#might fuck around and post this to aq and ao3 too just a thought

[phrynewrites]

oh hello there welcome aboard the taywhora clown bus!! could i request a little drabble pls? i will let u choose the au and trope but i would love to see the line “i think i would rather eat expired spam” bc it's hilarious and i can see either of them saying it 💖

Beep beep the bus just drove over the curb. Thank you for the request hun. I had so much fun writing these idiots who clearly don’t know shit about feelings. Enjoy!

AU: Roommates

Trope: Exes

Quote: “I think I would rather eat expired spam.” 

A’whora pushes the pedal of her sewing machine back just a nudge and stretches out her legs. She rolls the last couple stitches back and forth, then cuts the threads unceremoniously, resigning herself to completing the project sometime in the early morning, after some food and some beauty sleep. It wasn’t as though she was going to sleep much tonight anyway. 

She rolls her shoulders, easing the tightness gathering there and trailing down her lower back, pulling herself to her feet. As much as she loves the chair her and Tayce drunkenly rescued from the curb many months ago, hauled four flights up their cramped stairwell and shoved into A’whora’s office, the air light and crisp and giggling along with them; as much as she loved drinking Tesco chard, the bottle passed between them as she taught Tayce how to sew patches of scrap fabric into the chair to hold the bursting stuffing back, bandaging and sloppily kissing many a pricked finger, it still hurts after a while. It always does. 

So Awhora throws back the last of her cuppa and heads down the hallway, stopping at the smoke detector flush against the wall, getting on her tip-toes, tapping a cotted finger against the button until it gives a firm beep. She doesn’t want the apartment to burn down, partially because she couldn’t bear to see a dress she’s already put twenty hours of work into to go up in flames, partially because she doesn’t want a reason for the lease to break early, partially because fire kills people.

“What’s with all the candles?” A’whora asks, slipping the cot off of her finger and into the bin. She asks, though she already knows. It’s not as though Tayce has changed much, and Tayce was always one to set a scene for date nights, so the candles and stemless wine glasses aren’t out of place. She doesn’t give Tayce the chance to answer, choosing to jab at her instead. “Lavender doesn’t cover the smell of burnt rubber, babes.” 

Tayce rolls her eyes in return, still stirring frantically at the pot in front of her. “You’re not helpful, Whora,” she drawls, now jabbing at whatever's in that wretched pot with the back end of the wooden spoon, red sauce splattering across the stovetop, sticking in Tayce’s brow. “Fuck.” 

Awhora rounds the counter, grabbing at Tayce’s arm. “Slow down, Hannibal,” she chases with a laugh, taking the spoon from Tayce to stop the violent prodding and stop herself from wiping the sauce out of her brow. “Back it up and tell me what we’re doing here.” 

“What I think I’m doing here is massacring a piece of chicken until it’s cooked.” Tayce takes the spoon back, giving it a once over before tossing it into the already full sink. 

“Well…” A’whora grabs a fork and bumps Tayce’s hip away from the stove. “For starters, turn the burner off.” She brushes the pasta and sauce away from the chicken, holds it up in front of her face, and gives it a good once over. “And surprise...it’s burnt.” She then sticks it in Tayce’s face, watching intently as her eyes cross in front of the blackened chicken.

If Tayce’s bemused sigh—as though she didn’t know food could be overcooked—doesn’t do her in, then her pursed, plump lips surely do, like she’s brainstorming ways to unburn the chicken, or better yet, ways to have A’whora fix it like she always did, well, still does. 

“Just try it to be sure, yeah?” 

A’whora wrinkles her nose, returning the chicken to the pot and poking at it like it might grow legs and get on up. “I think I’d rather eat Spam, bloody canned meat, than this.” 

“At least this isn’t bloody, innit?” 

A’whora gives a playful shove. “You’re stupid,” she says, though she know’s she’s endeared by how quick Tayce thinks she is, how she jokes even when she’s fucked up, how A’whora wished she could do the same. She dodges Tayce’s return shove to grab the bin, nearly spilling over, and drags it to the stove. “You put the chicken in raw, or you cooked it first?” 

“You just put it in, let it cook with everything else, of course,” Tayce replies easily. “So we just take the chicken out and it’s a lovely Italian meal. I say I’m going vegetarian and she’s taken by my love of animals...” 

“You got to bin the whole thing.” A’whora interrupts, making a move for the pot, but Tayce grabs her wrist. 

“Just try some of the pasta. Maybe that’s done right.” 

“It’s not. It’s gonna give me food poisoning, babe.” A’whora knows it’s a touch blunt for the woman she knows can barely heat beans from a can, but is clearly trying, and that adding “babe” does nothing to soften it. She’d like to blame the feeling of Tayce’s slender fingers wrapped around her wrist on her snappishness, but she knows that makes her melt beyond her control if anything. 

Tayce scrapes the pot, muttering to the pasta “Suppose she thinks she’s a chef now. Right Gordon Ramsey but can’t make much more than a bowl of shreddies.” 

A’whora should be offended, but it’s true. And it’s Tayce. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I know what not to do, at least.” She clears her throat and tries again, releasing her wrist and holding out her hand for the fork. Tayce obliges. “You can’t put raw meat in cooked food. The chicken’s got germs and you’re overcooking the pasta and you’re boiling down the sauce to a paste.” She tries scraping a mushy noodle from the side of the pan. “That’s three reasons why I’d rather eat expired Spam, with my freshly manicured fingers, than try this, love.”

“Little old me got an upgrade to the fingers, huh.” After Tayce’s smirk falls into an indignant huff, she steals the fork back. “Lucky it’s not for you, dear.” She picks out the chicken and flicks it into the bin. 

“I’m just saying, you’re not getting fucked after feeding her that.” A’whora grabs the paper towel roll and wipes down the counter as best she can, knowing it’s going to need a good scrub later. From the sauce, of course.

Setting the fork down, Tayce tilts her head toward A’whora. “That’s not really your problem anymore,” she says, and A’whora almost thinks she’s imagining the lilting, coy tone, though she’s sure she’s not imagining the lightheadedness that comes along with it.

She swallows. “Well, I still genuinely care about you and your pussy, so I suggest you toss that in the bin and grab some takeaway.” She makes her way to the living room, tugging on a pair of boots before grabbing her wallet and phone off the coffee table. 

“And if you call in enough time, I might still be out to grab it for you.” A’whora grabs Tayce’s leather jacket off the hook—it’s the only one out here, and she’s not sure if she’s just too lazy to grab her own, or wants to send a message to whatever woman’s coming over—and shrugs it on, stuffing her hands in the pockets. “And if I’m still out, I might actually grab it for you.” She flashes a slick smile, nodding only once Tayce concedes and begins spooning the pasta into the bin. 

“That’s a love,” A’whora taunts, waving her phone a bit. “Let me know about the takeaway.” 

“Bitch,” Tayce mutters through a soft grin. 

A’whora opens the door, and says, into the falling night, “yours,” before heading out and locking up behind her.

[artificialqueens]

Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 5 (Lemon x the world) - Mermelada

A/n: Hej hej hej! I’m very late in posting this to AQ after Ao3, so please forgive me! I hope you all like *~* filler chapters *~* because there’s a couple of them coming up! I’ve already written the next couple of chapters, but PLEEEAAASSSEE let me know if you have any requests or suggestions! Namely, should I attempt to write smut or not lol! Thank you again for all your lovely words about the fic, I love you all massively <3 <3

Having not slept in her own bed for the last two nights, Lemon decided to take a well-earned evening for herself, partly because she was running out of excuses for her parents as to why she’d been out so much lately, and partly to give the various bruises and bite-marks on her body time to heal. With Gus the dog snuggled into her side, she waited for The Sims to load on her laptop as Chromatica blared from her phone. She pressed on its screen to check the time, and saw she had received a new text message.

Dr Rita <3 [16:45] “I hope you survived your walk of shame, mon petit citron! Thank you again for a great night and day :-) x”

Rita was amazing. She was the epitome of a dark horse: she was so kind and patient with Lemon during her panic crisis, as she had so adorably put it, and made her feel all the safety and love she needed all morning. Yet not long afterwards, after some lazy chatter which had made Lemon inexplicably horny, she was once again fucking her to within an inch of her life. Speaking two languages was far from the only thing she could do with her mouth. They had even gone for lunch together after round 2 – and round 2.5 in the shower – before reluctantly parting as Rita prepared for her nightshift at the hospital. It was over lunch where they both agreed that pursuing anything serious wouldn’t be worth it, but they would definitely like to work on a friendship. Lemon had, however, still managed to charm her way into borrowing a hoodie from the older woman, both of them secretly pleased that it gave them a reason to hang out again. She quickly sent off a reply, thanking her once again for her help that morning and wishing her luck for the long night ahead in kidneyland with her love interest from the ward. 

Looking back to her laptop, the loading bar appeared to have frozen. Rolling her eyes, she held down the device’s power button to restart it. The snoring lump beside her clearly wasn’t going to entertain her as she waited, so she bit the bullet and opened up her new favourite app.

She grinned upon seeing that her most recent message was from Kyne.

[16:20] Remember I told you about my roommate who works in a porn studio lol? She came home just now with a box of those custard tarts you were telling me about, they are so good!!! 🤤 You really do have the best taste 😘

That’s a lot to unpack, she laughed to herself, she’s persistent, fair play to her! Plus it turns out she actually WAS listening! I just hope they were clean… I’ll reply later. Now what about Kiara, eh Gus-bus? She was nice, let’s see what she’s said! 

[09:12] How was the party? 🙂 I hope it was tudo bem!!

Lemon and Kiara had continued chatting yesterday until Lemon had to leave for her date, a ‘family party’ being the first reasonable sounding thing that came to mind when having to end their conversation. She hated lying, she really did, but how acceptable was it really to tell one Tinder-match that you were going on a date with another Tinder-match?

[17:03] It went well, merci! But I was too hungover to function all day lol 🤯

[17:03] How has your day been? 😊

Right, who’s next? Two new matches and a message from Boa! Let’s see what she has to say about me spamming her before she blocks me. Clicking on the girl’s message from last night, however, Lemon was pleasantly surprised that her texting blunder wasn’t the end of her chances.

[20:55] Lololololololololol no YOU’RE fun!!!!

[20:55] Clock the good grammar

[20:55] So what’s a girl like you doing on an app like this?

[20:56] 🍆🍆🍆

Now that was a question Lemon still occasionally asked herself, and she didn’t even know if she had an answer. So the best she could do was be honest.

[17:07] Well I’m recently single so I’m just seeing what happens, really, a few dates here and there to get me back on my feet again! To quote the great Kelly Rowland, I am down for whatever 😉

[17:07] How about you?

She had, once again, been well and truly sucked into the Tinder vortex. Closing her laptop and placing it on her bedside table, she nuzzled her face into Gus’s head, the dog making no effort at all to reciprocate the sudden attention. Squishing a kiss to his head, she turned back to the app, and her new matches: Scarlett and Ilona. They had both matched at around the same time, making their chat windows sit neatly at the bottom of Lemon’s screen. Sending them both standard “Hey gorge! What’s up? 😊” messages, she went back to swiping through profiles, although within less than a minute, a reply from Scarlett flashed at the top of her screen. 

[17:13] Hey gorge! I’m doing much better now that I’m speaking to you 😉

[17:14] What’s up with you?

A bit of enthusiasm goes a long way, she smiled, maybe Scarlett is the one? Or maybe she’s too into me and I should be worried? Surely not!

[17:15] I’m glad I can help! I’m pretty good thanks, having a lazy night in tonight! Are you doing anything fun?

Lemon debated giving the girl more details of her night in, but she was worried about what she might think… She’s covered in tattoos and eats fire, for god’s sake, there is no way she likes Lady Gaga or The Sims. She probably listens to death metal and drives a motorbike and has a pet snake, I could never compete! 

Fortunately, Scarlett was charming and very easy to talk to, and the two exchanged details - both mundane and exciting - through quickly typed messages. She learned that the other blonde was a lawyer, but had gone to circus school at weekends throughout university - which explained a lot - and was currently in an open relationship with her girlfriend. Lemon had never been ‘the other woman’ before, but as long as she wasn’t hurting anyone, surely it’s not that bad! Eventually, though, one message made Lemon’s anxiety start to creep in again.

[17:57] So I know this probably seems WAY too fast, so don’t worry if you don’t want to

Time seemed to stand still between this message and the next one. What does she want to do that’s fast? Sex? That’s not that big a deal, it must be more than that. Unless she’s into super kinky shit, which wouldn’t surprise me, does she want to piss on me? Does she want her girlfriend to piss on me? Does she want me to be her fake girlfriend at her sister’s wedding where we have to share a bed before eventually realising we loved each other all along? Finally, right on cue, the follow-up arrived.

[17:59] It’s my birthday on Saturday and I’m having a party at my house before heading out on the town, it’ll hopefully just be a few friends, and it would be cool if you could make it 🥳

[18:00] You can bring a friend if you want! But again no pressure!!

Wow, that wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought. She started blankly at her phone, letting her heart rate settle back down to its normal speed. A party, cool. I can do that!

[18:02] You had me worried for a second there! But that sounds fun, I’ll be there! 😀

Exiting the app, she hastily composed a message to Jan. Jan loved parties, she had such a natural charisma which she exuded effortlessly whenever she entered a room. She was able to chat to anyone about anything, and Lemon was always responsible for getting her out of tricky situations on nights out where her natural friendliness had been mistaken for something else. She would be the perfect person to deflect any potential awkwardness that may occur at a Tinder-date-she’d-never-met-before’s birthday party. As she awaited Jan’s reply (Please please please say yes, Jan, you’re my only hope!), she checked on the app again, swiping through countless samey-looking profiles. Until she reached one that she’d definitely seen before.

Priyanka, 29

Within 10 miles

I already swiped for this girl, look! There’s her in her lengha, there she’s at pride… Oh she has new pictures now, how weird! Priyanka did indeed have an additional two photos on her profile which Lemon hadn’t seen before: a professional-looking black and white image of her face and torso, showing her dark waves flowing down her shoulders, and her eyes directly piercing Lemon’s soul; and finally, a picture of the dark-skinned girl wearing a blonde wig, cowboy hat, and appearing to be screaming into a microphone… I do like a Hannah Montana fantasy, get it girl!

Just like before, Lemon swiped Priyanka’s profile to the right, but unlike last time, the notification she’d been hoping for appeared straight away.

Congratulations! You have matched with Priyanka!

Buoyed by the excitement of matching with somebody so quickly - and someone so gorgeous - Lemon jumped straight off the bed and started dancing, ‘Rain on Me’ blaring beside her for the third time that evening. Even Gus seemed to pick up on the change of energy, running up and down the bed, wagging his tail merrily. As the pair danced, the familiar ‘ding’ of a new notification sounded through the room. And again.

Briefly pausing to pick up her phone, she saw the two messages she had received. Firstly, from Kiara.

[18:12] Unnggghhh work today was the worst, but I found a really cute Portuguese café on my walk home! I have eaten so many natas lol. We could go sometime if you want to? 🙂

Before replying (yes, obviously… I didn’t download Duolingo yesterday for nothing!), she went to check on the second message, which was from her recent match, Ilona.

[18:12] See you on Saturday bitch! xox

Well that seems ominous.