#again if anything here is wrong lmk or if any vi people have things to add please do!!

[hatchetfielddescribed]

i know they exist, but i haven't been able to find any posts about writing image ID's while searching (tumblr's search function is, as always, busted), so i'm going to try my best to give folks a few pointers about writing them. full disclaimer that i am not visually impaired, nor do i use a screenreader, so let me know if anything here needs to be changed, and please feel free to add on if you are vi!

- first off, do not alter the text of an image description. do not italicize/bold it, do not make it a different color, do not make the text any smaller, and do not put it in a difficult to read font. all of these things still make it inaccessible/hard to read. these don't typically interfere with a screenreader, but not all visually impaired people use them.

- keep the text alongside the image, rather than under a cut or below a long caption. it makes it easier to access quickly, and if you delete your blog/change your url, people will not be able to access the text under the cut from a reblog.

- keep the description objective. do not say things a long the lines of "a beautiful painting" or "a funny meme". rather, use descriptive, objective words ("an intricate oil painting", for example).

- something is better than nothing. two sentences summarizing your image is leagues better than leaving it blank. it doesn't have to be a grand, overtly detailed description. i personally can't always write detailed descriptions, due to fatigue and other disabilities. again, something is better than nothing!

- from my knowledge, while details are good, it isn't always necessary to describe every single detail of a post, especially in more detailed pictures. describe what's important, should be conveyed, or is notable about the picture (colors, lighting, poses, actions, characters, dialogue, scenery, etc.). it's good to be detailed and convey the core ideas, but it doesn't have to pick apart every single bit.

- from my knowledge, it's best to try and avoid breaking the description up into paragraphs. when it comes to some screenreaders, people will have to tap on each individual paragraph. instead, it's usually better to divide descriptions of multiple photos in a post with a / or by simply saying "the first image, the second image, etc".

- a description should not be put exclusively in alt text. tumblrs alt text feature doesn't always function well, and again, not all visually impaired people use screenreaders. without a description outside of the image, people will frequently not be able to access it.

- when adding an id in alt text, you do not need to start it with "id" or "an image of", but rather with what type of image it is (ie. a painting, a photograph, etc.). from my knowledge, screenreaders will automatically start with saying it is an image

- if someone writes a description for your post, PLEASE add the id to your ORIGINAL post. we WANT you to do that. if you do, then people finding the post in the tags will see the accessible version. adding it in reblogs alone means that there are going to be many versions of the post without the description. often times, people writing descriptions do not care about credit (though i suppose it doesn't hurt), we just want your post to be more accessible.

- don't be afraid to ask for someone to write a description for you, if you can't do it yourself. you can also ask folks more used to writing them to help you get started, and feel free to model your id's after someone elses. it's okay! please do it!

[strawhatpoofy]

It’s a Love-Hate Thing

characters: frat boy!hawks x f!reader, brief mentions of mirko and members of the LOV

genre: smut. nsfw. 18+

notes/warnings: frat!au, college!au, hate-sex, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, mentions of political science (deffo the scariest thing in here), swearing uuuuh lmk if i forgot anything

words: 3.6k

If someone were to ask you how you ended up here, you would have bitterly pointed towards your now drunk roommate, Rumi. She had spent two hours begging you to accompany her to Lambda Omega Vi’s biggest party of the year: their post-rush celebration. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had an avid hatred for greek life, the LOV’s ‘brothers’ were renoundedly the douchiest boys on campus.

Yet, Rumi had pleaded with you, and bargained with dish duty. If you went, she would do all of the dishes for a month. She knew as soon as your eyes narrowed and head titled that she had you. After some fluttered lashes and a sweet pout, it was a done deal. And, damn, were you pissed.

You stood in the corner of a musty, bare living room. There was something bassy and synthetic pumping through a large speaker, and sweaty bodies mingled in the middle of the room. From the sidelines, you played a little game you had made up after your first quarter on campus.

That one is Shiggy; his lips were always chapped, and skin always parched, yet there was always a gorgeous girl attached to his arm. Jin was running the game of beer pong; people around school called him Twice, but the stories always varied as to how that name originated (you heard it was ‘cuz he gave the same girl an STD twice). As your eyes flitted around the room, your face contorted in displeasure. The LOV really was the bottom of the barrel.

That’s when you saw him. The bane of your fucking existence. Keigo fuckin’ Takami. What a prick. You had the displeasure of meeting Keigo in your second quarter Intro to Political Thought class. It was a large lecture, and you sat in the back, making sure to keep at least a few seats between you and the nearest person. You were only taking this class as a GE, and had no interest  in making friends with the poli sci majors. Of course, when Keigo came in, he plopped down in the seat right next to yours. His knee bumped yours and he had a sleazy smirk on his face.

He did that every lecture-bumped into you, lazily grinning and never saying a word unless it looked like you were about to get up and move. Then he would need a pencil, despite the one sitting on top of his notebook, or he’d ask for a piece of gum, or ask you to catch him up on the reading he didn’t do. Thus, you were trapped with him for a painful ten weeks. As the quarter progressed, so did his shameless fuckboy behavior. No matter how scathingly you shut him down, he was on you like a fungus.

When you had found out he was part of the LOV, it made everything click. Some girl had come up to him during one of your last lectures, batting her eyelashes, and when you heard her call him Hawks oh so sweetly, you didn’t let him live it down. Every time you saw him it was, hey Hawky, you absolute dumbass. He simply played along, calling you princess and his little dove with a dazzling smile each time. And fuck if it didn’t make you want to bash your head against a wall.

Thus, this is what your relationship became; any chance meetings across campus after that first class together consisted of his shameless flirting and your anti-fraternity war, which always inevitably turned into more bickering. Others would snicker when they witnessed the two of you, resulting in your heads whipping around to face whoever it was, sure to make a point of letting them know just how much you couldn’t stand each other.

So here you were, glaring at him from across his living room, while his arm was thrown around some wasted sorority girl. You nursed your cup of spiked punch, wincing at the cheap alcohol with every sip you took . Then, Keigo caught your gaze. Your eyes locked with his for far too long, but you weren’t going to back down first. Eyes narrowed, you worked your hardest to force all of your anger and hatred into your stare. But when he winked, you practically spit up your punch. You scoffed and flipped him off, turning away after drinking in his initial expression of shock.

Working your way into the kitchen, you smiled behind your cup. Damn, that felt good. Maybe it was petty, but fuck that guy. As you reached the chip bowl, you felt a hand curl around your wrist. You jumped in surprise, whipping around to see Rumi giggling and looking up at you.

“Hey (Y/N)! Hi. Ok, so I know I begged you to come with me, and I know you’re my ride. But um,” she glanced behind her and as your eyes followed her gaze, you understood what she was getting at. “I think I’m gonna uh, catch a ride with Dabi right now.” She was biting her lip, “I’ll still do the dishes for a month, I swear. And the good news is you can totally leave now!”

You sighed and nodded, muttering a just be safe and text me, then she was running off, jumping into who you assumed was Dabi’s arms. After watching them disappear, you went to dump the rest of the punch down the kitchen sink. No point in staying here any longer. Thankfully you had barely had anything to drink, so all that was left to do was grab your purse and get the hell out of here.

Up the stairs, second door on the left. That’s where your stuff should have been. Every time you had been to one of these parties, the hosting fraternity usually offered up a safe room for everyone to keep their belongings. This time it was someone’s bedroom, and when you walked in only to  see your purse wasn’t where you had left it, panic began to rise in your throat. There was no way someone had taken it, right? Then, the door behind you shuts, the lock clicking.

“Looking for this, doll?”

Oh absolutely not. Keigo stood in front of the door, your purse dangling from his fingers, that same unbearable smirk on his face. You didn’t respond, instead crossing your arms and stalking over to where he stood. “You know, I didn’t really appreciate your little stunt earlier, (Y/N). I thought we were buds!” He was looking down at you, mock hurt across his face. The fact that he remembered your name made your pulse jump just the slightest.

“What the fuck do you want, Hawks?” You spat out the nickname, taking a step back from him so you could look him level in the eyes. He put your purse behind him and took  a step closer.

“Aw, c’mon dove. You know I only like it when you use that special little nickname lovingly.” Keigo’s hand was on the back of his neck, and the display of bullshit modesty made you roll your eyes. In the back of your mind you were thinking how adorable he looked, but you shook those thoughts from your head.

“Keigo, I’m trying to go home, and I don’t understand what the fuck you think you’re doing in here, or what little game you think you’re playing, but you better get out of my way.” You were desperate to sound in control of the situation, but your voice had softened half way through. Of course he noticed, and he took another step towards you.

“I just wanted to see why you thought it would be cute to do me dirty like you did down there, dove. What could I have done to deserve being embarrassed like that in front of my guests, hm?” He imitated you, crossing his arms. His chest was puffed out a little, but he was still smirking at you

You attempted to make a snatch for your bag, but he was too quick.

“Tsk tsk tsk. C’mon now darlin’. Thought you were smarter than that.” His arms had shot out and caught hold of your shoulders. His grip was like steel, and you were starting to feel a little uneasy. He was staring down at you like he was a predator, and you were already a dead thing he had dragged into his den. “I think I’m gonna need an apology for all the trouble you’ve been causing me tonight, dove.” He was shoving you down, and your knees hit the rug on the floor with a thud.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You were looking up at him, his hands still on your shoulders keeping you against the floor. You despised the way his surprise show of strength forced heat to rush between your legs. One of his hands left your shoulder to cup your cheek, a finger hooked under your chin.

“I’m just doing something I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you last year. Don’t you think you could behave? Don’t you think you owe me some sort of apology?” Keigo was frowning now, gazing down at you through his lashes. Fuck, he was gorgeous. “Now be a good girl.” His hand cupped your face, thumb leaving your chin to trace your lips, while the other left your shoulder and started working on his pants.

“W-what are you-” You were cut off by Keigo shoving his thumb into your mouth, and when you let out a little hum, he beamed down at you. He was unzipping his jeans, doing his best to pull them down with one hand. It was then you noticed his cock hardening under his pants.

“Look at you, already cooing for me. Thought you were gonna give me a harder time than this, dove. What a slut.” He was mocking you, you were sure of it. Yet at his words your cunt clenched. Still, he was wrong; you were gonna give him a hard time. You bit down on his thumb, and he hissed. “Fuck, you really are a brat. Better not try that when I have my cock in that smart mouth of yours.”

He pulled his cock free from his boxers, and your eyes widened just the tiniest bit. He wasn’t particularly thick, but long, with just a hint of a curve. His cock was was throbbing, and he grabbed himself with the hand that was previously pulling down his pants.

When he squeezed himself, he tensed up and shuddered. “Alright dove, open up.” He slapped the head of his cock against your cheek, leaving a trail of precum. He tapped it again against your bottom lip when you refused to take his orders, and something about the obscenity of Keigo smacking your face with his cock had your mouth dropping open involuntarily.

“Good girl, I knew you had it in you to be a good girl for me.” Both his hands wrapped into the hair at the back of your head, and without a second of hesitation, he’s fucking your face.

His hips are thrusting lazily, and his cock is hitting the back of your throat. Your gagging and whimpering only seems to egg him on, and he pushes your face forward until your nose is against his pubic bone. You’re trying to fight the heat rising in your belly, but it’s no use. Impossibly, this is  the hottest thing anyone has ever done to you.

“Aw, darlin’, look at you crying over how I fuck that smart little mouth of yours. Does it hurt? Feels so good for me, dove. Love watching you cry too.” You hadn’t even realized the tears falling from your eyes, too busy focusing on your breathing. While you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Keigo in a sexual way, you definitely had never pictured anything like this. Yet, you were enjoying yourself almost as much as he was.

You glanced up at him, eyes watery and lashes heavy. His face was flushed pink, his lips parted and breath panting. He was holding you against him as if you two were glued together, practically grinding against your face, cock pulsating against your tongue. The whines falling from his lips were music to your ears; he was gasping and sputtering, hips moving a little bit more erratically. The wetness in your panties was growing, along with your frustration. There was no way he was going to cum just like that and leave you here to pick up the mess; there was no way you were gonna let him use you.

When your teeth gently grazed his cock and you started shimmying away from him, Keigo groaned, head falling and hands tugging on your hair. You pulled off of his cock with a pop, stood up, wiped your face of any tears, and pulled your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry, birdy, but I am gonna give you a hard time. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” You squirm around him while he’s trying to catch his breath to grab your purse. It’s almost in your clutches when you’re slammed against the door.

“Think I’m gonna let you leave just like that, dove?” His voice is hot in your ear, and his hands are holding yours above your head, pinning them to the wood of the door. “Think that being a brat is gonna keep me from taking what I want?” He presses his still bare, still throbbing cock against your ass.

You stifle the groan begging to be let out, instead opting to egg him further. “I think you’re a real piece of shit, Keigo. Just another no good, douchey frat boy.”

“Hm, yeah I bet you do. Doesn’t mean you’re not gonna let this douchey frat boy abuse that slutty pussy of yours though, right? Gonna let me take advantage of you even if you fuckin’ hate me, isn’t that right, dove?” He smells like body wash and faintly of beer, and his skin is burning everywhere it’s touching yours. At his filthy words you keen, and rut your ass against his cock. “Mmm, of course you are. All bark ‘nd no bite, huh?”

He puts both of your wrists in one of his hands, and lets the other wander down. His fingers graze your waist, pushing up the material of your t-shirt. Then he’s moving up, hand cupping your breasts, fingers grazing against your nipple through the thin material of your bra. You whine and continue pushing yourself against him, wanting more.

“God, you talk too much Keigo. Too scared to actually fuck me? I doubt you’d be able to make me cum. Bet most the girls you’ve been with have faked it-” You know what you’re doing is dangerous, but you’re already here so why not. Keigo lets out something akin to growl, rumbling from deep in his chest. He’s pulling your shirt over your bra, then tugging the skimpy material down under your breasts.

“Alright, now you’ve really pissed me off brat. I’m gonna make it so the only words you remember are my name and please.” He pinches a nipple, twisting the sensitive nub between his fingers, and bites down on your neck. A moan is pitching from the back of your throat when he brings his hand up from your tits, clamping it down over your mouth. “You’re not gonna make a god damn peep unless I give you permission to, dove. Now just fuckin’ behave and keep your hands up high like that for me.”

He releases the grip he had on your wrists, and you can already feel the bruises that will be covering them tomorrow. Suddenly he’s working on your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping with minimal fumbling, and yanking your pants and panties down in one swift motion. Once they’re past your knees, and your ass is bare to him, he’s humming in approval, hand gliding over your cheeks, grabbing, kneading, pinching.

Finally, he’s running a finger across your slit, avoiding your clit, just barely fluttering past your hole, only touching your pussy enough to collect your wetness on his fingertips.

“Such a high and mighty attitude, but look at you princess. So wet, and I’ve barely touched you. All that just from sucking my cock?” You can feel yourself start to whine against his hand, wanting to shoot back some bitchy response, but when he hears your voice starting up in your throat, he shoves two fingers into your mouth. “Nuh uh, dove. Told you not a sound til’ I say so.”

Right as he says it, he pulls your hips back, giving himself the perfect angle to slam his cock into you. There was no warning, just his cock head suddenly kissing the entrance of your cunt and then the pleasurable stretch of being filled. His fingers shoved themselves backwards into your throat in time with his cock, as if to prevent you from even the littlest bit of noise at the intrusion.

The pace he sets is ruthless, and apart from his pants and whines, the only sound in the room is skin hitting skin as his hips fuck up against your ass. Your knees start to quake, and you paw at the door, relishing the cool feeling of the wood against your skin as compared to the heat of Keigo’s. Your pussy is fluttering; he’s hitting all these spots inside of you with minimal effort, and each time you clench around him he leans forward to press a kiss against your neck.

“Alright pretty girl, I’m gonna take my fingers outta that smart mouth now, and the only thing I wanna hear is how good I’m making you feel. Can tell by the way your sluttly little hole clenches around me that I’m makin’ you feel good, dove.”

As soon as his fingers leave your mouth your gasping and whimpering and making the prettiest noises Keigo’s ever heard. If only he could hear you like this more often, instead of you running your mouth at him. He let himself hold on to the musing; he would absolutely love to fuck the hatred you had for him right out of your body. Ain’t no time like the present.

He’s fucking you with more fervor now, in his mind he has a goal. Your head feels light as he eggs you on, practically begging you to use your words and tell him how good he’s making his little dove feel. God, every time he calls you that you’re practically seeing stars. Still, you don’t want to comply, to give him the satisfaction, but then his cock finds that weak spot inside of you and you’re babbling out praises.

“K-Keigo, feels so good. You’re making me feel so good. Fuck. God dammit.” You want to hate that one of your least favorite people is making you drip all over his cock, but it just feels perfect and you can’t even think anymore about all the nasty things you’ve said to each other beyond the context of now, of fucking like it’s the only thing you two should have ever been doing.

When his hand reaches down to play with your clit, you’re practically lost to the world. The only thing that matters is here and now and the feeling of it all. Your nails are scratching against the door, and you’re confident anyone walking by would get an unpleasant earful of two idiots going at it like there’s no tomorrow. You’re mumbling and whining and grinding your hips up to meet Keigo’s thrusts.

He doesn’t think he can hold himself back much longer, not with the way you're mewling and squirming and fluttering all over his cock, and he’s about ready to beg your orgasm forth. “C’mon dove, can’t have you on my cock all night. Need you to cum for me. Gotta feel you cum on my cock, darlin’.” His thrusts are sloppier, and his head is resting on your shoulder. He’s abusing your clit, rubbing harsh, tight circles, and his other hand is attached to a nipple, kneading and pinching.

“Fuckk-k, please (Y/N).” His voice is airy and needy, and hearing your name fall from his mouth like that brings your orgasm crashing down on you. Your muscles spasm as your pussy clenches down on Keigo’s cock, and he lets out a moan as he cums with you. He fucks both of you through your highs, burying his cum deep in your cunt.

Then he’s pulling out, his head still on your shoulder, when you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled up. You feel a chill as he pulls away from you, ass bare, dripping with cum.

“Well, that was fun, huh smart ass?” Keigo is looking in a small vanity mirror situated on the dresser in the bedroom, fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt. You stand up, legs wobbly, thighs sticky, head spinning. “Maybe we could do it again some time; I think I like you more when you’re fucked stupid and can’t talk shit at me.” He shoots you a wink and a smirk, and you stand there, in front of the door blinking at him.

“So uh, I have a party to get to downstairs, and it looks like  you were gonna be heading out anyways. Might wanna um,” he gestures to your undressed state, then gently guides you out from in front of the door. “Well, catch ya later dumplin’.” With a grin and, was that a fucking shaka, Keigo is out the door. You hear his footsteps fading down the stairwell, and you begin to process what just happened as you fix your clothing and grab your bag.

That little son of a bitch.

[artificialqueens]

Fever (Vatya) - Honey

A/N: Violet’s sick. Taking care of her turns into a two-man job.

This is a vatya fic (what else do I ever write???) but there’s some nice Trixya and Violet + Trixie moments in here. Can you guys lmk if you like this, I haven’t written anything for a while and I really wanna know if this is what people like. If you have any ideas for me or just comments please tell me so I can write better!

Katya woke up in his bed feeling confused. He felt an arm gently draped around his waist, which meant that Violet was still asleep next to him, but by the way the light was shining in through his bedroom window, he could tell that it was late in the morning, way later than he was used to waking up.

Katya was not a morning person. He never had been. He simply preferred to stay up as late as possible, and then wake up the next morning whenever he felt like it. Being a drag queen only encouraged this behavior. Recently, he had been forced to slightly change his schedule, due to the fact that Violet Chachki was currently staying with him at his apartment for a few weeks, and more specifically, sharing his bed.

The one thing that bothered Katya about sleeping in the same bed as Violet was that she was such a morning person. She woke up early, around 8 or 8:30 AM, and would quickly get bored and decide to wake him up as well, usually by pouncing on him. If he resisted, she might stick her hand down his boxers and give him some extra motivation to wake up. Katya wouldn’t say that mornings with Violet weren’t enjoyable, he just thought they might be a little more enjoyable if all the action happened at a slightly later time.

Katya was understandably confused. It struck him as odd that Violet had been able to sleep until 11 AM, as he confirmed by checking his watch. Even on the days where neither of them had anything to do, she would only let them to sleep until about 9, and even that was pushing it. Katya peeled Violet’s arm off of his stomach, and realized that it was very clammy. Looking at her face pressed up against the pillow, he could see that she was pretty sweaty, her long hair plastered to her forehead and neck. Wracked with worry, Katya pulled the covers off her and began to rub her bare back.

“Violet, sweetie, wake up. Are you alright?” Violet’s eyes fluttered open. She took a few seconds to yawn and stretch, and then laid still.

“Katya?”

“Yeah, Vi?”

“I don’t feel so good.”

——–

“Well, you do have a slight fever,” Katya confirmed, pulling the thermometer out of Violet’s mouth and reading the tiny screen. “100.8 degrees.” Violet looked annoyed. She was still laying down, while Katya was standing up next to the bed. “Hey, don’t get mad at me! I’m just the messenger, you know!”

“I’m not mad at you, Katya. I just hate being sick. It fucking sucks. Like, what a waste of time. I could be doing so much today, but instead I have to stay in bed!” She punched the pillow under her weakly and groaned. Katya did his best to keep a straight face, but it was hard for him not to laugh at the little bitch fit Violet was throwing. “I needa pee,” She grumbled, and then pulled herself up from the bed and wandered to the bathroom. He could tell by the way she walked that she barely had any energy. Katya went to the kitchen and brought back a cold, damp washcloth. When Violet walked back into the room, she was still just as grumpy. She flopped onto the bed on her stomach and buried her face in a pillow, letting out a muffled groan. Katya put his hand over his mouth and snickered silently at the drama of her behavior. Once he was able to stop laughing, he kneeled on the bed next to her.

“Here,” he said, placing the washcloth on the back of her neck, “use this to cool off.”

“Thanks,” Violet mumbled, turning her face towards him. “Kaaat, all my muscles are soooore,” she whined. Without another word, Katya swung his leg over her and sat himself on top of her ass. He began to massage her back.

“Feel good?” he asked her. She nodded her head against the pillow. Well, that shut her up, Katya thought.

——–

While Katya couldn’t get Violet to eat anything, (“I’m just not hungry, Katya!” she had moaned, and he knew she wasn’t in the mood to argue, so he gave up,) he did finally get her to take a nap. They had spent the rest of the morning cuddling and watching television until he noticed her dozing off. Katya was finally able to start packing his bags. He had a gig scheduled for that night, but it was over two hours away, which meant he was going to have to leave his apartment early in order to get there on time and be able to do his makeup. He felt bad for having to leave Violet alone, but he couldn’t just cancel a gig because she was sick. Katya worried that she might not eat a proper dinner and just stay in bed all day, which wouldn’t help her get better at all. He decided to make sure she wouldn’t starve. Picking up his phone, he left the room and went into the kitchen to make a call.

——–

Violet woke up from her nap to Katya rubbing her shoulder gently.

“Violet, I have to leave for my show tonight. I’ll see you when I get back, yeah? Actually, you better be sleeping by the time I get back, so I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Violet stuck her lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Hey, don’t gimme that face, you rotten little skunk!” He climbed on top of her, his hands and knees on either side of her on the bed. “I can’t disappoint all the fourteen-year-old fans who sneak into my shows, I just can’t!” He leaned down and kissed her sweaty forehead. “Okay, listen, I’m having chicken soup delivered in an hour, and you better eat it.” Violet rolled her eyes.

“Yes, dad, I’ll eat it.” Katya pinched her cheek until she swatted his hand away in annoyance.

“Okay, I’m leaving for real now.” Katya made his way to the door of the bedroom. He looked back at Violet, laying in his bed and staring at him. “Just… be nice, okay?” he pleaded, and then left without another word. Be nice, Violet thought, confusedly. To whom? She didn’t dwell on it, and turned the television back on, snuggling into the warm spot Katya had left in the bed.

——–

Violet woke up to knocking on the door. She realized she had fallen asleep again. Must be the soup Katya ordered, she thought. Clamoring out of bed, she made her way slowly to the door and opened it up. To Violet’s surprise, she found Trixie standing there, holding a brown paper bag and smiling.

“Hey, Violet. How ya feelin? Katya told me you’re sick? I brought you soup, it’s from that really good place on Hollywood, you know the one.” Trixie rambled on, with Violet just standing there, staring at him. The two usually got along well, Katya made sure of it, but Violet was just not expecting Trixie to be down with running errands for her benefit. Trixie would go to hell and back for Katya, she knew this, but for Violet? They weren’t quite at that level yet. There was always a sort of underlying rivalry between them, both subconsciously competing for Katya’s attention. Katya knew how to handle it, of course; she always balanced them out nicely. But Violet couldn’t help but always feel just a little bit of tension between herself and Trixie.

“So… can I come in?” Trixie asked. Violet realized he had been both staring at Trixie for the past minute and blocking the doorway.

“Oh, right,” she mumbled, and moved out of the way, clearing a path for him.

Trixie made his way to the kitchen, and Violet could hear the clanking of silverware. “Make yourself right at home, Trixie,” Violet mumbled under her breath. She plopped herself down on the couch, but then was too tired to stand back up and grab the remote by the TV, so she just stared into space.

Trixie walked back into the room with a decent-sized bowl of chicken soup and a spoon. He sat down on the couch next to Violet and held out the bowl for her to grab. Violet did not make an attempt to move, and just stared at Trixie, and then the bowl. She looked like she was gathering up the will to move her arms. Trixie knew he shouldn’t piss her off, but he couldn’t help but let a read slip out of his mouth.

“Aww, does the baby need to be fed?” Violet almost decided to use all the strength she had to knock the bowl of soup right out of Trixie’s hands. Almost. She was not in the mood for his teasing. Instead, she settled on laughing weakly.

“Just put it down on the table, I’ll eat it later,” she sighed.

“It won’t be hot later. You should eat it now!” Trixie asserted, and Violet thought he sounded just a little too pushy. She detested being told what to do. Her natural instinct to defy orders kicked in, and she decided to push back.

“No, Trixie, I think I’ll just have it later,” Violet said, raising an eyebrow. She didn’t expect him to keep going.

“Or, and hear me out on this, how about you eat it right now?” Violet looked up at Trixie’s unsmiling face and realized that he was serious. Violet was confused; she would have never expected Trixie to act so… nurturing. Maybe he would be this way with Katya, but never with her. The two had a five-second-long staring contest, until Violet broke the silence.

“Trixie,” she said slowly, “why are you being so annoying?” Trixie hesitated, but he just decided to come clean.

“Okay, don’t be mad, but Katya asked me to make sure you finish your soup and take your medicine.” Violet squinted at him.

“Oh, great, so he basically asked you to babysit me. Wonderful,” she snarked. Trixie rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Violet. Katya’s my friend. And so are you. He just feels bad that he can’t be here right now, and he knew you probably weren’t gonna eat anything on your own. Am I wrong?” Violet looked away from Trixie but didn’t say anything, silently confirming what he had just said. “Can you just let me help you get better? It’ll have you back to stripping and dancing around on stage in your underwear in no time.” Trixie laughed at his own attempt at a joke. He waited for a response from Violet, but she continued to avoid eye contact. Trixie was worried that she would stay pissed at both him and Katya, which in turn would make Katya sad. To his relief, Violet slowly reached out and grabbed the bowl of soup from his hands. She rested it in her lap and began to take small spoonfuls.

The two sat in silence for about a minute, Violet eating and Trixie just watching her. Finally, Violet broke the silence.

“What else did Katya say about me?” she mumbled, not looking up from her soup.

“Well…” Trixie contemplated. He wanted to phrase his answer as well as he could, so as not to get on Violet’s or Katya’s bad side. Katya had a habit of gently mocking Violet to him, and he didn’t think that either of them would appreciate it if she found out. “Katya said that you hate being sick, and that you probably wouldn’t want to eat your soup, and that he feels bad that he couldn’t hang out with you tonight.” Trixie could detect a hint of a smile on Violet’s face, but she only responded with a satisfied, “Oh.”

Trixie recalled the actual conversation he had with Katya.

“Trixieeee,” Katya whined, immediately after he had picked up the phone. Trixie sighed into the phone dramatically.

“What do you need, Katya? You only whine like that at me when you’re asking a favor.” Trixie liked to act annoyed, but he and Katya both knew that he really didn’t mind doing anything Katya asked him to.

“Well, it’s just a little favor. Can you pick up some soup and drop it off at my apartment tonight for Violet? She’s sick, and being a total brat about it. You shoulda seen the fit she was throwing earlier, you would’ve laughed.”

“Katya, you do realize that you can just order soup and have it delivered, right?” Katya went quiet for a few seconds.

“Yeah… it’s just… would you mind going inside and making sure she actually eats it?” Trixie took the phone away from his face and shrieked with laughter. Katya waited until Trixie’s shrieks died down a bit before speaking again.

“Stop laughing!” he yelled, although he was laughing as well. “I told you, she’s being a brat! She didn’t want to eat anything earlier, and if she doesn’t eat something today, I’m gonna have to come home to a hungry, cranky, sick little monster in my bed!”

Trixie thought the whole situation was hilarious. He felt like he was actually being asked to babysit the devil.

“You really do baby her!” Trixie accused.

“You think I don’t know that? But I can’t help it, okay? Please, Trix, just help me out here?” Katya begged.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it. But if I get sick, I’m invoicing you for the doctor’s bills.”

——–

Violet finished the entire bowl of soup, which didn’t take very long, because once she started eating she realized she was actually starving. As she ate, she had unconsciously been leaning closer and closer to Trixie until she was touching him, her shoulder pressed against his. She only noticed this when Trixie grabbed the empty bowl from her hands and got up to go put it in the sink. As soon as he stood up, she tipped over and laid down across the whole couch. She closed her eyes and stayed still, her head spinning a little.

Trixie came back to the living room and saw Violet sprawled out, lying on her back, her eyes shut tightly.

“You okay, Violet?”

“Yeah, m’fine. Just kinda dizzy. You don’t have to stay anymore, Trixie. Thanks for the soup.” she said, at a volume that was barely above a whisper. Trixie felt an odd range of emotions. Seeing Violet so vulnerable was foreign to him. He guessed that Katya must see this side of her more often, but to him it was pretty new. Staring at her sad little face, he decided he could kind of understand how it was so tempting for Katya to baby her. Kind of. Without another word, Trixie walked into Katya’s bedroom and retrieved a soft blanket and one of his pillows from the bed.

Violet suddenly felt warm. She opened her eyes and looked up at Trixie, who was draping a blanket over her shivering legs. He walked over to the TV stand and grabbed the remote, and then came back to the couch. Grabbing Violet’s shoulders, he lifted her upper body off the couch and slid himself under so that her head was resting in his lap. She was too tired to protest, so she just let him move her around however he wanted. Pushing her head up for a second, he slid a pillow onto his lap and then let her rest her head on it. She looked up at him, and the two made eye contact for a few seconds before Violet just shrugged and rolled over onto her side, her head remaining in Trixie’s lap. He was sort of surprised at his own urge to take care of her.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Turn on the TV, Tracey,” Violet ordered. Trixie rolled his eyes (even though she couldn’t see it) and handed the remote to Violet.

“You pick, since you’re the one that’s dying.” Violet smacked his leg.

“You wish I was dying, bitch. Then you could have Katya all to yourself!” Trixie made exaggerated puking noises.

“Are you kidding me, Violet? Ever since you two started… uhh… doing whatever disgusting things you do to each other, Katya hasn’t tried to kiss me once. It’s a miracle. I can’t thank you enough for that.” The pair laughed, and then fell into silence as Violet turned on the TV and chose an old episode of Project Runway. Trixie rested his hand on her back and dragged his knuckles lazily up and down her spine. He could tell she was about to fall asleep by the way her breathing slowed. Trixie picked up his phone from the arm of the couch next to him and quickly and quietly snapped a picture of Violet in his lap without her noticing and texted it to Katya. His response was almost immediate.

Katya: I’m shocked that you two are getting along. I thought you’d have left in frustration by now

Trixie: she said she liked the feeling of laying on someone who didnt feel like a grizzled corpse, i figured i should stick around

Katya: Fuck off

Trixie: bitch im joking Trixie: but i think shes actually asleep now Trixie: i can finally stop listening to that voice. do you ever just get the urge to stick a gag in her mouth?

Katya: Well, yes, but in a different context than you’re thinking about

Trixie: ew omg tmi

Katya: You brought it up

Trixie: true… you got me there

Katya: As much as I would love to continue this conversation, the show’s about to start so I gotta go.

Trixie: Break a leg

Trixie looked down at the now sleeping Violet in his lap. She didn’t look like she was going to wake up anytime soon, so he was basically trapped. He dropped his phone on the couch next to him and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Before he knew it, he was falling asleep as well.

——–

Katya dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved his keys. He checked the time on his phone. 4 AM. Violet better be sleeping, he thought to himself. As soon as his gig was over, he had left and drove all the way back home, skipping out on any after parties. It was a long drive, but he just wanted to get home and check on Violet. He had texted Trixie a few times after the gig, but he hadn’t even opened any of the messages, so Katya figured Trixie had gone home and went to bed already.

Unlocking his door, he quietly pushed it open and stepped into the living room, only to find Trixie sitting upright, his head bent all the way back on the couch, completely knocked out. Violet was in the same position from Trixie’s picture, sleeping soundly in his lap. The lights and TV were all still on in the room. Katya put all his bags down in the doorway and tip-toed over to the pair. He gently tapped Trixie’s arm while rubbing Violet’s back, in order to wake the both of them. Violet woke up first, and looked up at Katya confusedly.

“Huh?”

“Violet, sweetie, you fell asleep on the couch. Go to bed, I’ll be in there in a second,” Katya ordered. Without a word, Violet dragged herself off of Trixie and stumbled down the hall and into the bedroom. Katya was pretty sure that she wasn’t fully awake, and probably would not remember any of the interaction in the morning.

The loss of Violet’s weight caused Trixie to wake up as well. He straightened his neck to its normal position and groaned from how stiff it felt. Katya just stood up next to the couch, shaking his head and smiling.

“What?” Trixie asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can’t believe you were really gonna sleep like that all night!”

“Well… I didn’t wanna move her! She might’ve bit my head off!” he protested, his face turning slightly red. The two of them both knew that Trixie was developing a bit of a soft spot for Violet, but Katya decided he wasn’t going to press the issue any further. Instead, he just laughed and moved on.

“So, you can sleep here if you want, I’ll bring you a blanket and pillow,” he offered. Trixie just wanted to avoid any awkwardness the next morning, so he opted to go home.

“Nah, it’s fine. I think I’m good to drive home. But thanks for the offer. I’ll see you later, Kat.” With that, he grabbed his phone, got up from the couch and stretched, and then opened his arms towards Katya. Katya walked over and pulled him into a hug.

“Seriously, Trixie, thank you for everything,” Katya said into Trixie’s shoulder.

“Of course. Anytime,” Trixie mumbled back.

——–

When Katya finally climbed into bed, it was almost 5 AM. Violet was already curled up in a ball on her side, but when Katya pulled back the covers and got in, she half opened her eyes and wiggled over to him. He opened his arms for her and pulled her in close.

“Jeez, Violet,” he scolded, “go to sleep already.” He began to run his fingers through her long hair until she stopped moving and fell asleep, hopefully for the last time that night.