#he is just so so so SUPER anxious all the time lately and Santino is being SO MEAN going after him

[imwritesometimes]

I really, really, really need positive vibes for Felix rn y'all 😔 poor little dude is chewing himself real bad again and is just really going through it anxiety-wise. I really need the feliway diffusers I got to come fast and actually work & help him omg 🤞🤞🤞

[artificialqueens]

Sk8er Girl CH2 (Trixya)- Squeaky Pink

Trixya!HS AU. Trixie is a nerdy, girly girl with bows and frills. Katya is a skater chick with scuffed knees and a  Flazéda attitude. When they’re assigned as lab partners, can they discover chemistry together?

Or: She was a sk8er girl. She said see you later girl. She wasn’t good enough for her (or was she?).

[AN: Pink Shrooms aka Squeaky Pink. We’re writing this together but alternating chapters and POVs. Pinky is Trixie’s POV and Squeaky is Katya’s POV. We wanted to write the ending of this chapter based on the actual experience of a friend. The goal was to emulate life it its honest, messy way.]

PLAYING HOOKY

“You have to stop crashing at our place,” Alaska snaps as she throws open the curtains of the trailer. Katya groans and rubs her eyes. Ugh, she can still taste last night’s booze.

“But I thought you liked it when I warmed your couch? Doesn’t it get lonely without me?” Katya yawns as she grabs some cereal from the drawer. Sharon Needles greets her with the middle finger as she comes out of the bedroom in a leather studded jacket.

“Nah, bitch. ‘Lasky and I like to fuck without you a fart’s distance away, listening to our every creak.”

“I’ll close my ears next time.”

“Girl, you live right next to the skate park. So why are you constantly come crawling over to this dumpster?”

“The scenic view,” Katya says and gestures out the window to the pile of rubber tires. Willam zooms past them. Then the whirlwind of a girl kicks open the door, cracks open a can of beer from the fridge, and raises her eyebrows at the three of them.

“So we gonna skate or you blonde fucks too busy finger-popping each others’ assholes?”

“You’re blonde too,” Alaska points out.

“That’s bottle-blonde,” Willam burps. “AKA the dick sucking brand of blonde. Y’all be the lesbian variety.”

“I’m bisexual, bitch,” Katya says, flicking Willam on the forehead and stealing her drink. It’s too early to be drinking, especially on a Wednesday, but it’s not the worst decision she has made this week.

She sighs in relief as the LA sun warms her back, the wind whips her hair, and wheels happily hum against the concrete. Katya’s still a little sore from her fall a couple of days ago, but it’s nothing an early morning spin can’t soothe.

They practice new tricks. Willam finds a new trick and sneaks off into the bushes with him. Alaska tries to ride on Sharon’s back, but they end up collapsing on top of each other, laughing like idiots. Katya smiles up at the blue sky. In the distance, she sees the yellow school bus chugging by, and her easy smile falls away.

“Aw, shit, gotta get my ass to math class before princi-PAL Ru-PAL suspends me,” Willam says and snaps her fingers. “Again.”

“I’m just gonna stay here,” Katya mumbles as her friends grab their backpacks.

Alaska throws a friendly hand over her shoulder: “Can I assssk you a question?”

“Yeah?”

“How are you going to graduate if you don’t show up? I’m surprised that you, pardon the expression, have the balls to skip so much school with that Barbie doll as your lab partner.”

Katya rubs her fingers over the bandaid. She bites her lip as she remembers how gently Trixie had applied it. Sure, Trixie had come off as a bitch during class, but Katya also saw a softer side to her that afternoon. Fuck, then those stupid tampons and Katya had run away…

They’d made Katya anxious. Her? Anxious? Groundbreaking. She wasn’t ready to come out to Trixie as trans. Although she definitely liked Trixie, they just weren’t that close. Trixie was an out and proud lesbian…so maybe being a part of the LGBT community she’d be more understanding? Katya shook her head; she didn’t want to risk it. It’s none of Trixie’s business, anyway.   

She sighs: Why bother, ‘Lasky? My brain’s full of small mice that run and run, but they’re going nowhere. You think my mouse-run brain’s gonna get me to college? Nah, fuck school knowledge. I should just take the GED exam so I can spend more time practicing my skating for competitions.“

Alaska squeezes her shoulder, but Willam gives the back of Katya’s helmet a firm smack.

“Now listen. Stop being stupid, stupid! Teachers want you to graduate, so they don’t gotta deal with yo ass. So just show up and show tits. Unless you have Michelle Visage, then wear a turtleneck. I’m saying this cause I love you, and I don’t want to see you sellin’ that ass on the side of road for a quarter when you’re worth a million bucks. Go to school. Get a diploma. Maybe get head from a hottie. And get the fuck over yourself.”

Katya laughs even as she shakes her head. God, why are her friends so amazing? Even though she’d rather spend the rest of the day here, perfecting her moves at the park, Katya goes with them to school.

Choices.

——

BACK TO SCHOOL (AGAIN)

First period is gym, and Katya’s secretly glad to trade in her helmet for a badminton racket. Coach Santino gives her a nod and tosses her a birdie. Most students think he’s a creep ever since that rumor that he took Violet Chachki to Red Lobster and ate her out, but he seems ok. Well, at least he doesn’t have a dildo wedged up his ass like Ms. Del Rio.

Katya plays a game with Alaska. Their shots fail to go over the net, but they’re giggling anyways. Gym has always been her favorite period. Besides lunch and study hall.

RIIIIIIIIIIIING.

Katya slumps into the back of English class, and they’re reading -surprise!- Shakespeare. More like Shakesqueer, Katya mouths to Sharon Needles. They fist bump. It’s Romeo and Juliet, and everyone groans except for this one girl with grey hair, Max, who’s a little too excited to do assigned reading. Oh, wait, she’s a theater kid, so of course she diddles herself to The Bard.

“It’s the most romantic play of all time! I can feel every line in my bosom,” Max sighs.

Bosom? Suuuure. Katya zones out and looks up a Sparknotes summary on her phone. Romeo is super in love with this Rosaline girl one day and then Juliet the next day? Wow, true love. Katya’s seen this exact drama played out behind the skate park bushes at least twice a week featuring less death and more herpes.

“Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,” Max reads with a pathetic sigh. Katya wants to stab her eye with her pencil.

Katya is relieved when English class finishes. “If I have to listen to that British girl jerking off to Romeo’s monologues for the rest of this week…I don’t think I’m coming back,” Katya groans as they walk out back to the dumpster. She lights up Sharon’s cigarette and then her own.

“Love is bullshit,” Sharon agrees as Alaska arrives; she offers the younger girl a puff.  

“You have a girlfriend though.”

“Nah, I gotta friend, who likes to fuck. Big difference. Romeo just wanted to stick it in, so he had to get married to do it to please the patriarchy. Worst thing that happened to us gays was when we started getting gay-married.”

“Are you sure?” Katya rolls her eyes. “Are you sure that’s the worst thing that’s happened to us gays in the last hundred years?”

“Ok, maybe not. But love is fake and marriage is an institution.”

Alaska snaps her fingers in agreement and gives Sharon Needles a peck on the cheek. Ugh, for two people who think love is fake, they look like they are going to elope and drive to Las Vegas any day now. They’re that one couple that everyone knows is a thing, but they pretend it’s not as serious as it is. Katya has a That’s-So-Raven moment where she sees their wedding invitations. Gross.

“I mean is capitalism’s corporate dick wedged deep inside our every sacred tradition, including marriage? Yes. Do I still think social equality for the LGBT community is important? Fuck yes.”

Katya and Sharon go back and forth. Katya wishes that school was like this- a real debate. She wishes that it wasn’t always regurgitating the teachers’ opinions for a grade. Then the bell rings and they head inside, but Katya stays to finish. As she deeply inhales the smoke, Katya rubs the Barbie Band-Aid once more. Why hasn’t she taken it off yet?

“Oh, good, look who decided to show up,” Ms. Del Rio deadpans.

“McDonald’s wasn’t hiring,” Katya jokes back as the entire class laughs. Laganja chirps ‘okuuurrr.’ Ms. Del Rio gives Katya a look like drop another test tube and you’ll wish they were hiring.

Katya forgot her lab manual, periodic table, and basically everything at home, so she just slinks down next to Trixie. She hates that her stomach twists up into a knot when the blonde smiles at her. Katya almost forgets how to smile back.

“I scared you off, huh? Sorry…I tend to have that kind effect on people,” Trixie softly whispers as Ms. Del Rio dims the lights.

Katya’s fingers brush against Trixie’s as they reach for their pencils. Katya may not believe in love, but she believes in the way her thighs clench with arousal at the touch. Electric. Trixie’s wearing a strapless dress, which is tight around her breasts, and Katya believes in the way her cock twitches at the sight.

Katya’s glad the lights are low enough to hide her heated face. What? She’s eighteen and horny, and Trixie Mattel is the world’s least likely girl to ever sleep with her. All things considered, Katya would do anything to bury her face between those thick thighs. 

She tries to slow her breathing and concentrate on the video about potassium. Nothing like ions to try and take your mind off of your growing erection. Katya shouldn’t have worn denim shorts this tight, but it’s too late to do anything but squirm in her seat with regret and arousal.

Trixie leans in, breath curling against Katya’s ear: “Did the Band-Aid help?”

“Not without the expert care of my favorite Barbie nurse,” Katya says, trying for flirty, but she kind of stumbles at the end and lands closer to awkward. Curse Trixie and her breasts and bows and brains! If only Katya had that many B’s on her report card, her parents might actually want her to come home. Wow, now she’s horny and anxious? An all time low.

“What made you come back to chemistry?”

My asshole friends.

“You,” Katya promises with a wink.

Trixie snorts and rolls her eyes. She’s so frustratingly superior, and Katya should hate her for that. It kind of turns her on though. Katya likes when Trixie sasses her with a single look, and, wow, thoughts like that aren’t helping with the boner situation. It’s hard -pun intended- to think when Trixie’s around.

“Sorry about the tampons.”

Katya flinches. Ok, erection effectively killed.

“Don’t mention it. No, like, please, don’t mention it.”

“I thought it was weird that you ran, but I talked to my friends and…well, Max has a chronically shallow vagina, and she says that tampons won’t fit. So, I don’t know you or your medical history, and if I somehow triggered you, I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

Thinking about Max’s chronically shallow vagina has made Katya very un-hard. Wow, that’s the first time that Katya has ever been thankful someone un-aroused her. Chemistry class has taken a turn for the weird. Just how Katya likes it.

“It’s ok,” she promises. “I promise not to run away from you again, if you help me figure out how to pass this class. Da?”

“Wait…you know Russian?”

“I don’t just know it– I am Russian. I was brought here when I was six, so I don’t have an accent. Why?”

“Because I want to go to college in Russia!” Trixie whispers. “Please help me, and I’ll reach-around to help you.”

Ok, now that just sounds vaguely like a sex act. Courtney twists around at her lab table and gives them both a knowing look.

“Fuck, yeah!”

Wow, that was not her inside voice. That wasn’t even her outside voice. That’s her in-the-basement jerking off to porn voice, and now everyone in the room is staring.

Ms. Del Rio click-clacks over to them, and Katya wants to cower under the lab table. The woman hands them both a slip for lunch detention. Trixie gasps as she’s given the pink slip, holding it like it’s covered in poisonous chemicals. 

“I see that I have a couple of clowns in my class this year, so let me repeat- all foolishness will earn you a detention slip. If you don’t want to behave, get packing.”

Katya doesn’t give a shit, but Trixie buries her face into her hands and doesn’t speak to her for the rest of the period. The lab is so simple even Katya manages to get it. Trixie’s face is blank, but Katya can see the hurt just under the surface. She wishes that she knew how to approach her or what to say. Once more, she’s reminded of what different worlds they come from.

“Hey, so do you still want to tutor-”

“You smell like cigarettes,” Trixie snaps and rushes out of the classroom, pink slip crumpled up in her hand.

Katya usually is the first to bolt after class, but she goes up to Ms. Del Rio instead: “I did everything! I cursed and came in late and- and please don’t punish Trixie for me being an idiot.”

“You were both talking. You both get detention. Next?”

“No! I wasn’t talking to Trixie I, uh, I was…talking to myself?” Katya stammers and it’s ridiculous even for her. “Please, don’t punish Trixie. She’s trying her best and school is so important to her-”

“Then she’ll go to lunch detention. I don’t believe in special treatment, Ms. Zamo. I’ll see you both in an hour,” Ms. Del Rio says, and her word is law. What is this? Prison?

Katya skips social studies to smoke behind the bleachers with Laganja. She rants about science class, omitting her erection, and questions why school is structured like the penal system. Laganja replies with her usual yes, mawma, preach, god.

Katya comes back, reeking even worse of smoke, and sits a lab table away from Trixie. She bought french fries and milk. Part of a balanced diet. Ms. Del Rio silently grades work at the front of the room, but then she leaves half way through to go to the bathroom.

“Pssstt,” Katya faux-whispers. “Sorry. Hey, are we even on the whole running away from each other thing?”

“Sure. It’s fine,” Trixie mutters, tearing her chicken nuggets in half and opening up her chem notes. That’s the least ‘fine’ fine Katya has ever heard. Fuuuuck, trust her to have a crush on the girl who’s in love with her school work. They’re in chemistry class, but this feels like a lesson in subtraction; Katya should just subtract her being from Trixie’s being. Maybe then Trixie wouldn’t look so miserable.

Katya sighs.

What bullshit did Shakespeare write? Love is smokey sighs? Accurate.

Katya wishes that she had asked Alaska and Sharon what to do. They were the most functional dysfunctional couple that she’d ever met. How did they manage it?

Remedial algebra passes in a blur of numbers. Tick tock. Katya wants to jump over the clock and punch Mr. Davis with a sock. That’s the gibberish that she texts Willam at least.

Suck his cock -W

U say that whenever anyone has a problem. Broken heart? Suck. Broken leg? Suck. Broken moral compass? Suck. -K

If it’s broken, sucking a cock will help. 10/10. User tested and reviewed. -W

How about if u…hurt someone’s feelings? -K

Hurt how? Fucked their mother kinda hurt? -W

Like if you accidentally got them into detention? And they don’t have a dick to potentially suck??? -K

Uhhhhhhhh, lick their clit -W

Metaphorically? -K

OK, MAX. -W

Hmm -W

Try ‘sorry’ -W

Tried that -K

Try it again but this time with your face in between her thighs ;) -W

Katya laughs and sends a gif of a burning hot dog because it feels right in this wiener driven context. She remembers when she came out as trans to her, and Willam was legit like ‘damn, you got the best of both worlds, Hannah Montana.’ Willam never failed to make her laugh.

She arrives at ninth period Intro to Psychology feeling like she’s lost ten years off her life. How has so much drama happened? On a Wednesday for fucks sake.

It’s started to lightly drizzle, and Katya jiggles her foot as she watches the rain streak down the window. Good thing she has a baseball bat, water bottle, and umbrella in her locker. It’s an ‘escape kit’ for a potential zombie apocalypse. Huh, guess Katya’s like Trixie in that way, always preparing for the worst.

“Write down five words that describe you and try to connect those different parts of your identities. Which one is most important to you? In this Unit of Psychology we’ll be exploring ourselves…”

Katya can think of a lot of words that describe her perfectly: skater, chronic under achiever, ADD, bisexual, trans, disappointment—

Disappointment. That’s the word that keeps repeating in her head as she doodles a tattoo design on the side of her paper. Her parents would never approve of a hammer and sickle tattoo, but Katya’s stopped living her life for them. She stopped the day she’d come out as trans ten years ago. Katya had already been wearing skirts around the house since she came to America, but, when she turned eight, Katya gave the middle finger to the world.

Now, she’s eighteen, and her middle finger is still firmly in the air. Her mother, Pat, understands, but her father doesn’t- he never did. He looks at her, silent, like she’s a mistake. Fuck. Katya excuses herself to go pee. She can’t think of words when her brain keeps racing around like a mouse from one thought crumb to the next. Katya stays in the bathroom stall longer than necessary, pressing her head into her hands.

By the time the bell rings, the rain is coming down hard. Katya can only see the yellow blur of buses and the distant green of trees. Alaska and Sharon are making out on top of her locker, and she pushes them off. 

“Ay, this is the thanks we get for letting you stay in our humble abode?” Sharon grumbles.

“Please keep all hands and tongues inside your space while near my locker. This is a 'No Slobber Zone.’ Bitch needs to keep dry.”

“Mhm, that’s not what Willam’s been texting,” Alaska says and raises her eyebrow. “Says you want to make someone wet…with apology tears.”

“Willam’s a Willam.”

“And you’re showing all the signs of being in looove. Sighing? Lying? Laganja told Gia who told Alyssa who told me that you begged Ms. Del Rio not to give Trixie Mattel detention. What’s really going on with you and Barbie, huh?”

“Nothing,” Katya lies and flushes. Wow, it’s a good thing she’s a skater and not a poker player. Her red cheeks are a dead give away.

———

LOST KITTEN

The buses have left by the time Katya rolls outside, red umbrella above her. The pavement is slippery, so Katya forces herself to slow down. She can’t go to the skate park, and, after this morning, she can’t go back to the trailer park. Heart sinking, Katya directs herself home.

Just as she’s turning the corner, Katya sees the saddest sight. Trixie is walking without an umbrella. Her bow is soggy. Her Moschino backpack is practically dragging on the ground.

“Need umbrella? Da?” Katya says with a faux-Russian accent.

Trixie pushes a strand of wet hair from her forehead and smiles: “My knight on a shining skateboard.”

Katya jumps off and tucks her board under her arm. Trixie’s hand brushes hers as she reaches up to hold the umbrella. Katya can’t help it when her cheeks heat up. Her? Blushing? Unheard of.

They walk in silence for a bit, and Katya knows that the events of this morning are still weighing heavily between them. Katya wishes she knew how to break through all of Trixie’s many shields, but she’s…so confusing. Somehow, the more confused Trixie makes her, the less Katya can stay away.

Rain, rain, don’t go away, Katya thinks as Trixie’s hip bumps against hers. You just saved this horrid day.

Katya opens her mouth to say that and then closes it. Everything she wants to say sounds dumb compared to how brilliant Trixie is. Everything might mean nothing when Trixie doesn’t know she’s trans. Why can’t she just say that? Just be the usual middle-finger-to-the-world girl that she is at home and with her friends?

Instead, Katya clears her throat. Pathetic. They pass by the town stores, and she wrinkles her nose at the reek of wet dog. There are too many strays in this town.

“Wait. Did you hear that?”

“What?” Katya stops, but there’s nothing but the rush of cars, splashing through puddles, and the roar of motorcycles. In the distance, she can hear the rumble of thunder. Trixie heads towards the dark alleyway, and Katya follows her.

“Look,” Trixie whispers, breathless.

Katya hears the most pathetic ‘meow’ as she leans down to see a cardboard box. On the outside it says ‘Lucky’s Treats,’ but, inside, there’s the most unlucky looking kitten. It sadly mewls as Trixie carefully reaches down.

“A kitten,” Trixie sighs as she hugs it to her breast. The motherly act makes Katya’s heart twist.

Suddenly, Katya can see the girl who fell to her knees to help her at the skate park. Trixie’s eyes are soft and lips parted when she looks up at Katya. How can one girl hide so much beauty?

“My mom is allergic to cats,” Trixie confesses as she looks up at her with pleading eyes.

“Well, I live in the basement cause my parents are allergic to me, so…yeah, come one, let’s sneak this kitty cat in.”

Trixie’s eyes light up, and she gratefully presses a kiss to Katya’s cheek. It might just be a friendly gesture, but Katya’s toes curl in her wet Converse. God, the sight of Trixie with that little kitten snuggled into her big chest is the best thing she’s seen all day. They debate over names before finally settling on ‘Lucky’ because that’s what it said on the side of the box. Besides, the little scrap of fur is lucky to have found them.

“Shhh,” Katya presses a finger to her lips as she slips in through the back door. They’re tracking water everywhere, so it will be obvious. Still, Katya’s main priority is helping Trixie and Lucky.

They give him milk and watch as he happily laps it up. Trixie’s head is in her hands, face still unguarded, as she happily watches. Trixie tells her a story about how she used to sneak into the animal shelter in the town over on Sundays, spend the whole day there, and tell her mom she was at church. Katya laughs; she thinks that she could listen to Trixie all day.

“Your turn,” Trixie says and nudges her knee. They’re pressed up close on the couch now, with their science homework spread out on the table. Fuck, she likes Trixie so much. She needs to be honest with her so that if Trixie pushes her away, it’ll be sooner rather than later. 

“When I was a little kid, I…came here from Russia. So I never felt like I fit in. Everyone saw some stranger, who didn’t speak how they spoke. Who didn’t look how they thought a- a “boy” should look.”

Trixie’s eyebrows shoot up and she covers her mouth. Then she laughs-

“Wait, you’re joking, right? You mean you were…a tomboy? Right?!”

“No, I…I’m transgender,” Katya says to her hands, afraid to look up at Trixie’s face.

Silence.

Lucky yawns and curls up on the carpet to sleep. The clock angrily ticks as Katya waits for Trixie to say something, anything. Oh god, everything had been going so great and then Katya had to fuck it up.

“That’s great,” Trixie says, face blank. “Great. Uh, I think I have to…my mom wants me to come home…”

“Right,” Katya says, blinking away tears.

Wow, this couldn’t have gone any worse.

“I’ll see you in class-”

“Wait, but- but how about we go over some of the Russian declensions? Or you show me the element symbols again-”

“See you in class,” Trixie repeats, gives her an awkward side hug, and then she’s gone. She leaves Katya shaken and alone. Katya feels like she’s been stripped naked, raw, and then left out in the rain. She curls up on the floor, cradling Lucky to her chest. Katya has already cried once today, and she hates that the tear count is this high.

Disappointment. That’s the word that keeps repeating in her head. Katya gets up, and, even though it’s too early to sleep, hides in bed. Katya buries her face into the pillow and screams. Louder. She can still see Trixie’s eyes, judging her.

Maybe it would have been better if Katya had gotten Laganja or Sasha fucking Belle for a lab partner. Then they could have just failed together. Katya wants to live in a world where she never met Trixie or opened up to her.

The kitten licks her hand, which is hanging over the edge of the bed.

Katya lifts Lucky up and cradles him to her chest.

“There are too many strays in this town,” Katya whispers. “You. Me. They left you in a box. They left me at the airport. I was six. How old are you, Lucky? They also told me I was ‘lucky’ to be taken in by such a nice, middle-class family. Why don’t I feel that way then? God, we’re both so alone, Lucky, so let’s…let’s be alone together? You and me. Just you and me against this world.”