#fuck it feeling lesbian in chilli's tonight

[cauldronofmorning]

That jawline though.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Take A Slice

Part Six: WARNING! BULLSHIT INSIDE!

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,761

Warnings: Blackmail, a bit of angst??, some self hate, talks of drugs, aftermath of violence, talks of cheating.

Summary: It just keeps getting worse and worse.

A/N: Bold and italics = Text Messages.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

You were out of it. Completely and entirely, out of it.

The soft feeling of the red-heads plump, strawberry and sugar flavoured lips, pressing against the side of your neck. Her hand, trailing up your sides, pushing and pulling at your shirt. With Natasha humming against you gently, it vibrating into your throat, as she ground against your hips underneath her.

And yet.

Even with all that she was gifting you with, you still weren't able to focus on any of it.

"What's up with you?" Natasha asked, her red lipstick smudged, and probably all over your neck, too.

"Hmm?"

"You're out of it. What's running through that head of yours?"

"Oh." Shit. "It's nothing. Just a little distracted, is all."

"I see that." She took your jaw between her hands, soothingly rubbing her thumbs into your skin. As she gazed down at you with soft eyes. "Anything I can help with?"

God, she was too good to you. Too good for you.

And you had to bring this bullshit into her life. Sometimes you wished that you had never stepped foot in her class, that way this, could have all been avoided. And all because of those fucking texts you got, two weeks ago.

You had to tell her.

You had too.

"Nope." You shook your head.

You suck.

"You sure?" Natasha asked, a humoured smile overtaking her face, "You still having trouble spelling, 'Nietzsche'?"

"His name sucks, okay?!" you exclaimed, making laughter bellow out of Natasha.

You watched her with soft eyes, you adored her laugh. Adored her everything, really. Her hair, falling over her shoulders, the sun shining through the windows, causing the red strands to glow. Summer had just sprung, almost as if it came to chase the girl in your arms.

You were playing a dangerous game.

But, you knew that from the start.

Now, though? Now? It was more dangerous than before.

Because now you were falling for her.

And that was not going to lead to anything good.

Not with all that is happening.

"His name is hard to spell," Natasha agreed breathlessly, with a small nod.

Dread filled you when your phone suddenly buzzed beside you.

Remember what I said.

Natasha noticed the anxiety flood into you, she was worried about you, never seeing you like this. Staring at your phone with fear-filled eyes.

Lucky for you though, she was unable to read any of the messages that had been sent to you.

Nor the next one's that came through.

You know when and where.

Do. Not. Be. Late.

You inhaled sharply, eyes finally finding Natasha's worried ones when you spoke.

"I'm sorry. I have to go."

"What? Why?" she asked, having to move off of you before you ended up pushing her off of you.

"Y/N? Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Just-" Quick think of a lie! "-Wade reminded me about a test we both have tomorrow. And I haven't studied for it at all."

Natasha got up with a chuckle, moving to place her hands upon your chest.

"You have always been on top of your studies, haven't you?"

You shrugged, too busy pulling on your socks and shoes, whilst trying to locate your jacket. You were going to need it tonight when it was chilly.

"Hey," Natasha soothed, "Don't worry so much. Why don't you stay here? I'll help you study. I'll even reward you every time you get a question right."

You groaned internally.

Why did she have to go and say shit like that?

"I'm sorry, babe. I'd love that. I really would," you pressed as if to make her understand how much you were telling the truth, as you pulled her in by her hip, "But I promised Wade, we would study together. He's worse at this class than I am."

She laughed breathlessly.

"You two really are the dynamic duo, aren't you?"

It was quiet for a moment, as you moved away from her. Ready to head out of her apartment, when she continued.

"You could always bring him, too."

"What?!" You span around to face her.

"Obviously the "rewards" would be off the table, then. But I would love to meet your friends. At least your best friend. I want to be in your life like people in more normal relationship's do. As long as they keep the secret."

Why was she so fucking perfect.

"But Nat, you've already met Wade, remember?"

She licked her lips with a smile. Memories of that morning, and what lead up to it, flashing through her mind.

"Of course, I remember. I meant I would like to get to know him."

"God. You are perfect." You walked up to her, pulling her into a passionate, love-filled kiss. "I'll set something up later. He'll probably want to play some video games with you."

"Fine by me. I'll kick his ass."

"I'm sure you will, honey." With a peck on her forehead, you turned, grabbing your jacket, calling over your shoulder as you left, "I'll see you soon."

"Good luck."

She didn't know how much you needed it.

***

Rumlow.

That fucker.

He was the one doing all of this to you. Blackmailing you. Forcing you to pick up and drop off drugs, like a fucking mule.

And there wasn't even a reason you could think of as to why he was doing it. Other than "he could".

The only reason you found out was, thanks to the guy you were dropping the drugs off too, was really chatty. And wouldn't keep his mouth shut about anything. That, sadly, included every intimate detail about his sex life.

But at least now, you could put a face to the messages.

And somebody to confront.

"Why?"

""Why" what?" you ask back. Hissing as the alcohol-soaked cotton wool ball pressed against the cut on your lip.

The itch for a smoke rattled throughout your body, hands almost shaking in your state. But you had told Natasha that you would try and cut down smoking for her, and God damn if you were, unbeknown to her, bringing this shit into her life, you could at least do this for her.

"Why did you get into a fight with Rumlow?" Wade clarified.

You took the few moments he gave you as he reached into the first aid kit to think over your answer. You debated on whether or not you should tell him the truth. After all, you hadn't even told Natasha as of yet.

But you just couldn't keep it to yourself anymore.

"He's blackmailing me."

Wade dropped the haemorrhoid cream for your black eye onto the floor, his shocked face snapping to face yours, that was still void of emotion.

"What? What do you mean that bastard's blackmailing you? What with?!"

"I'm a fucking idiot," you hissed at yourself, tears springing into your eyes. Elbows resting on your knees, as your head came to lay in the palms of your hands, "It was my idea."

"What was?" He placed a hand upon your shoulder, stood before where you sat on the kitchen worktop.

"I filmed up having sex. Nat agreed to it. But fuck, if I hadn't of brought it up..."

"Hey! Don't do that," he told you firmly, "It's not your fault that someone is using your private life against you."

You didn't reply to him. Your jaw only ticking, as you shook your head. Still kicking yourself for it.

"Does she know?"

"No," your voice was raw as you thought about your girlfriend. Your perfect girlfriend. Who didn't deserve any of this.

"You need to tell her."

"I know... I just- I just wanted to sort it out, before I ever had too. But now, that's not gonna happen."

"Because you kicked his ass? You did kick his ass, right?"

You smiled, wincing at the pain your split lip caused you.

"Hell yeah, I did." Flinching slightly, as Wade began rubbing the cream onto your bruised eye. "But no. It's not because I kicked his ass. Although that might be part of it now... he was never gonna let it end. He just wanted me to be his lapdog for a while, then run me outta Dodge."

"Lapdog how?"

You shuck your head. "I was basically his drug mule."

"Y/N-"

"It was only hookie weed, but still. I'm sure he's into funkier stuff. He was talking about cocaine with someone on the phone when I confronted him."

"And yet, you didn't share with me," he joked. It was the only thing he really could do before he sighed sadly, "He wanted you out of town?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"No idea. He just yelled at me after our fight, that he wants me outa here. That's all her was blackmailing me for. But, my best guess is that he thought he could "get some use" out of me, before then.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I have no idea. I can't let Natasha lose her job over this shit, man. She loves teaching. Said that it was all she's ever wanted to do."

"Talk to her."

"Yeah, I will soon. I just- Is it so bad that I wanna live in denial, and just be happy with her, for a little while longer?"

"No." Wade shook his head. "You're just in love."

You hummed in agreement. You seriously couldn't believe how fast you fell for that woman.

"Since when did you become so wise?"

"I've always been wise, fuck you for not seeing it."

You were incredibly lucky to have a friend like Wade Wilson. You just hoped you didn't have to leave the people you cared about behind.

Only time would tell.

But first.

First, you had to talk to Natasha.

A small smile was pulled upon your face, while you watched your best friend and roommate walk away with the first aid kit, to return it to its place in the bathroom.

Then something you came to dread happened.

Your phone vibrated.

Pack your bags and move out of the fucking state. Or I post your precious video onto the school's website.

Homepage, baby!

Bet she'd look real good up there.

Maybe there will be a porn future for her after she gets fired.

This will teach you for fucking my girlfriend.

Well, shit.

***

Take A Slice Tag List: 

@wannabe-fic-writer​, @ohfuckno​, @uglipotata72829​

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000

[steveandbucky]

feeling very ✨ alienation ✨ in this chilli's tonight

don't vibe with the bis don't vibe with the lesbians idk where i belong yeah queer is a great label but what am i actually why am i neither of these two im tired of the conflict in my head im tired of people telling me it doesn't matter i wanna know who i am.

i feel like im just living the comphet life. still.

i feel like if ur only ever into queer men ur not into men actually. not even the ~ masculine ones. they're masculine in the gay way idk what to say

im only into femininity. not traditional definition. not social norms or anything like that. im not even feminine or if i am it's my own doing. no one can make me do performative gender behaviours lol never been that kinda gal

this is just fucked up idk can't someone tell me what im supposed to be. remove all nurture and tell me what i am in my bones.

have i been lied to or lying to myself or is it really fluidity or is it maturation and self-discovery and how long before a phase becomes a long term state of being

happy pride ig

[centralpark1981]

i love when my mom goes through my laptop when i’m not in the room and almost finds out i’m a lesbian lol

[starshineandbooks]

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces. 

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

   Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

   Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

   The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

   “Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

   Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

   “HELP ME!” It rings again.

   A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

   The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

   Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they��re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

   Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

   He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

   Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

   Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

   Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

   “Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

   “You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

   “That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

   Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

   “Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

   “Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

   Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

   “Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

   “Get up.”

   Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

   “Then get up!”

   “It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

   “Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

   Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

   What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

   God, what will he tell Thomas?

   “Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

   “Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

   But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

   “Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

   Except that.

   How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

   “Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

   Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

   A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

   Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

   “Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

   Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

   “Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

   Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

   May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

   Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

   “Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

   And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

   The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

   “‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

   “Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

   She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

   “Don’ let them be too sa-”

   “Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

   Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

   And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

   “Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

   Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

   And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

   Then, “Vatti?”

   A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

   As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

   Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

   “Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

   “Mamaw-”

   “Upstairs Linda Marie.”

   Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

   “He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

   “Mamaw-”

   “Now. One.”

   “But-”

   “Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

   “I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

   Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

   “What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

   “The truth, I’d imagine.”

   “You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of  faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

   “So he was.”

   “I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

   May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

   “We’ll see you hag.”

   “Shuddup.” May scoffs.

   And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

   ----------

   Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

   “Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

   Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

   “Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

   “We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

   “Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

   Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

   “He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

   Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

   “Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

   A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

   To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

   “Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

   “I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

   “We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

   “But-”

   “I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

   “Virgil-”

   Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

   “We-”

   “You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

   “Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

   May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

   ----------

   Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

   “Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

   “I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

   Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

   “Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

   “They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

   Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

   “Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

   Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

   “Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

   “How are you so-”

   “Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

   “O-oh.”

   “I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

   Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

   “I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

   “Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

   Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

   “It wasn’t your fault.”

   “You can’t know that!”

   “I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

   “I’m still sorry.”

   Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

   He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

   “Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

   “Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

   “We- was he in pain.”

   Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

   “He was-” Dot swallows hard.

   “Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

   “You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

   “I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

   “O-oh.”

   “Hey uhm….” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

   “But-”

   “You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

   “But.”

   “You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

   “Thomas-”

   “Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

   Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

   “Go.”

   ----------

   Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

   Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

   Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

   He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

   Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

   Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

   “C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

   Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

   “Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

   “No.” Virgil says, “No.”

   “Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

   “No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

   “But- what about daddy and pop?”

   “Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

   “O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

   “Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

   “I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

   Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

   “Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

   “I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

   ----------

   Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

   It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

   Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

   As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

   He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

   “Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

   “I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

   “You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

   “You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

   “I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

   Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

   Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

   Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

   “It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

   “I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

   “What?”

   “I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

   “Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

   “I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

   “Maybe.”

   “Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

   Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

   Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

   “O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

   “Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

   Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

   “I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

   “Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

   “Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

   “Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

   “YEAH?!”

   “C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

   She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

   “Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

   “Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

   “I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

   “Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

   Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

   “I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

   “Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

   “Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

   Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

   And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

   Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

   Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

   Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

   Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

   Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

   Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

   May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

   Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

   Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

   Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

   Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

   Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

[artificialqueens]

Ms. California, Chapter Six (Crygi) - Mik

A/N: I am SO sorry for taking so long to update! I had the worst case of writer’s block ever, and I had midterms this week. Thanks for being patient. I hope this makes up for my lack of posting!

Summary: Crystal moves to Los Angeles from Missouri and meets Gigi Goode, captain of the varsity cheer squad. Queue the 1990s lesbian high school AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

It’s been two weeks since Gigi announced to the cheer squad that Crystal was, in fact, her friend. And those two weeks had been delightful.

Every day, Gigi made a point to either sit with Jackie, Crystal, and Jan at lunch, or pull Crystal over to the squad’s lunch table. Crystal found herself beginning to enjoy getting to know the group: most of them were, to her surprise, funny, genuine, and generally good-natured. She especially found herself clicking with Nicky and Jaida. Although they were standoffish at first, Crystal quickly bonded with Nicky over her interest in fashion (although many would consider Crystal’s taste questionable at the very best, Nicky seemed to think it was “perfectly unique and lovely”) and Jaida over being the “new kid”, as she had moved from Wisconsin just a few years prior.

When Gigi first began sitting with Crystal, Jackie, and Jan, Jackie seemed to be pensive. She kept quiet and let the other three girls do all of the talking. However, this changed as soon as Gigi talked about what it was like sneaking into gay clubs in West Hollywood. Jackie lit up, asking questions about it for almost the entire lunch period. Crystal knew Jackie wanted nothing more than to have an out-and-proud gay community surrounding her - she was the only one of the four who everyone knew was gay. Gigi promised that she would accompany Jackie, and the other two girls, on one of the “18+” nights that the clubs held. From then on, Jackie seemed to gradually warm towards the blue-eyed cheerleader.

Gigi would drive Crystal home most days, often electing to come inside to do homework and cook dinner. The two would spend the first hour unable to focus, finding themselves tangled up in Crystal’s bed, lips attached and make-up smudged. Eventually, they’d compose themselves and start homework until Crystal’s mom arrived home. She’d hug both girls, and the three would automatically make their way into the kitchen. Gigi had made the comment that she felt, in many ways, that she was already closer to Crystal’s mom than her own. Crystal felt sad for her - Gigi never talked about her family and assumed that the situation was less-than-ideal - but her heart soared when she saw the blonde and her mom in fits of laughter together. Gigi would eat dinner with her family most nights, and Crystal would kiss her goodbye through the window of her magenta convertible before she drove home. They had fallen into a comfortable routine and Crystal could not have been happier.

~

Crystal is sitting with Jackie at their secluded lunch table, sketching the outline of a bird for an art project while Jackie flips through her government textbook. It’s a strangely gray day in Los Angeles and Crystal almost wonders if it will rain: the sun is completely hidden behind fog and dark clouds and it’s chilly enough that Crystal wishes she’d brought a hoodie with her to school.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she hears Gigi’s familiar laugh from a distance. It’s light and high-pitched and it makes Crystal light up. She turns around to see Gigi making her way over with Jan; they’re both wearing their cheer uniforms and Crystal doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone look as stunning as Gigi does.

“Hey girls!” Gigi says as she sits down next to Crystal.

“Hey!” Crystal grins. “You look uh, really pretty in your uniform,” she says in a hushed tone. It’s the first time she’s seen Gigi in it.

Gigi blushes. “Thank you.”

“So, we were talking about what we could do tonight after the game!” Jan interrupts, nudging Jackie softly to get the girl to look up from her textbook.

“What’s that?” Jackie asks, shutting the book.

“What if we all had a big sleepover?!” Jan suggests excitedly.  

“Where?” Crystal asks.

“Jan’s house, her mom is really cool,” Gigi explains.

“Yeah, she knows about Jackie and I and is like, super happy for us,” elaborates the other blonde.

“She’s just happy that you’re finally dating someone who hasn’t had all of their braincells tackled out of them,” Jackie quips with a smirk.

“Ouch. But you’re not wrong,” Jan laughs, “I guess football guys aren’t always the brightest tools in the shed.”

“So, what do you think?!” Gigi interjects.

“I’m up for it!” Crystal agrees quickly, excited to spend more time with both of her new friends and her… whatever Gigi is to her.

“Jackie?”

“Obviously!” Jackie smiles.

“Yay!” Jan and Gigi simultaneously exclaim.

“Will you gals come to the football game, then?” Jan asks.

“I guess,” Jackie decides hesitantly.

“I’ve never been to a football game,” Crystal says. “I’ll give it a try, though. Why not?”

“You and I can just hang out at the top of the bleachers and read, Crystal,” Jackie tells the curly-haired girl.

“For sure.“

“Oh, come on, where’s your school spirit?! You gotta cheer the team on!” Jan jokes with her girlfriend and Jackie rolls her eyes playfully.

The wind begins softly blowing, making Crystal shiver again. She doesn’t understand California weather - it’s usually hot enough that she feels like she needs an ice bath, but right now, a warm sweater and some hot chocolate sounds delightful.

“Crys, are you cold?” Gigi asks.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Crystal assures the blonde, trying not to shiver as another gust of wind blows through.

“You look like you’re cold, I’m giving you my jacket,” Gigi tells her decidedly.

“Gi, no, you totally don’t have to -”

“Here,” Gigi says, pulling off the purple letterman’s jacket.

Gigi drapes the heavy jacket around Crystal’s shoulders. The jacket is huge on her, probably because Gigi is so much taller than she is, and it envelopes her in warmth. Crystal can’t help but notice that it smells like vanilla - exactly like Gigi.

“Thanks,” Crystal blushes as Gigi leans in closer to her.

“You look really good in my jacket and I really want to kiss you right now,” the blue-eyed girl murmurs matter-of-factly.

Crystal’s face heats up more, and although she’s (kind of) gotten used to hearing compliments from Gigi, her brain still seems to short-circuit whenever Gigi says something sweet.

“Get a room!” Jackie laughs, noticing the romantic tension between the two.

“Maybe we will,” Gigi responds, raising an eyebrow. “Crystal, I think I left something in my car that I need some help with.”

“Oh, yeah, the um… the thing!” Crystal stutters out.

Gigi stands, motioning for Crystal to follow her.

“I’ll see you girls later tonight! And Jan, make sure to be on time for warm-ups today!” Gigi calls out, waving back at Jackie and Jan.

“How much longer do we even have at lunch?” Crystal asks once they’re in the parking lot.

“I don’t know, probably fifteen minutes,” Gigi guesses.

They walk briskly to Gigi’s car, and the second the doors shut behind them, Gigi captures Crystal’s lips in a heated kiss.

Crystal is sure that she’ll never get tired of the way that Gigi’s plump lips move softly against her own or the way that Gigi’s hands feel gripping her hips or the way that Gigi always bites down softly on Crystal’s bottom lip after she lightly drags her tongue across it. It’s all nothing short of magic.

Their kissing becomes increasingly passionate, and before Crystal knows it, Gigi tentatively moves her hands below the older girl’s shirt. Crystal lets out a quiet moan as Gigi’s hands make their way up her hips, her fingertips ghosting over Crystal’s ribcage.

Crystal knows this is all very “high school”; her best friends at home had countless stories about making out - or more - with boys in their cars. Crystal never thought she’d be one of them, but here she was, teenage hormones raging.

Crystal’s breath hitches when Gigi’s fingers brush over the side of her chest. Gigi breaks the kiss, still not moving more than a few centimeters away from Crystal.

“Is… that okay?” she whispers.

Crystal nods, reconnecting their lips.

Gigi hesitantly places one of her hands over Crystal’s breast and gently presses her hand against it, eliciting a slight gasp from the shorter girl. The blonde caresses her chest, and Crystal can feel her heart racing. She can’t think about anything but Gigi: Gigi’s hand moving languidly against the fabric of her bra, the feeling of Gigi’s heartbeat, the taste of Gigi’s breath in her mouth…

They’re interrupted when the lunch bell rings out, loudly enough that the two can hear it even from the confines of Gigi’s car.  

“Fuck,” Gigi stammers.

“We should uh, get going,” Crystal attempts to slow her breathing.

“Definitely,” Gigi agrees breathlessly.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“We should… try that again, not in your car,” Crystal says, her cheeks pink. She almost wants to laugh at how completely and utterly cliché this situation is: if they weren’t both girls, would this not be equivalent to the quintessential high school experience of getting felt up in some boy’s car?

“I’d like that,” Gigi says, regaining her composure. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Crystal says, adjusting her shirt.

They walk into the gates of the school, parting ways at the entrance.

Crystal realizes she’s still wearing Gigi’s letterman’s jacket and smiles.

~

“You did what?!” Jackie yells, wide-eyed.

Crystal and Jackie are sitting in Crystal’s bedroom, getting ready to go to the football game. Crystal could care less about supporting her school’s team, or “school spirit” as Jan referred to it, but she painted purple and white streaks on her cheeks anyways. If anything, she thinks Gigi will find it cute.

“Yeah,” Crystal replies to Jackie sheepishly.

“Weren’t you scared of someone seeing?! Not even a student, but like, a teacher!”

“Not really, my mind was… elsewhere,” Crystal replies honestly.

“You’re braver than I am, I’ll give you that,” Jackie mimics Crystal’s idea, dragging purple and white face paint across her own cheeks. “I’m scared to even kiss Jan on the cheek in the car. Or anywhere on campus.”

“Yeah, it might not have been the most responsible idea, in retrospect,” Crystal admits.

“Just be careful, I’d hate for people to find out about you guys,” Jackie warns.

“I don’t plan on people finding out,” Crystal assures her. “On that topic, what’s the deal with Jan’s mom?”

“What do you mean?”

“She just… knows about you guys? And lets you have sleepovers?” Crystal elaborates.

“Yeah,” Jackie smiles. “I remember the day her mom found out. We were laying in her backyard, drinking smoothies, and her mom was supposed to be at the gym. She got home early, I guess, and saw Jan lean in and kiss me.”

“What did she do?”

“She knocked on the window and Jan completely freaked out. She ran inside, and her mom apparently just asked if we were dating, and Jan tried to say it was nothing and completely innocent. Her mom didn’t buy it, and walked outside and asked me . I can’t lie, and I thought she was angry, so I said yes and offered to leave.”

“Was she mad?”

“Oh god no. She gave Jan a hug, and gave me a hug, and said she was happy that if Jan was going to be dating in high school, it was someone like me. It was the first time I’d ever heard that,” Jackie’s eyes light up.

“That’s insane, and really sweet,” Crystal muses. “My parents are both really great, but I doubt they’d respond like that.”

“Mine definitely wouldn’t. I’d be disowned in a second.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” Crystal sympathizes.

“Don’t be. Jan’s mom does a good enough job at making me feel like I’m a part of their family.”

The two spend the rest of the time getting ready in relative silence. Six o’clock rolls around, and the pair make their way downstairs to ask if Crystal’s mom can drop them off. Jackie doesn’t want to deal with parking at school during a football game.

“Hey mom! We’re ready to go,” Crystal tells her.

Her mom looks up at her from the book she’s reading. “Oh honey, you two look adorable !”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiles.

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Crystal’s mom asks.

“No, I think we’re staying over at Jan’s - Gigi will drive.”

“Sounds good!” Crystal’s mom grabs her keys. “Let’s get going, then!”

The car ride is short and sweet; it’s filled with small-talk and her mom’s bad taste in music.

“Have fun and be safe, girls!” Crystal’s mom calls out as the two exit the car.

Crystal waves, telling her mom that she loves her, and sets off towards the bleachers with Jackie.

“So, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t uh, really want to sit in the back the whole time,” Crystal laughs.

“Oh?”

“I mean, I wanna like, cheer on Gigi or whatever,” she says. Crystal is wearing the blonde’s letterman’s jacket, and she feels like the girlfriend of the high school quarterback.

Except she isn’t Gigi’s girlfriend and Gigi is the head cheerleader.

“That’s… cute. Okay, well, fine by me,” Jackie shrugs.

The two sit several rows back from the front, far enough away from the over-zealous fans but close enough that they can still see the field, waiting for the game to start.

“Do you come to these much?” Crystal asks.

“Not as much as Jan would like, I’m sure,” Jackie shares. “I guess now that I have you to come with, I’ll come more.”

“It’s like a reverse double-date, or something,” Crystal laughs. “I never thought I’d be sitting at a football game for a girl .”

“I never thought I’d actually make a friend at this school,” Jackie says seriously, attempting to cover the serious nature of her statement with a laugh.

“Come on, you have other friends, right?”

Jackie shakes her head. “I came out and everyone dropped like flies. That and being the weird Persian kid kind of kills my ability to have a social life.”

“Geeze, I’m sorry, Jackie.”

“Hey, I’ve got you and Jan, and oddly enough, Gigi is back in my life, so I can’t complain, can I?”

The game starts, and all of the football players make their way onto the field. The cheerleaders run out shortly after, and Crystal cranes her neck to see her favorite blonde. She stands front and center, leading both the audience and the squad in chants. Gigi is bubbly and upbeat and in her element; she dances and kicks and does the splits and Crystal is nothing short of amazed by her. Next to her, Jackie smiles at Jan and waves to her several times when the squad has a break. Jan beams up at her, waving back each time.

Crystal couldn’t say who won the game, or how many points were scored; she knows next to nothing about sports and was far more entertained by watching Gigi down on the field than the game itself. When the game is over, she and Jackie make their way down to the field to wait for their respective blondes.

Crystal sees Gigi emerge from the field, a smile painted across her face.

“Gi, you were awesome!” Crystal grins, hugging her.

“I’m glad you had fun!” Gigi says enthusiastically.

“Sorry that I sort of stole your jacket,” Crystal apologizes. “You probably wanted it during the game.”

“It looks much cuter on you,” Gigi winks. “Plus, I kind of like seeing you in my jacket.”

“Gross!” Jan jokes, elbowing Gigi. “Are you lovebirds ready to go?”

“I’m ready,” Crystal nods, and Gigi agrees.

“Great! Mom said she’d order pizza for us all!”

The four head to Gigi’s car; it’s less than a five minute drive to Jan’s house from the school.

Jan’s house is surprisingly large; Crystal isn’t used to the gigantic houses that seem to line the streets in Los Angeles. Jan unlocks the door, yelling to tell her mom that she’s home.

Jan’s mom emerges from the kitchen, approaching the door.

“Hi, sweetie, how was the game?” she hugs Jan.

“It was good, we won!” Jan tells her.

“Hello, Jackie!” Jan’s mom moves to hug her daughter’s girlfriend. “You look adorable with your face painted like that!”

“Thank you! It was Crystal’s idea.”

Jan’s mom turns to look at Crystal. “You must be Crystal, the girls have told me so much about you! It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Crystal reaches out to shake her hand, and much like her own mother, Jan’s mom pulls her into a hug.

“We’re big on hugs here, handshakes are for strangers!”

Crystal laughs; she thinks her mom would get along swimmingly with Jan’s.

“And Gigi, you don’t get to avoid my hugs, either!” Gigi laughs as she’s wrapped in a hug. “I’m so glad to see that you aren’t third-wheeling with these two anymore!”

“Hey, she never third-wheels!” Jan laughs, faux-scowling at her mom.

“Well, I’m just happy you have a girlfriend, it’ll give you all some super fun double-dates, I’m sure! You make a cute couple!”

“Oh, we’re not gi-” Crystal begins to correct her before Gigi talks.

“Thank you, hopefully Crystal can get Jackie out to more games!” Gigi jokes.

“Let’s hope! Anyways, what kind of pizza do you girls want?”

~

The four sit on Jan’s living room floor, eating pizza on a mountain of sleeping bags and pillows as It plays in the background. Jackie is cowering into Jan, clearly terrified of the movie that her girlfriend insisted that they watch.

Crystal has seen it before - it’s one of her favorites - and Gigi seems almost as freaked out as Jackie is. The blonde has trapped Crystal’s hand in a death grip and Crystal swears her fingers are losing circulation. She can’t bring herself to care; the sensation of Gigi’s hand in her own is inarguably one of her favorite feelings.

“Why did we have to watch this movie?” Jackie squeaks out. “It’s so… violent.”

“It’s a masterpiece, babe!” Jan debates.

“It’s gory.”

“It’s interesting!”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Jackie says, continuing to hide behind Jan.

Crystal has to stifle a laugh - their exchange is adorably hilarious, and she thinks that they’re perfect for each other. She looks down at Gigi, who has buried her head in Crystal’s arm, and squeezes the blonde’s hand.

Her mind wanders as the movie plays on. Gigi didn’t tell Jan’s mom that they weren’t girlfriends and wonders if Gigi is interested in being exclusive. Crystal hasn’t thought about it much until this point - she’s been enjoying living in the moment with Gigi - but now the thought won’t leave her mind.

She can see herself in a relationship with Gigi easily. They’ll go on dates and fall asleep next to each other and surprise each other with flowers and Crystal will show up at all of Gigi’s cheer events with enthusiasm. She wants to wear the letterman’s jacket every day, and she never wants to go a day without feeling Gigi’s fingers intertwined with her own.

Crystal’s thoughts trail on until the end of the movie. Jackie has fallen asleep in Jan’s lap and Jan is lazily stroking her curly, dark hair as she, too, begins to drift off. Gigi is wide awake, still clutching Crystal’s hand.

“Do you wanna go sit on the porch?” Gigi asks Crystal quietly.

Crystal nods, and the two stand. Gigi has clearly been over to Jan’s house enough that she knows exactly where to go, because she leads Crystal to a sliding glass door. They sit down on the wooden porch in Jan’s backyard, and Crystal lets out a contented sigh as Gigi plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for coming tonight. It really, really means a lot to me, Crys.”

“Hey, of course. I like watching you, you look so happy when you’re cheering.”

“Not as happy as I am when I’m with you,” Gigi hums.

“That was cheesy,” Crystal jokes, wrapping her arm around the blonde.

“Look what you’ve done to me, Crystal Elizabeth. You’ve turned me into a complete dork! I’m almost as bad as Jan!” Gigi jokes.

Crystal can feel butterflies fluttering around in her stomach when Gigi uses her middle name - it feels like a term of endearment.  

“Who said dorky was a bad thing? I happen to think your dorky comments are adorable - or should I say, adorkable!” Crystal laughs.

“Okay, now that was bad,” Gigi snorts.

“You love it.”

“I know.”

The two sit in silence, wrapped up in each other’s arms, enjoying the cool night air.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Gigi breaks the silence.

“What’s up?” Crystal asks.

“I hate to be that girl that asks this question, but like… what is this?”

Crystal doesn’t know how to answer - she doesn’t know what will be too much for Gigi and doesn’t want to scare the girl off. She doesn’t want to look inexperienced and over-eager.

“I, uh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it,” Crystal lies.

“Oh.”

“Not that I don’t want to think about it!” Crystal quickly follows up. “What do you think this is?”

“Hey, not fair! I asked you first!” Gigi giggles.

“I mean, I really like you. Enough that I went to my first high school football game in four years for you.”

“I really like you too, Crystal.”

“So…” Crystal trails off, avoiding the question she knows she needs to ask.

“You’re going to make me be the one to say it, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Crystal feigns innocence.

“Crystal, I want you to be my girlfriend,” Gigi declares.

Crystal presses a light kiss on Gigi’s lips before replying.

“Gi, I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

Gigi leans her head on Crystal’s shoulder and throws her arms around the older girl’s waist. Crystal runs her fingers through her blonde hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as the two sit in a comfortable quietness.

Crystal can’t think of anything better than this.

[thicctransboi]

Hii! Could I request gender bent grizzam? They're friends and they like each other but are too shy to admit it. One summer night they're stargazing and girl!Grizz starts asking girl!Sam how do you sing night sky related stuff. Could you add the dialogue from the scene where Grizz asks how to sign "kiss me" and the talk they have afterwards? This fandom is a better place because of you and your fics, dude

Thanks so much!! Here you go:

Gender bent! Grizzam One Shot

“More than friends?”

(Gender bent Grizz on left, Sam on right)

Samantha Eliot, often referred to as ‘Sam’ by her close friends and family, made her way up the stairs as quickly as she could after dinner to retrieve her phone. Family dinners meant no phones allowed, and she knew she probably had a few missed texts from her best friend. Her best friend being Georgia Visser, who Sam called ‘Grizz’ ever since they were in middle school. Once she got to her bedroom and retrieved her phone from her nightstand, she did, in fact, have three missed texts from Grizz.

The most recent one was what caught her attention: ‘Hey, can I come over? Practice sucked and the stars look nice tonight. -GrizzV

Sam was more than excited, trying not to sound too eager when replying: ‘Yeah, come on over. Meet me in the back.’

Sam had admitted to herself a long time ago that she had a huge crush on Grizz. She had ever since Grizz had found out she was deaf and tried to learn sign language for her. Which, she had accidentally picked up a British sign language book and Sam couldn’t tell what she was saying. Ever since then, Sam was whipped. But, she kept it a secret. Not that she was a lesbian, everyone knew that now. But the fact that she was head over heals for her best friend. She was 99% certain Grizz was straight. Grizz had had plenty of boyfriends in the past, not to mention a fair share of hookups that she was never shy to tell Sam about, much to Sam’s dismay. Plus, their friendship was so important to Sam. Aside from her childhood best friend, Becca, Sam didn’t have any other friends. And Grizz meant the world to her. So, she was determined not to fuck it up by admitting her feelings. No matter how much it hurt her to do so.

After changing into some sweat pants and a sweater (it was fall in New England so it was quite chilly at night) Sam snuck out to the back yard and waited for Grizz to arrive. Looking up at the night sky, Grizz had been right, the stars were great tonight. Dozens of fireflies lit up the trees in Sam’s back yard, and the stars seemed to sparkle like diamonds above her. The cool falltime air was chilly, but nice. It felt so good against Sam’s skin.

Sam nearly jumped out of her own skin when she felt a pair of all too familiar hands grip her shoulders, causing her to jump and turn around, smacking Grizz across her shoulders. “I hate it when you do that! Fuck you!” She said through shaky laughter.

Grizz was very obviously laughing. Oh, how much Sam wishes she could hear Grizz’s laugh. “I know you do, but I couldn’t resist! You were in your own little world.” Grizz smiled one of her breathtaking smiles, her nose scrunching up. God she was so cute. Even when she was all sweaty from lacrosse practice. “Shall we?” She asked, gesturing to the grass.

Stargazing was a norm for the pair, so Sam didn’t need to guess what she meant. Settling down in the grass and sitting with her legs crossed, Sam watched as Grizz lowered herself to the ground as well. Grizz was quite a bit taller than Sam, not to mention ten times more graceful due to her athleticism. It was impossible not to watch her.

The pair sat there for some time, just gazing up at the stars and basking in the cool air. Sam didn’t need Grizz to explain why she was here. She already knew. Grizz Hayes lacrosse a lot due to the lack of brain cells by her teammates. Grizz was smart, very smart, and was easily frustrated by people who don’t use their brains. So, they sat in silence.

The stars were so bright, hundreds of constellations were visible.

“Hey, Sam? Do you know what constellation that is?” Grizz asked after awhile, pointing up at the sky.

Sam squinted her eyes. “No, what is it?”

“Beatlejuice. How do you sign that again?”

Sam finger spelled it for her. “Since when are you trying to sign again? Don’t you remember what happened last time?” Sam teased.

Grizz rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up. I just thought, since I only know a few, I’d make it easier on you.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I can read lips.”

Grizz shrugged. “I know. I wanted to be able to talk to you, you know, in your language.”

Sam blushed. “Oh...” was all she was able to say. She looked up at the sky again, wondering if that was a sign or not. Probably not. But still, she held on to the hope that it was.

“What’s the sign for Star again?” Grizz asked.

Sam showed her.

“Can you teach me one more phrase in sign language ?” Sam nodded. “How do you say kiss me?”

Sam went red, what did that mean? Could Grizz be.... no. No. That couldn’t be it. But then, she noticed how Grizz’s eyes were trained on her lips and she decided to take a chance. After all , what’s life without a little bit of risk?

Leaning in closer to Grizz and reading her expressions, Sam noticed Grizz leaning in too. So, she cupped Grizz’s face gently, taking a deep breath, and slowly closed the gap between them, connecting their lips.

Sam felt elated. Like her whole body had suddenly burst into heavenly flames that only Grizz could ignite. Her heart was pounding. She felt Grizz kiss her back and she felt like she might pass out then and there.

Grizz was the first to pull away, giggling softly. “That was uhm- that was nice.” She said, blushing.

Sam blushed in return, waving her fingers through her ginger locks nervously. “Yeah... it was. Why did you.. I mean- have you always wanted to do that?”

Grizz nodded. “Of course I have. I just didn’t know how to say it before. I didn’t just fuck this up did I?”

Sam shook her head. “No no, Of course not. I wanted to too... so, did you ever notice me before now? In that way I mean.”

Grizz laughed, flipping her hair back. “Of course I did. That’s why I stayed away from the subject.”

“Why?!” Sam said, giggling.

“I dunno. I was caught up in being straight.” Grizz said. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

[geralehane]

A Faeverse Story: The Park Fae

(faeverse is my new series of interconnected short stories about fae and their girlfriends interactions with humans.)

Lenny first meets her when she’s walking Rem on a chilly spring night. She notices her because Rem, being the extremely friendly young dog she is, lunges in her direction, eager to make friends. Otherwise, she’d probably remain a faceless silhouette in the shadow of a broken streetlamp.

First time she sees her, she’s tugging on the leash in an attempt to restrain her dog and pull her away from the bench. She mentally thanks her past self for deciding not to let Rem off the leash until they are deeper in the park. If she had, Rem would’ve reached the bench in no time and actually leapt at the person, instead of simply panting excitedly a few feet away from them. The rushed apology at the tip of her tongue dies when she glances at the seated stranger and realizes she’s not paying any attention to them. She’s staring at her phone, brows furrowed in deep thought as she doesn’t blink. There’s nothing particularly unusual about that - Lenny herself has received plenty of comments about her resting angry scowl when she’s browsing through something. People often mistake the look of deep concentration for discontent.

Except the girl’s phone is off. Lenny blinks, but shrugs it off after a second of confusion. She doesn’t know that girl, and she doesn’t know her story. Perhaps, she’s waiting for an important call. At midnight. Alone in the park.

But, like she said – she doesn’t know her story. So she simply takes a turn and walks away, the brief thought about the girl’s beauty - apparent even when obstructed by darkness - quickly forgotten as she hurries to keep up with a happily strutting Rem.

She probably wouldn’t think twice about the chance encounter – okay, maybe a couple of times, not more – if she didn’t run into her again the very next day, at the exact same time. Seated on that very bench, the girl quickly smokes, each puff shaky and each exhale rushed and tense. The streetlamp she’s under is repaired, and it illuminates her surprisingly soft features and blonde hair, painted golden with the warm light. She looks to be around Lenny’s age, maybe a little younger, but definitely in her early twenties.

Once is a happy coincidence. Twice is a pattern. Thrice could be fate if one believed in it. Lenny’s not sure she does. She is sure, though, suddenly, that she wishes there were a third time. Just so she has something to approach the girl with. Because tonight, she turns left before she reaches the bench and hastily walks away, for once grateful for Rem’s near-obsessive determination to sniff things that are a mile away.

She doesn’t think she can explain her sudden flight. It may or may not have something to do with the girl’s strikingly gentle beauty. Lenny thinks any artist would be ecstatic to paint her, warm golden hues and soft strokes covering the canvas, not one harsh line in sight. And, even though she can barely sketch a table, she perfectly envisions the piece in her head. Along with the sweet buttery smell of French toast, and the scent of freshly pressed orange juice on a sunny, lazy Sunday afternoon, when pajamas are never taken off and there’s only place for two in the entire tiny world of a small apartment filled with slow smiles and touches and smooth blonde hair scattered across the pillow…

Rem attempts to chase a stray cat, jostling Lenny out of her thoughts that are bordering on creepy, and she shakes her head as she scowls at herself. You literally just met her. No, you didn’t even meet her, you just saw her for a total of two times and ten minutes. Calla, her best friend, has said on a number of occasions that she couldn’t be more of a lesbian stereotype if she donned a thousand flannel shirts. This is certainly one of those occasions, she thinks with an involuntary grin as she imagines Calla scoffing at her when she tells her about this.

Sighing, she calls for Rem to go home, and tells herself not to look back.

The girl’s silhouette is still on the bench when she does. //

Lenny’s vague, unclear wish comes true the next day. The girl is still there. For a brief, insane moment, she imagines her to be the park fae, messing with people’s heads and wearing them down before luring them to vanish in a different, colorful, gorgeously terrifying world.

She doubts, though, that the park fae would look this… sad. Desperate. Even if creatures like that existed, the girl is still undeniably human. And tonight, her expression is more broken, and because of that, Lenny can’t keep putting the inevitable off.

“Uh,” she clears her throat as she shortens the leash, hoping Rem won’t jump. “Hi.”

The girl blinks, as if shaking off a daze, or a daydream, and slowly turns her head to meet Lenny’s increasingly scared eyes. “Hello?” She asks more than states, arching one brow.

Lenny swallows. Right. “I, uh – I couldn’t help but notice you… sitting here,” this is not going well, “alone and – do you need help? I mean, if you--”

“I,” the girl interrupts before Lenny digs a deeper hole for herself and a smaller one for Rem just because she refuses to die of embarrassment alone and she’s a horrible person who’ll drag her dog down with her, “am fine. You need to mind your own business.” She glances at Rem who’s curiously wagging her tail and attempting to come closer, and Lenny sees a brief, amused smile escape her before she shuts down and turns her attention to her phone, this time with its screen lit up.

The lightbulb has already gone off inside her head before Lenny has a chance to smash it into a million pieces. Rem. She likes Rem.

And you still don’t know anything about her – and now, you’ve been given a pretty clear instruction to fuck off, she reminds herself as she mumbles an apology and rushes to get out of there. Besides, using her dog to – what? chase the notorious get the girl cliché? – get closer to someone doesn’t feel right.

A plan’s already forming, however, and Lenny doesn’t know if she’s really powerless to stop it or if she’s just telling herself she is.

//

“I’ve always wanted to say it like they do in bad comedies, so thank you for the opportunity,” Calla happily informs her. “So here we go. You did what?!”

Lenny can’t help a short laugh despite the feeling of deep embarrassment spilling in her chest. “I, Lenny the useless lesbian, let Rem off the leash for the sole purpose of getting a girl’s number,” she says solemnly, trying – and failing – not to snicker. This whole thing is just so – absurd.

Calla’s dirty blonde curls bounce as she shakes her head in amusement. “You’re using her,” she says, faux accusatory. “She’s using you, hon.” Rem only yawns at that as she lays sprawled out next to Calla on Lenny’s couch, her head resting in her lap. Calla chuckles and scratches at Rem’s droopy ears. “Maybe the usage is mutual,” she notes.

“Hey. My dog loves me.”

“And yet she chooses my lap over yours every time,” Call rebuffs playfully. “But back to that girl. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t – ugh,” Lenny throws her arms in the air, exasperated with herself. “I used my dog as a means to a questionable end. I’m horrible.”

Blue eyes roll at her. “Alright, school production of Hamlet, calm down. Did you score or not?”

“Would I be sitting here disappointed with myself if I did?”

Her friend shrugs. “Hey, I don’t know your life. Maybe.” Except Calla does know her life. Sometimes, she knows her better than she knows herself.

“Well, I didn’t,” she huffs, standing up from her chair and plopping onto the couch next to a grinning Calla. “Why do I always do this? Why do I always – chase the fairy dust?”

Calla hums, sympathetic. “You’ve totally imagined your whole life together already, haven’t you?” Her grin grows softer when Lenny only gives her a defeated nod. “Can I just say that I’m glad you’re not attracted to me? Cause I can’t imagine how awkward it’d be for you to be friends with me after wondering what I look like naked. Or carrying your fifth child.”

“Okay first, I only want four, and two, I’ve seen you naked. And – stop putting ideas in my head,” Lenny pushes her shoulder, gently, before getting up with a sigh. “I gotta take Rem out. You coming?”

“Obviously. Wait, you never told me what happened after Rem got to slobber all over the poor girl and you lived vicariously through your dog.”

“She didn’t slobber,” Lenny protests. Maybe a little. “And nothing really happened. Rem ran over to her, she pet her, called her a good girl, and ignored me. Then Rem got bored and ran away.” She sighs. “And so did I.”

“Girl,” Calla drawls, visibly struggling to hold her laughter in. “That’s brutal. Is that why we’re taking Rem out an hour earlier than usual? So you don’t run into her?”

Lenny doesn’t reply, because she doesn’t have to. Calla knew the answer to that question before she asked.

There is a fatal flaw in her otherwise – well – still poorly thought out plan. She doesn’t actually know when exactly the girl comes to the park, because every time she sees her, she’s already there, on that bench. Lenny’s kind of assumed that she shows up mere minutes before her, and boy is she proven wrong tonight.

“Calla,” she says, lowly. “That’s her. Over there.”

“Do you think she wanted to avoid you, too?”

Must she? “If she did, she would have come an hour later, not earlier,” Lenny gruffly replies, somewhat offended. Even though the girl would be justified in her desire to avoid her after last night’s disastrous display. “I think – I guess that’s just when she comes here.”

She already knows she’s not going to like whatever Calla’s about to say when she sees that dreadful determined look in her eyes. That look has gotten them in trouble plenty of times. Admittedly, it also led to many fond memories, but those became fond after a certain passage of time. Like when she got them arrested in a small southern town they were passing through. Her heart was in the right place, but her bare chest wasn’t, and indecent exposure is not pretty on anyone’s record.

“Why don’t we find out?” Here it is. Lenny nods to herself as she catches Calla’s elbow, gently but firmly tugging her back and meeting her glaring hazel eyes with her own stern ones.

“No,” she simply says, shaking her head. “She probably already thinks I’m stalking her. Please don’t add to that.”

“Jesus. Okay,” Calla murmurs, mostly to herself, and there it is again – that fire she gets in her eyes just before she’s about to explode. “Lenny. You walk your dog in this park twice a day. You’ve lived near this park for several fucking years. This girl showed up, what, two days ago? You act like she owns that bench,” Calla lets out an agitated breath while Lenny blinks, ambushed. “For all you know, she might be prepping to blow this place up, cause this whole thing is pretty damn suspicious if you ask me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lenny states.

Calla shrugs, visibly calming down. “Not in the world we live in, but yeah, doubt she’d hang around here drawing attention to herself if she were to try something like that,” she admits. “Still. She’s the weird one. Not you.”

“Or,” Lenny says, “no one is weird and everyone should mind their own business.”

“Or that.” Hazel eyes twinkle with self-satisfaction. “So let’s do just that. Wanna play catch, baby?” The last sentence is intended for Rem, and she replies with a happy bark, making them both grin.

She only glances at the girl twice that evening, and she thinks she sees her hastily turn away the second time she does, as if afraid Lenny will catch her looking at them. But she’s not sure.

//

It rains the next night, and it’s the dreadful kind. She almost didn’t take Rem out, but the pitiful whimpers and gazes her dog shot her while scratching at the front door didn’t leave her much choice. So they both don raincoats and ran outside.

There is something reliving, liberating about water. As cliché as it is, it truly does wash everything away, leaving you bare and clean and free. Lenny takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with cold, fresh air, and stretches her hand out, catching the waterfall and splashing her face with it. Her mood quickly improves as she imagines brewing herself some hot tea with apples and spices and curling up on the couch with Rem and a book after they are done with the walk. It’s always so much better inside when it’s awful outside. Makes her appreciate the smallest things, like warm blankets and comfy pajamas and old Halloween specials.

Her growing smile fades, however, when she sees the familiar figure perched on the bench, with her arms crossed and shivering. Is she insane? Even Rem doesn’t want to be here – she quickly takes care of her dog business and is now standing beside Lenny, tail tucked in as she patiently waits to be ushered inside.

She doesn’t even really think as she marches up to the girl on the bench, strides long and purposeful. “Hey,” she says – snaps, really, the combination of terrible weather and the bizarreness of this situation making her impatient. The girl’s expression is unreadable as she meets her gaze. Lenny figures she’s too cold to care about being bothered right now. “I know it’s not my place, but you’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay here. You’re clearly waiting for something, or someone, but you can do it in my apartment. My windows overlook the park.”

The girl bites her lip. Mostly to stop it from trembling. “How do I know you’re not gonna feed me to your dog?”

“Don’t worry, she’s vegetarian,” Lenny quips. Calla once told her that her wit is quicker – and much more brazen – when she’s under pressure. The urgency of this situation could be considered pressure, she thinks. She just really doesn’t want her to stay here. “If you’re apprehensive, which is understandable, let me walk you to a café, or – something. You can’t stay here. It’s gonna rain all night.” She licks her lips, nervous, and tastes the rain drops. Fresh.

The girl glances at Rem, who’s beginning to tremble. “Fine.” Without adding anything else, she stands up, desperately hugging herself to warm up, and brusquely starts walking. Lenny hurries after her, mildly bewildered at the girl’s rudeness. But she thinks it doesn’t matter. At least she’ll be someplace warm now.

“So, uh, there’s this coffee shop down the street – it closes in one hour, though, so I don’t know--”

“I thought we were going to yours,” the girl interrupts. “Unless your dog has changed her mind about vegetarianism,” she adds, then. It’s deadpan, but it is a joke, and that’s enormous progress.

“Yeah, I don’t think she’s aware she’s adopted that philosophy,” Lenny chuckles. They never slow down, and it’s a short walk to her building. It’s just across the road.

The girl presses the elevator button, and it arrives almost immediately. “Which floor?”

“Uh, sixth. You can see your bench from my living room.” Why, Lenny? The girl cocks an eyebrow, and she hurries to explain. “I wasn’t – watching you, or anything. I’ve lived here for a couple of years now and I pretty much memorized the layout of the park by now.”

“Even if you did, it’s whatever. It’s your window,” the girl says after a moment of consideration. She doesn’t sound like that’s something she wouldn’t mind. More like someone who accepts it’s out of their control.

Lenny feels the need to convince her she’s saying the truth. “But I didn’t. It wouldn’t -- feel right.” The elevator stops and dings, saving them both from a yet another awkward moment.

//

“I’ll go put the kettle on,” Lenny informs the girl when they walk in. “There’s a blanket on the couch. If you want, I can give you some dry clothes.”

“That… would be nice,” the girl says slowly, as if still contemplating whether she wants to be here. “Thank you.”

Lenny tries not to show her surprise. “You’re welcome,” she smiles, and kneels to wipe Rem’s paws. “Just give me a minute.”

When she walks into the living room with a cup of tea and a change of clothes, the girl’s curled up on the couch, and the blanket’s next to her. “I didn’t want to make it wet,” she says when Lenny gives her a questioning look. Rem chooses this exact moment to burst into the room and jump on the couch, hogging the blanket all to herself. “And I didn’t’ wanna piss her off,” the girl adds, with a small smile.

Lenny makes a mental note to buy Rem any treats she wants. “I have other blankets,” she tells her. “Here. I hope you don’t mind sweatpants – I figured their size is more or less universal.”

“I don’t think I have the right to mind anything right now. Although if you have something of your girlfriend’s, that would probably fit me better. You’re taller than me.”

Lenny feels like she’s been thrust outside once more, only this time without a raincoat, or any clothes for that matter. “My -- I don’t have a girlfriend,” she stutters. “You mean Calla? Calla’s my best friend.”

“I guess Calla, yeah,” the girl shrugs, running her hand through her damp hair. “The girl I saw you with last night?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s Calla. And we’re definitely not dating.” Lenny lets out a disbelieving chuckle, because – Calla? No way.

“Why not? You seemed – cozy.” The girl’s lips twitch in amusement.

“We’re long time friends,” she says, carefully settling in a chair before the girl. “I’ve known her my entire life. And – cozy? What does that even mean?”

She watches her shrug. “I don’t know. Comfortable?”

“Well. That happens when you’ve known someone for a while.”

The girl scoffs. “I’ve known my sister for a while,” she tells her. “We don’t look like that.”

“Sisters and friends are two different things,” Lenny feels the need to defend her friendship. They’ve been best friends since preschool, and not once did she allow herself to embarrass Calla by being anything more than that. Sure, her friend is attractive – insanely so – and she’s the best person she knows, but she’s never stepped out of line. And now, this random stranger mistakes them for girlfriends after watching them for an hour.

“True,” the girl says. “When those friends really wanna bang.”

“That’s insane,” Lenny feels the heat rise to her cheeks. Okay, she’ll admit it – it’s not like she’s never thought of it, but -- come on. Everyone’s thought about having sex with their amazing, beautiful, funny best friend. Right?

She needs a change of subject. “I’m sorry – can you tell me your name? Mine’s Lenny.”

As per usual, when someone finds out her name, their eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Lenny? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“Do things still have gender, really,” Lenny muses, carefully settling in a chair before the girl and mentally high-fiving herself when she grins. “It’s Elena, but I hate it, so I shortened it to Lenny.”

“Ah. It suits you.” The girl pauses, seemingly thinking something over. “Reena.”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

Reena’s hair, still heavy with rain, falls over her shoulder when she cocks her head, studying her. “You sure I’m the one you want to be hitting on?”

“I’m sure I don’t wanna continue this conversation,” Lenny mutters, unable to fight the scowl settling over her face. Something akin to regret flashes through Reena’s eyes, and she nods, standing up and clutching Lenny’s clothes to her chest.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. Sorry. I just… tend to run my mouth when I’m out of my element. Guess I misjudged the situation.”

“I guess so,” Lenny says, but there’s no bite.

“Right. Well – I’ll go change.” With that, she turns and leaves.

“Bathroom’s down the hallway,” Lenny yells after her, but the only answer she gets is the sound of a door opening and closing.

//

The rain only pours harder, and doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Lenny slowly breathes in the warmth of her home as she stands before the window, watching the deserted park and glistening, trembling leaves of its trees. If she lights the candles, would it seem inappropriate? It is, after all, the perfect date night. At least in her books. Cold and awful outside, warm and toasty inside; lazy cuddles and slow, gentle touches in a messy bed full of pillows and blankets…

“I’m back,” Reena announces, jostling her out of her thoughts. Her hair’s still damp, but she looks much better now, and there’s a rosy tint to her cheeks. “I… I don’t say this often – mostly because there’s not a lot of people I can say this to, but… Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do this.” The raw sincerity of her voice is unexpected, and Lenny swallows, trying and failing to find words to use. Come on. Anything.

“Well. I mean. I still could murder you.” Anything but that, Jesus Christ, she thinks, mortified. But Reena smirks and plops back onto the couch, fingers sliding through Rem’s fur.

“I refuse to die sober. You got anything to drink?”

As it turns out, she does. Half a bottle of red, spicy wine later, the conversation starts to flow. At first, it’s small stuff. Latest news, movies, music. Lenny’s somehow not surprised to learn their tastes are different to the point of clashing. But that doesn’t lead to any awkward silences; if anything, it fuels the dialogue. Another half gone, though, and Reena’s baby blues sparkle with curiosity. “So,” she announces, suddenly, cutting Lenny off mid-word. “Is Calla short for something?”

“No, it’s just Calla,” Lenny says, almost on autopilot, before blinking in confusion. “Wait – why?”

“Nothing.” Reena’s shrug is hilarious in the oversized hoodie she’s wearing. “It’s a beautiful name. Rare.”

“It is. It suits her,” Lenny says before she can fully process what it is she’s saying. Once her own words reach her, she shakes her head, frowning. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Why not?” Reena springs to her feet, abruptly. Lenny’s noticed she has a knack for startling people. Or she’s just easily startled. Probably the latter. She watches her as she comes up to her old record player and cocks her head to the side studying it. “What if I’m a nomadic cupid wandering the world and helping the helpless? Or a love goddess,” the last part is muttered to herself, lower, but Lenny still hears. “I like that better. Yeah. Love goddess.”

“I’m not helpless,” Lenny states. “And you’re drunk.”

“Maybe. Does it matter?” Reena fishes out a vinyl record and puts it on, not stumbling once. Slow, steady beats fill the room, along with a soft bass, and Lenny releases a tense breath as she recognizes the song. “This. I think this suits us right now.”

“Us?” Lenny feels her brow raise of its own accord, but Reena only laughs.

“Don’t change the subject. Calla is a beautiful name.”

“I thought we already established that.” She watches Reena gently sway to Stevie’s velvet vocals as they pour from the player and seemingly envelop her entire being.

“Yes. And you said it suits her because she’s beautiful, too. Do you think she’s beautiful?”

“Do you always play cupid when you’re drunk?” The light from the lamppost outside and the darkness of the apartment perfectly clash on Reena’s face, making one eye shine brighter than the other, and Lenny suddenly thinks back to her first – or was it second – insane thought she’s had when she saw her dark, unmoving figure in the park. Fae, luring you in.

Or bringing you to a realization you wouldn’t have reached on your own.

She shakes her head while Reena chuckles. “Not really,” she answers her previous question. “It’s just… Sometimes it’s easier to spill your guts out to a complete stranger, and, well – I gotta repay you somehow for shelter and drinks.”

Lenny decides to play the game Reena’s offering, then. Or something like that. “Who are you waiting for every night?”

Blue eyes sharpen, for a fraction of a second. “Do you think Calla’s beautiful?”

It’s after a short, tense pause that Lenny replies, and her voice is soft. “I’d have to be blind not to.” There is a part of her – and she’s not sure whether it’s a part she’s been burying, or a part that’s been sleeping and she had no idea about, or it’s a new, unexplored part, but – there’s a part of her that’s raising its head, slowly, tentatively, and looking around and taking everything in and smiling, wider and wider. Maybe Reena is onto something with this whole perfect strangers deal. Maybe.

Reena’s smirk is quick. “I have a sister,” she says. “At least – I hope I still have a sister. She told me to wait for her here, where we grew up playing. She’ll take me with her. I just have to wait.”

Dreams has long since faded into the crackling of vinyl, indicating the end of record. Lenny climbs to her feet and slowly comes up to the player, watching Reena’s tense posture as she flips the vinyl. “I used to love this song,” her guest says when Rhiannon starts filling the room.

Lenny decides she’ll ask about the past tense later. “Are you and your sister in trouble?”

“You could say that,” a careless shoulder shrug lets her know she won’t get anything out of her. “I’ll have to go soon.” Blue eyes meet hers, and Lenny’s struck with the realization that Reena wasn’t really drunk this entire time. “When I do, give it another thought.”

“Me and Calla? Why do you – care so much about that?” This is more than a little bizarre. Lenny’s been waiting to wake up drenched in cold sweat alone in her bed for the past ten minutes.

“You looked happy,” Reena replies simply. Almost childlike. Lenny finds herself wondering about her actual age. “I could use some happiness. Even if it’s not in my life. Even if it’s just the knowledge of someone -- being happy. You know?”

“No,” Lenny says truthfully. “Not really. But I will think about it. I probably won’t be able to think about anything else for the next couple of months.”

“Good.” Reena glances past her shoulder, then, and her eyes grow just a touch wider as a new kind of smile graces her lips. “You know,” she muses, still not looking at her. “I think I’m almost sad I won’t see you again.”

Lenny expects to see a dark figure when she turns around and looks out the window. There, next to Reena’s bench, stands a tall, slim girl, and the way she waves, once, lazily, leaves no doubt in her mind that she knows she’s being watched. And she knows where Reena is.

She’ll need more wine after this.

“Really gotta go now,” Reena tells her as she quickly changes back into her soaked clothes. Rem, who’s been napping on the couch while they drank, is now wide awake as she jumps around Reena, thinking they are going outside. She laughs. “No, bud, you’re staying. I’ll miss you.” Then, she looks at Lenny, and there’s unfamiliar warmth in her gaze that spreads through Lenny’s veins. “Have a good life, Elena. I know – you hate that, but – guess I just felt like saying your actual name.”

“Wait!” Lenny’s head spins as she clumsily chases after her, catching her by the door. “How do I… how do I know you’re okay? That you’ll be okay?”

Reena’s smile is soft. Almost like Calla’s, Lenny catches herself thinking, and blink at the strange thought. “Guess you’ll have to trust me on that,” she tells her, and walks out with one small, final wave. Lenny watches her get in the elevator, and then rushes back inside the apartment, to the window. Seconds tick by as she watches, tense, anticipating something she’s not sure of herself. Reena’s sister still stands there. On count twelve, Reena exits the building and walks over to her, quick and purposeful. On count thirty – Lenny’s not sure why she’s still counting – she reaches her, and they embrace, the gesture familiar and relieved. And then, they walk away together. Lenny watches until they disappear behind the tall, dark trees – until the wall of rain separates her from ever finding out Reena’s story.

She’s not sure it’s a bad thing, and she’s not sure it’s a good thing. She’s also not sure what exactly she was waiting for. After all Reena’s little jokes about her being a cupid, perhaps, she half-expected her to fly away, or dissolve in the rain. Maybe she did and Lenny’s still-drunken, bewildered brain refused to process that. Maybe. All she knows is she’s gone, and there’s something she’s left behind. A new determination, or feeling – or an emotion previously buried and uncovered just now.

Lenny gulps down the rest of her wine and stumbles to bed, passing out as soon as her head hits the pillow.

//

Waking up early is always a task next to impossible for someone who works from home. Or Lenny is the minority and everyone’s got their shit together, springing up at seven am and running ten miles with their dog and saving a couple of babies from burning houses while she struggles to keep her eyes open.

All she needs to do is get out of bed. The battle’s won when she drags herself to the shower. After that it’s significantly easier to function. Take Rem out for a short walk – they’ll go for a long, exercise-filled one after lunch. Cook breakfast – that’s her favorite part. Today, she decides to go for the full English. All she’s missing are mushrooms, but that’s nothing a quick grocery run won’t fix. Then, text Calla. And get to work. The usual morning routine.

Calla. The drop of her stomach at the name is as sudden as it is, paradoxically, pleasant. She realizes she hasn’t seen her in a while, before realizing that three days is not a while for normal people. But the pull in her chest is too strong to either ignore or give it much rational thought. So she acts.

“Hey,” Calla’s voice is pleasantly surprised. “What’s up?”

“Wanna get breakfast with me?” Lenny blurts out in lieu of greeting. She imagines Calla’s hazel eyes widening ever so slightly as she bites her the inside of her cheek, like she always does when she has to think something through.

The pull in her chest grows stronger.

“Sure,” she finally hears her reply. “Would love to put that flexible schedule to the test.”

Lenny laughs. “You spend two hours a day at the office at most. Pretty sure you’ve been testing that schedule this entire time.”

She can practically see Calla’s careless shrug. “I’m a photographer. An artist. A free spirit.”

“And I support that. Meet you at Sadelle’s in an hour?”

She can always hear when Calla’s smiling, and today’s no exception. “Sounds good. See you soon.”

“So what’s up with that girl?”

Lenny bites into her bagel and slowly chews as she regards her friend. “What girl?”

Calla rolls her eyes at her. “The one you wouldn’t shut up about,” she says, sounding mildly annoyed. “She’s still on that bench?”

“Oh,” she raises her eyebrows as she remembers. Right. The girl. “Um, she left with some girl last night. Probably the one she was waiting for this whole time.”

“Weird,” Calla comments as she watches her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” she takes a sip of her coffee. Calla’s still staring at her, as if not quite believing what she’s saying. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty hung up on that chick, and now you couldn’t care less.”

Hung up. Huh. Oh, she thinks she remembers being weird about it – but what else is new. It’s all kind of hazy, now. Perhaps, that was a short moment of insanity and childish infatuation. “I mean, I barely knew her,” she shrugs. “I didn’t, in fact, know her at all. The whole thing was dumb.”

“Wow.” Calla smiles, slowly. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“If you’re that easily impressed, you’d love dating me,” Lenny laughs, but cuts herself off when she realizes what she’s just said. Calla doesn’t seem to mind it, though, only rolling her eyes as she chuckles along.

“You’re so wrong,” she says. Before Lenny has a chance to overreact and start freaking out internally that Calla wouldn’t love dating her – and why would she, since they are friends – Calla continues. “Anyone would love to date you cause you’re awesome. You just need to realize it.”

She blinks. Watches Calla noisily sip the remainders of her milkshake through the straw, feels her lips stretch in a slow, amused smile. “Same,” she says.

“Please. I am fully aware of my awesomeness.”

“No, I meant – you’re awesome, too,” Lenny laughs. “Thanks for spoiling the moment we were about to have.”

“We’ll have plenty more,” Calla waves her off.

“Yeah,” Lenny says, slowly. “We will.” The words form in her mind, almost of their own accord. Just like the feeling she woke up with today and couldn’t quite place her finger on it. And didn’t really want to, in all honesty. She just let it wash over her and dictate her actions, she realizes. It didn’t feel weird, or confusing, or sudden. If anything, it felt right. And right now, she’s letting it speak for her, and that feels right, too.

“Do you--” the words get caught in her throat when hazel eyes meet hers, expectant. Because of how -- unguarded they are. How relaxed, and trusting, and soft. “Do you wanna maybe get coffee sometime?”

Calla tilts her head, just like Rem does when she doesn’t understand what Lenny’s trying to say. “Like what we’re doing right now?” She asks.

“No.” Lenny feels her smile grow in realization. “Not like what we’re doing right now. More like – like a date kind of thing. A proper date.”

She’s never seen Calla’s eyes widen this big before. “You’re… asking me out,” she says, slowly.

“I guess I am. No. I am.” She licks her lips before smiling. “What do you say?”

“I – this is… wow,” Calla manages, and Lenny nods. She feels like laughing. She feels like springing to her feet and sweeping Calla off hers and twirling her around until they collapse in a heap of giggles and limbs, and then--

Calla takes a deep breath. She doesn’t look as ecstatic as Lenny feels, and her excitement fades at seeing a concerned frown on her friend’s face. “You know, I’m gonna be honest with you, since it probably took a lot of courage for you to say this. I, um - I’ve thought about -- this,” she gestures between them, before sighing. “Not like – I don’t think I was pining after you or anything. I mean, I know I wasn’t. I was just… wondering, sometimes. But you were always…”

“Chasing dreams?” Lenny finishes when Calla trails off, and smiles when she nods. “I think I’m done with that.”

“You think? Well, have you thought this through?” Calla brushes her blonde curls away from her face, suddenly impatient. “Because I can’t be your fabricated reality. I can’t be – another fantasy. I won’t lose you over that when you realize that’s all it was and push me away. I don’t wanna – ugh,” she rolls her eyes, looking annoyed. “I like, really need you in my life, okay? And I don’t want to be a weird rebound after that bench girl.”

“You’re not,” Lenny says eagerly. “I told you – I didn’t even know her. And I know I’m always constructing these… mirages in my head, but this - this isn’t a fluke. This is real, okay? I’ve known you practically my entire life. I know you. I need you, and I… I want you. I think this is – it’s the most real thing I’ve felt in a long while.” She’s surprised by her own revelation. By how honest it feels, and raw, and vulnerable, and good.

“The realest.”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t it be the realest? I mean, for someone who makes their living writing…”

She feels the corners of her lips twitch in an amused smile. “You’re deflecting.”

“Maybe.” Calla blows out a sigh. “This is just – super sudden.”

“I know.” She swallows. “I’m not expecting an answer right now. Just – promise me you’ll think about it. And if you want to forget it ever happened and move past this, we can do that.” It’ll hurt and it’ll suck, but she’ll move on if that’s what Calla wants. Just like Calla said, she won’t lose her over this. She’d rather have her in any capacity she’ll allow than not have her at all.

“I don’t think I can forget,” Calla snorts. “This really ties in with a couple of very confusing dreams and that one time we got drunk…”

Lenny feels the heat rush to her cheeks. “We just cuddled,” she attempts to defend herself. God knows why because that one time is working in her favor yet she won’t let it.

“If any of my boyfriends or girlfriends cuddled me like that, maybe I wouldn’t be single right now,” Calla retorts. There’s the usual sparkling mirth back in her eyes, and Lenny allows relief to curse through her veins as she takes her smirking face in. Her beautiful face.

Calla is a beautiful name. It suits her.

She’s so focused on the thought she almost misses it when Calla glances at her watch. “Shit. There’s this dumb meeting I gotta get to,” she tells her. But, before Lenny has a chance to deflate with disappointment and embarrassment, her gaze turns determined. “Tonight. Pick me up at eight.” She springs to her feet and grins at her as she shoulders her bag. It’s one of her infamous flirtatious grins, somehow both impish and innocent as she gazes at her through her lashes. She’s seen those – hell, she’s been on the receiving end of those more than a handful of times, and seriously, why’d it take her this long?

“Just like that?” She calls after her, feeling her own wide grin nearly splitting her face. Calla throws a glance over her shoulder, pausing her step.

‘Think we’ve waited long enough,” she tells her. “Don’t you?” With that, she turns to walk away, but Lenny calls after her one last time.

“Hey Calla?” She waits until she looks at her again, and tries to look as serious as possible. “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She’s rarely vulnerable, she knows that. That’s what makes those fleeting moments all the more precious. “I know.”

Lenny leans back in her chair as she watches her walk away, and takes a deep breath as nerves wash over her. She’s got a date to plan, and it’s gotta be the best damn date both of them have ever been on. Tonight, she thinks wildly. Alright. Tonight.

//

Somewhere at one of the hundreds of faceless gas stations, Reena climbs back in the car and turns up the volume, grinning, as the familiar song comes on the radio.

patreon | ko-fi

[fugaciousgloom]

Oumeno Week Day 1

Prompt: Holiday

Himiko exhaled deeply, her warm breath visible in the frosty air. She had just finished her Christmas shopping and was waiting for Miu and Kaede to come out of the store. She would wait inside, but Maki, who was standing next to her, refused to enter. It was some sort of perfume and cologne store and she had mentioned smells giving her headaches easily.

     The redhead rocked back and forth on her heels, burying her now numb nose inside her fluffy, red scarf. She fiddled with the sides of her coat that she reluctantly left unzipped. Tsumugi had made all the girls Christmas sweaters to wear and Kaede, wanting to keep the cosplayer happy, had them all wear it.

     People rushed by, obviously not enjoying the freezing temperature, sending gusts of cold air at the two girls. Snow sprinkled down from the sky, making the city look like a snowglobe come to life.

     When Miu and Kaede finally emerged from the shop, the former was ranting about something.

     "I can't believe that guy! Like, what do you mean cologne can't be used on robots?!" She rolled her eyes, "Fine! I'll just make my own. Come on killer girl, donkey lips."

     Deciding to ignore the rude nickname, Himiko followed behind the group. She couldn't wait to get back to the school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Himiko took a deep breath in as she entered the common area. The aroma of sweets hinting that Kirumi was baking in the kitchen.

     Due to her mother having work on Christmas, Himiko was staying at Hope's Peak Academy over the holidays. Most of her friends decided to stay as well, not wanting the mage to be all alone, despite Kokichi staying as well.

     Miu haphazardly kicked off her uggs, Kaede quickly picking them up and placing them neatly on the shoe rack, and flopped down on the couch.

     "It's too fucking cold out there." She said, rubbing her hands together to warm them up, "My tits are numb!"

     Maki grunted, "Relax, I'd rather have cold than boiling hot."

     "Oh, let me turn up the heat!" Kaede scrambled to set down the bags she was carrying and rushed towards the thermostat.

     Himiko made her way to the kitchen, mostly to see if she could sneak taste the batter or a cookie, only to see Kokichi sitting on the counter. Kirumi seemed invested in her baking, not noticing the redhead's presence.

     "Himi! You're back!" He jumped off the counter and bounced over to the mage, "Are you cold? Your nose is all red."

     Her nose was usually the first part of her to go red when she gets cold, so it wasn't a surprise the leader had noticed it.

     "Nyeh, it's too cold outside." She grumbled, shutting her eyes, "Too many people shopping, I need to recharge my mana."

     Suddenly, Kokichi pinched her nose. His hands were warm and burned her cold face in a semi-pleasent way. It made Himiko jump and back into the counter. Kokichi, noticing her vulnerable position, decided now to be a good time to tease her.

     He placed his hands either side of her on the counter, leaning in close to her face. The mage's cheeks flared the same colour as her hair.

     "I can warm you up~" He smirked. They were so close, their noses almost touched.

     "N-nyeh... Kokichi?"

     Suddenly, another voice jumped in, "Any closer and I'll slit your throat."

     And then another, "Yeah, back off degenerate male!"

     Spinning around, the pair saw Maki and Tenko glaring at them. Tenko was in her pajamas, her hands up in a defensive position.

     Angie walked up next to her, "What is wrong Tenko? Atua tells me there is a disturbance in here."

     "This degenerate has his hands all over Himiko!"

     Kokichi raised his eyebrows in mock innocence, "But I'm not touching her, lesbian-chan!"

     Tenko's eyes narrowed more, "Why you-"

     Shuichi appeared behind them, "Hey, were about to watch a movie. You girls want to join?"

     "Atua says that is a great idea! come, come Tenko!"

     The artist grabbed Tenko's arm and dragged her towards the common area.

     "But, but Himiko-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Himiko awoke the next morning groggily. She had spent most of yesterday wrapping presents in her room and helping set up for the Christmas party. As a result, she had gone to bed rather late.

     Sliding out from under her covers, she immediately noticed how chilly it was. She quickly got dressed and threw a blanket over her shoulders.

     Out in the common area, she placed the last of the wrapped gifts under the tree before sitting on the couch. Maki was watching some sort of Hallmark movie, though she seemed uninterested.

     The brunette grumbled a good morning as she took a sip of her coffee.

     Across the living room, Miu lay sleeping on an armchair. She must have been too tired to walk back to her room.

     An hour later, Kaede, Tenko, and Angie came into the room. Both of the former were dressed, and it looked like Kaede had showered, but Angie was in her pajamas and seemed very tired. She clung to Tenko's arm. The artist must have opted to spend the night here as well.

     "Good morning everyone!" Kaede greeted, sitting down on the couch next to Maki. She seemed almost too energetic.

     Miu woke up suddenly, shooting up from her sleeping position, "Huh? What?" She realized where she was, "Hey, piano bitch, you woke me up!"

     Kaede laughed and apologized, "Is everyone ready for the party tonight?"

     Maki grunted again, "As ready as I'll ever be."

     Tenko pumped a fist in the air, "Even with all the degenerates there, I'm sure it will be the best party happening at the school!"

     Angie, not really sure what was happening, smiled sleepily and copied Tenko's gesture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     It was finally time for the party and Himiko was standing at the door. Kirumi had come early to set out the food and delegated roles to all the girls. The maid stated that as hosts, they all had to contribute to making the guests feel welcome.

     Himiko was unfortunate enough to be assigned to greet the guests at the door. It seemed almost too formal, seeing as they were all friends.

     Rantaro, Kaito, and Shuichi all arrived together. It wasn't surprising since they were roommates. Shuichi waved at her, "Kokichi said he'd come later." The detective explained, "Something about being fashionably late."

     After a while, everyone but Kokichi had arrived, leaving Himiko to wonder where he was.

     She was enjoying herself, eating, talking to friends, avoiding the mistletoe Tsumugi had not-so-subtly hung up (Though some were not fortunate enough to escape it.) However, the lacking presence of the purple haired leader was nagging her.

     It wasn't until about an hour into the party that the liar showed up. He just casually appeared, inserting himself into whatever conversation Kaito was having.

     Huffing, Himiko grabbed Kokichi's arm and dragged him to the side, "Where have you been?"

     He chuckled, "Miss me?"

     Feeling her cheeks heat up slightly, and knowing she wouldn't get a straight answer out of him, she decided to let it go. Rolling her eyes, she started to walk away, Kokichi following behind her.

     She headed towards the kitchen, hoping to grab a brownie (or three) and some eggnog.

     Suddenly she felt someone shove her. She stepped to the side and looked up to see Tsumugi looking away like nothing happened.

     "Tsumugi." She growled, annoyed that her ploy for sweets had been interrupted.

     Himiko felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Kokichi smirking at her and pointing above them. Already knowing what was happening, she looked up. Crap.

     I knew there was a reason I wasn't caught under the mistletoe. She thought, She must have been waiting for Kokichi to show up. Tsumugi, you're dead.

     The leader cleared his throat, and looked around. Everyone was looking at them.

     "Himiko, no!" She heard Tenko screech, running up to them, "Don't kiss that degenerate!"

     Himiko's tongue was dry and she couldn't find a way to respond.

     Kaede smiled at her, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

     "Nyeh, it's fine." She replied, though her voice shook, "It's just tradition, even if it is a pain, it doesn't mean anything."

     Kokichi leaned closer. To avoid embarrassment, Himiko squeezed her eyes shut.

     Kaede, not wanting to make the mage any more uncomfortable, convinced everyone to go back to the party. Though she knew some were still catching glances at them.

     Just as their lips were about to touch, the redhead placed a hand on his chest, "Wait."

     The word was barely a whisper, she couldn't trust herself to say it any louder.

     She wanted to kiss him. So bad.

     And that's what scared her the most.

     The liar pulled back immediately. She saw guilt flash in his eyes for a split second before covering it up with his usual playful demeanor.

     "Nishishi, I knew you wouldn't want to kiss me."

     "Kokichi, that's not what I-"

     Tenko suddenly showed up next to them, "Oh, thank Atua!" She hugged Himiko tightly, "I thought you were actually going to kiss him!"

     "Tenko, you're suffocating me."

     When the aikido master finally released her, Kokichi had already gone.

[ryuutchi]

/acknowledges that a person ids as queer /calls them "the heteros" anyway, I can feel the queer/bi-phobia here in the Chillies tonight!

It’s not just that, although ABSOLUTELY it’s biphobia and queerphobia.

But also, there’s an intentional devaluing of fandom community experience-- if you like fandom shit, you are de facto sexualizing a theoretical gay man, and therefore your actions are honorarily Not Gay. There’s a bit in the book I’m reading about how we often frame gay sex as “not-gay”, because gay identity is expected to conform to a middle-class concept of sincere, love-based, non-sexual romanticism. It resonated with the way that many people are responding with this presumption that Liz’s sexual desire is a) self-evident and b) evidence of insincere queerness. Because of her fandom connection and presumable desires, she can’t be slotted properly into a Legitimately Gay Identity.

I’m also just not over the number of people in that thread who act as if it was EASY to find positive or even fucking value-neutral queer representation in person or in mainstream media-- especially 10-20 years ago! Fuck, man, I grew up surrounded by an openly gay community, I was mostly untouched by direct homophobia until I was in middle school, I grew up with a mother whose library included shit like Octavia Butler and Our Bodies Ourselves, and it was STILL a revelation for me to see lesbian and gay Sailor Moon fanfic and fanart. And I’m talking season one-- DiC changed the gender of a character in the dub to avoid showing the gay relationship. 

As I’ve said before, I know dozens, if not hundreds, of queer fans who realized their identity, came to a more complete understanding of themselves, or grew as human beings through fandom and fannish spaces. I know I make a lot of hay about “fiction’s affect on reality is complicated”, but this? THIS is the ideal case of fiction affecting reality! A young person in a homophobic environment is exposed to fiction and a supportive fandom that treats queer experiences as not just normal, but ENJOYABLE, both externally and as a participant (because, let’s be real, who hasn’t projected all over a character?) WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK Y’ALL.

[greenshi]

In a lovey dovey mood tonight folks. God I wish I had a gf

[artificialqueens]

Punny title about lesbians in love on an airplane (Branjie) - Mermelada

Hola! Did somebody ask for a Branjie lesbian flight attendant AU? Of course they didn’t, but it’s here anyway! Trigger warning for racism (third flight: Cancun section, skip if necessary as it’s not vital to the story). I hope you enjoy!

They first met on a flight to Tampa. They were both working in economy class, and were taking advantage of the turbulence to chitchat on their jumpseats at the back of the plane and get to know each other. Brooke Lynn learned that Vanessa had grown up in Tampa, had somehow acquired the nickname Vanjie at school, and was planning on spending that evening with her family. Vanessa learned that Brooke Lynn was Canadian, but had been living in the US for long enough to have almost completely lost her accent – except after a few tequilas, apparently – and used to be a pretty serious ballerina. Their personalities were polar opposites, and yet they hit it off immediately. They kept laughing with each other well after the plane’s wheels were on the ground and the passengers were nowhere to be seen. Although she didn’t want to admit it, Vanessa was somewhat disappointed when she saw her mother and aunt standing in the arrivals hall, and was thus forced to say goodbye to Brooke Lynn, who begrudgingly followed the rest of the crew out of the terminal to find their transport to the hotel. On the flight home the next day, both ladies picked up where they’d left off, their natural chemistry making their job feel easy and the flight seem quick. Far too quick. Before disembarking once they were safely parked back at base, Vanessa added Brooke Lynn on Facebook, delighted that their 56 mutual friends had made it easy. Their airline, however, was big, and they knew their chances of flying together again anytime soon was limited. Nonetheless, they exchanged goodbyes and thanked each other for such a nice flight.

-*-

They didn’t have to wait long for their next meeting, when Vanessa was called from reserve to go to Seattle the next week. All of her stress from speed-walking to the gate disappeared as soon as she stepped on board and saw the voluptuous blonde giant, who handed her a freshly brewed coffee. Airplane drinks had never tasted so good. Brooke Lynn was working in business class, so they didn’t get the chance to speak until the bus ride to their hotel in the city centre.

“I’ve never been to Seattle before, do you want to come sightseeing with me?”

Vanessa agreed perhaps too enthusiastically, her smile wide enough to park a bus, before she realised that in her frantic dash to the airport that morning, she hadn’t packed anything appropriate for the damp and chilly Seattle spring. A few awkward explanations and suggestive comments later, Vanessa found herself walking around Pike Place Market in her pyjama leggings, white jelly sandals, and Brooke’s red hoodie which drowned her tiny frame. It smelled like maple syrup – not in a stereotypical sort of way, but it was sweet, unique, and warmed Vanessa’s heart. They spent the day walking beside each other, neither woman flinching when their arms or hands bumped together. They chatted comfortably, and felt completely at ease in each other’s company. They’d spent as much time as possible exploring the city and eating more than either had thought possible, but the time change and early start was making staying awake increasingly difficult, and both made the decision to retire to their respective rooms before dinner time, promising to meet for breakfast when they inevitably woke up at the crack of dawn.

-*-

Their third flight together was the hardest. Brooke Lynn’s face had lit up the moment she saw Vanessa’s name beside a two-night trip to Cancun on her roster. They’d exchanged excited Whatsapp messages, having swapped phone numbers after breakfast in Seattle the previous two months prior, and planned a visit to a turtle sanctuary to find out “if those cute little fuckers really do try and swim to the moon”, a question Vanessa had been pondering since watching an Animal Planet documentary as a child. The reality, however, wasn’t quite as fun. An oil leak on their original plane meant a four hour wait in the terminal beside increasingly-agitated passengers while a new plane was found. Once they were finally on their way, a lady in the back row –  who had most likely spent the delay downing gin and tonics at the airport bar –  decided she didn’t like Vanessa’s bilingual English and Spanish announcements, unironically declaring loudly from her seat that “we want to keep America for Americans, we don’t want to be force-fed your taco-eating shit.”  

In shock, Brooke left her colleague in the aisle and went to the nearest phone to call the Captain, thinking ahead of the next steps from the ‘dealing with disruptive passengers’ chapter in her training notes.  Vanessa, surprisingly, kept her cool.

“Ma’am, I’m Puerto Rican. We eat sorullitos.”

The angry woman stared at Vanessa like she’d just killed a puppy. Her face turned red with rage, and she spat obscenities at Vanessa like they were on special offer. Not wanting to listen anymore, Vanessa just walked away to join Brooke Lynn in the back galley, leaving the passengers around the lady to deal with her themselves. Unfortunately, the captain had decided that the woman was a potential risk to the safety of the aircraft, which is how they found themselves diverting into Charleston and exceeding their maximum time limit for a day’s work. As the rest of the crew debriefed over miniature bottles of wine on the bus to their unplanned hotel for the night, Brooke and Vanessa sat close together in the back row. The taller woman had her arm wrapped around the shorter one’s shoulder, gently rubbing circles into her upper arm. Out of nowhere, the impact of what had happened hit Vanessa. She buried her face into Brooke’s chest, unable to stop the tears which were now falling incessantly from her eyes. Vanessa looked even smaller than normal, as fragile as a glass Christmas bauble. All Brooke could do was hold her closer, stroke her hair, and hope that Vanessa knew that she cared.

Back at the hotel, Vanessa wouldn’t let go of Brooke Lynn as they collected their keys from the bored-looking teenager at the front desk. Brooke had never experienced racism at work before – drunk football fans shouting ‘aboot’ across the aisle didn’t count – but she knew that the most important thing at that moment was to support her friend.

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight? We can get pizza and watch The Notebook.”

In the short time they had known each other, Brooke Lynn had learned a lot about Vanessa’s favourite things, including her surprising love of all things romantic, despite a less-than-perfect love life about which she often dropped elusive snippets into conversation. Despite never having been one for soppy movies, Brooke wanted nothing more than to spend the evening doing whatever she could to make Vanessa happy.

The short Latina looked up through wet, brown eyes.

“Only if I can borrow your hoodie again, that shit was ugly but comfy as fuck.”

-*-

A month after their failed trip to Cancun, Brooke Lynn and Vanessa had been in contact every day, trying to figure out how to get another trip together. Finally, they were lucky, when Vanessa convinced her friend Silky to swap her night-stop in San Francisco with Brooke for two days in Pittsburgh.

“Think of the ketchup, girl, you’ll love Pittsburgh!”

“Bitch, you are pussy whipped, I better be your maid of honour.”

The words replayed on a loop in Vanessa’s head during her entire journey to the airport that morning. “Pussy whipped.” It sounded disgusting, but she couldn’t deny, there was something so attractive about Brooke Lynn that she couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just that she was tall, athletic, curvaceous, and had the twinkliest eyes in the universe; she was intelligent, thoughtful, caring, and wickedly funny at the same time. She was never bored when they were together, and she felt entire swarms of butterflies flutter in her stomach every time her phone dinged with a new message from the Canadian. She also gave amazing cuddles. They’d gotten a lot closer over the last month, especially since Brooke had opened up about never having had a serious relationship at their Charleston sleepover. Brooke had also admitted that night to having had no idea that Vanessa was also a lesbian, which elicited even more flirtatious teasing.

“Is it because I don’t wear plaid? Brooky-poo, you can’t just pigeon-hole your sisters like that.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Jesus Christ, I told you, my gaydar has been broken since the 90s! This is why I’m single!”

They spent the long flight to San Fran working together in economy again, their smiles never fading as their bantered with the passengers during the bar round. They were able to remove the frowns from even the grumpiest of businessmen’s faces, which left the colleagues feeling like they were on cloud 9. As they gathered their belongings at the end of the flight, the cabin manager Nina walked down the aisle to see them.

“Those were some of the happiest customers I have ever seen, what on earth did you give them?!” she beamed, her enthusiasm somehow even higher than usual.

“Oh, you know”, began Brooke, “A bit of the ol’ Branjie charm does wonders!”

Vanessa’s snort in response caused the three to burst into hysterical laughter, their good moods only getting better and better.

It wasn’t until they were sat together at a bar on Pier 39 that it was brought up again.

“So, Branjie, huh?” smirked Vanessa, stirring her cocktail with her straw and fluttering her eyelashes at Brooke.

“Yeah, it’s like a… what’s the word for it? A portmanteau. Brooke and Vanjie – Branjie!”

Vanessa couldn’t help but laugh at how comfortable Brooke was explaining it, “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?!”

Brooke’s cheeks turned the same colour as her strawberry daiquiri, and she couldn’t drink it quick enough to hide from the fact that she’d been caught. “Well, yeah… I was just brainstorming, y’know. Branjie is better than Broonessa or Vanooke.”

Vanessa successfully maintained serious eye contact with Brooke for four seconds before exploding into uncontrollable laughter, the Canadian joining in immediately. At some point during the raucousness, Vanessa’s hand found its way onto Brooke’s thigh, and Brooke’s foot wrapped itself around Vanessa’s shin. They inched closer until there was virtually no space between them, conversing as before, only this time with far more intimacy. A natural lull in the conversation led to a comfortable silence, where they stared into each other’s eyes, neither sure of how to proceed. Just as Brooke Lynn caught Vanessa’s eyes dart down to her lips, she jumped up from her seat and extended her hand, which Vanessa took graciously.

“Let’s go for a walk, you like sea lions?”

The pier was swarming with tourists, all trying to take photographs of every single square centimetre. Vanessa and Brooke Lynn aimlessly sauntered along, their hands connected and swinging at a gentle pace beside them. Despite not looking at each other, they knew that they were wearing matching smiles. They stopped at the end of the pier and took in the deafening racket from the giant creatures below, huddling together closely to counter the effects of the cool sea breeze.

“Sorry, I thought this was going to be romantic”, sighed Brooke, lightly removing her hand from Vanessa’s and looking down to inspect her nails, a nervous tick she’d developed as a teenager in dance class. “I wasn’t expecting it to smell quite so fishy.”

Vanessa couldn’t help but grin at her counterpart’s sudden shyness, taking it upon herself to make the first move by wrapping her arms around Brooke Lynn’s waist.

“I didn’t even notice.” With that, Vanessa stood as high on her tip-toes as possible and stretched her neck as far as she could, meeting Brooke’s lips halfway in a flurry of quick, chaste kisses. They held each other as they stared out to the sea, the cacophony of the sea lion choir filling the air. It was perfect.

-*-

They saw each other a lot more after San Francisco, meeting for coffee and drinks at home whenever their schedules aligned, or spending hours on Facetime when they didn’t. They were seeing each other, Brooke supposed. It wasn’t official or exclusive, nor had they spoken about what their exact status was, but whatever it was, it was good. It felt right. It had been 52 days since their first kiss, and the Canadian was ready to take their relationship to the next level. Unbeknownst to Brooke Lynn, Vanessa was had also been planning the perfect way to do so as soon as she’d laid eyes upon the 3-night trip to Maui appear on their rosters for next month. Sunshine, sea, and coconut bras… what could possibly be sexier?

The flight passed without a hitch, and all nine crew members chatted drowsily in the hotel lobby as they waited for their room keys to be ready. Vanessa and Brooke were sharing an armchair that was far too small to fit both of them, but they relished the closeness. Drawing gentle patterns onto Brooke Lynn’s lower back, Vanessa put the first part of her plan into action.

“So, I was wondering,” she began hesitantly, clearing her throat as a pair of sleepy green eyes met her brown ones, “since we’ve basically spent all of our last two trips together, do you want to maybe share a room?”

Vanessa knew it was a big step: despite having shared a bed for one night in Charleston, and enjoying an evening kissing during Food Network ad breaks in Brooke’s room in San Fran, they were yet to officially spend a night together together. And a room all to themselves would mean they could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, without having to run halfway across the hotel to brush their teeth or change clothes. Vanessa was also desperate to explore every inch of Brooke’s body and do whatever she could to make her feel good, but Brooke’s slight hesitation in that moment made her doubt herself.

“We don’t have to, don’t worry, I was just thinking it might be nice to spend some time alone together since it’s been so long since we’ve been together just the two of us, but I understand if you want your personal space, I know you probably don’t want all my bikinis and shit cluttering up your room and…”

Before Vanessa could finish ranting, Brooke stopped her by pressing their lips together, so soft in contrast to Vanessa’s erratic rambling.

“Yes”, was all she needed to say, before Vanessa grinned like the Cheshire Cat and pulled her in for a longer kiss, not even caring that the rest of their crewmates had already left.  

The atmosphere was unusually quiet in the girls’ room. Brooke had opened the door to the balcony, looking out onto the beach, meanwhile Vanessa rifled through her suitcase to find her phone charger. She really should start organising her luggage better one day, maybe Brooke could teach her. Neither had uttered a word to each other since walking through the door to their humble double room, and both seemed reluctant to be the first to break the tension. Eventually, having successfully plugged her phone in to charge, Vanessa decided to take a shower to wash the smell of Boeing off of her skin. Singing off-key to herself as she lathered up her fruity shampoo, she didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close again.

“Need some help?”

Vanessa jumped as she realised that standing in front of her was the most perfect, beautiful woman she has ever seen, completely naked, and looking at Vanessa with matching awe.

“If you want to”, was all Vanessa could muster before pushing herself onto the blonde goddess in front of her, pinning her against the wall of the shower cubicle and kissing her with a passion she’d never known she had. Brooke kissed back with a far greater intensity than any of their previous kisses, moving to nibble at Vanessa’s neck and clavicle.

Not content with not being in control, Brooke Lynn reached her hands down to grab Vanessa’s ass, and in one swift motion lifted her up and spun them around so that the shorter girl’s back was now against the tiled wall, with her legs wrapped as tightly as she could around Brooke’s hips. They continued kissing passionately, grabbing each other’s hair and softly moaning into each other’s mouth, when Brooke, who still had a hold on Vanessa as she inadvertently grinded against the Canadian’s pubic bone, lost her grip and could only watch as the brunette slid in slow-motion all the way down Brooke’s body like a firefighter’s pole, unable to land on her legs in time. She looked down at the shocked brown eyes staring up from the corner of the cubicle floor, not sure how it had happened, when the room was filled with the most glorious sound of Vanessa’s laughter. Once she’d started laughing, she couldn’t stop, which then infected Brooke to the point where neither could breathe. The situation only worsened with Brooke’s failed attempts to pull Vanessa back up again, the women’s hands slipping constantly in the stream of water.  

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I wanted to get you wet tonight”, Brooke barely managed to wheeze out as her stomach muscles ached from their sudden exertion. Just about succeeding to regain composure as Vanessa still howled below her, she turned off the shower and extended her hand, finally managing to pull the brunette up to stand beside her. They shared several soft kisses, hands wandering across their torsos, holding on to each other as if they might suddenly be split apart. As their kisses once more began getting more heated, Vanessa snickered and looked up at Brooke.

“My ass really hurts, I think you should kiss it better.”

All Brooke could do was roll her eyes and continue kissing Vanessa’s face, her smile never faltering.

“You are absolutely unbelievable, I can’t believe I have four more days of this.”

“You love it, really.”

Neither woman could possibly disagree, as they practically sprinted across the 1970’s-patterned carpet and jumped on the bed, which they had no intention of leaving in a hurry.

The whole duration of the flight home was spent with knowing smirks being passed between the other flight attendants as Brooke Lynn and Vanessa tried to remain professional and not hold hands or smash lips at every opportunity.

“Sooooo”, drawled Yvie over a dinner of over-cooked macaroni cheese behind the galley curtain, “did you two enjoy the beach?”

Vanessa began blushing as she stabbed her fork into her foil tray, looking to Brooke to save their dignity, however she appeared to be trying to shrink as far down as possible into her uniform blouse. They weren’t getting out of this one.

“I spent a lot of time there. There were a couple in the room next door to me who kept hammering shit to the walls and screaming about God all day and all night. I hope they had a good time, because I’m fucking tired.”

And with that, Yvie put her meal tray away and walked back out into the cabin, leaving Vanessa and Brooke to stare at each other in silence, willing the bottom of the plane to open up and suck them out.

-*-

They had been an item for six months. It was Brooke’s longest relationship, and the happiest six months of Vanessa’s life. It hadn’t been without its challenges: despite trying to synchronise rosters to spend more time together, they often found themselves on opposite sides of the continent for half of each week. They were eternally grateful for FaceTime, but nothing compared to the feeling of leaping into bed for a nap together after their respective flights home. They had both looked endlessly for flights they could work on together, sending out begging requests to swap at every opportunity, but none had been successful.

That was until Brooke cornered Yvie in the crew room, bought her a coffee, and pouted until the tall, brown-eyed girl had no choice to but cave.

“You still owe me about 20 hours of sleep from Hawaii, I’ll add this to your tab.”

Brooke’s initial plan had been to keep it a secret until the day of the flight to surprise Vanessa, but in her excited state, she couldn’t hold it in for one night.

“I’M COMING TO TAMPA!”

Flight six had been the best flight of all, with a fully-functioning plane, happy passengers, and the woman of her dreams across from her, somehow even making pouring coffee look sexy. Brooke Lynn thought back to their very first meeting, not quite remembering at which point it had all fallen into place, but she wouldn’t have changed a thing. She was in love.

Vanessa, feeling exactly the same way, couldn’t help but ride the overwhelming wave of joy whenever she thought about the tall blonde in front of her, handing out pretzels whilst looking like such a snack herself. Without wanting to scare Brooke Lynn away, Vanessa knew she was in this for the long run.

Just a couple of hours later, they walked through arrivals, each with one hand on their suitcases and the others linked together.

“I hope you don’t mind, baby, but I’ve already sorted out our transport home.” Vanessa smiled and squeeze Brooke’s hand, leading her through the throngs of lost-looking people in the terminal, until they were both embraced by two pairs of warm, welcoming arms.

“Mamá, Tía Alexis, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Brooke Lynn.”

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 11 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 11 of UNDONE, our Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters. (This is a repost from AO3/RGF - once we’re caught up, new chapters will go up.)

Summary: Courtney charms Bianca into accompanying her to the Hollywood Bowl.

TW: This story deals with themes of emotional abuse, and since that can be subtle, we’re going to keep a general TW on all of the chapters, even when it seems like it doesn’t apply.

***

“Good morning!” Courtney sings, entering the wardrobe trailer with a bright smile.

Bianca looks up from her sewing machine. “Hey. You’re early.”

“I know! I was hiking Runyon and I decided to come straight here instead of going home. My BFF Farrah let me use her shower. How’s it going?!” She grins again.

“How are you always so chipper? It’s not even 9 am. And you’ve already been hiking? Gross.” Bianca shakes her head, going back to the garment in front of her, ripping out a seam and putting it back into the machine. Her workload seems to have doubled recently, and she’s not sure why, but she is suddenly counting down the days until this shoot ends.

“Well, I dunno...it’s a beautiful day, and I have a pretty bitchin’ playlist in my car. It does a lot to elevate the mood, I guess.” Courtney perches on the stool, one elbow resting on Bianca’s work table.

“A playlist?” Bianca raises an eyebrow.

“It makes a difference,” Courtney insists. “I’ll make you one.”

“Oh, goody. Lorde, Arcade Fire, and the Decembrists. Just what I need in the mornings.”

Courtney giggles.

“No, that’s the depression playlist. You’ll like this one, I swear.” She tilts her head, watching Bianca work.

“Can’t wait,” Bianca says, then looks up at her, seeing her big soft eyes. Bianca shakes her head suspiciously. “Uh oh...”

“What?” Courtney asks, eyes fluttering innocently.

“I can tell when you’re up to something,” Bianca says. “What’s going on?”

“Well...since you brought it up-”

“I didn’t bring anything up-”

“Okay. So. Okay, well, there’s this thing at the Hollywood Bowl and I’ve always wanted to do it and none of my other friends ever want to because it’s not punk or cool or edgy, and-”

“And so you’re coming to the least cool, edgy person you know? Thanks.” Bianca rolls her eyes.

“Well, no. But like, I know you like musicals, so...uh...how would you feel about the Sound of Music Sing-A-Long?”

“That sounds horrifying, Courtney!” Bianca laughs. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s supposed to be really fun!” She says, jumping up. “They show the movie, and there’s a pre-show, and-”

“A pre-show? That movie is five hours long-”

“And it’s the Bowl so we can bring the dogs. We can dress up the dogs!” Courtney bounces on the balls of her feet, eyes hopeful and expectant.

“The Sound of Music is so goddamn cheesy…” Bianca groans dramatically, pushing back her chair, already pretty sure that she’s going to cave.

“You’re cheesy!” Courtney counters.

Bianca crosses her arms, staring Courtney down.

“Charmian Carr is gonna be there!” Courtney exclaims.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“She played Liesl!”

“Wow. You really want to go to this dumb thing,” Bianca says, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“Yes! I really want to go! Please, will you come? Pleeeeeease?” Courtney kneels down by Bianca’s chair, wrapping her arms around the older girl’s waist. “I’ll buy box seats and all the wine you can possibly drink,” she adds, laying a head in her lap and batting her eyes.

“Okay, okay okay. Why didn’t you just lead with ‘all the wine you can drink?’” Bianca laughs.

Courtney squeals excitedly and hugs Bianca tighter.

“Thank you! I’ll buy the tickets today!”

Bianca bites her lip, trying to suppress her smile.

“Whatever.”

***

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Bianca asks, looking Courtney up and down. She’s got on an unseasonal white sundress and milkmaid braids in her hair.

“Uh, hello? Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes…” Courtney says, rolling her eyes as if this should be obvious. She clocks Bianca’s all black ensemble, and adds, “...and I see you’ve come as a nun?”

“Do you want me to get out of the car?” Bianca challenges.

“No, I’m sorry, you’re stunning and beautiful and I love you!” Courtney corrects.

“Better,” Bianca laughs, buckling her seatbelt. “So where’s the wine?”

***

Already a little buzzed from the car ride, Bianca grins over at Courtney while they stand in line at the Bowl.

“I’m so excited!” Courtney whispers, grabbing Bianca’s arm happily.

Bianca notices a lock of hair that’s fallen out of her blonde braids, and tucks it gently behind her ear. She doesn’t realize until her fingertips graze Courtney’s skin how intimate the gesture is, and pulls her hand back quickly.

“Thanks.” Courtney grips her arms tighter, flashing a smile.

Bianca valiantly ignores the heat creeping into her cheeks as she smiles back, clearing her throat.

***

“So yeah, then my niece climbs out of the car seat and starts screaming, and of course you don’t want to laugh, but there’s just something so ridiculously funny about a 2-year-old who’s just so mad, you know? They are fucking indignant! I really identified with her.” Bianca laughs, taking a sip of her wine, then setting the plastic cup down and wiping the corner of her mouth, where her shiny red lipstick is slightly smudged.

Courtney’s eyes focus on her lips. Those full, kissable lips. Cherry red and glossy…

“Sometimes I wish it was acceptable for adults to throw tantrums. I mean, real adults, not just actors-”

Courtney lunges across the table, pressing her mouth against Bianca’s, tasting her lips, hands tangling in her hair. Bianca’s blue eyes go wide in shock, gripping Courtney’s shoulders.

“What are you-”

“Sorry, I just really like your lipstick. I wanted to try it on,” Courtney says coyly, thumb brushing against Bianca’s smooth round cheek.

Dimples appear under her hands and Bianca giggles. “Oh, well in that case…” She leans forward, kissing Courtney again, her mouth soft and firm and sweet.

Courtney smiles, savoring the taste of her, eyes falling closed...

“Courtney!”

Courtney jumps. “What?”

“What are you staring at?”

“Uh...nothing. What? Nothing.” Courtney takes a sip of her wine and smiles sheepishly.

***

“The hiiiiiills are alive! With the sound of muuuuusic!” Courtney trills happily. She looks over at Bianca and nudges her. “B, why aren’t you singing?”

“I’m not a singer.”

“So? It’s a sing-a-long!”

“Yeah, well, not for me. But keep going, you sound great. You should do this professionally.”

“Beeeee…” Courtney pouts, pulling on her arm. “You gotta sing. That’s the fun of it.”

“I would sound silly.”

“Yeah, and? This whole night is silly.”

Bianca looks over at her, taking a pointed sip of her wine.

“Maybe after another bottle or two.”

Courtney nods, producing a couple more bottles of wine from her bag and setting them decisively on the table.

“Cheers, cunt.”

Bianca holds firm during ‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria’ and ‘Confidence,’ despite Courtney singing in her face and skipping around like a child on a sugar high.

It’s during ‘My Favorite Things,’ when she finally caves, warning Courtney that she’s about to subject her to some off-key bullshit.

“And also, I have to take it down an octave, so-”

“Omigod, will you just sing, you whiny bitch!” Courtney exclaims, throwing up her hands. “No one cares!” She sways a little, realizing that trying to keep up with Bianca where alcohol is concerned was an ill-advised move.

Bianca places her hands on her hips, glaring at Courtney and then belting, “When the dog bites! When the bee stings! When I’m feeling bad…”

Courtney bounces up and down, clapping happily, and takes her hand.

***

“Why do you keep rubbing your neck?” Courtney asks, emptying what’s left of a bottle of pinot grigio into Bianca’s cup.

“I dunno, it’s been bothering me. I guess I’m getting old.”

“Huh. Well. Just so you know...I have a hot tub.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously.

Bianca purses her lips and clears her throat.

“Noted.”

Courtney grins and turns back to the screen, goosebumps prickling her arms. She’s not sure if they’re coming from the chilly breeze or her reckless flirting.

***

Hours later, as the Von Trapps scale an Alp and the lights get brighter, Bianca looks over at Courtney, snuggled up to her side, a head resting on her shoulder, a pang of regret in her chest as she rouses her gently.

“Hey, sleeping beauty…”

“Mmmhmmm…” Courtney murmurs, nuzzling Bianca’s shoulder. “Five more minutes.”

Bianca looks up at the sky, praying for her damned soul, wishing that she could enjoy the innocent cuddling she’d been suffering from all night without the filthy thoughts currently running through her head.

***

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Bianca lowers her eyes, trying to avoid Courtney’s piercing gaze.

“Like what?”

“Like...I dunno. Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

Bianca watches as Courtney shifts her focus out the window. After a few moments, she’s even more uncomfortable with the lack of attention than she was from Courtney’s eyes on her. She reaches over and touches her hand.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just like...I’m drunk and I’m being weird.”

Courtney turns back to her, biting her lip.

“Me too.”

“Right. So, sorry.” Bianca’s heart suddenly leaps into her throat as Courtney places a hand on her leg.

“Thanks for coming tonight. It was a dream come true.”

“Of course. It was fun,” Bianca manages to squeak out.

Courtney nods as a smile lights up her eyes.

***

Courtney rests her head on the edge of the hot tub, looking across the water at Bianca, green eyes inscrutable.

“The water’s nice, eh?”

“Mmmhmm…” Bianca answers, trying to figure out the meaning behind her cryptic expression.

“How’s your neck?”

“Better,” Bianca replies.

“Told you.” Courtney sips her wine. “My swimsuit looks good on you.”

Bianca grins.

“Thanks. I’m frankly surprised that you own one bathing suit, much less two.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Courtney replies breathily.

“Calm down.”

“To be honest, I’m only wearing the top for your benefit. I’m trying to be...appropriate.”

Bianca takes a long sip of her wine, eyes fixated on Courtney’s face, that hint of wickedness in her eyes that ties Bianca’s insides into knots.

“Don’t let me stifle you,” she says finally.

Courtney’s mouth twists into a smirk, head tilting.

“Is that a dare?”

Bianca shrugs, one eyebrow barely lifting, heart racing.

With a gentle tug, Courtney unties the strings securing her bikini top, letting it float away from her hands in the warm water. She bats her lashes.

“Your turn.”

Bianca does everything in her power to keep her expression impassive as she slowly sets her empty wine glass down and removes her top, carefully draping it over the edge of the hot tub.

Courtney inhales slowly.

“More wine?” Her voice sounds shaky.

“Sure.” But instead of handing over the glass, Bianca leaves it where it is, giving Courtney a challenging look.

Courtney stands up, water dripping down her body, and slowly walks toward Bianca with the wine bottle.

Heat is coiled deep in Bianca’s belly as she approaches, fills the wine glass, waits. She puts the bottle down, but stays, little goosebumps breaking out over her skin from the chilly night air. Bianca’s heart is in her throat, wondering which one of them is going to end this torture.

Bianca’s pulse quickens as Courtney reaches out a hand, fingers brushing against her cheek. Her heart leaps into her throat, relishing the touch but craving more.

As if reading her mind, Courtney takes both hands and cups her face, tilting her head back.

“Is this what you want?” Courtney whispers, lips hovering so close, Bianca can taste them.

“Yes...yes,” Bianca lets out a groan as Courtney’s mouth finds hers. Her hands are everywhere - Courtney’s back, her ass, her hair. She can’t stop touching her, all over, as Courtney kisses her and kisses her.

At the sound of Courtney’s breathless moan, Bianca pulls her even closer, rocking against her. And then Courtney’s hand is drifting down her torso, fingers slipping inside her bottoms. Bianca whimpers and arches up against her fingers, quickly coming undone in her arms. She buries her face into Courtney’s neck, intoxicated by the taste of her, the softness of her body in the water.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Courtney says, fingers circling her clit.

“I’m yours, I’m yours…” Bianca moans brokenly.

Bianca bolts upright, trying to catch her breath. After panting for a few moments, disoriented, she looks guiltily over at Jared.

“Didja have a bad dream?” he murmurs, reaching for her.

“Um…” Bianca swallows and lays back down, adding, “I, uh...actually don’t remember. I think maybe I was...falling…”

Jared chuckles and slips his arms around her waist.

“Go back to sleep, babe.”

Bianca turns, resting a head on his chest and wondering what the fuck is wrong with her.

***

“Okay, so just...you’re gonna need to wear this and don’t be weird about it,” Bianca instructs, handing a small ziplock bag to Courtney and hating the way her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Courtney opens the bag and pulls out a nude thong.

“Just this?” she asks, dangling it between her fingers. “My agent didn’t tell me that there was nudity on the schedule.”

“Ugh, I hate you,” Bianca grumbles, turning away. “Just put it on and I’ll bring you your dress, asshole!”

Courtney giggles, stepping behind the curtain to change.

“This is pretty exciting,” she says. “I mean, if my knickers matter, then I’m assuming it’s not another Sandra Dee look.”

“Nope. Eliza’s big break. Think...Marilyn Monroe in All About Eve.”

“Fuck yeah! I thought that the hair looked sexier than usual.”

“Yup.” Bianca unzips the garment bag and taps her foot nervously.

“Okay, where’s the dress?” Courtney asks, emerging from behind the curtain in nothing but the provided underwear.

“Here…” Bianca rushes forward with the beaded gown, helping Courtney step into it. She turns her quickly and zips up the side, anxious both to cover her and, admittedly, to see what she looks like wearing it.

Courtney examines herself in the mirror, turning slightly, delight all over her face. The dress is floor length and form-fitting, covered in intricate beading, with a sexy open back and delicate straps.

“I’m stealing this dress, thanks,” she announces, grinning.

“Really…” Bianca hands her a pair of silver shoes.

“Seriously though, where did you get it? One of those big studio rental houses?”

“It’s not a rental.”

“Um, let’s be real, Bianca. Your boss is lovely, but she didn’t design this,” Courtney snickers. “It’s way too romantic and sexy and...well, it’s just not Beth.”

“Right.” Bianca drapes a fur over her shoulders, saying, “So, you like it?”

“I love it!”

Catching her eye in the mirror, Bianca grins, flashing her dimples.

“Good.”

“B…”

“Yes?” Bianca smiles sweetly.

“Did you design this dress?”

“I may have…”

Courtney turns around, hands on her hips.

“Bianca Del Rio, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

Bianca laughs.

“I wanted to know what you thought first.”

“Bianca! What if I’d said something douchey?” Courtney demands.

“Well, then I would have said Beth designed it. And done better next time.”

Courtney narrows her eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips.

“It’s stunning. You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” Bianca says, fluttering her lashes.

“And a cunt.”

Bianca bursts out laughing, handing Courtney a small, jeweled clutch and gesturing for her to stand for her picture.

“Guilty as charged, I suppose.”

“I might have to commission you to help me with Halloween,” Courtney says, eyes glittering.

“You sure you can afford me?”

Courtney scoffs, turning around and tossing shining blonde finger-waved hair over her shoulder. Bianca watches her sashay towards the door, captivated by the way the gown hugs her slender body, perfectly accentuating every curve. Suddenly, all of the extra hours she’d put in to finish the gown feel worth it. After a few moments, she runs forward to help her with the door and down the trailer steps.

“Fine,” she says, fingers gripping Courtney’s hand a little tighter than she means to. “I’ll do it.” Her blue eyes are soft, locked on Courtney’s.

Courtney bites her lip and leans forward, the fur sliding down her shoulders and brushing against Bianca’s arm.

“We’ll see…” she murmurs softly, loving the way Bianca’s full lips purse into a pout when she’s teased.

Bianca clears her throat, adding, “Take care of that dress, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” Courtney replies, flashing one last smile at Bianca before she heads towards the van.

***

Bianca walks into her bedroom, touching her cheek to test if her face mask is dry. Jared chuckles softly from the bed.

“Wow, really keeping the mystery alive, huh?”

“I do what I can,” Bianca answers, sticking her tongue out at him. She’s about to head into the bathroom when her phone starts vibrating. She picks it up, hoping that everything is okay.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy B, what’re ya doin’?” Courtney’s breathy voice slurs slightly, sounding younger and hoarser than usual, and Bianca can hear music thump in the background.

“I’m getting ready for bed.” She glances up at Jared, who’s buried in his laptop, and exits the room quickly, peeling the mask off her face and shutting the door firmly behind her.

“No, Bianca, don’t go to bed. Come out with us! Everyone misses you...we’re at Mickey’s.”

“It’s 12:30,” Bianca answers, fingers pressing into the bathroom counter. “On a Thursday.”

“So? You’re like five minutes away. Don’t you live in Beverly Hills?”

“No, I’m in Brentwood,” Bianca tells her.

“What’s the difference?” Courtney then shrieks, giggling and yelling for someone to stop.

“It sounds like you’re having plenty of fun without me, Court.”

“No. No, you don’t understand. I need you. I need you here. Please.”

Bianca’s stomach twists. She knows that this is just drunken babbling, but it’s having an effect on her nonetheless.

“Courtney, I-”

“Omigod, B! They’re playing Britney!” she squeals, then begins singing along, “Fakin' like a good one, but I call 'em like I see 'em I know what you are. What you are, baby! Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you're a womanizer...”

Bianca’s eyes are closed. Why does she wish that she was there in person, that the drunken throaty singing was in her face, where she could see Courtney’s flashing green eyes, instead of just over the phone?

“Next time, Court. I promise.”

“Beee,” Courtney whines, then asks, “You really promise?”

“Yeah. Have fun. Be safe.”

“Okay. Goonight, B. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Court. I-” Bianca stops abruptly as the phone cuts out. She stares at it for a few seconds, pulse racing. She splashes water on her face, then applies a layer of moisturizer, trying to calm her nerves.

“Everything cool in there?” Jared calls. Bianca opens the bathroom door and looks at him.

She takes a deep breath, rushing forward and flinging herself at him.

“Whoa, hey, what’s gotten into you?” Jared asks, arms sliding into her t-shirt.

“I just, I really…” Bianca pants against his mouth. “I really want you.”

“Well, alright…” Jared kisses her deeply, pulling her top off.

As his mouth moves down her neck, Bianca grasps his hair, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to convince herself that this sudden rush of lust has everything to do with her husband, and nothing to do with the husky, liquored-up voice of a certain blonde.

***

The next day, Courtney enters the wardrobe trailer tentatively, a look of embarrassment on her face.

“Good morning,” Bianca says, jotting down a note on the polaroid in her binder.

“Hey.” Courtney clears her throat, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“How was your night?”

Courtney sighs, letting out a soft groan as she slumps on the stool.

“Just put me out of my misery. How bad was it?”

“What do you mean?” Bianca asks.

“Please, B. I saw that I called you, but I don’t remember. I haven’t been that drunk in ages. So...was I like, a total mess?”

Bianca looks up. Courtney’s face is tense and anxious as she bites on her cuticles. Bianca knows that the wise move here is to let her off the hook.

“You were fine. You just babbled about Britney and told me that I should come to the club. Because apparently I’m WeHo adjacent.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Anyway, uh...what am I wearing today?”

***

Bianca’s pencil moves across the sketchpad. She pauses and wrinkles her nose, flipping to a new page. She’s been listening to Courtney’s playlist on Spotify, over-analyzing every song and driving herself stark raving mad.

She’d finished “Physical,” but, lest she think that some kind of coded messaging is at play, the next song to come up was “It’s Raining Men.”

It's raining men, hallelujah It's raining men, every specimen Tall, blonde, dark and lean Rough and tough and strong and mean...

Her momentary confusion is interrupted by an incoming text message.

COURTNEY: Come out tonight

BIANCA: Excuse me?

COURTNEY: Please

BIANCA: lol, I wish.

COURTNEY: Got better plans?

BIANCA: We’re about to order dinner and watch a movie.

COURTNEY: BOOOOO

BIANCA: I’m working on your costume, though. So be grateful.

COURTNEY: Well...alright. I guess in that case you get a pass

BIANCA: Next time, promise

COURTNEY: Holding my breath...

Bianca pauses, listening to the music for a few moments.

I think I did it again I made you believe we're more than just friends Oh baby It might seem like a crush But it doesn't mean that I'm serious...

She heaves a sigh and taps out a reply.

BIANCA: Goodnight. XO

After another moment, she deletes the “XO” and hits send.

COURTNEY: Goodnight, muffin. <3 <3 <3