose, Trixie took notice.

“Hey’hey’hey,” she said gently, pushed Jamin against the stove and forced him to look at her. “What’s going on?”

Jamin swallowed and refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly.

“It’s clearly not nothing,” Trixie insisted and took Jamin’s face between her palms, stroking his stubble with her thumbs.

“I think I’m quitting,” Jamin said softly and closed his eyes.

“What?” Trixie asked, completely shocked. “You can’t quit. It’s your company. I mean I guess you could sell it, but…”

“No, I mean drag,” Jamin said, peeking at Trixie between his lashes.

“Why would you do that?” Trixie asked, but had already a list of possible answers in her mind.

Jamin was silent, clearly not wanting to elaborate on what had happened.

“Look, honey, you do drag for you, not for anyone else,” Trixie said and knew that the statement wasn’t entirely true. Drag was there to be looked at, there was no art without an audience. That didn’t mean the art needed to please everyone, or anyone for that matter. “It’s your art. It’s your way to express your feelings and your views, and if someone doesn’t like it, they are allowed that opinion, but their opinion doesn’t define you, or your art.”

Jamin pulled Trixie closer, wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his chin against her shoulder.

“I know.”

“I know you know. You just forgot for a moment.”

They stayed in the hug for a while longer but eventually Trixie sighed.

“Look, I’m hungry. I want food, I want to finish restringing my guitar and I want your cock up my bum – preferably, but not necessarily, in that order. What do you say?”

Acid chuckled against Trixie’s neck and pressed an open mouthed kiss onto her collarbone.

“I’ll cook, you go string and I’ll see what we can do about the last part later,” he said, squeezing Trixie’s bum with both hands.

“What an excellent distribution of labour,” Trixie smirked and kissed Jamin hard before walking back to the living room.

Somedays RuPaul’s Drag Race fans really fucking sucked, but fortunately the damage they caused was often easily fixed with a brief reality check.

_____________

The Fandom from Hell, 2/2.  

[ Lyrics from Big Bang - Sober ]

Trixie stirred from her sleep and the digital alarm clock on the nightstand informed her it to be just over the witching hour. 4:15AM.

She turned on the bed, intending to reach for Jamin, but found only wrinkly sheets and a missing pillow. Brushing her hand across the empty space, she wondered whether to try to fall back asleep or to get up and find him. He was probably just in the bathroom.

Sighing, she fell on her back and kicked away the too hot duvet. Eyeing around in the dark and lying in the still a little unfamiliar bed felt absurd. Almost as absurd as giving it a go with someone like Acid Betty.

Trixie had been sleeping in Acid’s bed for a week now and would be sleeping another one if everything went well. Everything had been “going well” so to speak, but she didn’t really know what to think about the overall situation. Katya didn’t think the relationship could work on the long run, and neither did Kim. Truthfully, Trixie was a little doubtful herself. Jamin Ruhen was nothing alike with the ideal boyfriend Trixie had imagined she would catch feelings for. She probably wouldn’t have given the man a chance at all without Bob’s offhand comment:

“Can’t be weirder than the Zamo-Chachki dynamic, and what I’ve heard, the sex should be at least as good. Maybe less kinky, though.”

In Trixie’s books less weird than the Zamo-Chachki tryst was a good thing – fucking freaks – and so she had agreed to a date; one night in L.A. One night, which had been followed by breakfast and lunch, and eventually a second dinner, as Trixie had been introduced to the gentle and occasionally surprisingly insecure man behind the facade of Acid Betty.

Trixie had slowly learned that while Violet Chachki came across as a bitch because she was, and owned it; Acid Betty came across as one because attack truly was the best defence, and occasionally because the man spoke before thinking. What Violet and Acid had in common was that neither was incapable of apologising or admitting that they were wrong, if given the chance to do so.

Trixie glanced at the alarm. 4:19AM.

* *

Stop acting like you’re all that You’re actually the most pathetic Yeah, try to provoke me even more So I can have some fun for a moment

Acid stared at the Barbie doll across the room and took another sip of his PBR. Just in jeans and a red t-shirt Trixie Mattel didn’t look nearly as intimidating as in her usual pink glad rags and war paint. That didn’t equate that he now thought her approachable, quite the opposite. He would probably never think Trixie Mattel in terms of “approachable”, and could only blame himself for that. He’d totally fucked up with the stunt he’d pulled at Untucked. What an earth had he been thinking?

“I’m just going to assume that you have managed to flawlessly execute the “Begging for Barbie’s Pardon” -plan and rather than avoiding Trixie, are hiding in this corner because of a persistent race-chaser with an awful acne.”

Acid flipped Bob the finger, unamused.

“No?” Bob asked and laughed loudly. “Honestly, avoidance might be the best tactic. You could never keep up with her wit and would just make a fool out of yourself, again. Better not to risk it,” Bob continued and took a seat at the table.

“Why are you here?” Acid sneered, annoyed.

“To cheer you up! And to take the piss… But mostly to cheer you up!”

Acid snorted and took another sip of his beer.

When he had two weeks ago asked Bob’s opinion whether he should apologise Ms. Mattel in person, rather than just send a text, Bob had howled in laughter. Thorgy had been encouraging and Kim’s advice had been to send the text. Kim had even provided him with Trixie’s personal phone number to do so, but so far Acid had managed to do nothing with it. It wasn’t that he was scared, he just didn’t know what words to use.

“So, how’s the biz?”

Acid glanced at Bob and cocked his eyebrows in question.

“You want to talk about work?” he asked in disbelief.

“No, I don’t. But I don’t know what else to talk about when you’re being like this.”

Acid snorted.

“Look, I appreciate the concern but you don’t have to make dry small talk just to keep me company,” Acid said and stood up.

“I’ll catch you later.”

He left Bob alone and made his way to the smoking area. Some fresh air should clear his head right up.

He stepped outside and was once again reminded of why he rarely visited gay clubs out of drag. There really was nothing worse than feeling self-conscious because of a gaze of a total stranger.

He had just talked himself into going back to the hotel and getting an early night in, when someone called out his name in the crowd. As he turned, he spotted Naomi in the corner with Kim and took a step forward before noticing that the pair was also accompanied by none other than Katya Zamolodchikova. Fuck. His step faltered and while he wanted to, he couldn’t just turn on his heels and walk back inside. Suddenly Bob’s small talk sounded like a very enjoyable alternative.

“Hey girl,” Naomi giggled and Acid could smell the sweet organic scent of the source of Naomi’s happiness. Kim passed the join back to Katya, who offered it to Acid with a smile that revealed nothing.

“Ah, thanks, but I’m just about to head off,” Acid declined politely and watched Katya shrug indifferently.

“Oh, don’t go yet!” Naomi whined and pulled him into an awkward half hug. “Let’s have a drink at least, I haven’t talked to you in ages!”

Acid was about to accept the invitation, but his words died on his lips as he heard a lazy drawl just behind him.

“He’s really sorry, Smalls, but he needs to get going. There’s a senior queens’ reading class tomorrow and he really can’t afford to miss it.”

Acid would recognise the voice of Trixie Mattel anywhere and as he turned, he could watch her walk up to them and cuddle up to Kim with a confident smirk. It was a clear challenge and he wasn’t ready for it. At all. Why hadn’t he just stayed with Bob? He could’ve told him all about the new client who wanted a website in neon green! He knew he needed a witty comeback, but his brain refused to co-operate.

“Yeah, I-um. She’s right, I really should go. I’ll catch you later, Naomi,” he said, turned and started walking back to the club.

“See you later, honey! Call me if you need any help with the alphabet!”

Acid grimaced at the comment and stopped. He might not have been the best reader, especially not under pressure, and would probably never reach the same easy flow with the art as Trixie Mattel, but he did have his moments. He turned back to the group and pulled out his mobile as he walked up to Trixie.

“That’s so generous. So, what’s your number?”

Trixie shot him a completely confused look, but as Acid just kept waiting with his phone out, she eventually blurted out the digits.

“Thanks man, truly appreciate it,” Acid said, pretending to save the number. Then he paused, looked up to Trixie and asked as genuinely as he possibly could: “And what’s your name again?”

Katya and Naomi both shrieked out a laugh and Kim snorted some vodka-coke out of her nostrils. Trixie stared at Acid for a while before also chuckling.

“Not bad,” she said and smiled a smile so fucking beautiful Acid knew immediately that he was fucked. Fucking shit mother-fucker. He really should’ve just stayed inside with Bob.

They say love is good, friendship is good But be warned, the back of your head might be in pain

It was months later and the first time Acid Betty had been booked into the same venue as Trixie Mattel. Jamin was nervous. He hadn’t seen the Barbie since the season eight finale after party and while they had parted in good terms, he was still little unsure of his relationship with her. He hadn’t managed to send her any apologies, or asked for reading help for that matter, and they never interacted on social media like Trixie did with other RuGirls. He just simply didn’t know whether they were friends or not.

Jamin had just started to spray paint Acid onto himself when Trixie arrived to the dressing room with a heavy looking suitcase. He hurried to help her with the door and got a grateful smile as a thank you.

“I need a personal assistant,” Trixie sighed and took a seat at the dresser, next to Acid’s acrylic paint bottles. She glanced over the assemble of colours and then at Jamin who had orange stars running on his collarbone.

“How did you even start with this stuff?” Trixie asked and picked up one of the bottles, examining it carefully.

Jamin was little taken aback by the question. People usually just told him that air-brush guns did not belong into Drag Queen makeup assortment and left it at that. Trixie however showed genuine interest, which he assumed to be purely professional, the doll was a makeup artist after all.

“I saw someone do it and stole the idea,” Jamin said and shrugged. “Most people use makeup paint, but it’s just not bright enough for me, like, at least the brands I’ve tried.”

“Huh,” Trixie shrugged and eyed the gun on the dresser.

“Do you want to try?”

Jamin didn’t know what had possessed him to ask but the excited glow in Trixie’s eyes told him that he’d made the right choice.

“Yes GOD!” Trixie sing-songed and picked up the gun.

Jamin was a little impressed how quickly the Barbie learned the technique. A lot faster than what he himself had back at the day.

After the show, when Jamin was packing up his things, some of the local queens asked Trixie whether she’d like to join them for a night out. Trixie turned to Jamin and asked if he was going.

“I’m not really into the scene,” Jamin admitted. He wouldn’t have minded some trade but hooking up on Grindr was so much easier than hunting in a club. At least on the app you didn’t have to deal with the completely appalled looks when you offered to buy a drink for someone who considered themselves out of your league.

“No? A beer at my hotel bar then?” Trixie asked and took Jamin by surprise the second time that evening.

“Um, yeah. Why not,” he nodded and licked his lips. This was going to be interesting.

Hey doctor doctor, please save me Because I’m about to go insane Stop trying to awkwardly chance the subject It’s hard for me to be sober I can’t do anything

“So you just had a couple of drinks?”

Jamin nodded and watched Thorgy pace back and forth in the kitchen, spatula in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He might’ve played down the amount of alcohol slightly, but as he didn’t want to admit the number of drinks he’d downed with Trixie even to himself, he certainly wasn’t going to tell the number to Thorgy.

“And then she invited you up.”

Jamin nodded again. The story really made even less sense if one reduced the alcohol variable so significantly.

“And despite that you had an invitation to her room, you ended up sucking her off in a public bathroom and walking off with a throbbing hard on?”

Yes, Jamin nodded in confirmation. That was exactly what had happened, and it had been so fucking hot.

“Why an earth would you not go up to her room?”

Jamin shrugged. He couldn’t explain it either. One moment Trixie had asked him to come up, the second she’d been excusing herself to the bathroom “real quick” and before Jamin had been able to make any sense of the situation, they’d been kissing in the toilet cubicle and Jamin had gotten onto his knees.

Afterwards he’d made multiple contradictory excuses to escape the scene, because in reality, unlike how he was telling the story now, he’d made a mess of himself inside of his boxer shorts. He wasn’t going to tell Thorgy that, or Trixie. Men in their late thirties did not cum just by sucking someone else’s cock, teenagers did.

“So, are you going to see her again?”

Jamin shrugged again. He had no idea and the mere possibility that he’d have to explain his previous behaviour to Trixie was simultaneously absolutely terrifying and mortifying. How did he end up being such a screw up?

I seem like an adult but I’m really a child that’s really tall My young dreams are just faded fantasies My mood is like a vast wilderness

The man moaned underneath Jamin as he pushed into him. So tight. He thrust couple of times before having to stop to readjust his position slightly. Dark, long limbs sprawled on the bed and as Jamin kept pounding into the man, a picture of a country cowboy rose to his mind. It was a little ridiculous how easily Brian Firkus’ smile made him distracted. He really needed to stop jerking off to the pictures he’d found online.

“Oh yeah, give it to me!”

The fantasy was shattered as the man spoke up and rather than finding his begging encouraging, Jamin got annoyed.

“Shut up,” he snapped and knew that he was being a dick.

It took him twice the time and effort to find release.

Get drunk, get drunk, go to heaven After I wake, I’m in hell, I don’t last long I’m like Popeye without spinach The laughter bomb tempts me

It was winter in New York and the only reason Jamin was in the backstage of the comedy club, his cock in between of a pair of lips that still supported a faint trace of pink lipstick, was Trixie’s earlier text message: “The offer still stands.”

It had taken Jamin some time to figure out what the Barbie meant by the cryptic message, but eventually he’d remembered that she had offered to teach him to read.

“Should I bring anything?”

“No. Just be on time.”

As soon as Jamin had arrived, Trixie had pulled him inside the dressing room, locked the door and gotten to work. Jamin appreciated the enthusiasm and as he came into the Barbie’s mouth, he hit the back of his head to the wall and hissed in pain.

“You okay?” Trixie asked whilst getting up from the floor and leaning in for a kiss.

“More than,” Jamin answered with a smile.

He could taste himself on her tongue.

It’s hard for me to be sober I can’t do anything I hate being sober I can’t fall asleep without you

Bob grabbed the bottle from Jamin’s hand and placed it on the floor. It was a tiny miracle that the man hadn’t injured himself on the stairs up to Bob’s apartment. Actually, it was a tiny miracle that the man had been able to walk up the stairs to begin with.

Looking at the passed out figure on the sofa, Bob couldn’t but to wonder if he’d ever fall for someone like that, so hard that he couldn’t handle it. Jamin’s rant about “a friend” who had caught very inconvenient feelings for a colleague hadn’t fooled Bob one bit. After all, he had just couple of months ago witnessed Trixie’s drunken confessions over how weird it was to daydream of a romantic relationship with a guy twelve years your senior and whom you had absolutely nothing in common with. By that point, of course, Bob had already known, amongst most other RuGirls, that Trixie Mattel and Acid Betty had been fucking for months in the broom closets and accessible toilets of every venue they’d been booked in together – and apparently also some they hadn’t.

“Can’t be weirder than the Zamo-Chachki dynamic, and what I’ve heard, the sex should be at least as good. Maybe less kinky, though,” Bob had told Trixie at the time, not thinking it his responsibility to play cupid.

It seemed, however, that the pair was incapable of taking any serious steps on their own, and so Bob decided to play mother hen. Blackmail, bribery and threats formed the holy trinity of parenting and he decided to start with threats, merely because it was the cheapest option. He grabbed a black marker pen, lifted Jamin’s shirt up and wrote to his chest with big block capitals:

“I will ask Tracy Martel out on a date or Bob will spank me.”

Bob later learned that the waterproof marker he had chosen only came off with specific cleaning products. Luckily for Acid, he was familiar with all kinds of tricky art stains.

Without you, I’m still left alone here I’m waiting for you, only believing in you But I’m a fool, no no no

Jamin: Would you like to go out sometime?

Brian: Like, as a date?

Jamin: Yeah.

Brian: Ok.

Jamin: You don’t sound very enthusiastic?

Brian: I’m not.

Jamin: Ok…

Brian: I mean… I think it’s a bad idea.

Jamin: Ok, well, we don’t have to.

Jamin wasn’t going to lie to himself, he was disappointed.

Jamin: You could’ve just said no.

Brian: I didn’t want to.

Jamin had nothing to say to that.

Brian: Can I think it over?

Jamin: Sure.

Jamin stared at the three dots that blinked on his phone screen but Brian didn’t reply him that evening, or even the following day. It took Brian Firkus three whole days to contact him again.

Brian: I’m a prick. Forgive me?

Jamin: No it’s alright.

Brian: You still up for it?

Jamin: The date? Yeah.

Brian: Great. L.A. as you’ll be here next week, right? Dinner?

Jamin: Sure.

It’s hard for me to be sober I can’t do anything I hate being sober I can’t fall asleep without you

* *

The digits on the alarm changed to 4:25 and Brian sighed. He knew he should go check on Jamin, but the bed was so incredibly comfortable and he was tired. He was just about to reach for the night light when the bedroom door opened and Jamin tiptoed in.

Brian watched him place his laptop on the desk before making his way to the bed.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch the duvet. It’s like a fucking sauna in here.”

Jamin startled at the words.

“Jesus, you scared me,” he chuckled and laid next to Brian, sliding his feet underneath the duvet.

“Where were you?” Brian asked, lifting his right arm to make space for Jamin who was inching closer.

“I got this idea for one of Betty’s looks and couldn’t sleep through it,” Jamin said as he snuggled to Brian’s side and wrapped an arm around his chest.

“And you were not reading any of the negativity on Reddit or on your Instagram?”

There was a heavy silence. Brian took a deep breath and placed his hand on Jamin’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“It would be really cool if you could stop lying to me,” Brian whispered and he could feel Jamin tense up. The man was barely breathing, most likely trying to stop existing through mere will power. “I know we haven’t been “a thing” for long, but you know, let’s try not to fuck it up immediately?”

Jamin nodded, but stayed silent for a while.

“I just…”

When he didn’t finish his sentence, Brian turned his head to drop a light kiss on his forehead.

“Didn’t want to reveal too soon that you’re a human being? Trust me, I get it, I’ve made a career out of being a doll from Toys R Us.”

There was another silence and Brian wondered whether he’d ever get used to them, having a tendency to usually surround himself with people that constantly had something to say.

“I’m really sorry about that one time, you know, I really didn’t get the Barbie reference before it was explained to me…”

Brian smiled. It was the first time Jamin clearly addressed the Untucked-fiasco between them. They had danced around the subject before, but never really discussed it. He had personally figured that it was just good television and moved on. He certainly had no issues with it, but apparently Jamin felt like he needed to apologise. It was kind of adorable.

“Oh, hooney! My drag could be based on Mr. Snuffleupagus and you still couldn’t read me!”

The comment made Jamin laugh and Brian pulled him closer. It definitely wasn’t any weirder than than the Zamo-Chachki -dynamic.

________________

[Useless A/N2 that no one asked for, feel free to ignore!! Thanks for reading the fic!!

This fic is a funny one.

I wrote the first chapter as a reply to anon-hate I received on my blog. Trash into treasure, girl.

What happened after, was that I got really intrigued by Acid’s character in the first chapter and when Primary Care won the ‘best multi-chapter’ -fic category on the AQficAwards, I really wanted to write a fic as a thank you for everyone who voted. By then I already had the chapter one written and published on my blog, but didn’t really know how to continue it. Fortunately Dandee sent me a word as a prompt: ‘Snuffleupagus’ – which I thought was stupid and ridiculous. But it actually gave me the idea that Trixie’s drag is based on a doll, a toy and there certainly is Mr. Snuffleupagus toys out there. So I ran with that and added in some Acid character study because that was what I was interested in exploring.

What I want to say by telling you all of this is, we all have reallt random and freaky and sometimes awful reasons and contexts why we write and how we come up with stuff. The most important thing is: Write to yourself. Do not try to please an audience when you offer your art for free, because the audience will move on and nothing will be popular forever. So as long as you love what you do, all is well ~

One author who always inspires me on AQ is Mistress. She doesn’t always get a lot of notes but clearly loves writing, submits a lot and has improved massively from her first ever published fic. So, in case you are a writer that doubts their skill, just remember that we all feel that way about our work sometimes and that writing is art, art where you get better and sometimes stumble, but it all contributes to the project of who you are as a writer.

Love and Glitter,

Spoky

[artificialqueens]

Miaou! (Famelet) - Stella

A/N: Fame is a famous socialite from Manhattan who takes a visit to her favorite city, Paris. There she meets Violet Chachki, the best burlesque dancer the city has to offer. After seeing her perform Fame knew she had to take her home for the night. Basically 4000+ vintage Famelet smut.

Fame cuddled her mink coat closer to her body as she walked down the wintry streets of Paris. Her people were chattering happily around her, English mixing with French. The city was alive in a way that only Paris could be, and it made a fond smile curl on Fame’s lips. She loved calling Manhattan home, but Paris definitely held a special place in her heart. Her father’s name held a certain weight in the city, so being his only daughter meant the people treated her like royalty. That’s why she was braving the flurries outside her warm, grand hotel. One of her father’s friends was bringing her to a local club, where the best of France’s burlesque dancers were performing.

“There is a girl I know will capture your heart, Madame Fame,” the man had teased when he told her about the place. “She makes everybody fall in love, but you are the only one beautiful enough to win her over.”

Fame had waved off his flattery, though. Beautiful girls weren’t hard to find in the city of love. All she had to do was throw one of her legendary parties and she would have a line down the block of pretty young bachelorettes wanting to spend a night in the legendary Miss Fame’s bed. Why should she waste her time chasing some dancer?

Finally, Fame’s entourage stopped outside of the club. In bright marquee letters, ‘Miaou!’ blazed above the entrance, with a sultry looking cat next to it.

“This reminds me of a place I went to in London,” Fame murmured to the man as he led them inside. There was another man waiting on the other side behind a host stand, with nothing but a long stairway behind him. All it took was Fame’s last name to be led deeper into the club. The place was already pretty full, mostly with sharply dressed men seated at tables in front of a stage, obscured by thick velvet curtains. The host led them to the back, where the important people were clearly meant to be. The entire area was one large round table, with one long booth stretching around it. Fame seated herself right in the middle so she could have the best view.

As soon as her group was seated, a fleet of waiters came around with champagne. The bubbly drink was sharp and expensive on the heiress’ tongue. When she finished her glass and felt the soothing warmth of alcohol settling in her veins, the curtains parted and the music began.

Burlesque, in it’s essence, was classy foreplay. She watched gorgeous women come on stage with dark lips and sultry eyes as they slowly peel their clothes off with an enticing swing of their hips. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as she socialized, enjoying both the show and her company. Fame was drawn in, however, when the next girl took the stage. She knew immediately she was the woman her father’s friend was talking about.

“Violet Chachki,” he whispered to Fame when she fell silent, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Violet,” Fame repeated. She was the most stunning woman Fame has ever seen. Her raven hair was perfectly curled around her head, framing her pale, narrow face. Her full lips were painted a bright scarlet, the playful curl of her mouth making Fame want to ravish her. She came out in a long black dress, but that quickly found the ground as she danced, revealing her model-esque body underneath. Her garments continued to find the stage, until she was in nothing but a tiny pair of lace underwear and sparkling red lips, much like her own, covering her nipples.

There was something hypnotic about the way she danced. Her moves were fluid but precise, and she knew just how to pose her long limbs. But it was here eyes that drew Fame in. Dark and sparkling, she flirted in a universal language. Violet was confident, and coy, and Fame has never wanted a woman the way she wanted Violet. She excited Fame in a way that no one else had been able to. When the curtains closed and the burlesque beauty was ripped out of her view. Before she even had a chance to pout though, her father’s friend leaned over to her again.

“I arranged for Violet to come sit with us after her number,” he promised. Fame’s mood instantly lifted. She had another bottle of champagne brought over and waited impatiently for the dancer to make her appearance.

It only took a few minutes for Violet to come to their table. She was now dressed in a long, silk wrap dress, and Fame could only fantasize about untying her belt and seeing if she had the same gorgeous undergarments on.

“Come here darling,” Fame beckoned with a warm smile. A few people had to shuffle out so Violet could join her in the middle, but Fame’s attention was only on the french girl. Violet settled next to her with a flirty smile, sitting closer than necessary.

“Hello, you are Fame, yes?” The girl asked, her accent thick and her voice smoky.

“I am, does my reputation precede me?” Fame asked. Violet’s eyes widened with confusion.

“I, ah, do not speak very much english, I am sorry,” the dancer apologized. Fame giggled and put her hand on Violet’s.

“I’m sorry, I’ll use easier words,” the heiress promised. Violet beamed and nodded, showing she understood Fame.

“Do you like Paris?” Violet asked, though the fluttering of her thick lashes distracted Fame from her words.

“Paris? Oh, yes! It’s one of my favorite cities, I visit often,” Fame replied.

“Do you come here on one of those big airplanes?” The burlesque girl asked. Her eyes were wide with curiosity. Fame smirked and nodded.

“Oh yes, it’s the fastest way to travel. I used to travel by boat when I was younger, and it would take days, but it only takes one by air.”

Violet looked at Fame like she put the plane in the sky herself. It was endearing, seeing a softer side to the sex kitten. Up close the girl looked much younger than she did on stage.

“I am not used to nice things like that. My family was very poor when I was little, and now I work for myself. Dancing pays enough, but our lives are very different,” Violet explained with a shy grin.

“Well you’re with me tonight darling, you can live like I do,” Fame promised. The french girl beamed and squeezed Fame’s hand.

“Darling, that is a cute name, yes? For your amour?” Violet asked. This was Fame’s chance to test the waters with Violet. Her father’s friend seemed to imply Violet was the sapphic type, but she wanted to see for herself.

“Yes, is that okay?” The socialite asked.

“Of course, but I must teach you some french words,” Violet countered, a playful glint in her eyes. “There is… mon tresor, my treasure. Or, mon canard.”

“My duck?” Fame interrupted, giggling at the absurdity of it. Violet laughed too, soft and bell-like.

“Yes, but there are worse names. There is ma crevette, my shrimp. There is even ma puce which is a little bug. I do not know how to say it in english.”

Fame leaned in closer to Violet. “What would you call me?”

Violet’s eyes flickered from Fame’s gaze to her lips, and Fame’s heart lept. “Ma belle, because you are so beautiful. But you are not mine, so I should just call you belle.”

“I can be yours for the night,” Fame whispered. “Come home with me, Violet. We’re in the city of love, no one should sleep alone.”

A confident smirk returned to Violet’s face, and Fame could feel her sharp nails trailing softly down her arm, causing her to shiver.

“I am yours, ma belle,” The french woman replied. Fame took Violet’s hand and brought it to her lips.

“Meet me outside then.” Fame ushered people out of their way and watched as Violet disappeared into the back again before moving outside. The snow had thankfully let up, so she didn’t mind waiting in the cool air for the younger woman to meet her outside. It only took a few minutes for the dark haired girl to exit the club, this time bundled up in a thick petticoat and a wool cap. Fame took her gloved hand and squeezed it.

“This way darling.” They walked in silence, enjoying each other’s presence and the beauty of the city around them. Fame could have easily called them a car to take them to her hotel, but the heiress preferred the walk. Even if she risked a cold, there was so much to take in, so much to appreciate, she didn’t want to miss a thing. Violet didn’t complain about having to walk either, though the younger woman began shivering delicately as the minutes drew on. Her coat wasn’t as thick as Fame’s, and she was such a wisp of a woman, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her body to keep her warm in the chilly Parisian night. Silently, Fame unlaced their fingers so she could wrap her arm around Violet’s waist and draw her into her side. Violet smiled gratefully and burrowed in closer, her cheek brushing against the long fur of Fame’s jacket. Finally they stopped in front of Fame’s hotel. The building was glowing with a warm light like a crackling fireplace. The doorman opened the entrance for the pair as they climbed the steps, and every employee made sure to nod respectively at Fame as they passed. Violet’s eyes lit up with wonder as they continued through the opulent hotel.

The elevator ride up to the penthouse was quiet, but the way Violet’s hand occasionally brushed against hers sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. The elevator door opened directly into the room, and a gasp left Violet next to her. Fame smirked and led her into the room.

The place was outlandishly decadent, just as Fame liked it. There were sofas gathered in the center of the room, velvet and lush. The floor was a glimmering marble that shone quite like a mother-of-pearl in the light. The windows were tall, almost from floor to ceiling, and showed the perfect view of the city. Even the wallpaper looked expensive, gold leafing accented in the design to catch the light and make the room almost alive. The luxury was all too familiar to Fame, but when she turned to Violet the dancer had an awed look on her face.

“You live like a princess,” the younger girl murmured. The warmth of the room was bringing color back to Violet’s face. She looked ravishing, especially now that they were in proper lighting. The dark of the club had done her no justice. Every plane of her face was beautiful, from her heart shaped lips to her carefully arched eyebrows. She looked like she belonged on the silver screen, too beautiful to exist in the real world. But here she was in Fame’s room, choosing to spend the night with her. Paris truly was Fame’s favorite place.

“Let me take your coat darling,” Fame prompted. Violet’s fingers made teasing work of her buttons, that flirty smirk back on her face. As she slowly pulled it off, her dress underneath became looser, revealing more of her pale skin. She then handed the jacket to Fame.

“Thank you ma belle,” Violet giggled. Fame’s heels clicked against the marble as she walked over to the coat stand, carefully hanging Violet’s jacket before removing her own to join it. When she turned around she saw Violet had made herself comfortable, seated on the couch. She was staring out the window, entranced by the city twinkling outside. Fame took the moment to appreciate her candid beauty. The curve of her long neck, her tiny waist, her legs that went on and on. Fame wished she were a poet, she didn’t have the words in her capacity to truly describe the creature perched on her couch.

Seeming to feel eyes on her, Violet turned away from the window to meet Fame’s gaze. She smiled invitingly and patted the space on the couch next to her. Without hesitance Fame crossed the room and settled down in the open seat.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Fame asked. Violet’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned in closer until her lips were almost brushing against Fame’s ear.

“The only thing I want to taste tonight is you,” Violet whispered, her breath fanning against Fame’s neck. Her bold words made Fame’s thighs clench together subconsciously, wetness already beginning to pool there. She couldn’t even recover from Violet’s sultry promise as the younger dancer pressed her lips against Fame’s jaw. She kissed her skin slow and teasing, gentle brushes of her plush mouth. Her hand steadied itself on Fame’s thigh, another promise for later as she squeezed the heiress’ flesh. God, how was this woman even real? It was like she was plucked out of Fame’s deepest fantasies and placed right in her lap.

“I think we might be more comfortable in the bedroom,” Fame breathed out. Her voice sounded shaky, a sign of weakness that Violet surely picked up on. The french girl removed her lips from Fame’s jaw and stood up, that same smile on her face that had Fame’s stomach fluttering with anticipation.

“Bed, yes,” Violet agreed. She took Fame’s hand and the older woman led them through the penthouse until they stopped in front of two large double doors. She pushed them open to reveal the master bedroom, a large canopy bed ornating the center of the room. Violet guided Fame to the edge of the bed and made her sit down before teetering over to the turntable in the corner of the room. She flipped through the records stacked neatly next to it, until she found the one she wanted. Once the record was spinning slowly and a soft instrumental was filling the room, Violet turned.

“Is this okay?” Violet asked as she stepped closer to the bed again, her hips swinging in time with the music.

“I have never been more okay in my life,” Fame assured. Violet giggled, and her hands went to the belt of her wrap dress. She slowly worked at the knot and then pulled the silk fabric away, causing the dress to fall open. She was still wearing those sinful little undergarments, though the glittery red lips had been removed, leaving her chest naked.

“You are just the prettiest little thing,” Fame murmured. “Come here.”

Violet made her way to Fame, standing right between the other woman’s legs. Fame reached up to touch Violet’s hips. She was fascinated by the other woman’s body. She was so lean, and skinny. So unlike the pin-up girls most women strived to model themselves after. She didn’t have round hips, or full thighs. Her breasts were tiny and perky. Violet’s figure was almost boyish. But Fame loved every inch of it. Her hands traced her shape, going from her hips to her sides, then sliding down to her legs. Violet stood perfectly still as Fame explored, her breathing soft, her chest moving gently.

“Are you just going to touch or do you want to play?” Violet asked, one of her sculpted brows raising. Her words prompted Fame’s hands to move to her ass and pull her into her lap.

“It’s called foreplay darling, I want to take my time with you,” Fame retorted.

“Ah, we do have all night,” Violet agreed. Fame leaned forward and pressed a kiss right under Violet’s collarbone. Her skin was hot to the touch as her lips moved lower. As Fame’s tongue dragged against the swell of her breast, she could see goosebumps start to rise on Violet’s arms. Her nipples were now hard from the attention Fame was giving her chest, her body so responsive for her. She took one of her rosy buds in her mouth, sucking gently. A light gasp left Violet’s mouth, followed by a stuttering moan as Fame’s tongue lapped against the tip. She pulled off with a small ‘pop’ then moved to the other one. She could worship Violet’s body like this all night. From the way Violet was starting to wiggle in her lap though, the other woman probably couldn’t handle such a slow pace for much longer. The dancer was so young, so full of energy, so eager to rush into things. But Fame was a decedent creature, she liked to savor everything, lavish in the finer things. It wasn’t Fame’s fault that Violet was such a work of art.

“Ma belle, you are too dressed,” Violet gasped. If Fame had thought her cheeks had been flushed before, they were absolutely pink now.

“Alright, but you’re going to have to help me,” Fame replied. Violet grinned, and her hands wrapped around Fame’s back to find the zipper. Slowly she pulled it down, the sound of the metal intermingling with the soft music. When it was undone Violet helped her free her arms, the top of the dress pooling in her lap and leaving her in just her bra. Her hands rubbed at Fame’s back soothingly before she went to untie her bra. It fell to the floor, leaving Fame’s top half exposed.

“Hm, so beautiful,” Violet remarked, her hands going to cup Fame’s breasts. They were heavy in the dancer’s hands as she squeezed. “I want to see the rest.”

She stood up off of Fame’s lap so the older woman could completely undress. Fame lifted her hips off of the bed so she could slide her dress off. Now both women were only dressed in their underwear and heels. The latter were next to come off, Violet carefully bending over to undo the buckles on her ankles while Fame just kicked hers off easily.

“Do you want to lay down?” Fame asked. Violet nodded, so Fame turned to climb into the bed. She could feel the mattress dipping behind her, and when she reached the pillows and flipped onto her back Violet was right there.

“Are you more comfortable like this?” Violet asked as she lowered herself on top of Fame. Her thigh nudged between Fame’s legs, and her breasts brushed against her own. Fame was glad they weren’t under the covers, her body was already heating up as they were.

“That’s one word for it,” Fame chuckled. Violet brushed her fingers along Fame’s cheek before bending down to kiss her. It dawned on Fame that this was the first time she’s actually kissed the Burlesque dancer tonight. It was more intimate than the leg wedged between her thighs, or the hand gripping her breast. It was gentle yet commanding, soft yet deep. It made Fame’s head swim and her breath hitch.

Fame’s hands wandered as they kissed until they found their way to Violet’s round bottom. She slipped them under the other girl’s underwear and gripped her cheeks, drawing their hips closer together. Violet groaned into the kiss, her teeth nipping at Fame’s bottom lip.

“Take it off,” Violet pleaded, so Fame happily slid the girl’s underwear down her legs. Their lips met again, but this time it was rougher. Fame’s fingers pressed between Violet’s folds to feel the wetness growing there. Violet’s legs parted as Fame started rubbing the pads of her fingers against her clit. Violet’s tongue was hot in her mouth as Fame pleasured her, her digits circling against her sensitive bundle of nerves. As Fame pressed harder, a surprised gasp left the younger girl.

“I’ve got you kitten, don’t worry,” Fame soothed. She removed her hand from Violet and made sure their eyes were locked as she brought her fingers to her lips, sucking on them gently. Violet watched her hungrily.

“My heiress likes to use her mouth?” Violet teased. “Show me.”

“I have a better idea. Turn around for me and we can both feel good.” Fame quickly shimmied out of her own underwear as Violet repositioned herself. Now her back was to Fame, and she was staring at her over her shoulder, waiting for instruction. Fame didn’t give her any. Instead, she placed her hands on Violet’s hips and pulled her closer to her face. She gave an experimental lick, her tongue flat and broad as she pushed against her. Violet’s back arched above her. Taking that as a sign to continue, Fame pressed her tongue harder against Violet’s clit in a rolling motion.

“Ah!” Violet squeaked, her nails digging into Fame’s thighs. Fame spread her legs, reminding the other girl to pay attention to her needs too. Her mouth was too busy to instruct her verbally. Thankfully Violet seemed to take the hint as she bent forward. Her long hair brushed against Fame’s skin as she pressed a kiss against Fame’s entrance. Fame punished her with a teasing slap to the girl’s ass. Violet squealed and trailed into a giggle, clearly knowing she was being a tease. Finally, her tongue traced against Fame’s neglected clit. God, Fame didn’t know how desperate she had been until she was finally getting some attention. Violet didn’t go easy on her, either. Her tongue was methodical and relentless against her while her fingers found their way to her hole. One, then two slipped in, carefully massaging that delicious spot on her inner walls. Fame liked to pride herself on her endurance, but all of that foreplay had taken its toll and Violet knew exactly what she was doing. All Fame could do to distract herself was focus her energies on pleasuring the young vixen. But it was all too much for her. The girl’s lips on her core, her fingers deep inside her, her juices sharp on her tongue, it was a deadly combination.

It built slowly inside her, the muscles in her abs tightening, the pressure growing and growing. She could feel her whole body tensing, and her hips pressed into the mattress, almost trying to escape Violet’s touch. But she was there, pressing deeper, continuing to push her until it was too much. Fame had to pull away from Violet to inhale sharply, and then she was coming.

The heiress gripped the bedding, twisting it tight between her fingers as she rode through it. She came silently, the air literally trapped in her lungs as the sensation rushed through her body. Her hips were rolling down, desperate for Violet’s touch. The dancer guided her through it, her touch gentler now. When Fame finished her body became slack, the tension seeping out of every muscle. Her breathing was ragged, but that wasn’t going to stop her. No, her little dancer still had to finish.

Fame grabbed Violet’s hips and pulled her back against her mouth. There was no mercy now, no distractions; just Violet. While Fame was silent as she came, Violet was anything but. She was whiny, her voice hitching as the sound was almost forced out of her. Her thighs trembled in Fame’s iron grip, until finally she too relaxed. The younger woman slid down onto the bed next to Fame and curled into her side. Violet’s hair was now a mess, and her lips were shiny with Fame’s wetness. She was so beautiful.

“That was new for me,” Violet admitted, tracing her finger down Fame’s chest.

“Which part? The position, or being with a woman?” Fame asked. Violet giggled.

“The position, silly. I have been with many women. How do you think I got you to come so easily,” she replied. She looked sleepy in her post orgasm haze, her eyes droopy and her face soft. Fame reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Do you want to sleep here?” Fame asked. Violet nodded, biting her lip.

“If I am no trouble,” she added.

“Not at all.” Fame pulled the covers down so they could climb under, their hot limbs now cool against the silk sheets. Violet didn’t stray far, even though the bed could easily fit five people. Her arm draped around Fame’s waist and her leg hooked with Fame’s. Once her head was settled against a pillow her eyes fluttered shut.

“Goodnight darling,” Fame hummed into the darkness.

“Goodnight ma belle.”

Fame fell asleep with the Parisian lights twinkling outside her window, her lover in her arms.

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 223

In this the V list writes again, Courtney get’s in trouble, Max considers, Bianca is struggling, Laila tries again and Violet has had enough.

Thank you to @veronicasanders @toriibelledarling and @samrull <3 You’re amazing <3

Bianca stirred, sliding her hands to Courtney’s side of the bed, a wave of disappointment hitting her when she felt the empty sheets. She sighed and rolled over. She’d been hoping, it being her birthday, and since they’d been up so late the night before, that Courtney would forego the early morning run for this ONE day so that they could have a nice, lazy morning together. Oh well. She covered her face with the pillow.

***

“Biaaaanca…” a soft voice crooned, hands gently tugging at the covers.

Bianca opened her eyes to see Courtney snuggled up beside her, a tray of food next to them on the bed. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon in the air. She smiled lazily, kissing Courtney on the mouth.

“Happy Birthday…” said the blonde. “Hungry?”

“For you? Always.” Bianca pulled Courtney closer, kissing her again, tasting her lips.

Courtney giggled and pushed her away. “No, I made you breakfast, and I didn’t even burn anything! AND I touched bacon. Is that love or what?” Courtney reached over and picked up the fork, lifting a mouthful of fluffy scrambled eggs to Bianca’s mouth.

Bianca took a bite obediently, settling back against the pillows. “I thought you went out running,” she said, running her fingers through Courtney’s hair.

“On your birthday? No. Unless you count running to the corner for pastries.” Courtney smiled and continued to feed her while Bianca’s hands roamed all over her body. “Does it taste okay?”

Bianca nodded, pulling her closer by the hips, accepting a sip from the cup of coffee Courtney held to her lips. She nuzzled Courtney’s neck as she set the coffee back down. “I love you.”

“Me too, B…” Courtney’s hands cupped Bianca’s face, tilting her chin up, stroking her cheeks. When dimples appeared beneath her fingers, Courtney smiled back, and reached over towards the nightstand, pulling open a drawer handing Bianca a small, wrapped box. “Happy birthday.”

“Baby. You didn’t have to buy me anything. You did the whole weekend away, and--”

Courtney silenced her with a kiss. “Just open it.”

Bianca unwrapped the package carefully.

“Careful, B, a tiny bit of paper got ripped in the corner,” Courtney teased.

“Hey, I didn’t get rich wasting wrapping paper,” Bianca laughed. She opened the jewelry box to reveal a copper cuff bracelet covered in opal and amethyst.

Courtney fingered her hair nervously. “That’s...those are our birthstones. Raven made fun of me for the idea, she said it was cheesy, but she ended up helping me at the jewelry designer...Do you like it?”

Bianca looked up at her. “I love it.”

“Really? It’s okay if you don’t, I--”

“Come here…” Bianca pulled her close. “This is the best birthday I have ever had. You know why?”

“This warmer than average autumn weather we’re having?” Courtney fluttered her lashes.

Bianca closed her eyes and rested her head on Courtney’s chest, listening to her pounding heartbeat. “Yeah, that’s it. The fucking weather.”

Courtney laughed and snuggled in tightly, laying her cheek on top of Bianca’s head.

***

Hey V-Listers! So, looks like Li’l Courtney Act had a big ol’ debutante ball for her first album yesterday (which, btw, we are going to fully review in detail once it comes out), and I think we should have a little slideshow to discuss some of the fashion, eh?

Let’s start with the ever-mysterious Ms. Violet Chachki, who is always so elusive on the red carpet. We managed to find a shot where she’s semi-facing the cameras, and check out the stunning ensemble! Violet, why not strut on carpets more often? She looks positively beautiful - Grace Kelly with a modern twist. If this kid continues to allow us to occasionally photograph her, we could be looking at one of the most important style icons of her generation. She’s classic, edgy, vintage and ahead of the trend at the same time, with not a hair out of place. 10/10!

On the other hand, here’s Courtney, who often has tragically questionable taste. (Remember the - gulp - sparkly jelly platforms she wore all summer? #yikes) Tonight though, we will hand it to her, she looks great. From the new haircut, to the red lip, to the simple black dress and thigh-high boots, it almost looks like our baby is all growed up. Awwww…

(BDR, please don’t break up with her just because she doesn’t look 16 tonight, okay? We kind of like her. We can’t wait to listen to some queer pop music, either. Even if it sucks, we know the videos will be hot, so, we’re on board.)

OMG, so...have you guys heard that Broadway star/philanthropist/former alcoholic disaster Jinkx Monsoon is in some kind of delicious little sapphic Trifecta with Adore Delano, the punk princess herself (and the baby sister of BDR, one of Jinkx’s good friends - knowing B, they’ve slept together over the years, so this is just super incestuous) AND Alaska Honard, Galactica’s Lead Makeup Artist and SVP of their makeup line??? (Alaska has been under the radar for the last few years, but you may remember her from her last relationship with Broadway producer and professional pain in the ass, Sharon Needles.)

So these three, god bless them, are like our own little Charlie’s Angels come to life! You’ve got Alaska, the smart, sexy blonde in the center there, in her chic teal wrap dress and black frame glasses. There’s the stunning redhead, fresh from her Evita performance, in a slitted gown, cinched for the gods, about a zillion dollars worth of diamonds, and you know, just a casual fur shrug. Now, we’re really happy for Jinkx and all her success and clean living etc etc etc. But we do have to admit that we miss the hot mess who used to entertain us by passing out in gutters with her dresses around her waist.

Which brings us to Adore. First of all, Adore, nice eye makeup. Second, maybe you’re like to be introduced to this amazing new device called a HAIR BRUSH? Third, what the actual fuck is happening with your CLOTHES, GURL??? It looks like she robbed a gang of 90s B-girls and then stole ALL their clothes. Like she’s homeless and wearing EVERYTHING she owns. Plus like 4 flannels around her waist. We only approve if this ridiculous ensemble is accompanied by even more ridiculous behavior. So either start your downward spiral, stat, or step up your fashion game, Adore. Because you rolling with some classy bitches now.

Last but certainly not least, here’s Raja Amrull and Miss Fame of Galactica. Both of them look gorgeous as usual. Raja is in a stunning minidress and killer boots - WE NEED THESE IMMEDIATELY. Fame even seems to be getting into the spirit of the event, with some sexy leather pants that accentuate her feminine assets quite well, and an open-weave sweater that comes dangerously close to showing off some other assets. But even more interesting than their sartorial choices for the evening is the fact that their partners are both suspiciously absent. And both of them are looking a little glassy-eyed and cuddling awwwwwful close, doncha think? I mean not to start rumors but we’re just saying…*

That’s all for now, kiddos! Talk to you soon!!

Kisses, V

*We are saying that they are possibly fucking each other, in case that wasn’t clear. Feel free to discuss…

***

“How do you pleasure a woman?”

Katya looked up, the handful of popcorn almost dropping out as her mouth hung open. Her and Max had been watching TV, Katya absentmindedly rocking Ivan on her legs, her feet up on the coffee table, Ivan with her since Trixie was out getting groceries, Ivan going through bananas like a machine.

“What?” Katya couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Had Max, Max Malaphany, asked her about sex? She knew he had been getting more and more serious with Ruby, the redhead a near permanent fixture in the apartment’s kitchen whenever Max wasn’t working, and even when Max was working she was still always there. Katya had heard Max talk and chitter, chat and laugh in the middle of the night when Ivan couldn’t sleep, Max showing Katya the google hangout setup he had made for him and Ruby so she could see what he was working on whenever she had her computer open. “Max... Are you asking me how to pleasure a woman sexually?”

Max looked uncomfortable, his cheeks red, the man staring at the TV, even though Katya knew that he wasn’t the least bit interested in how Ted Mosby once again failed in getting Robin to love him. “Would it be wrong if I did?”

“No, no, oh my god no!” Katya sat up, Ivan going on her arm as she looked at her friend. “I’m not complaining, I’m just not sure why you’ve chosen to ask me?”

“You’re a woman, right?” Max smiled, and Katya felt her heartbeat slow down a little.

“I am, but I just…” Katya reached out with her foot and turned the TV off, Max turning his head so they looked at each other. “Why not ask Trixie? Or even Pearl for that matter. They have more sex with woman than I do.”

“Yes.” Max scratched his cheek, his ears going red too. “But I’m asking you.”

“Do you want to have sex?” Katya gently bounced Ivan, the little boy babbling, his hand in his mouth and Katya briefly considered if it was right to have a conversation like that with her infant son on her hip. “I mean, you’ve never really-”

“Seemed interested?”

“Yes.”

Max smiled, the man reaching out to take Ivan from Katya who had attacked the popcorn bowl, the two falling into conversation, his ears still red as they talked.

***

Bianca was sitting with Dan, going over some layout boards, when Joslyn rushed in. “Bianca? Detox Sanderson is on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent.”

“He always says that. Tell him to go fuck himself, I’ll call him back later.”

Joslyn left and then re-appeared a few moments later. “Um. He says it’s really, really urgent. It’s about Courtney. He said ‘someone is trying to fuck with your girl and you need to get old school on their ass.’”

Bianca’s head snapped up. She lifted the receiver. “This better not be a cry wolf situation, De.” She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and waved Dan and Joslyn away, mouthing “We’re done.”

“It’s not. I saw the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Some dude emailed us. He’s got nude pictures of Courtney. He’s trying to sell them. He came here and the guys kicked it up to me because of how much money he wants. Obviously he sent us censored versions but they’re legit. It’s definitely her.”

“Fuck! Who is this asshole?!”

“I don’t know. Some guy she went to college with? I told him we need an hour. I suggest you get the label to buy the pictures and squash it.”

“How much does he want?”

“Fifty grand.”

“That’s nothing.”

“I know. Have fun destroying his life.”

“Forward me the little twat’s info, okay?”

“Sure.”

“And De?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For looking out.”

“Of course. I have a teenage daughter, too, you know.”

“You know, I was trying to say something nice, you fuckhead,” Bianca said, as Detox laughed on the other end of the line, hanging up. “Asshole.”

***

“Laila! Come on!” Pearl smiled brightly. They were in Max’s studio, Pearl’s hair around her head in a dutch braid, her face bare and freshly washed.

“I’m coming, I’m coming okay, just because you’re not wearing makeup doesn’t mean I’m not.” Laila called from Max’s small bathroom, making the photographer who was eating a banana smile as he looked at Pearl.

“Give her time.”

“I’m sorry, I just want to get started.” Pearl blew a bit of hair away from her face, before she sat down on a chair. It was early morning, and Pearl was technically supposed to be downstairs at her department, but Pearl had always been fearless in the face of danger, and had given the command of the morning to Laganja, the social media department focusing their time on following what the autumn fashion was right now, Pearl having spent days on the street’s documenting what the New Yorkers were wearing.

“Okay, I’m here!” Laila smiled, and Pearl felt her heart skip a beat. Laila was beautiful, her girlfriend's newly colored hair a vibrant purple, and Pearl smiled. Her Laila was back, not completely of course, Laila still having days where she could barely get out of bed, days where she couldn’t eat anything, no matter what Pearl tempted her with, but here she was, her Laila, her girl. Laila found her makeup case as Max sent up his camera, making sure everything was centered, and Pearl felt giddy with anticipation.

Laila looked at Pearl, the woman holding a brush, a small smile on her face. “Are you ready?” Pearl nodded, leaning forward, their lips meeting in a brief, sweet kiss before Max started the camera and Laila turned around.

“Hi everyone, I’m Laila McQueen, and this is my halloween makeup tutorials, modeled by my lovely girlfriend, Pearl Liaison.”

***

“I’ll pay it myself!” Bianca screeched into the phone.

“It’s not that simple, B. The label obviously wants them out. They want the publicity. Courtney already signed the waiver saying she was okay with it.”

“She did WHAT?!”

“Yeah, the label asked her to sign, just to protect them. So they’re gonna let the Enquirer deal happen, but they’ll hold the story until Wednesday after the album drops, then of course they will issue a press release about how horrified they are, poor little baby pop star being taken advantage of by a bitter ex. They’ll have her speak to girls about protecting themselves and whatever. They literally just sent me a 20 page media plan about it.”

“And Courtney AGREED to this? What the fuck, she didn’t even call me.”

“Well, you’re not her mother, Bianca.”

“What if I offer to double the money?” Her voice rose with panic.

“That would make you an insane person. Five Gs...Good god, get a grip, girl.”

“Fuck.”

“Listen, she’s not the first singer to have nude photos out. They aren’t gratuitous. Just...seriously. Let it go, hon.”

***

Violet fought with her key, finally getting the door to Sutan’s apartment open, her stomach tight with worry as she rushed Frida and herself inside. She was late, later than usual, and she felt horrible, but she had been caught up at work, the designs for Marie Claire taking all of her time.

“Sutan? Are you here? I bought pizza like you asked!”

Violet toed off her shoes, balancing the cardboard box as she unclicked Frida’s leash, Frida racing inside to get to Sutan, the little dog so excited to see her daddy. “Sutan? Sutan, are you in the shower?” Violet walked into the livingroom, jacket still on, her other hand holding onto the tote bags she had brought along, Sutan’s halloween costume in it. Violet put down the pizza, looking around as Frida came back, the pup whining, the little creature almost running in circle as she whimpered.

“Sutan! I’m serious, where are you?” Violet sat down, gently running her hand over Frida, the pup nibbling on her fingers. Violet took out her phone and dialed Sutan’s number, her stomach hurting slightly, the ever familiar knot collecting there as she waited for Sutan to pick up the phone.

“Violet?”

“Hi, Sutan, where are you? I’m at your apartment and no one’s here...”

“You’re at my place?”

“... Yes? We were suppose to meet up for dinner...” Violet bit her lip.

"Oh right, I was there but you were late, so I had to go.”

“You had to go? But I’m here now?” Violet couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t been that late, or, if she was honest it was close to 30 minutes, but it wasn't the worst she had ever done. “We have to try the costu-”

"Listen I'm on my way uptown. I know it sucks, that I’m not home for dinner, I know, but can't you just order something? I’ll pay for it."

“... What?”

“You knew I had to go out tonight, it’s been part of the deal all along, I’ll be home some time later tonight.”

Violet didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, her throat totally closed up.

"Listen love, just send me a picture of the receipt, okay? We can talk tomorrow.”

“I…”

"Tomorrow, okay baby? You were late after all, but don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine. I love you, and I'm serious, anything you want."

Sutan hung up before Violet had a chance to answer, the girl slowly removing her phone from her ear, the screen laughing at her since the call had barely taken two minutes, and Violet felt slightly sick, the smell of the pizza on the table, the pizza Sutan wanted, making her nauseous. His stupid pizza with chicken, food Violet didn’t want at all, food she didn’t care about or for and that she had only gotten because Sutan asked for it, stupid, egoistic Sutan. Violet picked the pizza up, stomped into the kitchen and threw it directly into the trash, the cardboard fighting her as she forced it into the trashcan, the hot sauce burning her, but the physical pain was nothing against the storm of emotions and the rage instead her. Violet slammed the trash can shut, and went to bed.

***

Bianca burst through the front door, throwing down her briefcase, finding Courtney in the kitchen, still sweaty from a rehearsal, casually making dinner with her family.

“Hey, B!” she said with a chipper expression. “Hope you’re hungry! Mum’s making her famous veggie nut loaf.”

Bianca stood in the kitchen doorway, unsure of how to respond. “Courtney. What did the label ask you to sign today?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, just this form saying that I wouldn’t sue them if nude pictures got into the tabloids. Apparently someone from my college is trying to make a quick buck off a bunch of pictures I sent to an old boyfriend. Mum, is this enough garlic?”

“Yes, love. Can you check the potatoes? I want to start mashing them”

“Sure!” Courtney skipped over to the stove.

“Courtney, how are you being so casual about this?!”

“Well, what good does it do to stress over it, B? I mean, I sent photos like that to more than one person...let’s just say it’s one of my go-to moves. Sorry, mum.”

Annette shrugged. “You’re a big girl.”

“So what if they stop these pictures? They wouldn’t be able to stop all of them. At least there’s a plan. They think it could even boost sales of my album.”

Bianca looked around the kitchen incredulously. Her blood was boiling. Gil casually chopped cucumber for a big salad, and Ben took a pan of roasted veggies from the oven to let it cool on the counter. No one seemed the slightest bit bothered by the situation at hand.

“Does ANYONE see a fucking problem here?! Gil! This is your daughter!”

“It’s just some tits, Bianca. Have a drink.” Gil gestured to the open bottle of wine on the counter. “They aren’t even very big ones, anyway.”

Ben snickered. “Yeah, what are you, Court, an A cup?”

“I’m a B cup, dickhead.”

“Yeah, right, keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m sorry, love,” said Annette. “It’s my fault, you have my build. But they’re nice, even though they’re small.”

“I have triple D’s,” Ben bragged.

“Good on ya, son!” Gil slapped Ben on the back.

Courtney scoffed. “You always have to be the favorite, don’t you?”

Bianca clenched her fists. “Now I know why England expelled you guys. You’re a bunch of goddamn deviants.”

Courtney laughed. “Yeah, we were way too fun and sexy for the British. They threw us right out.”

Bianca sighed. “I need to lie down.”

***

Bianca curled on her side, a pillow covering her face. She felt hands sliding around her waist. “Hi,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Are you really upset about this nude picture thing?” Courtney asked.

“I’m...I’m confused why you’re NOT upset.”

“I don’t see the big deal. I took the pictures. Well. Actually,” Courtney laughed. “Most likely, Morgan or Tati took the pictures. Or--”

“Don’t fucking say Adore.”

“Sorry.”

“Jesus, Courtney.”

“I’m sorry!”

Bianca sighed, staring at the ceiling.

“Madonna has that whole book of nude photos. You still like her, right?”

“Those were taken by Steven Meisel. And it was still considered porn and people fucking raked her over the coals for it.”

Courtney cupped Bianca’s face in her hands. “So...you’re worried about my career?”

“No. I’m just...I’m a petty, possessive asshole who doesn’t want anyone else to get to see you the way I get to see you.” Bianca wrapped Courtney into an embrace. “You’re supposed to be mine. All mine.”

Courtney smiled, kissing her lightly. “Aww, babe…”

Bianca buried her face in Courtney’s neck.

Courtney nuzzled her hair. “Guess you better get over that, huh?”

“I don’t wanna,” Bianca whimpered.

“B, look at me. So there are a few pictures out there. But no one will ever see me the way you do. Because I’m never gonna look at anyone the way I look at you.” Courtney gripped Bianca’s shoulders, touching their foreheads together.

Bianca wrapped her arms tighter around Courtney’s waist. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now, come on, let’s go have some dinner.”

“Vegan nut loaf sounds horrifying, by the way.”

“It’s really good, I swear. There’s mushroom gravy.”

“Oh, well, then sign me up!”

Courtney giggled as Bianca lifted her up from the bed and started to carry her down the hall.