#the thing that made me realize this was the push scene from Barbie

[irlwakko]

okay I used to think the scene where CB played Heart and Soul for Beethoven was kind of cute but like. now that I think about it. cb that’s kind of embarrassing

[free-for-all-fics]

Ryan Gosling/Beach Ken and maybe Simu Liu/Tourist Ken prompts. I don’t know, maybe some of these can be interchangeable between which Ken you want. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these and I’d love to read it! 💕

1. Something similar to that scene in Toy Story 3: You’re a doll that’s one of Barbie’s friends. You’re not named Barbie, but have your own name. You don’t have a Dreamhouse like the Barbies but your place is cozy enough and you like it, having given it your own personal touch. You’ve had an unrequited love for Beach Ken but can’t compete with how perfect Stereotypical Barbie is. Besides, Ken is usually stuck to her side like glue. Wherever she goes, he goes. So you keep your feelings to yourself. You’re sure Ken only sees you as a friend anyway. But while Barbie is still in the real world, you’re horrified at Ken brainwashing all your friends as he turns Barbieland into Kendom.

With Barbie gone, he turns his sights towards you and keeps you for himself, wanting to make you either his bride-wife or long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend. The choice is yours, but you’re not leaving his sight until you decide. He keeps you confined in Barbie’s former bedroom of his now Mojo Dojo Casa House and tries to brainwash you too, but it doesn’t work because you already love him. You feel heartbroken and betrayed that he’d try to turn you into his mindless piece of arm candy or servant like he’s done to the other Barbies. You used to daydream about him finally noticing you and returning your feelings, about being wrapped up in his arms and kissed silly, but he’s becoming someone you don’t recognize and it scares you. You often lie awake while he sleeps soundly next to you in Barbie’s former bed with his arm either over your waist or behind your head. After who knows how long under house arrest, you break down and have a panic attack.

“I can’t take it here, Ken! I’ve always wanted to live together but not like this! You were wrong about me, about what I wanted. I do want to be with you, Ken, I do! Just please take me away from this, take me away!”

Your crying and hyperventilating makes him feel things he’s never experienced before. What is this pain in his chest? Is this…remorse? Guilt? He doesn’t like these feelings and wants them to go away. He wants to see you smile again. When was the last time you smiled? He’s horrified when he realizes he can’t remember. He holds you and caresses your hair as you sob, even as you try to struggle out from his grip and push him away or beat your hands on his chest in frustration. He’s begging you to breathe and cease your tears. As he tries to talk you down from your panic attack, he realizes what a mistake he’s made. Let him earn your forgiveness. Give him a chance to fix this. What can he do? Please, just tell him what to do to make it all better, to make you happy. All he’s wanted is love, he’s just been too foolish and focused on Barbie to see you were always there, already giving it to him. He was seeing things through tunnel vision but he can see more clearly now.

2. Write something for the Ken of your choosing with the Toy Story 3 quote, “She’s a Barbie doll, Ken, there’s a hundred million just like her!”

“Not to me there’s not.”

3. You’re a mermaid doll that Ken falls in love with. While he’s a land walker and you’re a sea princess, you make it work. He’s often carried you around bridal style to different places he wants you to see and lets you stay in his large swimming pool at his house or in the bathtub so you can spend more time together. Most often you meet at the beach during the day, but sometimes you’ve met on the beach at night after everyone else has gone to bed. You’ve spent many nights together around a nice campfire. Ken always tries to show off and impress you, and you’ve splashed him with your tail sometimes to be playful and flirty. You’ve shared kisses while going for swims together, gone on treasure hunts, etc.

4. You’re a human that Ken starts dating after the Kendom Versus Barbieland debacle. You never thought he was crazy unlike some other humans he’s met. You help him acclimate to the real world and stay by his side as he works to discover who he really is. He’s so in love with you he’s even taken you to Barbieland, regardless of what the suits at Mattel might have had to say about yet another human crossing over. What Ken was not expecting or in any way prepared for, however, was you getting sick. (Whether you’re sick while in Barbieland or the real world is up to you.) He’s unfamiliar with things like fever, headache, cough, etc. Nobody truly gets sick in Barbieland ever. They’re always cured within seconds. But this is the first time he’s seeing the full extent of sick symptoms on a human and it’s even more concerning since it’s all happening to you, the woman he loves.

He genuinely thinks you’re dying. He’s never witnessed death before and doesn’t really know what it is, but as beautiful as you are he can’t help but think you look like death itself and it terrifies him. Is it possible to die even in Barbieland? He doesn’t want to think about it. You ask him not to leave your side, but he thinks he has no other choice than to fetch Doctor Barbie. You do your best to calm him down as he begs you to hang on and wait for him until he returns. Don’t fall asleep just yet, he’s heard falling asleep can cause humans to slip into something called a coma. He’s not sure what that is either but it sounds really bad. Don’t succumb to your sickness and leave him while he’s gone. Please don’t slip away, he’ll be back with the doctor soon, he promises. He holds your hand. He kisses your forehead while he presses a cold cloth to it. Doctor Barbie uses everything at her disposal to make you feel better and Ken follows her instructions to a T. You assure Ken you’ll be fine, you just need medicine and lots of rest. Despite your many assurances, he’s still determined to watch over you 24/7 until you’re fully recovered.

5. You’re a doll and Ken dates you after working on discovering himself. What you’re not prepared for is the unexpected seasonal change in Barbieland as it turns to winter and becomes incredibly cold. It’s almost always summer here in Barbieland, but the Winter and Christmas Holiday Barbies are visiting and have brought the snow and cold with them. It’s fun for a while; You and the other Kens and Barbies experience snow for the first time and are shown how to make snow angels, snowmen, and have snowball fights.

But the cold eventually soaks through your clothes and seeps into your bones, becoming too much. So you and Ken retreat back inside and get the fireplace going. After you get changed out of your wet clothes, Ken wraps you in his mink fur coat when he realizes you’re still shivering. You’re so used to the summer sunshine weather in Barbieland that chilly winter is new for both of you, but maybe it’s not so bad if it means you and Ken can snuggle up together under the warmth of his coat and the many soft blankets while the fire in the fireplace burns. There was a special drink the Holiday Barbies gifted you too. Hot chocolate or cocoa you think it’s called?

6. You’re a Haunted Beauty Barbie like the Mistress of the Manor, Ghost Barbie, Vampire Barbie, or Zombie Barbie. Everyone else in Barbieland is either low-key or high-key scared of you and steers clear. Whenever you leave your haunted mansion or whatever you live in, none of the Barbies or Kens interact with you much if they can help it. They think you’ll put a curse on them or suck their blood or something, even though you’re actually harmless and really nice. It’s near impossible for you to make friends because of your off-putting appearance. You know you’re kinda scary looking with your gothic or Halloween style, but you don’t want to change it to suit their preference because you believe it’d be disingenuous to who you are. You’re actually kind of shy and introverted, usually sticking to reading books or making art. Beach Ken is the first person brave enough to approach you and talk to you like you’re normal. He’s nice to you and invites you to hang out with him, wanting to be your friend. Over time, you share your likes and interests with each other and your friendship becomes a romance.

Ken is happy to learn he was right about you and that you’re actually a very sweet person underneath your scary exterior. You introduce the other Kens and Barbies to things like Halloween and show them it doesn’t have to be scary, it can be cute and fun too! With things like pumpkin carving, dressing up, arts and crafts, candy, etc. One time you gave Ken a goth or Halloween makeover when he asked, since he was still trying to discover his identity at the time. He wasn’t sure if he identified with the goth or Halloween aesthetic, but he appreciated you taking the time to make him over. He really thought this new look was fun to try out! He wouldn’t mind if you gave him more makeovers in the future. You really are a pastel and goth couple and it’s adorable.

7. What if it was Ken who started having an existential crisis and dark thoughts in Barbieland because the human in the real world who was playing with his doll needed his help? He’s expecting a child, a young girl or boy with childhood trouble but is surprised when he instead realizes it’s you, an adult who’s Going Through It. When you finally meet him face to face, you can’t believe that he’s real, that he’s standing in front of you in the flesh. But only a Ken would probably wear outfits like what he has on now. It suits him though. You played with his Ken doll to escape reality for a bit and take a break from the stresses of being an adult, but it seems you’ve inadvertently poured your feelings onto him and they have seeped into his psyche. He’s experiencing new things like his eyes are leaking, he has feelings that there’s danger but no threat is in sight. What are these things and what do they mean? Crying? Anxiety? Seems like you don’t just need his help, he also needs yours.

While he’s in the real world, you take him shopping for some normal clothes, but he turns it into a modeling montage. You try to demonstrate how to eat and drink real food, but watching him reminds you of the dinner scene from Beauty and the Beast, etc. Shenanigans and Hijinks ensue and you fall in love along the way. After you show him your world, he takes you to his and gives you a grand tour of Barbieland (When Tourist Ken tries to cut in and give you the tour himself, your Ken tells him to back all the way off! You’re his girlfriend and he’s got this!) Your eyes light up in amazement much like how his did when he entered your world.

8. You’re either an equestrian in the real world or a Cowgirl Barbie with a ranch called Barbie’s Horse Adventures. Either way, you have pet horses and lots of experience working with them. You surprise Ken by bringing over 2 horses so you and he can go horseback riding. You teach him how to ride and he’s so ecstatic yet nervous because he wants to do it right. He wants the horses to like him. He feeds them treats and laughs at the feeling of their lips and big teeth against his hand. He pets their necks and helps you look after them. You go horseback riding either through beautiful forested trails or along the beach. It’s awfully romantic and Ken can’t help but lean forward in his saddle to kiss you while your horses are walking side by side. He apologizes afterwards, but you tell him you liked it. Your mutual love for horses is the starting point of a beautiful romance. He can’t let you do all the labor by yourself! He loves helping you around the ranch as a….What’s the word again? Groom? Are you married now!? Is he your groom-husband and you his bride-wife??

When your horse gets spooked and rears up on its hind legs and throws you off, Ken is immediately off his own horse and coming to your rescue. Are you ok?? Are you hurt? Let him look you over please. He’s not a doctor but he has some First Aid supplies in his saddle bag. When one of your mares gets pregnant, he’s so excited and wants to name the foal when they arrive. Both of you are by the mare’s side while she’s in labor and give her everything she needs. But for some reason, she’s suddenly not looking so well. You don't know what's wrong. It was moving along, then it just stopped.

“But her water broke, right?” Ken asks, petting your mare’s neck to comfort her.

“About ten minutes ago.”

“I think she's distracted.”

“What?”

“By that colt over there. She keeps eyeing him like she'd prefer a little privacy.” Ken is already back up on his feet, urging the colt away. “Shoo! Get out of here! Give poor mama horse a break!” He comes back to your mare’s side and resumes comforting her. “There, that's better, huh? Now you can push your little baby out with some dignity.”

“She's doing it. She's pushing. Yeah. Here we go. That's my good girl. Ok, here it comes. Well done, [horse’s name]! It's a girl/boy, just like we were hoping for, Ken! Look how cute she/he is. She's/He’s so sweet. Welcome to the world, little one. What do you want to name her/him?”

“I have to admit, I'm amazed how great you were with [mare’s name],” you later commend Ken while you’re both watching her with her new foal.

“What can I say? We totally bonded.”

Ken is so proud and encouraging when the foal tries to stand up on its long gangly legs and walk for the first hours of its life. That’s his horse, and he loves them already. They’re gonna grow big and strong under his care and he’s gonna train and ride them once they’re big enough. He’s a proud Horse Dad!

9. You’re a child doll in Barbieland, so you never age or grow up. You’re perpetually young both mentally and physically. Barbie and Ken are either like your big brother and sister or your adoptive parents. Tourist Ken is like the Cool Uncle who tries to get you to like him more than Beach Ken by bribing you with ice cream for breakfast and other fun things behind Beach Ken’s back. Beach Ken and Stereotypical Barbie are great at raising you like a sister or daughter, but there’s not really much of you to raise. You’ve never grown bigger or changed. Until the human in the real world who’s playing with you starts experiencing puberty and having the weird thoughts and feelings that go along with it.

You become self-aware that you’re not growing and have the same confusing thoughts and feelings. You’re full of questions and become self-conscious about your body. You’ve lived here for years, so why aren’t you an adult yet like most of the other Barbies and Kens? You never really thought about it before, but you want to grow up. When Barbie moves to the real world and becomes human, you go with her. When you experience growth for the first time, you’re both excited and scared as your body and personality go through constant changes. When you visit Barbieland, you’re so excited to show all the other Barbies and Kens how you’ve grown taller and updated your wardrobe, among other things.

10. You’re Stereotypical Barbie’s twin sister but you’re a Plain Jane Barbie. You’re like the Mary Bennet to her Elizabeth Bennet. You’re not conventionally pretty, you have hobbies but aren’t exactly talented at them, your social skills are weak and your flirting game/love life are nonexistent. Your sister is a girly girl and you’re a tomboy. In the real world, Mattel said something about sisters who are total opposites being more marketable and selling more toys. You have a huge crush on Beach Ken, maybe you even love him, but he’s been pining for your sister for so long you doubt he’s ever really noticed you. If there’s one thing you are good at, it’s being invisible.

He’s always tried to impress Barbie or keep her attention on him. You’re so clumsy and socially awkward in comparison to your perfect and popular sister, you can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen flat on your face or otherwise embarrassed yourself in front of the other Barbies and Kens when you’ve tried to fit in or stand out in a good way. Your attempts to embody your sister have all failed and your friend group is small or nonexistent in contrast to her large social circle. But you’re still worried about her when her feet become flat and she keeps falling over herself. You try to console her when she gets cellulite and thoughts of death. She’s always been there for you when you needed her emotional support, especially when you finally confided in her that you have a crush on someone. You weren’t brave enough to tell her who it is, but she was supportive and encouraged you to go for it anyway. She gives great pep talks, so now you’ll do the same for her.

When Ken tries to turn Barbieland into Kendom and kicks Barbie out of her Dreamhouse, he lets you stay. You’re torn between them and don’t know what to do. You’re stuck in the middle of a conflict between the man you love and the sister you love, and you don’t want to choose one side over the other. The situation is made even more uncomfortable when Ken realizes his patriarchal brainwashing didn’t work on you like it did the other Barbies. You didn’t go with him and your sister to the real world, so he eventually puts together that your immunity must be because you already love him. This is not how you wanted him to find out about your feelings, but there’s no going back now. Your secret is out in the open. What happens next?

11. You’re a doll and the kid who was playing with you leaves you unattended and at the mercy of their younger sibling(s). In the real world, the little kids color your hair a bright unnatural color with markers and/or cut it in a choppy, messy style. They scribble on your skin/face and mess with your clothes. So in Barbieland, your appearance reflects that. When Ken (and maybe Stereotypical Barbie) see what’s happened to you and what a mess you are, they come to your rescue and you’re given a luxurious makeover. Your boyfriend (and bestie Barbie) do your hair, makeup, wardrobe, etc. They give you lots of personal attention as they fix you up and get you back to your normal, beautiful self in no time.

[pluckysidekick]

I’m finally ready to talk about The Maiden’s Rage - if you’re interested in an in depth analysis, I’m planning a series of posts as there’s just too many amazing scenes and too much to cover. I’ll be going into detail on the subtext of scenes, callbacks to earlier seasons, behind the scenes clues, and discussion of the more ‘uncomfy’ bits as well (I’ll preface with a trigger warning) as there is so much to unpack.

Starting with George - she and Leah had an absolutely stellar episode. Seeing George come into her own, her confidence in her abilities, her maturity in her relationship with Nick, her realization that her mentor had failed her, and then her determination to understand the mystery of the case and ultimately the town water supply, from beginning to end was breathtaking. Also, she looked amazing in every fit. Kudos to Leah and to the costume dept!

Speaking of kudos, the visuals in this whole episode are outstanding. Nancy and Ace, as George so astutely puts it, start out together but not too together, mirroring the tension between them as they navigate this next stage of their relationship. We left off Episode 1 where Ace ran to Icarus Hall (swoon), leading to Nancy finally confessing they’re cursed. We’ve jumped to the next day (presumably) and Nancy doesn’t want to risk telling Ace anything else, believing that it won’t make a difference, while Ace still wants to know everything (not the last time he says it).

Ace’s admitting he went to Bess for moral support is something we’ll see more of in the episode - it’s a good thing he has his Platanchor because he’s in for a rough ride. Nancy’s teary “You will die” reminds me of the S3 finale opening scene, “I won’t let him die.” In both cases she believes she’s doing the right thing - she’s already lost so many people she loves. The difference now is Ace is finally clued into what’s going on and doesn’t accept her keeping things from him.

Ace’s journey from the 213 Claw deck scene where Nancy successfully pushes him away, “Not my place to say,” and here, where he relentlessly pushes her for the truth, “What aren’t you telling me?” shows how far he’s come.

But Nancy continues to “make the call” and shut him out, not unlike S3’s Piper Beach episode when she overrides Bess’s opinion. Nancy’s tendency to dismiss the feelings and opinions of those closest to her when she’s under pressure is already in full force, well before the poisoned water begins to affect her behavior.

Ace’s expression reminds me of the Amanda breakup scene in 306 - the mixture of anger, frustration, and sadness about someone he loves is written all over his face.

As a break from the turmoil, I loved the introduction of Jade, and can’t wait to see how their and Nick’s relationship progresses. Nick and Bess have a rare but hilarious scene together, with a chance to gently poke fun at Nick’s (and Tunji’s) lack of social media savvy. I have to agree with George that he could lose the hat.

Back in the locker room, the fight continues with Ace getting increasingly angry that Nancy’s holding out on him, pleading for her to let him in because “I’m in this curse too,” while Nancy is “trying to be strong.” Oh, Nancy. Visually it evokes Nancy and Ace’s S1 fight in 107, this time with Ace coming down the stairs to confront Nancy instead of the other way around.

This feels like it could become a theme for them, with a struggle between Nancy’s desire to keep Ace safe at the cost of his autonomy. I’m glad they’re exploring this, even though it’s difficult to see them fight when all we want to do is bang them together like Barbies and make them kiss already.

With the entrance of Tristan, things get even more awkward, Ace furious but begrudgingly admiring Tristan’s ‘solid’ boat name, Jolene, the famous ‘other’ woman. Tristan (that hussy) flirts with Nancy shamelessly, but doesn’t know what to make of Ace’s instant classic line:

“I made it this morning.” 💀 I love him so much. Visually Tristan starts out in the middle (just like Ace between Nancy and her love interests in past seasons), but later the perspective changes with Ace in the middle and with his back to us. This foreshadowing of the inevitable love triangle is making me sad 😔 .

Back to the mystery, Nancy and Ace respond to George’s call for help to investigate Judge Abbott’s strange behavior before his heart attack. Nancy assures George “we’ll figure it out, that’s what we do.” Ace’s silent response is absolutely devastating. His expression and body language scream, “You’re willing to figure things out for George, why not for us?”

The supernatural poison is about to turn Nancy into Bro-Nancy, but I’m out of room and I have a lot more screencaps. This was literally just the first seven minutes (and I skipped Bess and Addy, but promise to come back to them).

I will probably not shut up about it every time I talk about this episode, but Alex is killing it in every scene, every shot. Kennedy’s incredible turn in this episode is epic, and I can’t wait to dig in next time. But this in many ways Ace’s episode - the range of emotion is so effectively portrayed, often purely with body language and facial expressions. Ace may not be the Maiden, but he has some serious but controlled rage (justified IMO) as he finally advocates for himself and the life he wants with Nancy.

‘Til next time, Drewds!

UPDATE: Part 2 and Part 3

[please-someone-give-me-love]

Well, about Barbie...

I think it was a good movie, but just nothing more, it didn't leave me with anything I didn't know? I don't know, because I really like everything but at the same time I just enjoyed in an okey level.

My favorite things were:

Barbie existencial crisis.

I feel the whole arc of Barbie feeling human was really beautiful, Barbie was able to feel human in every way you could think, in both, positive and negative ways because there's not a middle term.

Her scenes crying feeling the emotions, thinking about the death and questioning her body was really great.

Ken's character arc

For people hating him, I did really understand his character a lot and (please don't call me pick me), even I feel a little relatable to some of his questions.

I think a lot of people just kinda ignored his character arc in order to reduce the morality and just put a good vs bad debate but they don't realize that Ken wasn't just like that since the beginning, he felt frustrated for living in a world were his presence was dismished and reduced to look for a female approbation, the same with the patriarchy does with the woman, Ken was living in the same way.

He didn't know who he was because they have always assume they should be accesories and nothing more, without personality or interests.

When he came to the real world, he got so excited to see him being respected and taking account that he started doing the same in resentment towards the barbie.

I think that's why Barbie apologize to Ken (even that I also think Ken should apologize as well) but she realize that Ken wouldn't do that if they just took him account since the beggining.

Matriarchy vs Patriarchy

Talking about the same, I like the way the movie told us that none of these systems are good or healthy. It pushed both of the genders of certain expectations that ended up hurting everyone.

I don't understand how some men were so upset when it's clearly that the movie talks about both of these system.

In both system you are reducing the other gender ignoring their thoughts, feelings and persona, which create social resentment and will end up bad.

For the matriarchy, it pushes to the Barbies being 24/7 perfect.

For the patriarchy, it pushes the Kens to be emotional represses.

That's what the movie is mocking as well, the toxic masculinity due to trying to always win in the system they create.

Another thing that I didn't understand why men were so upset. The movie made clear that you need habilities and capacities to do things, it's not just enough with being men, you need to study, work and effort as well but it's their own system that benefits them more for doing the same thing that women do as well.

The originality in direction.

I really liked the whole direction of the movie, the narrator, the way some jokes were complementate by the direction as well like that mattel advertisment about barbie beinf depressed, the transition and toy style.

I found it pretty great and new to see and also realky funny.

The music.

Well, there's nothing more to say, pretty good in everything. My favorite was What I was made for by Billie Eillish, grea song and great timing.

The good and bad in Barbie.

I really like the way aknowledge both senses, since the part of creating stereotypes, consumism and parody that a feminist doll is directed by a bunch of white men was a great and brave step but also to the part of inpiring millions of kid to be what they want to be no matter what other said.

Now the things I wasn't a big fan.

I wish Barbie would stayed more in the real world.

I feel they could use the opportunity to talk more about the social issues aside from the parodies or the speeches. Like the initial harrasment that Barbie had to went through was really fast and for them talking about this topic leave me with a feeling that the movie should take itself a more serious cases and explored more the world.

The scene when the mom gave her speech to Barbie and they started taking every Barbie with them and giving them little speech to recover them. I think they could do better if the mom just did a whole big speech to the whole Barbieland and they wake themeselves up and started supporting and turning against the kens by their own, I think it would mean that even with men around us, that doesn't mean we can't have a personality with ideas and thoughts and it would gave a stronger empowerment scene.

Ken's lack of apology, he also had to apology.

I feel they explored the topics in a really superficial way, not only that but mostly of the characters with tje exception of Ken and Barbie does not have a character arc, especially the mother and daighter, I think they could explore more their character and they did a little with the mother but not with the daughter.

Now, my personal opinion.

My family told me I was expecting too much nd maybe they were right because the whole debate and publicity, I was expecting more. It's not a perfect movie but it's not bad either.

At the beggining I thought we were going to talk about a sexual harrasment case were the kid modificate her Barbie because of that and barbie crying in sadness understanding those feelings was something really makes me feel sad.

Obviously that didn't end up like that but i create false expectations from a couple of scenes so that was my fault lol hahaha

About the white feminist, I am gonna try to just ignored because it's Barbie and Mattel what can we expect in a movie about a doll but I just want people to stop putting it as a good thing. POC and minorities shouldn't have to be a minimun topic to talk and explored in a little way, we shouldn't have to be conformed with so few okay?

I am gonna ignored but I am not forgetting that some of these women that right now are taking about sorority and girls supporting girl, before they were attacking another POC women just because they dislike their races and bodyshamed other women in the same way.

Criticism, validation of opinions and sorority.

I get a lot of men are basically stupid and making stupid mysogistic comments but some criticsm are valid, Barbie is not a perfect movie, accept criticism, especially if another women is making it.

Because I had seen people attacking anyone, including woman, that said that the movie is not perfect and that's literally the completely opposite meaning of the movie.

How do you think y'all are looking like when you tell another women they didn't understand the movie and that their opinions and experiences are invalid because they just didn't like a movie?

You are doing the same shit the men do when they are mansplaining, so please stop doing it and respect people's thoughts.

I did understand the movie, I did feel related in some aspects as well, but that doesn't mean that define my personal taste and opinion, so please don't reduce me for that.

[omgfloofy]

State of the Fic: dal segno al coda

For the month of August, I made it my goal to hit 200k words across all three parts of dal segno al coda, the two preview fics, and the "Meanwhile, Elsewhere..." side stories to go alongside it.

I pulled it off yesterday! Yet I somehow feel like there's so much to do still. It's crazy. You'd think with 200k words, that there would be a lot done, but I mapped out all the chapters in a spreadsheet so I can have an 'at a glance' look at my progress, and I still have so much to write.

I'm thankful to having outlined the whole story already, though. So I know where I'm going with everything.

If you had a chance to read it, We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming is the first of two preview stories for the whole fic. This takes place very late in the story, and there are a ton of references to events across all three parts of dal segno al coda in it.

I have a lot of progress done with Date Night, the next of the preview shorts. Where as We Interrupt is a bit intense, I hope that Date Night is just more fun and fluff, since it's stuff that couldn't be put into the main story and fit the narrative. Date Night should also be the first time the formatting and storytelling methods of the main story should be in play, whereas We Interrupt was more like something you'd read in the Meanwhile, Elsewhere... sidestories.

Nevertheless, I have an idea of where I stand on things. I might slow down a little just to get a breather on things before November, because I'd like to throw dal segno al coda back into NaNoWriMo again this year and see where I end up after that 50k push is done.

A sample from part 2 with Noctis and Luna is below the cut. This is, of course, unfinished and may change in the editing process, as always.

One of my favorite things of writing this has been Luna. Looking at stuff with her in Kingsglaive and in Dawn of the Future made me realize that she's a bundle of trouble wrapped in fanciful clothing, and tied off with a bow of prim and proper behavior. It's a LOT of fun to play with in some scenes, and what's even more delightful, is that Noctis was absolutely not been prepared to come face-first with some of these moments.

I also can't unsee the "Barbie Mugshot" meme now with Noctis and Luna because of this scene.

I'll let you all try and figure out why they were arrested in the first place and where they are for it, though. :D

--------

Noctis knew they were being held long enough for their identities to be figured out. He settled down on the bench and set his head in his hands. They were important enough that if anyone figured out who they were - which was possible with a little bit of work - everything about this plan would fall apart.

"Are you okay, Noctis?" Luna's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up without any correction to his terrible, slouched posture.

Noctis lied, "Yeah. I'm fine." Whether she believed it or not, Luna simply set a hand on his back. He found that the gesture was surprisingly soothing, somehow.

Eventually, the silence between the two was broken as Luna couldn't contain her laughter. "I... have never had a mugshot taken before."

This got Noctis to sit up suddenly and he looked at her with his head tilted. "...you wanted to get a mugshot taken?"

"No, not really." Luna leaned back against the wall. She was seated next to Noctis on the bench. "It was just kind of..." A pause. "Neat?" She gave him a faint smile.

"Neat." Noctis repeated. He wasn't quite sure how to take this.

She rolled her eyes a touch and shrugged. "It is not every day that someone like us is arrested." A pause. "Like a normal person." Luna somehow sounded excited at this.

"Normal people don't get arrested," Noct complained. He might have even sounded like he was whining. Somehow, something in either his response or tone was funny enough to get another laugh from Luna. All he could do was give her a side-eye for it.

Clearly, she didn't care. "They certainly do," As Luna stood up, she patted Noct's head lightly before she walked to the bars. She clamped her hands onto them and tried to peek around the corner from them.

"A few years ago," Noctis didn't have a chance to say anything before she continued. "I read this book called The Message of the Haunted Bridge where the heroine, Faye, got a little too close to the secret, but the villain actually had a connection to the police. So to keep her out of the way long enough for his dastardly plan to kick off, he had them arrest her."

Luna turned around and leaned against the bars, still grinning. "I feel a little like her at this moment."

Noctis sat up, finally. "Except there is no villain with a dastardly plan. We just got caught somewhere we shouldn't have been."

"Doing," Luna added with a finger point. "Heroic deeds."

She was so confident with her response that Noctis just tilted his head back and bumped it against the wall. He couldn't believe he was hearing this. However, at the same time, he remembered reading her messages in the journal, about how lonely she was and that there was little to do outside of her duties as Oracle while she was in her golden cage.

He may have been a little confused at all of this, but at the same time, he couldn't help but find it adorable.

When Noctis mentally tuned back in, he realized that Luna was now talking about how Faye escaped her cell. With a sigh, he pushed himself up off the bench. She shouldn't keep talking like this when someone could come in at any point and catch them.

In fact, as Noctis walked up to Luna, she had already pulled a hair pin free from her braid. She quickly bent it until it broke into two pieces and then started to reshape one of the halves.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to pick the lock and get us out of here."

Noctis tilted his head. "You're going to what?" He wasn't sure he heard that right.

Luna didn't seem bothered by this at all. "Ravus taught me how when we were little."

"He taught you how to pick a lock." Noctis repeated, incredulously.

"He certainly did." Luna didn't look up as she answered, and instead jammed the half of the pin into the lock.

[sloshed-cinema]

To Die For (1995)

Maybe when David Cronenberg stops your car and tells you to follow him, don’t do it. Nothing good can come of it. Then again, bad things happening to her rather than someone else isn’t exactly part of Suzanne Stone-Maretto’s mental calculus. The world revolves around her, and she is a master manipulator. Gus Van Sant’s acerbic satire speed-runs the Pamela Smart story as Suzanne grooms and uses a trio of hapless teens to kill her husband once she realizes their dreams don’t align. She was made for the television screen, after all, and being on TV makes you a worthwhile person because others can see you. You don’t matter if you lead a private life. As late-night weather reports start to scratch this itch, the flood gates are opened for Suzanne. There’s nowhere to go but up, though in all likelihood her trajectory would be a little more of a flat line beyond the small town scene. She shows her hand constantly, revealing through stolen phrases and dinner mains that rather than coming up with her own personality and drive, she is a collage of influences from others. To Die For does anticipate dirty executives like Weinstein or Murdoch, showing that this has been a problem for quite some time, but took people a long while to be able to bring this open secret out of the shadows. Victimized initially at the Florida conference, Suzanne nevertheless turns around and repays in kind the impressionable James. As her scheme unravels, that narcissism persists, causing her to believe she’s shielded from accountability by a layer of uncertainty in proving her connections to the killing. But what the film has to embellish the events which inspired it is some creative panache in the Maretto family’s mob connections. Janice Maretto’s gut might have been right about Suzanne, but she does get the satisfaction of skating on her grave in the end.

To Die For picks up on its principal antagonist’s media obsession, building it into the ethos of the film’s visual language. Suzanne is happiest when there’s a layer of video grain over her wide-eyed face, and she gets to control the narrative in the form of her white-walled confessional clips. Or at least she gets to try to control it. Others have their say in interviews, creating the feeling of a primetime crime special report or a tabloid. Television shapes James’ fantasies about the object of his desires, hearing Suzanne addressing him directly over the airwaves. But, as she notes, in life’s grand irony, Lydia is the one who achieves greater fame: as she concludes her interview, the frame divides exponentially, recreating likeness her over and again as her story reaches so many more TV sets than Suzanne by herself was able to achieve.

Noticing a Latin market title for the film, Todo por un sueño, made me think about the title itself. Film titles, especially in this era of single-word nouns being passed off as clever or unique when it’s just BARBIE or OPPENHEIMER, are currency. How do you refer to the entire experience of a film? Its title. But a title in and of itself also bears significance. What choices were made in this regard? Certainly marketing plays a role, but directors and creatives can still hold sway sometimes. To Die For is a fun pun, doubling Suzanne’s sex appeal to her victims with a common phrase. The Spanish language title pushes it even further into explicitly Joaquin Phoenix’ character’s experience and perspective, at least when doubled with a lurid image of Nicole Kidman. Suzanne is single-handedly responsible for her own fate, but in objectifying herself or rendering herself a reward in steps, she decentralizes the story from herself through the lens of the title. In both cases, the text can be a bit of a double entendre, empowering or sidelining our megalomaniac. But in a way, the title choice is the ultimate insult to her legacy.

THE RULES

PICK ONE

Select either MARETTO or STONE and sip whenever they're named.

SIP

A newspaper headline appears onscreen.

Someone names a public figure.

A new person is interviewed for the first time.

BIG DRINK

Suzanne starts dancing.

"Teens Speak Out"

[little-dandelionn]

the barbie movie was incredible

no because you guys (the literal 0 people who follow me) don't understand how much i loved this movie. it's genuinely one of the best movies i've seen in years, and here's why.

for one, it confronts the fact that patriarchy is not beneficial for men nor women, and in fact, it actually harms both. like ken says in the movie, he quickly lost interest when he figured out it wasn't about horses. but for real, i think ken lost interest because he realized that being "in charge" wasn't what made him happy. being an accessory to barbie didn't make him happy either, but figuring out that neither of these things fulfilled him pushed him into the uncomfortable unknown, a place everyone hates. i like how we didn't 100% see what ended up happening with ken, what he decided to go with his life, his purpose. i think it makes it feel more real and relatable because in reality, a journey to self-discovery is a long one. it's not something that can be resolved in a 2-hour time frame, and not showing how his story ends was an incredibly smart choice by greta gerwig, because really, our stories never really end, you know what i mean?

for women, i think it's quite obvious how the patriarchy doesn't benefit/harms them. of course, women have been oppressed in a much more obvious way than men have for centuries. but i think seeing barbie enter a world where she isn't the "most important" or whatever (i'm not really sure how to describe it, kinda like the opposite of patriarchy i guess) was really cool because we get to see how the realization of treatment towards women in today's society might look from an adult's point of view who's just learning about it, rather than someone who's grown up experiencing it. seeing someone experience it where it wasn't the norm for them was a really interesting perspective to see, something we don't often get to witness in films. this point also goes for ken realizing the privilege he has in the real world, it was really cool to see how that sort of realization would affect someone who's been treated as an accessory their whole lives.

i thought sasha's initial confrontation with barbie was a very bold, but good, choice. seeing a young teenage girl clearly acknowledge the issues in our society that affect women and young girls was really refreshing because we don't often see things like that addressed in highly anticipated movies. just generally acknowledging the unrealistic beauty standards that are set for women in our current society was a huge step and i admire greta gerwig for including that in the movie. she could have easily just made it so sasha made a vague comment about it, but i love that she decided to just go full throttle with it and acknowledge it for what it truly is. i know that from an outsider's view who's maybe only seen some clips, it looks like that's a huge part of the movie, but realistically, the confrontation of unrealistic beauty standards was actually a very minuscule part of the movie, really only included to help barbie realize that she isn't doing what she thought she was for young girls, which is why i commend greta gerwig for including it. she could have replaced that bit with something having to do with unfair wages and how people still refuse to hire women for certain jobs purely because of their gender. but she didn't.

i also absolutely loved how ruth handler made an appearance as a character in the movie, mostly just because i liked seeing how the perspective of the creator of barbie might have looked had she been alive and really put into this situation.

a couple small details i thought were nice:

at the beginning of the movie, we see sasha wearing full dark gray/black/monochrome clothes, and then in the last scene we see her wearing a pink shirt.

i thought barbie going by the name barbara handler at the end of the movie was a really cute detail. it kinda makes me feel like ruth handler sees this barbie as her own daughter (which makes sense because she literally named barbie after her daughter lmao).

some things i wish had shown up in the movie:

i do wish that they had used ken's character to at least show a little bit of how unrealistic beauty standards for men can affect them, but then again that wasn't particularly the point of the movie so i'm not mad about it. i would love to see a movie sometime in the future, just any movie, confronting those societal pressures, because i feel like not many people talk about how societal expectations for men can affect them and translate into toxic masculinity.

i would have loved to see a bit more of a discussion about beauty standards for women, but again that wasn't the point of the movie so i'm okay with the fact that there wasn't more discussion about it. i still love that there was any discussion at all about it though, so there's that.

[hon1eblog]

Life in Plastic: Growing up as a Barbie Girl in the Real World

“There’s nothing stronger than the connection between a girl and the doll world she made up in her head.” - Me, 2023

         Barbies were a lonely girl’s favorite toy. I only played Barbies with one particular friend because we had a mutual understanding– she played with her dolls, I played with mine. It was all made up on the spot, but we had time to plan out bigger events and postpone things like weddings until the next time we saw each other. Neither of us would ever make each other do something out of character. It was like parallel play, but with a higher level of awareness. This is not to say if you didn’t do this you weren’t doing it right; there’s no right way to play. In fact, I’ve always thought I had done it wrong. I put too much time into my imagination, to the point where I’d obsessively think about my other worlds, taking me from the real one. If that sounds strange or scary to you, then this might not be the essay for you.

Barbies were my introduction to the conscious mind. It sounds dramatic, but I truly believe I became sentient when I was able to project my thoughts and feelings onto a piece of plastic and recognize that they were still mine. The dolls held my secrets to my universe, they spoke a language only I knew. The older I got, the more complex my playtime became and at some point I realized I wasn’t just playing, I was creating a storyline, a universe with laws and constraints[1]. My dolls had consistent characteristics; they evolved from husks into flesh cut from my own skin. Most were heavily inspired from movies and TV show characters, but soon took on a new shape. I had over fifty Barbies at one point and each had a name, a purpose, and a home in a giant plastic bucket. On very rare occasions were Barbies retconned, donated, or thrown out after being mauled to pieces by my dog. An arm or leg missing never bothered me much, as long as I could keep the story pushing. I was also only vaguely aware of what death and loss felt like; meaning, I didn't know how to play that out so it just never happened ‘on screen’. But I was so deeply attached that when it got taken away from me, I mourned the loss of the little girl in me. My childhood had been seized from me before I was ready to let go. Would I ever have been ready to let go? I played with them up until around 14, despite the subtle comments from my grandmother that I “needed friends my own age”. I had friends my own age, but they weren’t like me. They didn’t understand me, but Barbies could because they were me and I was them. I was always Barbie and Barbie was always me.

But this wasn’t just a long, on-going TV show I was producing in my head; it was a way for me to process things. I could act out scenes with dolls and not be misunderstood because I was in control of the narrative. I didn’t have to explain myself to my dolls; they knew what I meant the first time. And I knew who I was by looking at them— who they had become over the years. How their characters changed, how their hair length changed, how their clothing changed, how they were broken and put back together with tape. The stories got sadder, deeper, and harder to explain to even to my closest friend[2]They grew with me because they were an extension of me. I was always Barbie and Barbie was always me.

I was an existential kid. This is not meant to glorify it, I am simply stating what is true. I started dreading my birthday after I turned ten when I realized I would now always be in the double digits and probably wouldn’t reach the triple digits. I cried on my birthdays. I cried when I graduated elementary school. I cried when I graduated middle school. I cried when I graduated High school. I weeped when I graduated college. Growing older has always felt like a punishment. Each year had more growing pains than the last. Before I even knew women had an expiration date, I was terrified of running out of time.

I never felt like I was enough. I was never the best at anything. I was never known for anything. Maybe I was a product of my time, but with every passing year there was less of a chance of me becoming the “dancer/singer/archer/artist/respectable human that’s ONLY __ years old!” The older you get, the less impressive that statement becomes. I missed my window of opportunity to become a child prodigy. You don’t get on The Ellen Show by doing something that’s typical for your age. You don’t win America’s Got Talent by being ‘kind of okay’ at something. What value do I have if I’m just average? If I am just a background character in my own life, why should I celebrate my birthday? Why should I celebrate being a girl? Being a woman, of all things?

For a very long time I didn’t feel like I had a proper girlhood because I wasn’t into makeup, I wasn’t into boys, so I didn’t feel connected to my straight friends on the level they were (or at least pretended to be). I felt like I was doing something wrong or was missing something very obvious. Like everyone was a part of this secret club where they understood what being a girl meant. I only knew what being a girl meant in relation to what not being a girl meant— it meant being different from my brothers but not quite like my mom either. It meant being made from dust and ribs, being made to suffer for sins I had no part in committing. It meant accepting that as the truth and not complaining because that’s just how things are and I should be so lucky to even be allowed to bleed. Being a woman meant being in pain, being lonely, and not being able to talk about it. I want to talk about it.

But girls don’t want to talk about that at sleepovers. They want to talk about field hockey. They wanted to talk about boys that never even looked at me, never mind knew my name. They wanted to sing songs I didn’t know the words to by bands I didn’t know. They wanted to watch TV shows I wasn’t allowed to watch in my Catholic household. They talked about feelings that I couldn’t feel because I was made of plastic. But I could be anyone because I was no one, so I smiled and nodded along.

I knew at a very young age I was different, but not in the cool way that gets you famous. In the isolating way that makes you feel like none of your friends understand you. As a young kid I had lots of different friend groups because I could adapt and mold myself to blend in. I tried a lot of different hobbies; horseback riding, gymnastics, softball, band, drawing. I could be anyone I wanted because I was nobody. I remember sitting with my counselor when I was in middle school and telling her I didn’t know how to make friends because I didn’t know who I was. The most useless phrase in existence–“just be yourself!” isn’t helpful when you don’t know who you are or who you want to be. I’ve walked around my whole life feeling like a fraud, like a caricature of a real person, a star in The Truman Show. I wasn’t real, and none of my friends were. Everything they knew about me was lies I sold them. Every conversation was one I rehearsed in my head hours before. I was made of plastic, my body hollowed out to be filled with whatever I could find to fill the cavity. I was entirely inhuman, only an alien pretending to be one of them. I was lonely and homesick for a place that didn’t exist. I was always Barbie and Barbie was always me.

Throughout my life, I have made art pieces depicting myself as anything but human because that's how I felt.[3] In high school I saw myself as my mental illness, as the representation of everything I would never become. I was spiteful, disenchanted, and convinced that I was disgraced by those closest to me. I destroyed everything I touched— ripping it apart with my hands so I could feel it between my fingers, because I needed to hold it to know it was real and not just in my head. I called myself a monster, a sinner, a caged tiger that would kill if given the chance. I could be anyone because I was no one, so I destroyed myself from the inside.

I cried watching Barbie because I saw myself over and over again in the faces of the people around me. The faces of the women around me who saw themselves in Barbie. Are we all so lost in this world that we need to be told that it’s okay to not know who you are? How badly have we been broken that we can’t imagine a world where we don't have to worry about aging, running out of time, deciding our careers? Are we destined to always feel this lost and disconnected from each other? Have I gone through life believing everyone else knew who they were when really they were faking it just as much as I was? Have they always been Barbie, too?

I left that theater knowing my brother did not feel the way I did. I know a lot of people don’t feel the way I do, and I wish I could be like them. I can never justify my desire to return to the earth and become dust and bones again; maybe in my truest form I’ll finally understand what it’s like to be a woman. Maybe I’ll finally know what the world expects of me. Maybe I’ll speak their language and know what they’re feeling. I’ll know the songs they sing, and the games they play, and I’ll be able to celebrate being a woman, celebrate my birthday without my tears putting out the candles. Maybe I’ll become human— not a monster, a sinner, or a caged tiger.

[1] I’d joke about being the God of my dolls, but my mom would never approve of the blasphemy. I hope she reads this and doesn’t blame herself for not playing with me. I hope she reads this and finally understands why I cried so hard and for so long when she gave away all my Barbies that day I got too sick to help run the yard sale. I thought maybe it was her way of punishing me for saying I would never have a daughter to pass them down to. I forgive you, but I still needed to write this. I still need people to know I am human underneath it all.

[2] Everyone wants a doll that looks like them. Maybe that’s why I used red and pink markers to draw lines on my doll’s legs. I don’t know how to explain that to people without them becoming scared of me. I was only 13.

[3] I still feel this way sometimes, but I don’t hate myself for it anymore. I think I am misunderstood in the way that tall people were mistaken for giants in the Bible, or hallucinations were mistaken for visions from God.

[youarejesting]

Hope In The Sheets.8

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 2.9k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Braxton hicks, Reader thinks she is being followed (but is mistaken), and a love making scene very short and sweet.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

With your final month of pregnancy approaching you were finally ready to take your maternity leave. Deciding to continue working for as long as you could to save some money. The boss was getting super weird but you were holding your tongue and making up excuses to leave his presence.

Your last day was a little extravagant with cake and a card signed by your colleagues. The boss gave you a bouquet of flowers, which you graciously accepted as it was your last day. Everyone took photos and your boss awkwardly pulled you close, his hand resting on your belly.

Irritation growing, you wanted nothing more than to push his hand away and leave. The scent of his cologne made you feel a little sick and you were unbelievably sweaty. Excusing yourself to the safety of the women's bathroom you splashed your neck with some cool water. 

Calling Jimin you whispered, “I need you to come pick me up, the boss is being weird again.”

“I am near by, give me a few minutes I will get you,” Jimin’s sweet voice rang like tiny chimes through the phone.

You waited another couple of minutes and heard your name called from the hall, “Y/n?, are you okay in there?” It was your creepy boss.

“Sorry, I am just having a hot flash so I am splashing water on my neck,” You laughed, trying to appear casual and not cause him any reason to suspect you are in distress as you would bet he would barge in otherwise, “I will be out soon.”

Your phone chimed.

[Jimin: We are in the elevator grab your things for a quick escape.]

Curious as to who he was referring to as ‘we’ but not questioning it, he was right you should get ready to leave as quickly as possible. Heading out to the gathering of your colleagues, you smiled fanning yourself.

“Here is some ice water,” One of the women smiled, “I remember when I was pregnant it was unbearably hot.”

“Thanks,” You took a drink and sighed happily at the cool liquid, standing in front of your bag, the flowers and card. The elevator doors opened to reveal a well dressed Jimin and a rather handsome man you recognized from the bar. Jungkook’s best friend, Taehyung was it? You smiled at the two as they smiled greeting everyone. “Hello, we are Y/n’s friends, I'm Jimin and this is Taehyung. We have come to pick her up.” Jimin looked around the room and his eyes lit up, “wow you are all so nice a party and everything.” 

Jimin charmed the room easily and Taehyung wasn’t doing too badly either as he took the flowers and your bag. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Ah yes, I wouldn’t mind going home for a rest,” allowing the two young men to lead you towards the elevator, “Goodbye, I will hopefully see you when I am back from leave.”

They all waved and wished you good luck, and you didn’t miss the disappointed look on your boss' face. Your shoulders slumped as you leaned against the wall of the elevator, “I am so tired.”

“We will get you home soon,” Jimin smiled, rubbing your back and pulling you into a hug.

“Should we reschedule?” Taehyung said, “Or, I can um pay again, if you don’t mind waiting for a few weeks, I will save up enough money for another date.”

Jimin was at a loss for words. You knew he didn’t know what to say and you smiled, “Hey no, I will be home soon, just drop me off and go back to Jimin’s, he has a cinema room and you can order in and watch movies.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Jimin smiled, reassuringly at Taehyung,

“Half a movie, I can only afford half a movie,” He mumbled downtrodden. Jimin wet his lips feeling awkward, he hadn’t dated anyone who wasn’t loaded with cash in a long time. 

“Jimin has a rule that if he can’t make a date the next one is half price,” you took the art of improv to a whole new level, “he couldn’t make your date and it had to be rescheduled, right? So, this one is half price so you can get twice the amount of time.”

“Yeah, she is right so we can hang out a little longer.” Jimin bit his lip looking at the young man and seeing the small smile pull up on his lips. “So let’s drop the tiny mama off and go watch a movie.”

“Ok,” Taehyung smiled, you watched the two, nervous like a highschool crush developing between two students. The two graciously dropped them off and Jimin walked you to the door.

“You are smitten!” You grinned, teasing him lightly watching his blush grow. Your eyes catching Taehyung fixing his hair in the passenger seat drop down mirror. “You have never been nervous in your life, and he is so sweet.”

“I have been with rich men here and there looking for a date or a night, but I have never had someone scraping together their money to spend just a little time with me, making handmade gifts because that's all they can do.” Jimin was clutching his heart, and you finally found the key for the front door. “When he tells me I am pretty, or that he loves my voice, it’s different. I know those CEO’s had wives, but when he says it, I feel special like I am the only one in the world he says it too.”

“So what’s the problem?” You asked, letting Jimin walk you inside with all your items. “You have a lot of savings and investment properties, you could live off that money very easily.”

“How can I see him when he thinks he has to pay me all the time?” Jimin mumbled, walking back to the front door. “I don’t want him to go bankrupt because he thinks he can’t afford my rates”

“I heard at the bar that he like photography. Tell him you want a photoshoot but you don’t know a good photographer who you feel comfortable with.” You hugged and an idea struck. “Say you can’t decide on a concept and offer him a few different ones you want to try. He has been asked to submit his work into an exhibition. I think the theme was nightlife.”

“Nightlife.”

“It’s up for interpretation, but who has a more busy nightlife than you, and I am not talking about going out on the town. A sensual at home photoshoot of you in a sheet or a naked silhouette overlooking the night city.”

“Oh that could be fun, I could be part of an exhibition” he giggled, “I will ask him.”

Jimin hugged you again for safe measure and ran off to his van and climbed inside.

You waved shutting the door and heading to the fridge hoping some cold yoghurt would soothe your overheated form, whilst also feeding your almost insatiable hunger.

Opening the fridge, you saw the last of your yoghurt at the back, bending slightly you felt a twinge in your back and as you straightened up, Yoghurt in your hand as you were overcome with a tightness in your stomach. Was this a contraction?

You were two weeks out from your due date so it wasn’t unusual for people to have their babies early. You pulled out your phone calling for an ambulance and trying to breathe calmly.

[Y/n: I think I am in labor, and you’re the only one who is free today.] [DJSuga: Like really or that time you ate too much rice too quickly and got indigestion?] [Y/n: I just called the ambulance.] [DJSuga: I will meet you at the hospital let me know what ward you are in when you know.]

“Hello, I am looking for Miss Y/n.” Yoongi’s voice carried across the hall from the nurses desk to your room. “I would describe her as pregnant but it wouldn’t help.”

“Wow, you are very descriptive. You really have no words to describe me Yoongi? I am offended.” You pouted walking out into the hall, “Let’s go home.”

“What I thought you were popping out a baby today?” he said confused, “If you say it was constipation or something stupid I will hit you upside the head.”

“Well, it wasn’t that.” You blushed, “It was braxton hicks?”

“Who?” he blanked, utterly confused, “What are you talking about?”

“It means fake labor, like a test run.”

“Can you stop with the test runs, I don’t think my body can take it anymore?” Yoongi held his back waddling down the hallway making you giggle. “Come on, I saw a restaurant for lamb skewers and I have been craving it since.”

“You are acting more like a pregnant woman than I am.”

Walking out the front of the hospital you were bombarded by Jin, Jungkook, Namjoon, and a disheveled Jimin with Taehyung. You didn’t realize how your eyes looked for Hoseok, until you didn’t find him. The crushing feeling in your chest made you frown slightly.

“False alarm.” Yoongi muttered, “Apparently Barbie Hacks or something, we are getting lamb skewers. Come on, I hear Jin is paying.”

Hoseok arrived at the Bar and saw that no one was around, the place was locked up with a sign announcing that it was closed for the night. It was strange Jin didn’t ever believe in taking days off, even when he was sick he would be in his office resting.

He called Jin’s phone and heard laughter, “I will be back” Jin's voice called. Hoseok could hear Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi talking about something adamantly. Had they planned something without him.

“Hey Hoseok, what do you need?”

“Your bar is closed?” Hoseok mumbled, “I was wondering what you are all doing?”

“Y/n went to the hospital because she was getting contractions but they turned out to be Braxton hicks, so we are having lamb skewers on Yoongi’s request.”

“Why did no one tell me?” Hoseok felt a little sick that his friends were hanging out without him and there was a strange pull in his chest knowing that he wasn’t there at the hospital. 

“I didn’t think we had to, seeing as you are not the father of any children.” Jin repeated his words back to him, “We aren’t picking sides but you made it clear you didn’t want to be a part of the child's life. So we didn’t want to force you to be there.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to be a part!” Hoseok shouted down the phone, “Urgh, this is fucked.”

With a sigh Jin grew deadly serious, “she was scared out of her mind today, she thought she was going to have to give birth alone, you have to talk to her.”

“I said some stupid shit, Jin. I don’t know how to fix this.” Hoseok pulled at his hair and started heading to your house, hoping that perhaps the two of you could talk this out before he ended up losing you.

He had so much that he wanted to say and get mad about, he wasn’t ready to forgive you but he wasn’t ready to let you go either.

You were dropped off at Hoseok’s apartment, the one you had lived in together before everything went wrong. Touching your rounded tummy you knew that this child wasn’t a mistake and apologized out loud for even implying anything of the sorts. Taking the stairs to the second floor you arrived at his door.

Knock knock.

“Hoseok are you home?” You called, taking the key from your keychain you peaked inside to see the lights were off. You sat for a moment but he didn’t come home and it was getting a little dark. 

Heading out you locked up and walked along the road. You put a headphone in and pretended to be in a conversation. Speeding up slightly as you passed the men sitting on the steps of one of the stores that had closed up for the night. The men were laughing about something and you scurried along. 

Sighing in relief when you went to cross the street, looking both ways you caught sight of figures following you. Were the men following you? What did they want? Thoughts were circling in your head as the adrenaline started to kick in. Dialing hoseok you crossed the road.

“Hello, Y/n?” Hoseok said “I wanted to-”

“Hoseok, there are men following me” you whispered.

“Where are you?” He asked, sounding concerned, which gave you a flash of hope that he would protect you like he always did.

“I am on our street, I am heading to Yuta, I need to go somewhere public.” You replied walking briskly.

“Keep walking, I'm on my way.” You heard the sound of an engine and you knew everything would be okay. Hoseok wouldn’t let you get hurt.

“Don’t hang up, they are still following.” Picking up your speed you noticed they had started to walk a little more briskly. “I sped up and they did too, Hobi, I am really scared.”

“Don’t slow down, you got this little darling, I will be there soon.” Hoseok said with desperation in his voice. “I won’t leave you on your own anymore. I should have been there today. I should be with you now!”

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed phone clattering onto the ground, “I am sorry miss, we called out but your headphones were in, you dropped your wallet.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, do you need help, can we escort you somewhere?” The other man asked. “There has been some break-ins recently so we have taken to watching the neighborhood.”

They walked you back towards Hoseok's and you sat with them as you spoke about what happened with Hoseok. Talking about how you stuffed up and lied to him. “You mean the really happy guy with the reddish hair? You two used to walk this street all the time. I knew you too liked each other,” they grinned

“So is it a little girl or boy?” One of the guys gestured to your belly. “Have you thought of any names?”

“A little girl and I have been thinking of some. Sun-Hee it just reminds me so much of her dad,” you hummed, a little nervous to hear their feedback, “does it sound silly?”

“It sounds beautiful.”

Looking up there was Hoseok panting and looking relieved to see you okay. Standing, you walked over to your longest friend, hoping he didn’t scold you. “Hoseok, I am sorry.”

He pulled you into a hug and buried his face in your neck, “I don’t care. I don’t care that you lied and kept this from me. I don’t care about any of that, let me be here for you. I will be by your side.”

You were crying, he took your face in his hands brushing your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Alright love birds, Kiss each other.”

Your cheeks were bright red, ready to laugh and tell the men it wasn’t like that when Hoseok pulled you forward. Pressing his lips to your's, he kissed you fiercely, his hands holding your waist and cradling your head. He tried to pull you closer when your belly bumped against him. He looked down and rubbed your belly gently, “I am sorry I wasn’t there but I am here now, and I am not leaving.”

“Let’s go home, Hobi.” You whispered, he thanked the men for taking care of you and led you to his van. He drove back to your house and walked you inside, shutting the door and taking off his shoes. The two of you sat on the couch.

“I guess you have a lot to talk about.” Hoseok said nervous and you swung your leg over his lap and kissed him. It was difficult to maneuver with your big belly, but you were too busy enjoying the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

“I want to remember this time,” you breathed against him. “Please let’s just pretend that one didn’t happen and try again.”

Hoseok laughed and lifted you carefully and carried you to the bedroom.

Hoseok was gentle and passionate; he teased you with his fingers and lavished you with his tongue. You had never had anything like this. Usually you were chasing a high with some guy you never had plans to call again, and that was on the rare occasion you were looking for sex. This made you feel overwhelmingly good, your heart was pounding. Every thrust brought with it a spark of energy. You clung to Hoseok as he lost himself in the sensations. 

He would open his eyes in moments of clarity and kiss you telling you how much he loved you. It wasn’t like jumping off the edge into pleasure; this was like waves that started small and built into a choppy tide never crashing upon you, just rocking you with pleasure. After the crescendo moment the waves began to ease back until it was the gentle waters lapping at the sand.

“Hobi,” you panted as he laid your head on his chest. He hummed encouraging you to continue. You took his hand and placed it onto your belly, “you remember two minutes ago when we had sex, well I think I fell pregnant.”

He laughed, throwing his head back into the pillow and leaned down kissing your belly, “I think you might be right!”

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[thesmokingguns]

24 Hours

Word Count:3454

Request/ Summary: “Can i request one where nicki gets turned down by their makeup artist or like stand in manager and hes upset and he finds out the the manager just doesnt sleep with people she just met”

I tried to write this where she breaks rules for him and turns him down. He understands what her restrictions are but he can see that living by her strict rules she created for herself she is making herself unhappy.

I hope I hit the prompt you wanted!

A/N: This turned out longer than I expected it to be so sorry about that one. I do have three requests I’m writing right now on top of some of the stuff I am writing so you can all still make requests but I'm going to be saying it’s a two week wait for a new request right now. I also want to say I am going to write a third and fourth part to the 3am Duff series because I have no self control. Thank you for everyone being patient with me and all your kind words! If you want to be added to my tallest please message me or go HERE

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc​ , @littlemisscare-all​ , @agroupiewhore , @ayablackwood​

You were having a bad day. Not just a bad day but one of those days where everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. From morning to night it was the literal day from hell for you.

8:12am You woke up, an hour after you had hit snooze on your alarm, twelve minutes after you were supposed to leave your house to get to work.

8:34am After throwing yourself together and rushing out the door, you were running out of the apartment with the cup of coffee you had economically and time consciously thought to make. On the last step before you had escaped into the day you slipped, the hot coffee spilled all down the front of your red dress, because of course it was the one day you weren’t wearing black. Rushing back up the stairs you realized that the keys to get into your apartment were in your apartment, hanging on the hook just out of reach behind the door. So you would be going to work in your coffee dress.

9:01AM You made it to work, only thirty-one minutes late. Your boss wasn’t happy that you were late on a Friday, thinking you had done this on purpose as some slight to them. Which meant they had pulled you in the office and chewed you a new asshole.

They also told you about coming to work in a clean, tidy appearance as if you had wanted to be wearing your coffee.

As you were being yelled at you watched the line back up and couldn’t help but think about how yelling at you was just making the situation worse. You also were also thinking about how next time you’d just call in sick instead of being late.

11:59AM One minute before you were scheduled to take a break, one fucking minute, and the crazy man came in. Throwing his shit smelling money at you and proceeding to vomit all over your window.

Your window, your mess. So instead of having a much needed timeout from the day from hell you were trying to scrub the smell of puke off a counter.

1:47 PM You finally stepped out for lunch. Moving to the payphone to call your roommate. She thankfully answered on the second ring of the apartment phone. At least the door would be unlocked after work, which was one thing you had been worried about.

She was quick to tell you about how she had gotten you a gig for the night. Knowing how you wanted to travel, you two had come up with a plan a few months ago to find work in Hollywood for bands or on film sets. She had been pretty popular making costumes and helping to come up with whole concepts for the upcoming Glam Rock scene. One of her usual bands needed help because their makeup artist had been sick, so you were going to work for her tonight.

This would be considered a good thing but since it was a trial run you were not going to be getting paid for this gig. So your time would be free. The makeup you used on them you needed to provide. And you have to be there at 5PM to set up, which is the exact time that you need to get out of work. Your roommate agreed to help set you up and she was going to bring you a change of clothes to the gig. It would be fine because the band wouldn’t need to be made up until 6 or 7 but it was just another thing on your plate.

So you would be losing money that you needed to pay rent on a bunch of entitled rock stars who would probably not hire you and this whole night would just leave you feeling exhausted and annoyed. Really looking forward to it.

3:49PM Your coworker went home sick with a headache so now you had to do twice the amount of work and there was no hope in hell that you would be making it to the gig in time tonight. That great first impression that you would need to get an actual long job was gone. And you were stuck with a line out the door of people trying to cash their checks all seeming to want to kill you. Happy Friday.

5:02PM You were running down the street, thankful you worked around the corner from the venue. A sigh of relief left your lips seeing your roommate waiting for you. She dragged you inside pushing you towards a bathroom and giving you a bag of clothes to change into. You lined your brown eyes with the kohl liner, winging your eyeliner and adding a deep burgundy lip shade that complimented your darker skin.

“Y/N, hurry up.” you rolled your eyes, repacking the bag and heading out where your friend was waiting for you. “I put your makeup in the dressing room already. It’s not set up yet.” she pulled you down a few hallways. Equipment for the band was more around as they started getting ready to set up everything for the show.

You entered the dressing room, seeing there was a table for food and drinks set up,  a rack of costumes for the band to wear, and finally a vanity where your makeup bag was sitting ready to be unpacked. Your friend handed you a cup, pouring a few fingers worth of vodka into it before splashing in some juice to help the taste.

“Cheers,” you tapped red solo cups drinking heavily. If you weren’t going to get paid for the gig you might as well take advantage of whatever free perks came with it.

6:23PM Sitting on the couch, legs crossed, you were chatting aimlessly with your friend when the door opened and a man walked in looking at you confused.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. I’m the makeup artist for the night.” you were quick to introduce yourself not wanting him to think you were another girl who was just trying to sleep with the band.

“Mick.” he moved to pour himself a full cup of straight vodka, “Can you do my makeup now? The three pretty boys take too much time.” Ushering him into the seat you started out on him, wondering what the hell he meant about the other guys being divas.

7:45PM A blonde burst into the room, seeming surprised that you were standing there. The girl on his arm laughed too loudly and you looked over to your roommate who was handing Mick a belt to wear. She just shrugged, this was normal for her.

“Vince, new makeup artist. You should sit now before the Terror Twins stumble in.” Mick warned him. He pulled away from the girl on his arm headed over to your chair with an easy smile.

“You're going to make me prettier, doll?”

“I’m thinking that you would look with some blue eyeshadow. It would really complete your Malibu Barbie look.” You retorted, watching amused as his mouth dropped open, not used to having someone give it back to him.

You hated cocky assholes who thought that they were God’s gift. There was nothing wrong with a  man who was confident but the way that he was looking at himself in the mirror as you did his makeup you knew he was the type that thought he was above everyone else.

8:21PM  Two men burst into the room as you finished up Vince. Looking at the two taller men you let your eyes wander over them. Vince was a diva but there two were going to be where you had the most trouble. They must be tber terror twins Mick had mentioned.

One of the guys fell into the chair, laughing about something as he sipped the beer he was drinking, rubbing his nose. He lit up a cigarette as he sat back in the chair not seeming to care if it was annoying that he was blowing smoke in your face as you tried to work.

You bit your tongue, annoyed as you tried to work around his cigarette, that he almost burnt you with seven different times. As you worked you could feel a set of eyes on you. Looking up you saw the man he had walked in with, staring at you with these intense olive eyes.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be interested in any of these loudmouth guys, who all seemed to be drunk and hyperactive. It was kind of like you were doing makeup for a bunch of chimps instead of men.

8:55PM Finally the last man was sitting in your chair. His eyes gazing up at you with such intensity you stopped moving around to just look at him.

“Have we met before?” there was something familiar about him and you wondered if you had met him at a bar or at a show before.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m Nikki.” Usually when a guy used a nickname instead of your given name you chalked it up to them being a douchebag but with him it seemed natural and not derogatory, “Thank you for coming out to do our makeup today. I heard the other artist got sick at the last minute. We appreciate you taking your time to help us out…” he left it blank waiting for you to give him your name.

“Y/N.” You were surprised by how talkative he was. The kindness in his tone is different from the way the other guys have been. Just when you thought he was different you felt a hand on the back of your thigh, “If you don’t get your hand off me I’ll break your fingers so you can’t play tonight.” you warned him, looking into the olive eyes gazing up at you.

He was too good looking. The type of guy you could get into trouble with if you allowed yourself but you wouldn’t be taking home a stranger tonight.

“Do you always talk to your clients like that?” he asked with a coy smile on his face. This was the type of smug you liked. The funny easy going type who could make you laugh if you had not been on your feet for twelve hours.

“Only the ones that don’t pay me.” you replied, swiping his eyeshadow on. You wanted this to be over so you could go home and sleep.

The drummer came over, bumping into the vanity and knocking the eyeshadow off and not seeming to notice as the makeup smashed into a thousand pieces on the ground. You were officially losing a lot of money on this job and didn’t have the funds to replace it.

“Jesus, T-Bone, watch where you’re going.” Nikki commented, watching you start to pack everything up, “Aren’t you sticking around to watch the show?”  You shook your head. “Why don’t you stick around and I’ll take you out after for a late dinner. As an apology for this being a bust for you.” You were sure that the way he smiled and how his eyes were so clear made it easy for him to pick up chicks but you weren’t going to be one of them.

“I had a long day. I’m not going out with you.” You zipped up your bag ready to leave

“Listen, Y/N, just stay until we go on. Maybe I can talk to someone and you can get paid for coming out.” You did need the money. So reluctantly you stayed.

9:57PM You shouldn’t have stayed. Nikki had seemed to think you telling him you were not going out with him was a maybe you’d go out with him.

It had been an hour of him sitting on the couch getting to know you, asking questions and being nice to you. Men weren’t nice to you just for the sake of being nice, they were born without the concept of human decency.

But he had also talked to their manager, pointing at you and saying stuff you didn’t get to hear. Now you were stuck in a weird limbo wondering if you were going to get paid.

11:15pm The band rushed on stage and you were pulled aside by the manager. He handed you and envelope that you knew contained cash.

“The boys are going to have a few California gigs. If you can stick it out for a couple weeks I’ll consider hiring you for the tour. I’ll pay you $100 bucks a gig and you need to bring your own supplies to start but if you go on tour you’ll get a contract.” He said. You agreed and he handed you a piece of paper with four dates, the upcoming week, times, and his phone number to call if you couldn’t make it. There was also a chicken scratch handwriting with the name Nikki and a phone number

You were stunned when he walked away. You not only got paid but you have jobs lined up to make even more. It was a dream.

Looking up, you moved towards the stage watching the bassist move around the stage. He was high energy, loving what he was doing. There was this presence about him that drew you in. If you did get the tour position that would be trouble.

11:59PM You had finished packing up and we’re heading out of the venue to head home. You were ready for your bed and a few hours of sleep. The guys were playing tomorrow and you wanted to not be having a bad day.

Trying to sneak out, you almost jumped back when four sweaty men came barreling into the room. Your heart instantly went to your throat seeing Nikki. His smile dancing across his lips, hey black hair stuck to his forehead just oozing self confidence and sex appeal.

“You’re leaving so soon?” You just nodded at his question, wondering if it would be considered rude to tuck his hair out of his face. “Did you call a taxi or need a ride? There’s a lot of unsafe riff raff out this late.” He warned and you almost thought he sounded concerned.

“I’m a grown woman. I can walk myself home. It’s only like 15 minutes from here.” His eyebrow raised as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you won’t.” You shoe back, “I don’t know you and I don’t leave with strangers I’ve only known for one day.” You responded. It was practical to have rules to keep you from getting hurt.

“Well, Y/N, we’ve known each other for two days now since it’s past midnight.” He was so calm saying this to you, “And I’m trying to cut back on drinking so if they see me leave with you I won’t be harassed so you’ll really be doing me the favor.” Thinking about what he said, your tongue licked your top lip nervously. The way his eyes followed this motion gave you your answer.

“Thank you for the offer. I’m going to say goodbye to my roommate. I’ll see you in 20 minutes outside?” You gave him a smile and  saw the way he was melting under your touch as you moved away from him.

You moved over to your friend letting her know you were leaving and you’d see her at home.

12:22 AM Adjusting the bag over your shoulder you weaved through the crowds pouring in and out of all the clubs. No one ever really bothered you walking home. It was just the cat calling and guys thinking that they had a right to run their mouths

“Y/N.” You frowned hearing your name. The roar of a motorcycle speeding up had your eyes looking out on the street.

Oh Shit. There was Nikki, looking at you with a line where his smile had been, his kind eyes looking annoyed at you. You had left him after saying you’d let him take you home but he was too pushy.

“Get on.” the steely tone of his voice made you stop what you were doing, thinking of what to do next. People were looking at the pair of you, some probably recognizing Nikki from his band. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward.

“Listen to me, I’m not getting on. I don’t know you.” His look softened and it was like for the first time he understood what the issue was.

“I just want to make sure that you make it home safe. I know you don’t want anything happening to you. It would feel like my responsibility if you went missing after doing the band's makeup.” you rolled your eyes. Eyeing him and the bike. It had been a long day and it was onlya  five minute drive. What was the worst that could happen?

1:02AM The worst thing that could happen was happening.

When you got on the back of Nikki’s Harley he had asked where you lived. As he drove, you wrapped around his back you realized for the first time of the night you were smiling a genuine wife smile.

Watching the lights of the Strip and the hustle and bustle fly by when wrapped around his warm body, the noie drowned out by the roar of the bike was nice. It felt good. So when you pulled up on your street and he asked if you wanted to drive around more you didn't say no like you should have.

Weaving around the empty highways with just the pair of you was nice. There was no conversations but it felt like you two were getting to know each other on another level.

3:55AM Nikki pulled the bike into a donut shop on the side of the highway. The smell of fresh baked pastries and coffee brewing awakening you much like the wind whipping your face had been keeping you awake but it had been almost twenty four hours awake.

The pair of your ordered black coffee and a donut, sitting on stools at the counter and eating in a comfortable silence.

“Are you mad at me?” He didn’t have a cheeky grin on his face like you had expected but he was serious. “I know you said you wouldn’t go out with me but it just seemed like you were having a bad day and I have a hero complex.” you snorted when he said this. Surprised he admitted that he had a heroes complex.

“I’m not mad. I got on the back of your bike and stayed out.” you thought for a second, “I think I needed it. I always follow my rules and never break them. I think sometimes I need a break from the rules I create.” you said all this with your heart beating wondering what the hell you were doing with this guy in the middle of nowhere.

5:41AM Nikki had wrapped his leather jacket around you, both your boots abandoned by the motorcycle as you sat with toes in the sand watching the sun rise over the Pacific. You hadn't even seen the sun rising over the ocean before so you were wrapped up in the orange and golds of the sky, how the inky black of the water came alive into blue and purple hues with the light.

It was beautiful.

It felt like something was washing over you as you watchined it. Something was changing as you watched the sun start a new day. A new day that you had this feeling in your bones was going to be a good day.

Wiping a tear away, you took a deep breath remembering that you had moved here to make your dreams come true and for the first time it felt like it was going to happen.

A hand on your back reminded you that you weren’t alone. His olive eyes looking at you, concerned. You wiped a tear away trying to laugh it off.

“I never saw the sunrise over the ocean. It’s beautiful,” It was at that moment, wrapped up in the beauty of everything that you realized that he was going to kiss you. The way his hand was against your check, wiping the tears away.

But you surprised both of you leaning forward to push your lips against his. Making the first move. You were breaking all of your rules for him but it felt good and you could tell you would be breaking more rules with him

6:00AM It was going to be a good day.

[wlntrsldler]

you belong with me (d.m one shot!)

“You belong with me” for Draco plz 🥺💚

@scene-awsten said:

you belong with me + fred or draco ( u choose im not picky at all !! ) ur writing is amazing btw <3

-

PROMPT: based on you belong with me by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Draco doesn’t know how to express his feelings.

WC: 2.8K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

you belong with me (d.m one shot)

You and Draco have a complicated relationship, to say the least. Most days you were at each other’s throats ready to tease each other until one left the room or turned an embarrassing shade of red. He’d reply to your words with a rude remark- which you learned not to take to heart- that leaves you in a fit of laughter because you knew he never really meant it. 

It started out in your first year, when you would try to talk to him, as best as your 11-year old half-blood self could. When you were sorted into Hufflepuff and were placed in the same class as the Slytherins for Defense Against the Dark Arts. You were partnered up with young Draco, who wore a frown on his face when he was separated from his friends in the class. 

You stared at the boy, taking in his appearance. You grew up in the Muggle world, only learning about the Wizarding world in small bits through your father’s stories. You tapped his shoulder, “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, looking up and down from your face to your outstretched hand. Reluctantly, he shook your hand, “Draco Malfoy.” 

You grinned at him, scooting over to get closer to him. “You look like a barbie doll.” 

“A what?” he asked, looking at you with a grimace. He moved his chair to create more distance between you two, completely defeating the purpose of your move, “What the hell is a barbie doll?” 

“You guys don’t have barbies here?” 

“If it's something from the Muggle world, then no.” Draco scoffed, opening his book to the correct page. “Anything from the Muggle world is inferior to the Wizarding world.” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, oblivious to his obvious jab. “I will say I miss pens and pencils because these quills are just ancient.” 

Draco didn’t talk to you for the rest of the class period, just sneaking side glances at you as you struggled to write with your quill. He rolled his eyes at your cluelessness with all things Wizards and wondered how on earth you got accepted to Hogwarts. I already hate this bloody school, he thought. 

Over the years, you found yourself creating a bond with Draco. Despite his terrible people skills, you seemed to be patient with him, not really taking offense to his words. You would laugh and say something kind to him, throwing him completely off balance. Draco didn’t mean to be rude, you see, he just didn’t know how to talk to people. So he acted like a little boy on the playgrounds, pulling the pigtails of the girl he thought was very pretty. 

Then one day, you returned to Hogwarts and puberty hit you like a truck. Draco almost didn’t recognize you. You walked into the Great Hall, yellow tie proudly around your neck, with your fellow Hufflepuffs. You threw your head back laughing at something Cedric said and having to take a moment before you could say something back.

Draco noticed that your hair grew longer and your features matured over the summer. Your lips were more plump and you sported a natural blush on your cheeks. He gulped, ignoring the banter of Crabbe and Goyle to his left as he watched you take a seat beside Cedric. You noticed his eyes and sent a smile his way, causing the boy to look down at his plate, embarrassed that he was caught staring at you. 

Cedric looked at what got your attention and let out a chuckle to see a flustered Draco, “That boy is so smitten with you, you know that, Y/N? It’s quite funny actually.”

You grinned at Cedric, “How’s that funny?”

“Because he’s crushing on you like a little school girl and it’s funny to see it not returned.”

“Who said I don’t return the feelings?”

He raised an eyebrow at your question, “Do you?”

“Maybe.” 

Draco was both irritated and relieved that he didn’t have classes with you this year. To say that he forgot how to speak when you passed by him, was an understatement. Every time he saw you even walk in his general direction, he would turn around and walk the other way. He didn’t know why but he did. You made him nervous all of a sudden and he didn’t like it one bit. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed your banters. His days seemed very uneventful without them. 

He was walking towards the courtyard when he felt someone grab his forearm, pulling him towards a secluded part of the castle. Draco’s eyes widened when he realized it was you, angrily huffing as you stopped behind a pillar. You let go of his arm and crossed your arms over your chest. He was mentally debating if he should just run now. Surely you wouldn’t run after him, right? 

As if reading his mind, you glared at him, jabbing your index finger in his chest. “Don’t even think of running, Malfoy.” 

He gulped, nodding slowly, “O-okay..”

Once you saw his demeanor, you cleared your throat, realizing you’re probably scaring him. You frowned, “Why are you ignoring me?”

“What?” he asked, acting clueless but he knew he was ignoring you. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, nervously looking everywhere but your face in front of him. Merlin, you were prettier up close. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/L/N.” 

“Don’t be daft, Malfoy,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re avoiding somebody. Remember when you got Pansy in trouble and she swore she would hex you the next time she saw you? She was so furious that you were absolutely sure that she would so you would hide from her. The same way you’re hiding from me now. So what gives, Malfoy?”

Panicked, he said the only thing he could think of, “I’m not avoiding you. Did you ever stop and think that maybe because we don’t have classes together anymore, that means I no longer have to talk to you?” 

“Oh.” You blinked. You swallowed down any feeling of sadness as his words marinated in your head. You looked down, hiding the stray tear that slipped from your eye from the boy in front of you. You wiped it away hastily, clearing your throat before looking up. “I-I’m sorry. I thought we were past being just classmates… I must’ve misunderstood, then.”

His face dropped, leaning over to touch your shoulder, “Y/N-”

“No,” you interrupted, giving him a sad smile before backing away. “Silly me, thinking that we were friends. You’re Draco Malfoy, you’re too cool to have friends. I’ll leave you be now. Sorry for the inconvenience.” 

Before he could tell you just how wrong you were, you already disappeared from his vicinity. You walked away, hurriedly, down the corridor, ignoring the sound of Draco’s voice calling after you. Draco groaned, punching the side of the pillar in annoyance. Why can’t he just be nice for once?

You and Draco avoided each other pretty much entirely after that day. You were too ashamed to face him and Draco was too nervous and scared to come up to you and apologize. You just felt stupid thinking that something was brewing between the two of you. It wasn’t until Cedric dragged you to a Slytherin party- for Merlin knows what- that you and Draco were forced to cross paths again. You huffed as Cedric rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand to lead you to the Slytherin common room. 

“I don’t understand why I have to go with you.” 

Cedric looked over at you, irritated by your attitude, “Y/N, you need to have fun. Loosen up a bit!”

“Hmph,” you groaned, following him anyway. He mumbled greetings to Slytherins that you passed by, not letting go of your hand. Cedric was one of your closest friends, this affection between the two of you was normal. It didn’t mean anything but a sign of your friendship. “I am very much a fun person.” 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he stopped in front of the drinks, letting go of your hand to make the two of you some drinks. He mixed in random liquids, making you grimace because he was never good at proportions and you knew this drink would be horrid, before handing it to you. “I’m just saying you need to have fun.” 

Reluctantly, you chugged your drink, coughing after it burned your throat. You were indeed correct- the drink was terrible. “I hate you, Diggory.” 

Chuckling, he sent you a wink, “I loveee you, Y/L/N.” 

You wanted to say something back but Cedric suddenly stumbled over. Luckily, he caught his balance before he fell face first on the Common Room floor. Draco bumped into him, glaring at the Hufflepuff as he made his way to the group of Slytherins on the other side of the room. When he looked up to meet your eyes, his expression changed. His face became blank, eyes ghosting over your face. Draco gave you a small smile that vanished just as quickly as it came. He turned his back and returned to acting like you didn’t exist. 

Cedric snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to get you out of your trance. You blinked a few times, now focused on your friend who had a shit-eating smirk on his face. You hissed, “What now, Diggory?”

“Seems like Malfoy’s jealous,” he sang, laughing behind his cup. “I would love to push his buttons and see him completely blow up at this party.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you sighed, stealing his cup and drinking the rest of his disgusting liquid. You grimaced, why did I do that? You continued, “And besides, how would we make him jealous?”

“Like this,” he started. Then, he leaned in your ear, dangerously close to your skin. In a breathy voice, he said, “Pretend I said something funny.” 

You giggled at his antics, thinking of how ridiculous your friend was being. But when you shot a look at where Draco stood, you began to reconsider your original opinion. He was standing there, uninterested by the story Blaise was telling him from beside him. Draco’s nostrils were flared and the cup he was holding was starting to lose its shape with how tightly he was gripping it. He didn’t even bother looking away when you cocked your head to the side to look at him. 

You thought he would’ve done something to get your attention but for the rest of the night, Draco kept his distance. After a while, Cedric gave up, shooting you an apologetic look that his plan didn’t work out. In fact, Cedric left you at the party a few minutes after Cho showed up. He said he was getting tired and was going to head up, but the two weren’t necessarily discreet when Cho left five minutes before Cedric did. You sent a wink his way and began to finish your drink, realizing that there was now no reason for you to stay. 

With a sigh, you tossed your cup into the bin and began to get ready to leave. Draco watched with a panic as you retreated to the exit. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, unsure of what to do. He watched you disappear into the darkness and slumped his shoulders. 

“Run after her, idiot.” Blaise chuckled beside him. “And hurry up, I’m tired of you sulking.” 

“What?” 

“Go on, Draco,” Blaise simply rolled his eyes and ushered his friend out of the Common Room. “You’ve been staring at her the entire night. I reckon you don’t even know what I’ve been saying all this time.”

Finally coming to his senses, Draco ran after you, getting a hold of your shoulder to pull you towards him. You looked at him, confused as to why he was out of breath and standing there like a deer caught in headlights. He stared at your face, taking in your beauty. He wanted nothing else but to tuck that strand of hair behind your ear or kiss your lips that seemed to be glistening under the glow of the lights in the corridor. 

“Draco?” you asked, removing his hand from your shoulder. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to seem defensive, but in reality, you just missed him. “What do you want?” 

Draco gulped, not realizing that he now has to actually talk to you. He didn’t think he’d get this far. He blushed, gaze averting to the empty hallway behind you. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, a sheepish smile on his face. You leaned forward a bit as if saying, “Well get on with it.” Draco sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. Without thinking, he blurted out, “Are you dating Diggory?”

“What?”

He grimaced, mentally face-palming. That was not what he wanted to say. He groaned, “I mean-”

“You’re a git, you know that?” you hissed, shoving him a bit. “You tell me that we’re not friends and make me feel so bloody stupid then all of a sudden, after not talking to me for weeks, may I add, you think you have the right to ask me about my dating life? You-” you paused, taking in a breath. “You-Draco Malfoy- have no right to ask me anything.” 

He stood there, unable to say anything back. What could he even say? What you said was valid, you had a reason to be upset with him. He has been such an arse to you and for no good reason! Draco knew he was just being stupid. 

You rolled your eyes and walked away, assuming that Draco wasn’t going to say anything else. You scoffed loudly, shooting him a glare as you turned to leave the boy alone in his loneliness. 

Draco called out for you again, “Y/N-”

“Oh and for the record-” you turned around to face him again, but not daring to walk closer to him. “Not that it’s any of your business but me and Cedric are just friends. He’s not the guy I fancy.” 

“Y/N! Merlin, please stop walking away! How do you walk so bloody fast?” Draco jogged towards you again, this time stopping in front of you to prevent you from moving any further. You still wore the same scowl on your face and he couldn’t help but stop and think about how cute you look. He chuckled, eyes lighting up when he saw your lips quirk up to a small smile before it vanished. “I didn’t mean to ask about Cedric. Quite frankly, I don’t care about your relationship, or erm, non-relationship with him. Well, I do b-”

Both of your eyebrows raised in amusement at the boy’s blabbering, “Why would you care about my non-relationship with Cedric?” 

“I just said I don’t, Y/L/N,” he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up at you, growing more flustered once he saw the smirk on your face. “Okay, yes, I do care but listen… Blimey, how do I say this? I just, Y/N, I-”

“Spit it out, Malfoy.”

“Youbelongwithme.” Draco spoke quickly, almost making you miss what he said.

Mouth agape, you asked, “Come again?”

He sighed, “You belong with me. I fancy you. A lot actually. That’s why I avoided you all this time. I just… I don’t know, you know? I’ve never really fancied anyone before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Not run away from them,” you teased, laughing lightly at his cluelessness. 

“Alright now, no need to laugh,” he mumbled. “It’s already embarrassing enough confessing my feelings to the girl I fancy but for her to laugh at me is something else.”

“I’m laughing because you’re cute, Malfoy,” you hummed, reaching up to touch his cheek. “But run away from me again and I’ll hex you into oblivion.” 

Draco couldn’t do anything else but nod as your scent filled his senses. You were slowly inching closer to him, breath tickling his lips. He visibly gulped, snaking his hands around your waist to pull your body closer to his. His nose nudged yours, “Promise I won’t.”

“Good,” you whispered, eyes flickering up to meet his own and then looked down at his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. You pushed your lips together, sighing in content as he groaned into your mouth. His lips moved with yours in sync. Both of you were too caught up in the feeling that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming closer to the both of you. 

Someone cleared their throat, making you two jump away from each other, fearing that it was one of the professors. You shook your head, burying your head into Draco’s chest when you realized who it was. Draco wrapped an arm around you, smiling down at your retreated figure. 

Cedric chuckled before walking away, “Told you we could make him jealous.” 

Draco nudged you, “You were trying to make me jealous?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. To silence him, you pressed your lips to his again, “Shut up.” 

“Gladly,” he muttered, kissing you deeply.

TAGS:

@rexorangecouny

A/N: i bought cameos from the phelps twins and oliver’s video came in today and it was so lovely. i can’t wait for james’!!

[chrwrites]

Bad Ideas - Chapter 1: “I'm his girlfriend”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I wrote this for @astronavigatrix for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Secret Admirer Exchange! The prompt was Fake Dating and I decided to write '5 Times Luka and Marinette pretended to be dating and one time they didn't need to'. I had a lot of ideas for this and I ended up splitting it in chapters. I hope you like it! 💖

read on ao3

Marinette's mouth twisted at the scene in front of her, an unpleasant feeling making her stomach twist.

Luka was standing in front of his locker, nodding at a girl Marinette had never seen, a polite smile on his face as she got way too close. She was tilting her head, one finger twirling around a strand of platinum blonde hair as she raised her free hand to his arm. Her long fake nails danced slowly up and down his bicep. 

His expression twisted in annoyance and he tried to shrug her off and put some distance between them, but yet again she leaned in and all Luka could do was roll his eyes at whatever she was saying. 

Marinette grit her teeth. Didn't that girl notice how uncomfortable she was making him? Or how he wasn’t really enjoying her presence at all? Damn, Luka wasn’t even the type of person to show his annoyance like that. He was usually calm and collected. What had she done to make him act like that?

Marinette couldn’t just stand there and watch without doing anything. She had to do something before that girl, whoever she was, made Luka feel more and more uneasy. She watched him look down, his fingers twisting the spinner ring on his thumb, before deciding to take action.

“Lu!” she called, sliding her arm into his as soon as she was close and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting. She felt Luka stiffen before he relaxed into her, his eyes wide in surprise at her unexpected display of affection. “Marinette?”

The girl in front of them finally took a step back, a startled expression forming on her face while she studied them. She blinked before speaking. “And you are..?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she focused on Marinette. 

Marinette frowned, but her mouth twisted in a sweet smile as soon as she looked back at Luka, “I'm his girlfriend,” she chirped.

Fortunately, her voice didn't betray her. She slid her hand to hold Luka's and squeezed tight, looking up at him.

His eyes were wide, and a strangled sound escaped his lips before he shut it close. Marinette giggled and gave him a confident smile in the hopes that it would  reassure him. She leaned her head to his shoulder and Luka didn't flinch away, but all he managed to let out as his thumb brushed the back of her hand and tried to keep himself grounded was a choked out “Yeah…” that got him to clear his throat.

“You have a girlfriend? Since when?” the girl asked, feigning innocence in a way that sounded so familiar that made Marinette's blood boil.

Luka opened his mouth to speak, but Marinette cut him off, “That's none of your business,” she snarled. The girl huffed in annoyance, and Marinette glared at her. Luka next to her straightened up and took a deep breath, and Marinette gave a comforting squeeze to his hand.

She then  turned her attention back at the girl, who had crossed her arms as her eyes went up and down to study her.

Marinette held her gaze and didn't flinch at the disgusted expression forming in front of her. If she was going to come up with a hurtful comment, Marinette was ready to snap back. It’s not like she hadn’t dealt with disrespectful brats over time, and she wasn’t letting some cheap dollar store Barbie imitation — okay no, actually, she was pretty, but that couldn’t make up for her personality — put her down or harass her best friend. She was Marinette, she was strong and—

“But aren't you a seconde ? Such a shame Luka here's into little girls… you could do so much better,” the girl said in a saccharine voice while fluttering her fake lashes at Luka.

Marinette felt Luka's hold on her hand tightening. She raised her free hand to his chest and gave him a reassuring look, trying to wordlessly tell him that she could handle it, but his jaw was still clenched when she spoke. 

“Yeah, I know, a 16-year-old dating a 17-year-old. Shocking,” Marinette gritted through her teeth and pulled Luka towards her, making the girl scoff and check her nails. Good, now they could leave.

“Come on, I don't want us to be late for class,” Marinette said, holding Luka’s hand tighter and walking past the girl. She didn’t miss the chilling glare Luka sent her way. 

When they were far enough from Luka’s locker, Marinette started walking faster, as Luka didn't have trouble following her nervous pace with his long legs. The closed doors of the classrooms and the colorful posters on the walls passed through her eyes in a blur even as she tried to focus on them instead of the anger that was building inside her. Marinette didn't want to let some stupid Barbie wannabe ruin her day, but all she could think about were the girl’s words. The deprecative tone in her voice when she called her a seconde and told Luka that he could do much better. She didn’t know what she was talking about.

That was stupid, Luka never failed to remind her how extraordinary she was. Even now as she led him through the school and he followed her quietly, he took the first chance he had to shake her from her thoughts.“Marinette, that's not where your class is…”

“I don't care,” she said, looking for an empty classroom she could calm down in. Luka squeezed her hand reassuringly, and his thumb slowly brushed the back of her hand. Marinette took a deep breath, but his action didn't help her forget about long nails moving on his arm and the words still ringing in her head. It actually made her think about it more. 

Who the hell did she think she was?

She had no right to belittle her, to imply that she wasn't worth enough for Luka to spend time with. It didn't matter if it was only because she was trying to hit on him and Marinette was rightfully putting herself between them. She was being disrespectful towards him, invading his personal space, and Marinette couldn't just stand there and watch, right?

No, Luka was her friend and she had every right to rescue him from unwanted attention. It's not like anyone cared about who they were da—

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she realized what she had done, and how Luka had just silently rolled with it and was still holding her hand. Why would she even say something like that?

She picked a turn, opting for the art classroom that was always empty in the early hours of the morning and, when she finally found it, she slammed the door closed behind them.

“Marinette, what the fuck ?” Luka said. His bewildered expression made Marinette’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

She groaned, letting his hand go to hide her face and lean to an empty desk. “I’m so, so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said it, but she was making you uncomfortable and I wanted to help you get rid of her.”

Luka let out a breathless laugh. “By saying that you’re my girlfriend?”

“I couldn’t come up with anything better, I’m sorry! And if you think she’ll spread the rumor, we can just say that we broke up or something. We’re not even together in the first place and I know I was stupid and I understand if you’re mad at me, but I did it because—”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted her, his hands reaching for her wrists to gently pull her hands down and reveal her face. As he looked her in the eyes, he held a soft expression that made her feel incredibly better. “I don’t care about the rumors. Honestly, I should thank you for stepping in. I’ve been trying to let her down gently, but it didn’t work. I’m sorry you had to deal with her, too,” he said, his voice tense.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently before speaking. “It’s alright, Lu. I’ve learned to deal with that,” she said. 

“I know, but you shouldn’t have bothered...” he sighed.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m your friend Luka, and friends help each other out,”  she said. Luka nodded, but something about him seemed off. She knew Luka was the type of person to handle things by himself, but he never rejected Marinette’s help when she offered it. 

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me for saying that I’m your girlfriend?” she asked hesitantly.

Luka looked up at her and gave her a small smile. “I’m not mad at you, Mari,” he reassured. “You’re fine. Just… don’t catch me off guard with stuff like that.”

Marinette nodded and leaned to wrap her arms around him. She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as he held her, and when she pulled away, she could finally see the easygoing smile she liked so much. 

“Who was she, by the way?” Marinette asked.

“Just some girl from Terminale D. We met at a party last weekend and she got a bit clingy,” Luka said sheepishly, one hand going up to rub his neck.

“That's putting it nicely,” Marinette chuckled.

“Well,” Luka sighed, “I did tell her I wasn't interested in her, so having her still trying to catch my attention was kinda frustrating.”

“Just a little bit,” Marinette teased, pinching her thumb and index together. 

Luka chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Thank you for coming at the right time.”

Marinette giggled, and the uneasiness she felt from making up a lie to rescue him from someone's hold disappeared. “I'll be your fake girlfriend whenever you need.”

You could be my real one.

Luka shook the thought out of his mind. Sometimes the feelings he hid deep down in his stomach made their way back up to his heart, and all he could do was push them down again. They'd already been through this, and Luka was happy with being close with Marinette without wanting more. It was only in times like this, when she was careless and maybe made some stupid choices to help him out (like, for example, saying that she was his girlfriend) that they would resurface.

But he learned how to deal with that. A few deep breaths, thinking about the smell of the Seine, and he would be fine. No more thoughts about being more than friends with Marinette.

They had known each other for years and, now that they went to school together and grew closer, he was happy that Marinette had found he was someone to count on. It was the same for him, even if sometimes it meant that he had to control the impulse to kiss her on the spot or scold himself for staring at her for too long.

The sound of the first bell rang, making Luka wince and Marinette giggle in response. He shook his head, taking a moment to recollect himself and clear his throat before speaking. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Don’t you always do that?” Marinette teased before walking to the door. 

There was only easy chatter after that, and Luka took a breath of relief as he realized he was listening to Marinette without focusing on the way her lips moved or the feeling of her shoulder brushing against his. She was complaining about some group project she had to work on in the afternoon when they reached the door of her class.

“Well, let me know if you need to be rescued again from some overly-clingy girl,” Marinette said.

Luka shook his head, letting out a small laugh. “Of course, I will.”

Marinette smiled at him but, before she could reply, the second bell rang.

Luka's hand ruffled the hair on top of her head, making Marinette wince, and his mouth moved before he could even realize what he was saying.

“See you at lunch, girlfriend.”

[scientia-rex]

I know we all talk a lot, like a LOT a lot, about Fandom Discourse, and nuance often gets lost in the cacophony of extremely loud and incredibly close opinions, but like... I've said before that teenage girls giving grown women shit for being in fandom are mostly enacting internalized misogyny and ageism, like DEEPLY deeply internalized, but also, what do those girls think I was doing at 14? Because I can tell you: it was discovering that fanfiction existed and getting SUPER into Mulder/Scully Romance (MSR, as we called it Back In The Day) and hiding my age from the grown women who were running the show back then so that they wouldn't kick me out for being a minor.

Do the youths think the joy you get from this just... fades? Like the joy of playing with dolls did for me? I remember it, because I was so into storytelling with dolls as a kid. I would take any inanimate object and invest it with a life and a backstory and a complicated love triangle. My MicroMachines were in polycules with my neon green hair tie that had the little marble things at the end. I'm not even joking. And then one day, when I realized I hadn't played with my Barbies in a while, I pulled them out. But I couldn't find the joy. I was probably around twelve or thirteen? Maybe? Maybe even older, because I was in the downstairs bedroom by then. I couldn't find it in me to construct the kinds of stories, richly layered and bizarre to the point of being fundamentally incomprehensible to other people, that I'd loved so much.

I started writing somewhere in that same time frame. It's not that writing made dolls less fun, I just needed a different frame to process storytelling through. Words worked in a way physical objects no longer did.

And I've said this before, too, but: the things you get out of fanfiction change with time. I'm not reading or writing the same kinds of things. Some stories are classics I'll probably love forever, and some I've outgrown. The same way my relationship with any kind of storytelling has changed, I suppose. I watch Clue now, or Clueless, or Police Academy, and I get something very different than I did when I watched them as a kid. I still love them, but the relationship is different.

But many of the things I loved so much about fanfiction are still true. I still get the joy of interacting with characters I already know, so I don't have to spend a lot of time world-building or doing introductions. I get the naughty "woooOOOOOoooo" factor of writing sex scenes. I get to explore the same world through a thousand different lenses--like comic books, where I can push the reset button. What would this person be like in space? In a coffee shop? As a werewolf? What makes this person this person, and not someone else? What are the core, inalienable tenets of their character? How do they look naked? As humans, we are often utterly obsessed with other humans, with ourselves, with what humanity means. That doesn't change. I just look at it differently, approaching 40, than I did when I was 14.

I still get an incredible amount of joy out of fanfiction. The characters I write now get trapped in caves less and see therapists more. They talk about being workaholics instead of falling in instantaneous, electric love by exchanging glances. I have different things I want out of relationships in real life as well as out of relationships in fiction. I want to see how people fit together, how people change over time, how circumstances shape and change us. Fiction is the art of distillation: what is the core of a person? Of a relationship? It doesn't have to be romantic or sexual, but those are highly charged types of relationships, and I like to read and think about them. I like the frisson of a sexual attraction, I like the comfort of enduring love.

You don't have to give up things you enjoy if you still enjoy them past whatever you think the expiration date is. I pulled out my suitcase of Barbies on that last day because I thought, fuck it, I don't care if I'm "too old to play with dolls." It just turned out I didn't get the same joy out of it as I used to. So if your joy fades, sure, look elsewhere for it! But this is a place you can stay.

And you need, need, need to make it a place where others can stay, so don't pull any fucking racist bullshit or I will fucking eat you, don't give me that "safe space" crap if your idea of a safe space means hurting other people.

[daydreaming-jessi]

Day seven: free day

The final beetlelands week piece, made it just in time. Here’s to many more!

It was a bit of an atypical day. Sandy had, for homesickness related reasons, brought a metric ton of Saturn sand to the backyard of the Deetz-Maitland home. Lydia wanted to keep it, because it was sand from Saturn, but the sand had to be taken care of lest it ruin their hard worked upon garden. Adam volunteered to help clean it up while Barbara and Beetlejuice elected to stay in and do some spring cleaning in the attic. Well, Barbara was doing spring cleaning.

Beetlejuice, however, seemed to be determined to distract Barbara from said cleaning. “Babs. Hey. Hey Barbara. Ba-arb, look!”

Barbara blew a distracting strand of hair out of her face, carefully wiping dust off the coffee table while Beetlejuice continuously tried to vocally prod her from the couch. She smiled triumphantly at the pock marks being successfully wiped away. It’s taken her quite a few tries to successfully put proper pressure on the cleaning cloth, but with some practice, it was getting much easier to do.

Suddenly arms wrapped around her hips, startling Barbara into dropping the cloth. She hadn’t even heard Beetlejuice get off the couch. “Bee, I’m trying to clean here. If you’re gonna distract me, then go do something else,” she huffed, twisting her head to glare at the demon grinning up at her.

“But Barbara, I wanna cuddle,” Beetlejuice crowed, yanking them both side to side. He batted his eyes adorably, in the way he knew that Barbara had a hard time resisting.

“We could cuddle sooner if you helped me clean up in here,” Barbara replied steadily, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“You and Adam are such neat freaks. What’s wrong with a few decorative cobwebs? Makes it feel homey in here,” Beetlejuice finally let her go to float backwards into a corner of the attic where a home of spiderwebs lay.

Barbara jolted at the sight of the webs. “Because it shows other people we don’t care about our home!” She said, coming over with a new dust cloth to clean the silk up. Beetlejuice stayed stubbornly in place, forcing Barbara to try and reach around his body. She was quickly stopped by a second pair of arms sprouting out from Beetlejuice, grabbing her hands and spinning her.

“A, who is gonna come see our attic, and dos, who cares what other people think? All that matters is that we look creepy and have an excellent aesthetic,” Beetlejuice said, moving to spin Barbara around the attic. She couldn’t help but giggle at the impromptu dance, partially glad for the distraction.

Cleaning the attic wasn’t exactly necessary, Barbara and Adam usually kept it well maintained, and even Beetlejuice kept from tossing things wherever he pleased for them, but Barbara had been drilled by her parents to always keep her home spotless. She didn’t keep to the part that the task was only a woman’s job, she and Adam shared the work equally, as one should, but it was hard to shake off the rest of the teachings.

The two finally stopped their spin in front of the couch, where Beetlejuice swayed back and forth, his eyeballs actually rolling in his eye sockets. Barbara snickered at his antics, but took a step back. “Alright, enough distracting me, you. I still need to sweep under the furniture,” she said.

Beetlejuice leaned backwards with a groan onto the couch, making it creak and sag dangerously. “You literally sweep up here every two days, Babs. There’s not gonna be anything there to sweep,” he pointed out.

Barbara shrugged self consciously. “It’s important to do, in case there is any dust buildup,” she argued.

“Literally, who cares? It’s under furniture, we don’t ever have to deal with it. You know normal people don’t clean attics, right? Chuck and D aren’t, like, expecting you to clean up here, and Adam has sawdust all over his workstation all the time, he ain’t some kind of neatfreak. You’re literally just doing this for nothing,” he pointed out, shooting Barbara a pout.

She tried to think of a counter, but found she had nothing that would satisfy Beetlejuice. “It’s just something I’m gonna do, alright?” She finally said, turning to grab the broom.

Beetlejuice frowned and crossed his arms and legs, looking like a sulking child. “Fi-ine, whatever floats your boat, Barbie.”

Barbara froze, before slowly turning back to Beetlejuice. “What did you just call me?” She asked, her voice strained.

Beetlejuice shot her a strange look, before answering, “Uh, Barbie..?” Barbara’s shoulders rose up, and realization lit up Beetlejuice’s radiation green eyes, and a grin began to stretch across his face. “What, you don’t like it?”

“It’s awful,” Barbara replied flatly, crossing her arms.

“You don’t wanna be called Barbie?” Beetlejuice cooed.

“Why would I wanna be called that dumb dress up doll brand?” Barbara replied, her cheeks blazing red.

“Holy shit, you hate it! That’s hilarious!” Beetlejuice cackled, falling onto his back.

“What’s so funny? I don’t even look like that doll! It doesn’t make sense,” Barbara huffed.

“Oh my god, I am so using this, this is fantastic! You’re so mad!”

Barbara gasped. “Don’t you dare!”

Beetlejuice paused his laughter and shot her an evil grin. “Oh really? Whatcha you gonna do?”

Barbara pointed a finger at him warningly. “I will not hesitate, Lawrie.”

Upon hearing her nickname for him, Beetlejuice’s grin impossibly widened, cracking his jawbones. It was a strange name the ghost couple had come up with, but he loved how warm it made him feel. Beetlejuice raised his hands reassuringly, looking away innocently. “Ok, ok, I’ll be good. No more of that nickname from me,” he said.

Barbara shot him a suspicious look, slowly turning back to her previous task. “Alright…”

“Yup. Not even gonna think of the word, trust me Barbi-“

“That’s it!”

Barbara tackled Beetlejuice on the couch, tucking his legs firmly between her thighs as she sat upon his lap and the air filled with his crackling laughter. She began to dig her fingers into his sides, making the demon jump from the sudden, tickling sensation.

“Weh-! No! No fair, I can’t actually feel your ghost fingers, no!” He wheezed, trying to shove her away.

“I told you, this is just what you get for not listening!” Barbara grinned, using one hand to clamp the demon’s hands above him, her dancing fingers moving from Beetlejuice's expansive belly to his armpits.

“No, stop! Oh my god, stop!” Beetlejuice howled. He managed to wriggle onto his stomach, but found it didn’t help, as she had more access to his neck, and began to kiss it as she dug into his sides, knowing it was just as ticklish as any other spot. “Knock it off, you wraith!” Beetlejuice wheezed, rolling back to his previous position and shoved his feet to press against Barbara’s chest. She giggled, and lurched forward again, her fingers wiggling threateningly towards his sides.

Beetlejuice pushed her back and Barbara found herself hanging against Beetlejuice’s feet above the demon. “Aw, c’mon, that’s not fair!” Barbara laughed, wriggling against Beetlejuice’s surprisingly strong calves.

“I don’t care if it’s fair, I never play fair, Barbie!” Beetlejuice grinned.

Barbara squawked in mock outrage, making grabbing motions at Beetlejuice. “I will get you back for that dumb nickname, you jerk!” She threatened, her smile wider still.

Beetlejuice laughed at how futile her attacks were, watching her for a moment.

Her blond hair was flying around wildly, roughed up from the play fighting, her face was red and she was huffing, slightly out of breath, and her eyes. They were crinkled up with laugh lines, shining brighter than the surface of UY Scuti, bluer than the depths of the ocean, and filled to the brim with care, and they were directed to him. She was laughing so beautifully, filled with adorable snorts and chortles, it made his long dead heart quiver like it was struck with heart attack inducing arrhythmia. He loved these moments, loved how easy and warm they were. Loved that he was never afraid of her and Adam, never had to hide himself from them. He could just lose himself, freely tease them and just enjoy his afterlife. He loved Barbara and Adam so much…

Wait.

Beetlejuice froze, his face falling into one of shock, and Barbara paused upon seeing this. “Lawrie? What’s wrong?” She asked.

Beetlejuice stared at her for a long moment, his hair starting to darken to a gorgeous magenta she’d never seen before. His eyes traced her face, the demon unnerving,h silent, before blinking out of his stupor.

“I love you,” he said, voice breathless.

Barbara froze, staring back at him in shock. He… he said that. He actually said that.

The door opened, causing the two to look up. “You would not believe how much sand a sandworm can carry from Saturn, I’m more dust than ghost right now,” Adam huffed, patting his clothes down as he came in. He looked up and paused upon seeing the scene, before smiling a fond grin.

“What are you two doing now?” He asked, leaning back and crossing his arms. His hair was highlighted with a warm copper tone, dusted a gray-yellow from the Saturn sands, his body framed by the golden sun filtering through the attic windows. His green eyes were twinkling, so fond and happy of the sight before him.

“And I love you,” Beetlejuice said, his voice in awe at the long known realization finally washing over him.

Barbara whipped her head back around to stare wide eyed at a Beetlejuice again, and Adam nearly choked on the sand still built up in his throat.

Beetlejuice seemed to have realized that the room was now silent. His hair became a flustered pink, white and blue. “I-“ he gulped, pale. He’d ruined it, he ruined everything. He went too fast, veered too far off course, he fucked it all up like he always did-

Suddenly Beetlejuice was almost knocked off the couch with an arm full of Barbara. She had his cheeks squished together and was pressing hundreds of kisses to his face. “Love you too, god, I love you too!” She whispered between kisses, reassuring and happy.

They were both enveloped in Adam’s arms as he scrunched into the couch behind Beetlejuice’s back. He pressed a warm, long kiss to Beetlejuice’s ear, grinning widely. “Love you too,” he added, resting his forehead against Beetlejuice’s hair. Barbara chuckled at his long gesture, before looking back to make sure the other colors were gone from Beetlejuice’s hair.

The magenta was back, and the tension was gone. He looked dazed, but there was a huge, drunk grin on Beetlejuice’s face, looking like he’d just been told that hallucinogens were reintroduced to modern medical treatment. “Cool,” he rasped, his voice somehow even more gravelly than before, and his body was lax. He didn’t need to hold onto the Maitlands tight, they were right here, they weren’t leaving. He had all the time in the world to just soak in their softness.

[parkhabits]

Movie Marathons {M}

Park Jinyoung x Reader Genre: Fluff / Smut / Drabble Summary: Halloween night and all you wanted is to have movie marathons with Jinyoung instead of being dressed up as Minnie Mouse and at a frat party.  

Word count: 4,546

He was irritated. Annoyed at best. His day was draining, his body exhausted physically and mentally. He always looked forward to home. Loved the quiet and comfort of his space. After long and tiring days he loved being able to shut the world out. Especially tonight of all nights while people were out partying and getting dressed up. He found satisfaction in curling into bed and rest. He was about to do just that until his phone buzzed. 

He could have ignored it. Yet something had been gnawing at him all day. The feeling in his gut poking at him to look at the message. 

Y/N [12:08am]: Jinyugkeeee Can you pleade come get me? 

He stared at it blankly. Debating to ignore it. It was apparent you were drunk. The state of your text message proved it. Deep down he knew why he had been on edge all day and short tempered. You had bragged on and on how you had been invited to Johnny’s house for a Halloween party. In fact, you couldn’t stop talking about how you were ready to let loose and unwind after a week of finals. That alone annoyed him. He never understood the need to party in order to unwind. The need to drink to let loose. There were plenty of other ways people could do that. Some that didn’t involve a house full of rowdy guys. He almost chose to ignore it out of spite, until his phone chimed once again. 

Y/N [12:10am]: please?

He was weak. Within two minutes of the last text message he had already grabbed his keys and wallet and was out the door. Abandoning his sanctuary to get you. Why? Because the thought of leaving you stranded there was enough to form numerous scenarios in his mind that made his blood boil and his foot step on the gas faster. 

The air was humid and thick, every inhale filled your nose with the stench of mixed alcohol. You needed air, fresh air as you pushed your way past the dancing bodies, moving past a drunk soldier and a barbie and ken making out against the wall. Side stepping past the boys dressed as ninja turtles who jumped for joy at the beer pong table until you stumbled outside onto the porch. Away from everyone. Rarely had you come to parties like this. It wasn’t your scene, not in your comfort zone. You pushed yourself though, even going as far by making your makeshift minnie mouse costume. Wearing a red skirt and finding the ears from the local dollar store. It was all in an attempt to try and seek attention from the one you really wanted to spend the night with. You had hoped it would have worked, that if you talked about it enough, the details of what to expect that he may have told you not to go.  Suggest doing something else. You felt foolish to think he’d ask you out. But there had been signs. Obviously you interpreted it wrong. 

You liked Jinyoung. Had thought your friendship with him was progressing to something more. There were moments. The kind that had your heart fluttering, the kind where you internally cheered him on. “Do it. Ask me out already,” or “Kiss me you idiot,”. He never did and it only made you feel like the idiot. You didn’t  have the guts to act on it either. You sat down on the steps, looking at your phone. He had seen the messages. Was he coming? What if he wasn’t? 

Your head felt heavy, your face hot and flushed by the alcohol that was pushed on you. Your minnie mouse ears constantly falling off your head. You knew your limit, why were you stupid enough to go beyond that. You rested your head in your lap, ears sliding down once again but this time you decided to just leave it. Waiting for Jinyoung to come. If he didn’t, then the porch seemed comfy enough to rest until you sobered up. There was a sleepy haze looming over you. 

“There you are,” there were footsteps behind you. It was the guy dressed as Fred Flintstone you met and talked to for a bit. “I’ve been looking for you,” he sat down beside you.

“Just waiting for my ride,” you murmur, head feeling too heavy to turn and look at him. 

“Already? The party’s just getting started,” he coaxed, “Come have a few more drinks,” 

You shake your head and even that requires a lot of effort. “I’m done for the night,” 

“It looks like you need to lie down. Come on, I’ll take you to the spare bedroom,” his hand moves to your lower back, and though you think he does it out of comfort the touch has you shuddering out of unease. 

“I’m fine,” you muster up the words and say it as carefully as you can so not to slur. “My ride will be here soon,” You hoped. You weren’t even sure if that were true. 

“Why don’t you lie down while you wait?” He continues to persuade. 

Annoyed and uneasy you stand to walk away from him. When you do, you feel and see everything around you begin to spin. You lean against the railing for support and without fail he snugs his arm around your waist. Trying to shift your body weight onto him so you’d be against him for support. 

“Let me go. I’m okay,” but you weren’t. You felt so nauseous, felt stupid that you had even got to this point. You tried to push against him but were just met with the solid stability of his body. 

“I’ll take you inside -“ 

“Y/N,” 

You look up to see Jinyoung, two Jinyoung’s actually, walk towards you. You smile, “You came,” 

Jinyoung wanted to curse at you right then and there. His hands were bawled in fists at his side. He doesn’t say anything, only walks to you and the dirtbag who had his arms all wrapped around you. He pushes him off you and you all but fall into Jinyoung’s arms instead. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t control it. Your body and mind were disjointed. Though your mind screamed stand up, your body felt like jelly and your legs wobbled. 

Jinyoung sighs deeply. Maneuvering himself to best support you as he begins to guide you to his car. 

“Dude just let her- “ the guy doesn’t even finish his sentence as the ice cold glare Jinyoung sends over his shoulder advised him otherwise. 

“My ears,” you mutter, trying to turn back to get those damn mouse ears. 

“Leave them,” Jinyoung said through gritted teeth. Really? Out of all the things to be concerned about. 

If he had arrived a few minutes later, or worse. If he hadn’t shown up at all. The thoughts sent a rage through him.  If you weren’t so heavily reliant on him for support Jinyoung would have gone back and punched that Fred Flintstone jackass back to the dinosaur era. 

With the world spinning it was finally a relief when you sat down in the passenger’s seat of Jinyoung’s car. Through double vision you watched as Jinyoung rounded his car, saw the furrow in between his brows. He was mad. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him. When he got into the car, he still didn’t say anything. Nor did he even look at you. Your head was still fuzzy, your eyes closing as the silence and the drive tempted you to sleep. 

Jinyoung gripped the steering wheel hard. Focusing his attention to his driving and channeling his pent up anger elsewhere. Images of that guy’s arms around you flashing through his mind. He heard it as he approached the house, that sleaze ball trying to coax you to “lie down”. Whether it was innocent or not that whole scenario didn’t sit well with Jinyoung. From the corner of his eye he glanced at you. Your head was bobbing and he could tell you were fighting  the urge to sleep. Unbelievable. He was angry that you let yourself get to this point. If he hadn’t shown up who knows what would have happened. His blood boiled at the thought, slamming more aggressively on the brake to have you whiplash forward and startle you awake. You glanced at him wide eyed but still he said nothing. Did he have a right to be angry? No. Was it because he was deeply in love with you? Yes. 

“Oh no,” you managed to slur, a bit more alert from the realization. 

“I can’t pull over if you’re going to puke,” Jinyoung said through gritted teeth. 

You shake your head. “It’s not that. I forgot my purse there and my apartment keys are inside,” you explain though you were experiencing some bouts of nausea from the way Jinyoung was driving. 

“Roommate?” 

“Weekend trip with her boyfriend,” you internally curse yourself once again for getting to this point. 

“We’ll get it tomorrow,” Jinyoung says. His temper was too high to turn back. Even the littlest thing, like seeing the jerk’s face could set him off and into a fight. He sighed heavily, “You’ll stay the night with me,” 

You opened your mouth to object. Yet it sounded more like a command than an offer. At least he spoke to you though. Your heart pounded at the thought of staying the night in his apartment. Stomach swirling with nerves, anticipation and alcohol. 

You had been to his place multiple times before. The warm beige walls and chic black furniture. Tastefully decorated for a young man his age compared to the decor you saw at Johnny’s house. During the car ride you thought you had sobered up slightly however the minute you stepped out that proved untrue. The pavement seemed like it dipped with every step, a mix of uphill and downhill. You feel Jinyoung grab your elbow, doesn’t say anything as he guides you into his apartment. 

Suddenly you feel it. The lurch in your stomach. Something you hoped would never come. You push away from him, knowing your way towards his bathroom. As much as it felt like you needed to nothing came as you leaned against his tub for support. The toilet within leaning distance if need be. Now you regretted texting Jinyoung. Just as much as you regretted going out tonight. Your liver probably happy to know that you plan to abstain for a while. You buried your head in your lap, back against his tub as you remained on the bathroom floor. You groan miserably as even the floor seemed to rock, like you were on a boat during the middle of horrible sea storm. 

“Here,” You hear Jinyoung’s voice. His tone is softer now, not as harsh as earlier. 

You don’t want to lift your head for two reasons. First cause you feared any movement would cause the nausea to come about again, and second because you were too embarrassed to be seen like this. 

“Drink some water Y/N,” Jinyoung urges softly. Brushing your tousled hair and taking your hand to hold the glass. 

“I shouldn’t have texted you, but thank you for coming to get me,” you say as you sip the water. You grimace as you do so, your stomach not wanting anymore fluid in it. 

“I’m glad you did,” Jinyoung says as he sits on the floor beside you. 

You look at him surprised, “Are you sure? You seemed pretty mad,” 

“I- uh,” Jinyoung sighs heavily, “Was annoyed at you. Then I was pissed at the guy whose arms were around you,” he explains. 

The feeling in your stomach was good, not alcohol induced. But a giddy, almost excited feeling. “Because…?” you urged for more, staring directly at him. If he let another moment pass then you wouldn’t know what your tipsy self would do. 

“Because I like you. Maybe even more than that,” 

There it was. The confession you’ve been waiting for. Another moment and this time he had actually confessed. “Your timing is the worst,” you groan and let out a laugh as you bury your face in your hands. Jinyoung’s eyes widen. A sense of panic across his face and for a split second he wondered if maybe you met a guy at the party.

“You had to confess to me when I look and feel like crap,” you mutter as you keep your head down. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles and nudges you. “Whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” you tease, “If you would have confessed sooner then I wouldn’t have gone to the party and we could have spent the night in, watching scary movies,  cuddling and making out,” 

Jinyoung cocks his brow, “Well from now on, no more parties, movie nights only.” He smiles. “Very interesting image of a drunk minnie mouse though,” You groan again and Jinyoung laughs. “Come on, you need to sleep this off,” he says. 

“Just leave me here. I can’t move myself without everything around me spinning.”

“My bed’s comfier,” Jinyoung says, and in one easy and quick swoop he lifts you bridal style. 

Your arms wrap around his neck out of reflex as you let out a startled gasp. 

Your back hits the soft mattress. “You’re not gonna stay?” You ask as he begins to tuck you in. 

“I’m a gentlemen who doesn’t get into bed with drunk girls,” Jinyoung smiles.

“Can’t trust yourself?” You tease. 

Jinyoung chuckles, “Can’t trust you,” he pokes. 

You frown, snuggling into his pillows deeper. “I’m good,” you murmur. 

“Sure you are, but I’m irresistible,” Jinyoung kisses your forehead, “Good night Y/N,”

When he left you snuggled into his sheets, your world was spinning. Not because of the alcohol but the elated giddy feeling of having your feelings returned.

There was an incessant ringing. A large buzz pounded away at the already painful sensation in your head. You groaned as you finally registered what the sound was. An alarm clock. Why the hell did you put an alarm for a Saturday morning? Wait a minute, you don’t use an alarm clock. With painful regret you opened your eyes. Your body hurt, your head was a whole other level and the distance of the alarm clock on the nightstand from where you lay might as well have been a mile away. With a groan you reached over and slammed the snooze button before pulling the covers to block out the light. Did you forget to draw your blackout curtains? No, no you didn’t because you weren’t in your room. You weren’t in your bed. You tried your best to recall last night. Halloween, Johnny’s house, the drinks, too many drinks. You sit up immediately. Confirming and registering that you were in fact not in your own room. You winced at the brightness of Jinyoung’s room. Immediately you reach for your phone. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” You cringe to yourself as you read your message to him. 

You look around his room, the opposite side of you remained unslept. Where was he? Was he mad? More importantly, what’d you do? Reluctantly you dragged yourself out of bed and into his bathroom. “Oh god,” you say revolted at the image of yourself in the mirror. The smudged makeup, tousled hair, probably from having to rearrange those minnie mouse ears all the time. On top of that, the smell of alcohol stenched your clothes and made you nauseous. Where were your minnie ears? You glanced at Jinyoung’s shower, hopefully he wouldn’t mind. 

As the warm water washed over your body, relaxing and cleansing away all remnants of last night’s mistakes you tried to recollect everything else that happened last night. Judging you couldn’t find your purse before the shower meant that it was probably left at Johnny’s, hence why you’re probably at Jinyoung’s. What else Y/N? Then you gasped, covering your mouth in surprise as the hazy memories seemed to come flooding in. 

“We could have had a movie night in cuddling and making out,” You could hear your voice so clearly. Did you really say that? 

Because I like you.

You nip your bottom lip. His voice is distant but did it happen? You curse yourself for two reasons. First, if it was true and Jinyoung did confess you hated that you were too drunk at that moment to know now if it were true. Second, what if it wasn’t and now you were left with disappointment. There was only one way to find out you figured as you stepped out of his shower. After raiding his drawer and finding a pair of his sweatpants and tshirt you slowly open the door, peaking your head out to see if Jinyoung was around. It was quiet, however the smell of coffee tempted you to step out further. Your body craving the hot contents to flush away the rest of the toxins and hopefully clear your head even more. 

“Well, good morning,” 

You startle at the sound of his voice and you’d bet money he said it a little louder than usual on purpose to aggravate your headache. 

“Hi,” you basically squawk, turning around to face him. Hungover or not it didn’t go unnoticed just how good looking he was in his grey sweats and black t-shirt. 

“Funny, I remember you wearing something different to the party last night,” he looks you up and down. 

“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing these,” You tugged at his shirt sheepishly. 

“I don’t,” he grins, walking to his kitchen. “Coffee, water, advil?”

You basically groan as you flop onto his couch. “Yes to all three and if you throw in food I’ll worship you,” 

“I’ve got bagels,” He offers. 

“You’re amazing,” you hum as you sprawl on his couch. 

When Jinyoung comes with hot coffee and a freshly toasted bagel you could have kissed him right on the spot. “It’s official, I worship you,” you say with the first sip of coffee. You set aside your food, “Thanks for getting me,” you say bashfully. 

“Hoping it’s the last time,” he says. You nod in agreement. “Cause movie nights in, cuddling and making out,” he teases giving you a nudge. 

You cringe, “So it’s true. I did say that,” You bury your hands in your face. So did that mean? “Did anything else happen?” You prod. 

Jinyoung shrugs, “You tried puking and felt sick. You don’t remember anything?”  

You nod, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. There was also a pit of disappointment starting to form. So Jinyoung’s confession must have been your imagination.

“How are you feeling now?” Jinyoung asks. 

Disappointed. “Good.” 

“No nausea? Don’t feel gross?”

You shake your head, “Nope, thanks to the shower,”

“Sober?” He asks. 

“Completely,” you answer. 

“Good, so you’ll remember this.”

For a moment, you think you’re dreaming or imagining things once again. That you were in fact still drunk. But then his tongue traces your bottom lip, grazing and meeting yours as your lips part in response. Lips moving with his. 

This was real. Very, very real and it was amazing. 

His hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your damp hair. Bringing you closer, the other hand resting on your cheek sweetly. With the slightest tilt of his head he brings the kiss deeper, eliciting the tiniest little moan from you. As the disbelief and first initial shock pass you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, inching closer you’re almost sitting in his lap. Before he draws away he takes one last nibble at your lower lip, both your breaths heavy as you pull away only inches from each other. 

“I like you Y/N,” Jinyoung softly murmurs. His nose nuzzles against yours in an eskimo kiss, “And you better remember that now,” he squeezes your side teasingly. 

You jolt, laughing. “So you did confess. Finally,” 

“Finally,” he agrees, taking your hand in his as he brings it to his lips. 

“So when do you think I should get my purse from Johnny’s?” 

Jinyoung lets out a little sigh with his laugh and you see the glint of amusement in his eyes as he pulls you to him to snuggle at his side. “After a scary movie marathon and some cuddling,” 

“And making out,” You tip up to press your mouth against his, warm and returning. There’s a surge in your belly, beyond the initial giddy feeling previously. You pull away slightly and the feeling in your gut still burns with need. 

You let it simmer. Jinyoung’s arm around you as the rest of the day was spent curling on his couch watching the good old halloween classics. There’s a comfortable silence between you two as you watch, settled in comfort. During the fifth movie you knew he was starting to grow restless as he starts tracing small circles along your shoulder. You try to be engrossed in the movie, pretending to ignore the way he keeps glancing over at you. Gradually breaking eye contact from the screen. A smile tugs at your lips and he catches the subtle way you nip your bottom lip. The simmer that you had earlier igniting into a needing flame. 

“Pretty sure the movie is more interesting than my face,” you tease, keeping your eyes focused on the scene in front of you.

“I beg to differ,” Jinyoung murmurs. “I like what I’m seeing more, less scary.” 

This time you look away from the screen and at him. Jinyoung’s smiling down at you, his grin mischievous, playful. His fingers continue to trace tiny circles along your arm, enticing goosebumps along the surface of your skin. 

“I think I want my shirt back,” Jinyoung murmurs, his hand already moving to the hem of his t-shirt you’re wearing. 

The sounds of screaming from the tv are ignored as you lean up to kiss Jinyoung. Feeling the warmth of his lips move in reciprocation against yours. The warmth in your belly ignites in a flame, moving to your core. Soon you’re moving onto his lap, straddling him. Grinding against him. His hands eagerly moving under your shirt to cup your breasts. His hands massaging and thumbs enticing in circular motions against your aroused buds. Your breaths are heavy, your kisses heated. When he pulls his shirt you’re wearing over your body you moan as his mouth immediately sinks to your breast. You moan, sinking your own lips to his shoulder as you nip. Your hips grinding against his clothed lap even more to soothe the ache between your legs. Feeling him hard under you. You’re hungry with need. Peppering his jaw with kisses, hands fisting in his hair as his mouth devours. His thumbs hook in the sweatpants you’re wearing. Bringing the cotton material down a little.

“Wait a minute,” Jinyoung looks up at you as he discovers something. 

“What?” you say breath heavy. 

He brings the material lower over your hips, “No underwear?” 

You shrug, “I obviously didn’t come prepared to spend the night and shower here,” You laugh at the pained groan that comes from Jinyoung’s mouth as he hoists you up to change positions as your back is now lain against the cushions of the couch. 

“If I had known earlier we wouldn’t have gone through five movies,” Jinyoung murmurs. 

“Nothing stopping you now,” You raise your hips to assist Jinyoung with pulling off your sweats. 

“No, no there isn’t,” Jinyoung looks up from his lash line as he trails kisses down your navel. He sinks down to your core. There was a flash of heat the minute his tongue comes in contact with your clit. Yet it didn’t diminish, it only continued to burn into a pinnacle of euphoric pleasure. Even as your hands fisted in his hair he only spread your legs further apart on the small width of his couch. You felt exposed, so open to him in the middle of his living room yet the way his mouth worked your core had you seeking more. Bringing yourself to grind against his mouth as his tongue circles and dives. Un-relinquishing ministrations of his mouth against your hot and sensitive center. You clenched around nothing, yet you felt everything. 

“Jinyoung,” you quiver. You’re at the edge, so close. You just needed the final push. 

As if hearing your inner thoughts Jinyoung slides two fingers and your heat relinquishes as you come around them instantly. Clenching and coming as his fingers curl up into you. The orgasm everything you had been wanting since you first felt his lips against yours. 

Yet it wasn’t over. Not as Jinyoung kneels up and brings his own sweatpants down then he drives into you. Building you up again. You adjust yourself on the couch, giving him more room to move as he begins his strokes. You gasp as he bottoms out in you, your hands gripping his shoulder to brace yourself. You begin to move as you accommodate to his size. Moving in sync with him as the sounds of both your moans drown out the tv. 

“Wait wait wait,” You say between breaths.

“What?” Jinyoung exhales, “Am I hurting you?” he eases off.

“No,” You prop yourself up on your elbows. “I just want to…” You kiss him softly as your hands press against your chest coaxing him to lay down. You straddle him again, this time taking him in you. Slowly you sink down on his length. Jinyoung’s eyes close, hands finding purchase on your hips. Then you begin to move, bowing up then down on him. You begin to ride him. Slowly at first, testing the new position. Adjusting to him from a new angle as you roll your hips. Hands resting against his chest for support. You arch back, and Jinyoung’s hands caress up your body. Hands back to your breasts. Your movements quickening against him as you begin to increase your pace, moving and bouncing on his shaft as you drive both of you to climax. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, falling forward barely able to keep moving as the pleasure becomes to much to bare. Jinyoung starts thrusting in return, raising his hips at the new angle deep into you. With erratic thrusts both of you cum. You sink back down against him, riding out the last of both your highs before collapsing naked on top of him, body limp and completely satiated. Still within you Jinyoung holds you close, catching his own breath. 

“I hope you’re comfortable because I don’t think I have the energy to move,” you murmur. 

Jinyoung chuckles, his fingers trailing up and down your damp back.  “We can stay like this forever I don’t mind,” 

You smile against him, then let out a low groan as you roll off him with reluctance. Jinyoung adjusts and makes room on the couch as he holds you against him. “Thought you wanted to stay like that,” he frowns.

“We’ll need sustenance eventually,” you curl against him. 

The loud scream on the tv startles the both of you, Jinyoung’s arms wrapping around you tighter in reflex. Both of you glance at the tv as the killer approaches one of the main characters. You laugh, snuggling against Jinyoung once again as both your attentions focus on the scene before you. However, five minutes later your attentions are both directed elsewhere again.  

[artificialqueens]

Girls Interrupted, Chapter 2: She Wants To Dance Like Uma Thurman, But She Can’t (Vatya) 2/2 - Maeve

A/N: Hi, it’s Maeve here, and holy fuck this is long! Sorry for the wait, everyone, it’s been a real time. I’ll admit that I spent a lot of time collecting firsthand accounts of real teen parties because homegirl has never been to one of the cool kid ones. I feel no personal shame! I hope you all enjoy it. I’m a one woman show over here, but I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible with the characterization of the queens. There are some parts of this chapter that might be a little confusing, but that’s because the story is told through Katya’s eyes and she doesn’t always have all of the information. She will soon, though! As always, constructive criticism (really feedback of any kind) is welcome. If there’s interest, I’ll drop my sideblog one of these days. Here’s some petty teenage bullshit to take your mind off of the outside world.

What do normal people wear? What’s ‘in’ with the youths? Katya furrowed her brow. She grew out of following trends in middle school. The clothes weren’t her, and they didn’t magically assimilate her into a friend group either. So Katya was no manic pixie dream girl, more of a manic sexy carny And that was okay…most of the time. There would be a wide variety of teens at the party—Alaska ran in many different circles—but all of them had eyes, and Katya wasn’t about to make Alaska question her judgement over unironically worn Hawaiian print. She’d have to pass for artistically different. Dresses were risky, so Katya opted for a pair of skintight black denim shorts and a well-worn Warner Brothers Studios shirt. A good french tuck and a statement jacket were just enough to polish off her shabby-chic ensemble. It would have to be good enough.

Katya’s freshly washed hair had dried in loose waves that framed her face beautifully. Two things she refused to guilt herself into were shaving her legs and putting on makeup, and she wore her bangs down to hide the hairline she was so self-conscious about. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone. Katya had given up on that a long, long time ago. She glanced at the clock. It was only a few minutes past 6:00. Living in a constant state of perpetual anxiety was a real bitch.

Katya sighed, Wheel of Fortune and Diet Coke it is. Her parents were at the neighborhood’s annual Back to School Barbecue, so she had the entire house to herself. She hoped there would be a familiar face or two—or at the very least caffeine—at Alaska’s house.

Katya could hear the music coming from the inside of Alaska’s house through her massive front door. It was a hot and humid evening, yet Katya chose to linger in the yard. She wasn’t the first one there, and she wouldn’t be the last one, either; there was just something about crossing the solid oak barrier that made her presence…pressing. Awkward, even.

Alaska wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you to be here, Katya reminded herself. She knew this was true—Alaska Honard was an absolute sweetheart—but her paranoia got the best of her. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to ‘Bianca del Realest’:

I’m outside. Walk me in? I don’t wanna know if pigs’ blood comes out of denim.

Her phone vibrated seconds later with a response from Bianca:

Pussy.

Soon, the door opened, revealing a smug Bianca del Rio. Katya grinned, “Yes, I do have a pussy, mama, and I’m serving fish all night.”

Bianca howled, “I don’t put things in me if I don’t know where they’ve been, and you’re a filthy whore.”

“You rotted cunt! That was a rash, not a herpes sore!” Katya protested.

“Just get your ass in here, Zamo, before the neighbors call the police to report a solicitor on the premises,” Bianca stepped aside so Katya could enter.

The first thing she saw was an ornately framed oil painting of Alaska and her family. It had to be at least her height. “Holy mother of pearl…” Katya gaped.

“Mother of Alaska, actually. Father and sister, too,” Bianca corrected. Katya gave her a shove. “What? I do this out of love, honey.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Bianca grabbed hold of Katya’s arm and steered her towards the kitchen.

Alaska’s kitchen—which was a literal gourmet kitchen—was relatively empty save for an entire island of snacks and several coolers with drinks. She could still feel the thrum of the bass in her teeth, but the walls muffled the music’s full volume. What Katya found most shocking was actually who was in the kitchen. Trixie Mattel was leaning against the sink in a pair of light wash jeans and a flowing pink top.

Wow, Katya’s eyes went wide. She was in the same room as Trixie Mattel, about to be introduced by their apparently mutual friend, and she desperately needed to be able to pull herself together.

“Oh, honey, send in the clowns!” Trixie exclaimed, noticing Bianca’s return.

“I prefer to be called an erotic clown,” Bianca shot back. Katya snorted. “This is the creature I was telling you about.” Bianca gave Katya a small shove forward.

“Hi, I’m the chemical burn from the spiral perm, Trixie Mattel,” Trixie introduced herself extending a well-manicured hand. “I sit across from you in English, but we’ve never really talked.”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. But your dad just calls me Katya,” Katya winked and took Trixie’s hand, gently kissing her knuckles. Inside her head, Katya was screaming, Fuuuuuuuck. However, Trixie’s smile only grew. The life-sized Barbie doubled over with laughter.

Trixie turned to Bianca, “I’ll keep her!” Katya scrunched up her nose. She didn’t realize she was for sale.

“Just make sure to walk her often. She’s not house trained,” Bianca warned.

Katya wasn’t given the chance to retort because the door that connected the main room to the backyard flew open, and all three girls reached to cover their ears as Travis Scott’s voice grew three times as loud. An out-of-breath Jinkx Monsoon stood in the doorway, and her mouth began to move.

“What?” Bianca shouted over Sicko Mode.

Jinkx came further into the kitchen and screamed, “I said the hotshots just pulled up! If you don’t wanna get trampled, we should probab—”

“Bottoms up, bitches!” Willam shouted from somewhere in the hall. A cacophony of voices seemed to flood the space all at once, and then the kitchen was swarmed with all of the juniors on the cheer squad and football team. Hands and bodies were everywhere. Katya, standing at 5’1”, was swept away in the sea of future frat boys. Thankfully, the kitchen was only a stop on their route, and once the kitchen had been successfully raided, the four girls could get their bearings.

Jinkx straightened her dress. “Leave. I was going to say leave,” she finished her earlier thought and slumped against the kitchen island. “The real party’s out back. Now with added kegs.”

“Now, this I gotta see,” Bianca chuckled, “You in?” Katya shrugged and followed Bianca and Trixie past the horndogs sucking face in the living room and into Alaska’s massive backyard. She didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into, and she didn’t see it getting any better.

The glass doors let out onto a patio with a cabana and firepit. Stone steps led down to yet another seating area and a resort-style pool filled with floats, fountaints, and colored lights. There must’ve been at least a hundred people outside. She’d never seen so much illicit activity in one place. What was the word? Collusion? Collusion. Collusion vibes but not in a good way, Mama. We’re all going to hell, Katya swallowed thickly. The blonde was overwhelmed by the sweaty bodies, loud music, and flashing lights. Was this what a rave was like? The kegs by the pool were a happening place, and she planned to avoid them as much as possible.

When she looked to her right, she noticed Bianca had slipped away unnoticed, leaving her completely and utterly alone with one Trixie Mattel. Fuck. Again.

“Come get a drink with me!” Trixie insisted. She might not have been entirely comfortable alone with her crush, but tagging along was a significantly better option than hiding in a corner. The two pushed their way towards the booze. Trixie filled a red solo cup for Katya before grabbing one for herself and maneuvering them over to the poolside loveseat.

Katya’s drink felt awkward clutched in her hands. She knew that most highschoolers had experience with alcohol, but it was different watching her peers getting trashed. What’s the point? Katya wondered.

“That’s gonna get warm, you know?” Trixie snapped Katya out of her thoughts.

Katya gave her a sheepish smile, “I don’t really drink. Like at all. I just took it so you didn’t think I was lame.”

“Oh, honey,” Trixie began softly, “I would never judge you for something like that. Here, let me take that.” She made a grab for Katya’s cup, but Katya pulled it away.

“One sec!” Katya stuck two fingers of her free hand right into her beer and pulled them out. She saw the confusion on Trixie’s face and gave her a mischievous look. Katya took her beer fingers and wiped the alcohol across the pulse points on her neck. Playing it safe, she repeated the action until all the places she’d usual spray with perfume were sticky with beer. She was sure she smelled like a distillery. Perfect. Once again, Trixie made a grab for the cub, but another hand beat her to it. Alaska Honard in all her glory snatched it from Katya and drained its contents.

“Thanksss, Kati,” Alaska slurred. “Jus’ needed a lil’ liquid courage before I go on.” She swooped down to give Katya a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Alaska was sloshed. Her makeup was smudged she was swaying on her feet, and she smelled worse than Katya, who had just taken a bath in her beer.

“Go on what, Alaska?” Needless to say, Katya was a bit concerned. Because the two had done most of the work for their partner scene the previous class, Alaska and Katya were able to spend the day’s 3rd period chatting away. The demure girl from earlier was nowhere to be found. She was beginning to wonder if her friend had even processed her question when Alaska finally responded.

“‘M gonna be a star, Kati,” Alaska giggled. “Britney, bitch!” She then proceeded to fist up the fabric at the bottom of her dress and try to pull her black bodycon sequin gown up and over her body. Katya could only watch as she writhed around and made pitiful whining noises in her attempt to undress. “Off!” Alaska pouted, giving Katya her best puppy dog eyes.

Katya shared a look with Trixie before standing up and carefully spinning the blonde around. Her small hands were perfect for pulling down tiny zippers, and the dress slid down Alaska’s lithe body and pooled at her feet. Katya’s throat went dry.

Underneath her dress, Alaska wore a lacy, black strapless bra and a matching set of panties. Katya could not handle it. She didn’t mean to stare, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Soft, pale, flawless, Katya took in the beauty in front of her. Talk about body-ody-ody. Alaska was toned with the supple legs of a dancer—unfortunately, she lacked a dancer’s poise. Katya’s aneurism was cut short when the cheerleader stumbled trying to get out of the offending garment.

“Geez, Alaska,” Katya exclaimed, “Would you be more careful?”

“I may not be graceful…” Alaska trailed off, beginning to sway on her feet.

“I need my Lasky!” Detox shouted from the edge of the pool. Alaska visibly perked at her nickname and gave Katya a sloppy goodbye kiss on the cheek before teetering off towards Detox and Roy.

What the fuck? Katya raised her eyebrows. She turned to Trixie in search of an answer as to what just happened, but all the blonde had to offer was a shrug. Katya looked back to Rolaskatox and noticed a few pertinent details she’d missed in her first glance: Roxy and Detox were also in their skivvies, three chairs were now in a row on the bridge that separated the two halves of the pool, and the music had stopped.

Katya tried to do the math in her head: liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar = ???? She had to be missing something. “‘I’m gonna be a star,’” Alaska had said…Fame = liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar. Katya’s brows knit together. Some kind of performance? And then it hit her. “‘Britney, bitch,’”…They’re performing a Britney Spears number practically naked. Obviously the ideal way to spend a Friday night. Katya could think of no other explanation for the weird happenings of the last few minutes, but the answer she’d arrived at wasn’t any less of an acid trip.

The three girls took their places behind the chairs, and Roxy, who had at some point manifested a microphone, gave pearl a thumbs up.

“Where my party people at?” Roxy shouted into the microphone. Praise Putin for Pearl because the feedback on the mic might have made their ears bleed. The crowd around the pool hooted and hollered. Yuck, Katya gagged on the high school movie realness. “We’ve got a special treat for you tonight! Our little Lasky here,” Roxy pushed Alaska forward, “Didn’t think that she was going to make the varsity cheer team.” Alaska flushed at her friends divulgence and squirmed in her grip. Naturally, Roxy paid no attention to her friend’s discomfort, “So Toxy and I, we made a bet: if Lasky didn’t make varsity we’d have a Golden Girls marathon, but if she did…she’d have to show off her sweet moves at the Back-to-School Bash!”

“Hit it, Pearl!” Detox shouted. Roxy tossed the microphone to someone near the end of the walk, and the three girls took their places by their chairs. Alaska was clearly less thrilled about the performance than she was when she had been talking to Katya minutes ago. Liquid courage? No dice. The instrumental intro into Britney Spears’ “Toxic” began to play from the outdoor speakers, and Alaska’s gyrated her hips mechanically to the beat.

Baby, can’t you see

I’m calling

A guy like you should wear a warning

It’s dangerous, I’m falling

Katya was dumbfounded. Mouth agape, she wondered, Does this shit happen at all high school parties? Mother, I swear I’m sober. She hadn’t had anything to drink, so she couldn’t have been drugged or anything crazy like that. This was, in fact, happening. And Katya had thought she was fucking mental. A glance to her side told her that she wasn’t the only one questioning her sanity; Trixie’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

There’s no escape

I can’t wait

I need a hit, Baby, give me it

You’re dangerous, I’m lovin’ it

Dangerous. There was something sinister about the atmospheric red that bathed the trio and spilled into the audience. Her hands began to tremble. Brenda, not now, she willed herself to calm down.

Too high

Can’t come down

Losin’ my head, spinnin’ ‘round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

It wasn’t just her shaking, though. Alaska’s body was vibrating with tension—not ‘loving it’. Her sisters in scandal moved a lot smoother than she did, and she was concentrating hard on keeping herself from falling off of her chair. How much “‘liquid courage’” did this bitch have? The trio had gotten up on their chairs at the beginning of the chorus and were doing what looked like Christina Aguilera choreography circa Genie in a Bottle. Katya wouldn’t be surprised if Rotox had actually gotten the wrong blonde when choreographing. Katya frowned, Alaska, please don’t crack your head open.

With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride

You’re toxic I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

And I love what you do

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

She regained her breath when the chair acrobatics were finally over. The dance routine had evolved into what could probably qualify as softcore porn. Roxy, Alaska, and Detox were writhing on the platform in an obscene manner. Katya thought they looked like cats in heat. Alcoholic cats in heat. Which was actually quite a shame because real alcoholic cats in heat were something that Katya would totally like to see.

It’s getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil’s cup

Slowly, it’s taking over me

Too high, can’t come down

It’s in the air and it’s all around

Can you feel me now?

Britney Spears you are a cruel bitch, Katya chewed her lower lip. She was trying her hardest not to feel anything.

With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

And I love what you do

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

If she weren’t so put off by the course the night had taken and concerned for her friend, she might have been more than a little turned on. There was no denying that Alaska was attractive—even as she flopped about like a fish on a marble platter—but her mother raised her right. We do not objectify women, and we definitely do not allow others to take advantage of inebriated ones.

Taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Katya had to admit she was impressed. There really was no better way to draw attention to yourself than repeatedly slamming your pussy into the makeshift stage. It certainly seemed to be working now; she might just have to try it sometime.

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin’ now

I think I’m ready now

I think I’m ready now

Intoxicate me now

With your lovin’ now

I think I’m ready now

Roxy, Alaska, and Detox all struck their final poses. Katya could see their chests heaving wildly as they held for the raucous applause of the party guests standing poolside. It was certainly strange, but she couldn’t knock their performance. Kids would be kids, right? She was about to chalk it all up to a bit of harmless fun, after all, when tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber broke formation and pushed Alaska straight off of the platform. Suddenly, the tall blonde was in the water, limbs thrashing about in response to the sudden change in environment.

“Pool party!” Willam shouted, stripping off her own dress. Leave it to Willam to make a splash. Literally. For some reason the most inebriated of the guests decided that it was a fantastic idea to accidentally drown themselves instead of their sorrows. Soon, the pool was full of bodies and she could no longer keep track of her friend.

Alaska finally scampered to the steps with the stability of a newborn fawn. She all but fell out of the pool and took half of the water with her. Alaska’s mascara streaked down her cheeks, and her hair hung limp and matted. Roxy and Detox were nowhere to be found—either to help her clean up or to read her for filth. Coco Montrese and her longtime frenemy Miss Alyssa Edwards, however, were more than happy to fill in.

They sound like those brain dead hyenas from The Lion King, Katya snickered to herself. Maybe not that lady one, though. That bitch was fierce.

Alaska coughed up a mouthful of water right at their feet. “Hey, Coco,” She began, “Your makeup is terrible.” Coco wasn’t laughing anymore. Point Alaska.

“Have you seen yourself, mama?” Coco fired back, The blonde rolled her eyes and snatched the drink in Coco’s hand. Alaska tossed it back all in one go.

“Thanks,” Alaska drawled, tossing the empty cup back and wrapping herself in the first available towel.

Katya turned to Trixie with a question on her lips. “Does this happen often?” She asked. Trixie gave a low whistle.

“Pearl has dragged me to a lot of weird shit, but I think this might just be a first,” Trixie answered with gusto. She checked her watch, “And it’s not even 10:00! The night is still young, honey!”

Right, Katya thought, the night is still young. Just great.

Trixie soon ditched Katya for Pearl—something about the stupid pumpkin carriage coming to steal her friend after midnight—and Katya hadn’t known Trixie long enough to reasonably protest the abandonment. She hoped Bianca was somewhere inside the house.

There were still people in the living room, but it looked like the horny gremlins from earlier had finally gotten a room. Literally. Unfortunately, the cheerleaders that had taken their place were not much better. Head bitch Violet Chachki had her legs draped over one of the arms of a stately armchair in a carefree yet superior manner. Why anyone would want to be queen of the hot messes? Katya couldn’t tell you. But apparently power—or at least the perception of power—gave one Violet Chachki a raging hard on. Gag.

Bianca wasn’t in the room, but the blonde was determined to see her valiant quest through. Hopefully, she’d stumble upon a nunnery with some sexy ladies along the way. Sneaking past the wicked bitch of the west and her flying monkeys, she regrouped in the kitchen. Katya went down her mental checklist: Keys? Check. Assorted limbs? Check. Clothes? Check. Inhibitions? Check. Virtue? Debauched. Sanity? Remaining hopefully optimistic. Bianca? Still M.I.A. The kitchen was empty due to the commotion happening poolside. Chips crunched under the soles of Katya’s sneakers. That was another reason she didn’t enjoy being out in the general public for extended periods of time: bitches be nasty.

The second floor was significantly cleaner than the first. An entire floor of the Honards’ house was dedicated to entertainment. Katya knew that Alaska had an older sister, Nebraska, but she couldn’t fathom why any child—or two children for that matter—needed an entire floor to play. How could the rooms not feel so…empty? Katya wondered, shuddering involuntarily. The blonde couldn’t picture Alaska spending much time up here now. She felt as though she was looking at an abandoned playground and couldn’t help but think it made Alaska sad, too.

After a few moments, it became clear to Katya that Bianca wasn’t there, but she continued to linger on the landing. Her blue eyes were drawn to the set of stairs that would take her to the third floor. It was an idea for the pantheon of bad ideas; she was tempted nonetheless. Katya could hear her grandfather’s words in her head: ‘Curiosity killed the kitty, лисичка,’ What her Deda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, I’m not that kind of pussy, am I? She justified.

Katya crept up to the dark third story of the house with the innocence of an intruder—she’d plead the fifth if necessary. The second door down from the landing was ominously open. Honestly, there may as well have been a big red arrow pointing towards the room because Katya’s feet were already carrying her towards it. Darkness engulfed the room, itself, save for a rectangle of warm light.

“Jinkxy, is that you?” Alaska groaned, presumably from the same direction as the light. “Jus’ leave the dress on the bed. Save the lecture for the morning.”

Katya cleared her throat, “Alaska? It’s Katya. Can I come in?” She received a grunt in response. The blonde followed the sound into what turned out to be Alaska’s master bathroom. Her friend was curled up against her marble tub with a beach towel wrapped around her.

“How was I, Kati?“ Alaska drawled.

Katya took a seat in front of her and pulled her legs to her chest. She thought for a moment before speaking, “80% sexy, 20% disgusting…like me.” Alaska whined. “Why are you still in your wet clothes?” She asked. Her friend shrugged. Right, Katya sighed. Alaska was half asleep; this wasn’t going to be a one woman job. Thankfully, Jinkx appeared moments later with her heels in one hand and Alaska’s little black dress in the other. Katya raised her hands in surrender. “I swear she was like this when I found her,” she blurted.

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” Jinx spoke candidly. She tossed her shoes onto the floor and pulled up her long, red hair. “I’ll wrangle the monkey if you go and find her some dry underwear and something to wear to bed.” Jinkx’s tone left no room for questioning.

Mother, I never thought I’d be a panty snatcher, much less an invited one, Katya made a face. Alaska’s dressers were easy to find, and she felt undeniably dirty as she began her game of panty roulette. Pulling open the first drawer, Katya sprang back, ready to strike. Assorted pajamas were hardly a foe, and she vanquished them swiftly. Rebel athleticwear laid in wait behind drawer number two. They, too, were no match for her feet of fury, Katya kicked the drawer shut with a battle cry.

“Katya, what the hell are you doing out there?” Jinkx called.

Katya had the dignity to look sheepish. “Nothing!” She shouted back. “Be there in a second!” The underwear turned out to be in the next drawer down. She thrust a hand inside without looking and tightened her grip on the first piece of fabric her hand found. Her feeling of triumph only lasted the few seconds it took for her to realize what she’d managed to retrieve: a lacy black teddy. Katya dropped the offending garment as if she’d been burned. I am going to hell, she shook her head, Straight to hell. I will not pass go, nor will I collect $100…Deuces never loses, right? The scarlet thong she fished out next begged to differ. Her face was almost as red as the fabric, itself, when she flung it across the room. Fortunately, the third time was the charm. The pastel pink boyshorts seemed like a more appropriate item to put on a drunk girl, so Katya returned to the bathroom to present her nightwear bounty to Jinkx.

The motherly redhead, unsurprisingly, was not impressed. Jinkx arched a brow expectantly.

“You see,” Katya began, “I wasn’t comfortable—I didn’t um feel right digging through her things without, you know, her permission?” She swallowed thickly. “So I thought maybe it would be less creepy if I just reached in and grabbed the first thing I touched. Well, you see, Alaska’s got such a wide range of tastes, and it-uh…It took a hot second to find something appropriate…for the…occasion?” She was expecting to find disgust when she raised her eyes to meet Jinkx’s, but the redhead cackled loudly instead.

“Lemme guess, you saw something you didn’t want to see?” Jinkx chortled. Katya managed a weak nod. “I’m sorry, doll, I forget that not everyone is as acquainted with Miss Honard’s unmentionables as little ol’ me.”

Not everyone is as acquain—Oh! Blue eyes threatened to burst from their sockets as Katya processed her words.  

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not like that,” Jinkx exclaimed, reading the thoughts reflected on Katya’s face. “Lasky and I did community theater together. I’ve known her since the first grade. Drunk proof her nightstand for me? I’ll dress blondie over here.”

“Does this happen often?” Katya asked Jinkx after Alaska’s door was closed. The incapacitated cheerleader was finally sound asleep in her bed, and the two girls didn’t think she’d be up anytime soon.

Jinkx sighed sadly, “It didn’t use to. Roxy and Detox are more toxic than Drano, and there’s no one to stop her from going out with them. Look, Lasky’s a sweet girl. A good, smart girl. But she makes bad choices sometimes, and there’s nothing that I—that we—can do about it. She’s gotta be the one to say enough is enough.”

Katya understood. Katya understood more than she wanted to. She’d been a shell of a girl drowning in the voices in her head not too long ago. It didn’t matter how many hands reached out to her if she refused to take them. Alaska—happy and hopeful Alaska—might just be drowning, too. Katya wondered if she drank to impress, to keep up, or to forget.

Jinkx promised that she’d look over Alaska until the next morning, so Katya reluctantly chose to rejoin the land of the living downstairs. The first floor was significantly louder than it was when she left it. Games of flip cup and beer pong had picked up in the dining room, and Violet’s flock had not only grown, but had grown to include both Trixie and Bianca, who were trying their hardest not to laugh at the spectacle in the middle of the living area. Willam and Courtney were having a major bitchfest for all to see. Normally, Katya would run for the hills, but if Bianca and Trixie weren’t afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, she figured it was safe enough to stick around and tuned into the conversation.

“Your tone seems really pointed right now,” Willam pursed her lips. She was clearly the calmer of the two, as Courtney was beet red and positively radiating tension. Katya could tell Willam’s nonchalance was only winding the Australian up more.

Courtney folded her arms defensively. “Well, I’m sorry you think that, Willam,” she took a deep breath. “I feel like everything I say kinda comes from the heart, and I’m truly hurt that you threw yourself at Daniel when you knew how I felt about him.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” Willam scoffed, picking at her nails. Her words reflected everything but the sentiment they were meant to.

Katya knew that Willam was a bitch, but this was a little much even for her. Willam and Courtney had been best friends since Courtney moved from Australia the summer of their freshman year; it was hard to believe that Willam would throw their relationship away. Katya held her breath. Everyone in the wings was uncomfortable during the pregnant pause. The scene before her was straight out of a 90s teen movie, and she didn’t have the popcorn to go with it.

All movement stilled when Willam finally looked up. “I tend to think emotions are for ugly people,” she deadpanned. The room let out a collective gasp. Courtney was across the room in a flash, and her palm made contact with Willam’s cheek. It would be logical to assume that Willam, who was just slapped across the face by her best friend, would be the most in shock at the sudden turn of events; it would also be the wrong conclusion. Courtney’s features were frozen in fear. The offending hand still hovered in the air, trembling like a leaf.

Willam was the first to react—and in a very uncharacteristic way. She engulfed the smaller girl in a tender hug. Courtney began to sob muffled apologies into her neck, and despite her obvious desire to recoil, Willam continued to hold her close.

Maybe Willam actually does have feelings, Katya’s eyebrows raised. The sight of Willam whispering words of reassurance into Courtney’s ear was enough to make even the coldest heart melt. Well, the coldest heart with the exception of Violet Chachki’s. Katya was pretty sure the stick up her ass was a permanent installment.

When the two pulled apart minutes later with smiles on their faces, they were met with a round of applause. Courtney wiped at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. If she noticed Willam’s arm around her waist, she didn’t give any indication as she addressed the spectators that had gathered, “Well, I’m gonna need to be less sober before I spill any more about myself. Truth or drink, anyone?”

Truth or drink? No thanks, Katya turned to sneak out. Unfortunately, Bianca had also chosen that exact moment to glance in her direction, and Katya was caught in the act.

“Bitch, you can’t leave yet. It’s not even midnight!” Bianca half whispered, half hissed.

And Bianca doesn’t associate with losers, Katya reminded herself. Don’t be a loser. “If my locker gets filled with worms next week, I will personally marinate you like a chicken,” she promised her friend.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Blame it on Bianca Del Rio. Take a number, sweetheart, you’re holding up the line,” Bianca patted the space next to her on the floor.

Laganja had batted her eyelashes—and used her mouth—to coerce one of the mindless jocks to bring in one of the kegs from outside for their “slumber party secret sesh”. There were fifteen girls, including Katya, who stuck around for the potentially risky game, and Katya wasn’t thrilled to be playing with most of them. Adore finished off her beer and placed the empty bottle in the center of the circle.

“Party!” Adore shouted before giving the bottle a good spin. Around, and around, and around it went before coming to a stop at Coco’s feet. “Miss Coco Montrese, truth or dare?” She asked.

“I’ll pick truth, mama,” Coco answered.

Adore thought for a moment before speaking, “Are you afraid that you’ll always be the runner up?” There was a chorus of oohs. Everyone knew that the race for junior varsity squad captain their sophomore year was a sore spot for both girls. It was no secret that Alyssa was originally chosen to be captain by her teammates. However, when she became implicated in a cheating scandal, Coach Calhoun was forced to denounce her and give Coco, Alyssa’s best friend and the candidate to receive the second most votes, the position. To make matters worse, it was rumored that Coco was the one who suggested that Alyssa had committed academic dishonesty in the first place. Alyssa and Coco had patched up their friendship over the course of the last year, but there was no telling whether or not the structure would hold if tested.

“Out of respect for me and Miss Alyssa, I am going to drink,” Coco responded without hesitance. Adore poured her a shot, and Alyssa gave her hand a grateful squeeze as she tossed it back. “Ain’t no use bringing up what’s past.”

Coco spun the bottle next, and it chose Trixie as its victim. “Truth or dare?” Coco asked.

“I think I’ll pick dare?” Trixie responded with hesitance. Katya didn’t know much about Coco Montrese, but for Trixie’s sake she hoped Coco was one of the nice ones.

Said cheerleader gave Trixie a small and genuine smile, “Okay, mama, I dare you to let Miss Pearl over here do your makeup. Something has got to be done because you aren’t doing a pretty girl like yourself any favors.” The reactions to Coco’s dare for Trixie were mixed. Some of the she-demons tried and failed to hide their amused laughs, Pearl’s eyes opened fully, Violet’s grip on her chair tightened, and Trixie seemed to be not entirely opposed to the idea.

“Pearlie girl,” Trixie began, standing up and crossing to her best friend on the opposite side of the circle, “Treat my face like a princess and then fuck it like a slut.” The life-sized Barbie batted her eyelashes animatedly, earning her a laugh from pearl and a glare from Violet. The ice queen’s elevated irritability prompted Katya to reconsider her previous assessments—maybe it was an entire branch up her ass.

When Pearl and Trixie left, there was a void that seemed to swallow Violet whole. The physical space around her remained largely unchanged, but Katya could feel the emptiness that moved to fill the space Pearl left. And for the first time it occurred to her that Violet Chachki might be alone. I guess there might be some truth to the saying, she mused. After all, if you’re at the top, how can anyone else be? When you stripped away the glitter, the makeup, the clothes, you were left with a girl—albeit an arrogant, entitled, straight up cunt—plain and simple.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?” Bianca nudged Katya’s arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“What?” Katya asked. Had she missed something while she was contemplating the character of Violet Chachki?

Bianca chuckled, “You’ve been staring at Chachki since Trixie and Pearl left.” The blonde feigned innocence. “You know how I feel about that 48 Hours show, Zamo. Share with the class before your peanut brain short circuits.”

“What’s her problem?” Katya whispered. “I mean, aside from her general disdain for anything that has a pulse and moves.”

“With Trixie?” Bianca confirmed. Katya nodded. “Oh, this is old news. Her Royal Hardass doesn’t share, but Sleeping Beauty’s got a soft spot for one Trixie Mattel.”

The dots aligned in Katya’s head once again. “Violet’s the pumpkin carriage!” She whisper-shouted.

“Bitch, that was not English,” Bianca snarked, “You been hanging around with Jose Cuervo?”

Katya rolled her eyes at her friend’s question, “I have ninety-nine problems, and substance abuse won’t be one of them if I have anything to say about it.” She turned back to the circle just in time to see the neck of the bottle stop on Bianca, who didn’t even flinch. Katya was secretly proud; her friend had bigger balls than most of the ‘macho men’ at the party—this was going to be interesting. Since Trixie had gone upstairs to get her face redone, Detox decided that she would be the brave volunteer to issue the next truth or dare.

“Bianca, truth or dare?” Detox asked smugly. Katya couldn’t guess which one would be worse. Unsurprisingly, Bianca chose dare. “I dare you to ask Max for his number.” There was, again, a chorus of oohs, and it was Bianca’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Really, bitch?” Bianca asked. She stood up and righted her denim shorts before striding over to the meatheads playing beer pong with a clear purpose and her head held high.

Because Bianca could run with the boys, no one batted an eye—unless she wanted them to. She hoisted herself up onto the pool table in front of Max and held out an upturned palm. They were too far away to make out their conversation, and Katya was a terrible lip reader at best, but she could picture how the exchange would go down:

“Gimme ya’ numbah, beefstick,” She imitated Bianca in her head. The 1920s gangster voice was a bold choice, but she wasn’t going to mock it just yet.

“D’uhh…okay,” Fake Max droned.

The blonde chuckled to herself as the real Max stuck a fist in the pockets of his jeans and fished around. Finally, he produced what looked like a wadded up gum wrapper and snagged a pen from his pal, presumably jotting down his number. Bianca hastily took the offering and sashayed back to the group of girls. She dropped the wrapper in Detox’s lap before taking her seat by Katya.

While the hens squawked over her success, Bianca leaned over to Katya and whispered, “Never let a bitch see you sweat.” Katya had so many questions, but she wouldn’t be able to ask them until later. It was Bianca’s turn to spin the bottle, and Adore, unsurprisingly, chose truth when landed on.

“Adore, which girl on the squad is the skunkiest?” Bianca waggled her thick, black brows. Because she was the mascot and didn’t change in the locker room, she genuinely had no idea how rank the girls smelled after practice or a game. Sue her; she was curious. What Bianca also didn’t know was that the question had a definitive answer, and that answer would do damage far beyond her intent to poke a little harmless and innocent fun at one of the girls.

Even completely sloshed, Adore recognized the gravity of the question. “Fuck! If I drink any more, I’m gonna be sick,” Adore groaned. Her teammates looked at her with pity in their eyes.

“Yeah but it’s not like anyone’s ever died from drinking too much!” Laganja came to her rescue, topping off her cup, “What’s one more?” Adore could only offer her a weak smile.

“Uh, I think I’m just gonna spin the thing now…For everyone’s sake,” Adore informed the group. The bottle landed on Gia, and she picked dare.

The turns only seemed to bleed together as time went on. After Gia drank from the toilet, Roxy refused to reveal her weight. Laganja told her dad she was eloping in Vegas, and when she spun the bottle it landed on Violet. Because ladies don’t kiss and tell, the brunette tossed one back instead of revealing the number of sexual partners she’s had. Alyssa confessed that she was afraid she would never achieve her dream of owning her own dance studio. Courtney shared that she’d never been in love, and Willam exposed her entire browser history, telling Katya a lot more than she wanted to know about the girl. For obvious reasons, Joslyn refused to eat a raw egg. Detox followed by removing Adore’s socks with her teeth. Katya played it safe and suggested that Bianca would be a bad date because she’s insulting people all the time before daring Gia to reveal any childhood nickname she had. Things didn’t start going downhill until the bottle landed on Violet a second time.

“Violet,” Gia cooed, “Truth or dare?”.

“Truth,” Violet answered with an unreadable expression.

Gia thought for a moment before asking the first truly problematic question of the night, “Who in this room do you like the least?”

Ruh-roh, Katya winced.

Violet didn’t waste a moment before answering, “Willam.” There was a collective gasp across the room. Willam, on her part, didn’t seem to be phased in the slightest. Then again, you could never really read Willam Belli.

Pearl and Trixie returned, arm in arm, before Violet could spin the bottle. Katya’s jaw—along with all the other girls’—dropped. Trixie looked gorgeous. Pearl reclaimed her seat next to Violet, much to the cheerleader’s delight, but brought Trixie with her. At the group’s insistence, Trixie was allowed to take the turn that she missed, and Detox was dared to call a random number in her phone and deliver the worst pickup line she could think of. Katya was glad for the change in the room’s atmosphere after Violet’s confession until Detox took her turn. After the call, Detox dared Violet to spend the next hour trapped in a bathroom with another girl from the circle chosen at random. Anyone who didn’t know Detox might think she was trying to create a seven minutes in heaven type deal, but even Katya could pick up on her intent to stir up trouble. She pitied the poor soul who ended up stuck in there.

Of course that poor soul ended up being her, and she wasn’t about to pussy out in front of the most popular girls in school. Peer pressure was a bitch. Judge, jury, and executioner had all decided it was her time, and she accepted that; she just wished her death march had a better soundtrack. Katya would be cooped up in one of the Honards’ bathrooms with a less than pleasant—soon to be considerably more less than pleasant—Violet Chachki. She was going to punch Detox in her stupid mouth.

Katya entered the bathroom the same way she’d rip off a band-aid: quickly and without much thought for the immediate consequences. Violet, who was perched on the bathroom counter, had been engrossed in her phone when the door swung open to reveal the one girl that she just couldn’t seem to get away from. Unsurprisingly, the cheerleader wasn’t thrilled.

“Really, bitch?” Violet griped, giving Katya a once over. It wasn’t like the situation was ideal for either of them.

Katya put her hands on her hips, “You know what you can suck? My whole dick.” She unenthusiastically plunked herself down against the wall opposite of the door. “We’ve got two options, Chachki, we can either suck it up and spend the next hour in here in silence, or we can French a little.” Violet was aghast at her words. If Katya were a proper woman, she might have been able to hold in the cackling fit prompted by the girl’s scandalized reaction. Violet wasn’t impressed with her wheezing, either. Katya finally calmed down and attempted to explain herself, “Sorry, I could have been more clear, but your reaction was priceless.” She wiped at her eyes. “Thanks. I needed that. Detox said she was “‘feeling generous,’”  and if we so choose, we can suck face and then get the hell out of Dodge.” Violet sneered, and Katya wondered if it was with anger or disgust; she didn’t know which one was better.

“As fucking if,” Violet scoffed, clearly feeling as though Detox’s so-called coup de grâce was more of a personal attack.

“Well, I don’t see anyone lining up to get the kiss of the spider woman, either,” Katya observed. “I told you that you weren’t going to like it.” The cheerleader exhaled sharply, and she was surprised not to see steam come out of her flared nostrils.

Violet pursed her lips, “Just shut up and stay on your side of the room.” With that, Violet returned her attention to her phone, but Katya didn’t fail to notice that her expression didn’t soften. If Katya weren’t trapped in the room with her, she’d probably find Violet’s situation hilarious.

Katya had made the mistake of leaving her jacket—and consequentially, her phone—on the coat rack in the hall. Call her old fashioned, but it was a force of habit. Besides, she didn’t need her phone because Bianca was supposed to be there to pull her out of trouble if it arose. But are we really surprised to find ourselves here? Katya asked herself. No. Not at all. At least she found herself entertaining. Hoping to bring forth inspiration, she laid back on the floor, let her gaze unfocus, and tried to lose herself in the plain ceiling. Katya didn’t know how long she’d been drifting for when Violet’s voice shattered the silence.

“Fuck!” Violet cursed, and the sound of hard plastic hitting the floor made Katya’s whole body go rigid. She squeezed her eyes shut. I am not going to be equipped to handle this, Katya bristled. Maybe if I just keep my eyes closed, I can fall asleep. It seemed like a feasible plan until she heard the first sniffle. Of course I find out she has feelings when I’m stuck in a room with her, the blonde facepalmed inwardly. Why today, of all days, to be railed in the ass by life? Her left eye opened first, searching for any signs of danger before being followed by her right eye.

“I knew you didn’t like me Chachki, but I didn’t think you found me this repulsive,” Katya spoke. “Quite frankly, it’s offensive.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat, but the usual venom in her voice was gone. Katya propped herself back up against the wall to get a better look at the girl on the counter. Her attention was unwanted, and Violet turned towards the door with a huff.

Clearly comedic relief wasn’t the answer. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Katya tried again. No response. The girl’s side profile was growing red and blotchy, and Katya had sent her mom enough photos of her crying to know that Violet was trying and failing to stifle an emotional response. Go figure. “I won’t tell anyone if you cry, you know?” She said softly. “Bottling it up is just gonna make you feel shittier than you do now.”

“Do you think I’m a goddamn idiot?” Violet barked. She wiped furiously at her eyes before whirling around in an attempt to intimidate the blonde. “Better make your fifteen minutes last.”

Katya was genuinely taken aback. Does this bitch really think I’m in on this? She shook her head incredulously. Her airhead friends would literally eat me alive, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t given her any reason to think that I’m faker than Malibu Barbie. If I were made of plastic, why in the hell would I keep my hands this small? “Are we really back on this bullshit, Violet?” Katya snapped. “I’m sorry you think that the universe revolves around you. I hate to burst your bubble, but I have better things to do than conspire against you with your teammates over scones. Get over yourself, Princess.” In her head, Katya blew the smoke from the pistols in her hands. Call me perestroika, Mother, for I am reforming problematic practices, she hooted.

“Whatever,” Violet grumbled. Katya, on the other hand, wasn’t willing to let this go; some conversation was better than nothing.

“How’s the back?” The blonde inquired and was pleasantly surprised when Violet outright snorted at the shift in conversation. Katya took her in as she threw her head back in laughter. There was something about this Violet—the unguarded and natural Violet—that captivated her. Violet’s eyes crinkled, and she clasped a hand over her mouth in a flimsy attempt to stifle the noises she was making. It was frustratingly endearing.

Violet cleared her throat before answering, “Fucked. I’m considering outlawing acrylics on the squad. That shit’s not even practical for a cheerleader, and it’s hurting like a bitch to corset.”

“You’re wearing a corset?” Katya gasped. For the first time that night, she took all of Violet in. She wore a nude illusion dress with a loose black lattice pattern. It covered just a little more than her ass and was cinched at the waist with a rocker belt, squeezing her in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. How in the world do you hide a corset under that? Katya wondered. In addition to the dress, she donned thigh high, slick black boots and a thick, black leather choker that looked more like a collar. Hot damn, Katya could n e v e r, and she knew it. She finally composed herself, “First of all, you’re literally a cheerleader with a body to die for. Second of all, why wear something that hurts you?”

The cheerleader didn’t even seem phased by the inquiries, almost like she’d dealt with them hundreds of times before, “Pain is beauty, and I’m the prettiest.” Katya couldn’t argue there. Violet was beautiful, but she still thought her ideology was questionable.

“So what actually happened at the pep rally? We all saw you fall, but I’ll believe it was your fault when the garden is full of ducks holding pastry in their hands. You’re too much of a hardass.”

Violet raised her eyebrows, as if daring Katya to say it again, “I will let that slide only because it’s technically a compliment. And you’d be correct; I am a professional, unlike others. You’d do well to take note: one of my biggest pet peeves is when people don’t take the things I love as seriously as I do. I accept nothing less than perfection.”

“That must be lonely,” Katya couldn’t stop the words from spilling from her mouth. “You know, having such high standards? Does anyone ever make the cut?” Opening her mouth was clearly a mistake because Violet seemed to shut down all at once.

“What do you know about how I feel?” Violet fired back, crossing her arms over her chest.

Keep digging yourself deeper, why don’t ya? Katya shook her head. She needed to tread carefully. It was a miracle that she had even been having a civil conversation with Violet in the first place, and she didn’t want to ruin the progress they had made. “I know that you work harder than anyone else on that squad, and nobody gives you credit or appreciates you for it,” Katya began. “I know that people are fast to discredit your talent because of how young you are. I know that you’re waiting for the day those bitches stop hoping that you’ll screw up or get hurt, the day you can finally stop looking over your shoulder, the day that you no longer have to prove yourself. I know that you’re tired of fighting tooth and nail for the respect that you’ll probably never earn, and I know it’s fucking hard for you to pretend that your peers aren’t harboring resentment towards you. I know that at night you try to wash it all away because you’re still holding out hope that it will all be worth it in the end. Cheer and theatre aren’t that different. It was obvious in the gym, and it’s obvious now.” Katya took a deep breath. Maybe she’d been thinking a little more about Violet that afternoon than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent like that, but she certainly didn’t regret what she said. Based on Violet’s reaction, however, maybe she should have. The brunette’s hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Katya tried to backtrack, “Violet I—”

Katya was cut off by the bathroom door swinging open. Pearl, who stood oblivious on the other side, immediately noticed the state of her friend. “Vi?” Pearl approached her hesitantly. Violet’s gaze didn’t move from the floor. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” She moved to lift Violet’s chin up, but Violet recoiled from her touch.

“Don’t touch me!” Violet shouted, her voice almost frantic. Katya’s eyes darted from one girl to the other. Pearl, who was visibly shocked by her reaction, looked hurt, which was very uncharacteristic for the mellow girl. Katya, herself, had never seen anything but characteristic nonchalance reflected on Pearl’s face, and the change made her uneasy.

Pearl took a reluctant step forward and spoke in a whisper, “Violet, did something happen? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Is that the truth, Pearl?” The brunette questioned. “Because clearly I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

Pearl shook her head in frustration. “Cut the crap, Vi,” She demanded, “You’re literally my best friend, and—”

“Bullshit!” Violet interrupted. “I call motherfucking bullshit!” Both girls were standing now with less than a foot between them, the situation escalating by the second, and Katya was stuck in the middle of it. She tried to push her back further into the solid wall behind her, but there was nowhere for her to go. Fuck me! Katya grimaced. Why is Toxic so damn appropriate right now?

“What the hell, Violet?” Pearl shouted back. “God, you’re fucking impossible.”

“Fuck you, Pearl!” Violet pushed Pearl, and the blonde hit the wall with a dull thud. “Fuck you! You and I are done! You hear me? Done! Save your goddamn lies for that pathetic dress up doll. I never want to see you again.” With a huff, Violet stormed out of the bathroom, leaving an uncomfortable Katya and a drained Pearl alone. What the fuck just happened? Katya tried and failed to process the encounter.

She was caught off guard when Pearl finally acknowledged her presence. “Forecast predicts drinking to forget,” Pearl deadpanned, nodding her head towards the door Violet had just stormed through. “Want in?” Katya shook her head furiously. Getting piss drunk with those two would be like making smalltalk with a Molotov cocktail. She’d pass. She’d pass hard. Pearl seemed to understand. “It’s flazéda or whatever,” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Just do me a solid and remind me to fuck with Willam’s weed on Monday.”

Katya didn’t know what “‘flazéda’” meant, or the why and how of Pearl tampering with Willam’s weed, but the questions weren’t enough to persuade her to stick around the party longer. When Pearl left, Katya made a run for the Honards’ front door. She grabbed her jacket before taking off down the street. The blonde didn’t stop until she could no longer hear the music pulsing from the house. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from ‘Bianca del Realest’:

Bitch, where are you?

What the fuck happened in there?

Earth to Yekaterina?

Katya sighed and pocketed the phone again. She’d call her when she got home. That would buy her some more time to put the experience into words…and to decide just how much information she should share.

The drive home from the Honards’ was quiet—too quiet. Music normally made being in the car enjoyable, but there was something about the night that didn’t allow Björk to keep her out of her own head. It didn’t feel real, and that terrified the shit out of her. Life was monotonous, life was mundane, life was one of those stupid time loop movies where you had to learn from your mistakes over time and find out what was important in the stupid haystack of chaos. Violet Chachki and her ex best friend potentially ex best friend were not supposed to have the Chernobyl of all relationship meltdowns in Alaska Honard’s guest bathroom right in front of her. Katya didn’t know who opened this tragic can of worms, but when she found them, she was going to slap a bitch silly.