#you ever think about the fact that bianca preferred to stop completely existing before waiting for Nico and nico knows it

[ladynicte]

Nico who has been deified after his death. Nico who's sure, after all this time, he's finally managed to let go of his older sister's death, of course, it still hurts, and of course, he will never forget her, but that fiery hatred and overtaking sadness, has finally been put to rest.

Nico knows and understands that his sister chose to move on without him, and that's okay, no it's never gonna be okay but he's made his peace with that too, and now, that he's an inmortal himself he never expects to see Bianca again.

Nico lives easy. He works for his father, he sleeps for a couple decades at a time, sometimes he goes back to Camp, takes care of some kids during their quests here and there, but for the most part, he's a chain-free roaming God.

And then, one day at Camp Nico meets her, a tiny little girl, with how long he has lived, time has become almost impossible for Nico to really track down anymore, but he's sure this girl can't be more than 10.

And something about her eyes, her dark, void-like eyes, and her long black hair, and her proud stance. It really reminds him of somebody else.

The girl is all alone, no little brother or older sister of her own, no parents either, apparently, she's a child of Hekate, but that really doesn't matter.

Something about the girl's every move, about the way she approaches the darkness without fear, about the way she approaches him, like she's known him all his life, the way she uses her whole body when talking.

It reminds Nico of Bianca. This girl's soul is just like Bianca's.

And Nico supposes it's no longer a fatal flaw, but he still doesn't know how to let go.

Nico immediately claims her on the spot, lets her sleep on the Hades Cabin, helps her out with everything, takes care of her for years and years.

It's the first time in centuries, that Nico as a God feels connected to his mortal side.

When the little girl cuddles against him, because she's had yet another nightmare about manticores and huge robots, while Nico quietly tries to hug her, and reassure her she's going to be fine, he even starts thinking that maybe his family has grown, yet again.

And then, she's send off on a Quest, Nico loudly protests against it, because he knows how those end.

Because, he still remembers waking up screaming and trashing, in the middle of the night, inside the Hermes Cabin, surrounded by strangers and shadows, as he felt Bianca's soul perish away.

But it's no use, the Oracle of her time had already issued her prophecy, this new girl, Rachel having long since passed away, who Nico feels almost comfortable cursing in the spot, just like his father had done so many centuries ago.

The little girl leaves, and Nico now has nobody to swear to keep her protected. Nico knows it's useless to try to convince her to stay, but he still does, it doesn't work, it never has worked

But truth is, she doesn't even look scared.

She's excited, and ready, and determined, and Nico has to wonder if this is how Bianca looked like, during her last week on Earth, too.

The girl leaves and she doesn't come back.

Nico thinks, it should be easier by now. It isn't, it's never gonna be it

Hades catches Nico roaming mindlessly around Elysium, after noticing his absence from The House, for what's either days, or years.

Hades mournfully reassures Nico that Bianca is not there anymore. No, not this time, not last time, not next time either.

After that, Nico chooses to abandon Camp fully, once again, he doesn't come back for another few centuries, until Hermes asks him for help getting his children to satefy at Camp.

Nico swallows the bile, that he's sure a Godly body like his own, shouldn't be able to produce anymore, shakes Hermes's hands, and tells his cousin his children will make it through, just fine.

Nico rescues the kids, regretfully send them off to live all cramped up together at their Father's Cabin forever, but one of the boys of the bunch, just has such dark eyes, like a black hole consuming souls.

And he stands so proud, and Nico just knows once more, and all at once, because he would recognize Bianca's soul anywhere.

In life, in death, at the end of the world, in a Hekate's daughter, in an Hermes's son, it doesn't matter, the person standing in front of him, is simply Bianca in another skin.

Bianca, being a wild hero once more, and Nico has to wonder if she can see him as clearly as he can see her.

Bianca is the only one after all, who has known him all his life, Bianca knew his name before it was even his own. Nico was born knowing her.

If she can see him, or if she can't, Nico doesn't even know which one would hurt more.

Time passes, and if Nico let's the boy sleep at the Hades Cabin, because the nightmares about manticores, giant robots, and magic are too much to bear, and he can't even scream in peace inside the Hermes Cabin, well, that's only Nico's own business to know about.

Nico realizes, after a few ages of Godhood, that The Fates like repeating their own stories.

Nico knows he hates all of them, deeply and purposefully.

The Oracle comes up to the boy, Nico is sure she must be a new girl, but all the girls Apollo chooses all look the same, and she is the same, she gives the hero the prophecy that will bury him.

And, it doesn't even take Nico a glance to know, that this is where that boy's life thread is cut.

Nico wants to sneer, this would be Bianca's third death, and if a hero dies three times they get the special prize, and yet.

Nico begs the boy to not go, because they both know he's not gonna make it back.

Bianca never has. Bianca never does. This is Bianca's fate. She was already dead before the story even began.

But the boy doesn't even break eye contact with Nico, as he tells Nico that he's very kind, and that he loves him too, but no way.

He's gonna go, and so, the boy does.

The boy leaves and he doesn't come back, and Nico has to crawl at his Godly skin, and remember the sensations, of back when there was human flesh, and blood running through his veins.

And that's just the thing isn't it, that Bianca is never going to stay by his side, because she doesn't want to.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt.5 (E.D.)

Summary: Three weeks later, Ethan and Y/N are in very different mindsets and while Grayson and Ethan had a heart to heart and promises were made, Grayson breaks a few

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, talk of depression, the end might be triggering and it contains depictions of blood

Word Count: 3000

Hurt - Series Masterlist

Ethan sat across from his therapist, glancing at her once or twice uncomfortably. His fingers grasped the leather chair with more force than necessary, his nails clawing at it unforgivably in a need of release - pent up anger and sadness mostly directed toward himself, it all needed a vent to come out.

“I called Grayson.” He sighed, looking down at his bouncing knees. He didn’t even realize he was doing it before, making a conscious decision to stop with the annoying habit.

“You came.” Ethan sprang to his feet, greeting his brother like an old friend. It’s been a while since they’ve hugged, let alone been civil to each other for any matter aside from work. Two months to be exact.

“Of course I did. Is she okay?” Grayson tapped his brother’s shoulder, relieved he had been on his mind long enough to make the list of people he’d call. While he had been extremely angry and disapproving of Ethan’s actions, Grayson still adored his brother more than anything. He just hoped he’d get back to some form of sanity where he could get to him.

“She’s, uh, in there. They won’t let me see her. Which is for the best, really.” Ethan folded his arms over his chest, something to hide his shaky hands from Grayson. Being open and vulnerable about his state of mind has never been easy for Ethan. He had a tendency to bottle things up and explode like a ticking time bomb. But now that he’s seen the damage, he had to come clean.

“She’s also pregnant, I think. I’m not sure, I heard something.” He added, noticing Grayson’s dumbfounded look. Grayson looked like he needed a seat himself, struggling to decide whether or not to be happy about being an uncle or devastated the baby would be born in a broken marriage.

“I broke things off with Bianca. Think I might need an assistant again. And someone to cover for me at work because I…I’m going to check myself into a mental institution. Tonight. Now.” Ethan knew he was throwing too much new information at his brother, but he needed to bring him up to speed before he took the plunge. He had to know his Y/N would be taken care of properly in his name.

He wasn’t a fan of doctor Henstridge, but the man had a point. Y/N is in a horrible position now and the pregnancy makes it even harder. If he wants her safe, he needs to remove himself from the equation for a while. Just enough to heal himself. Just until he can start thinking straight and make good decisions for the future.

“I think I’m going to lose it.” Grayson reached for his inhaler, in need of a breath he couldn’t seem to find on his own as his heart beats wildly fast and his lungs constricted painfully.

“It’s bad, Gray. I can’t be a good dad or husband when I can’t even help myself. I’ll go, do the work and the moment I’m out I will grovel for forgiveness.” Ethan leaned into his seat, tears pooling in his brown eyes - the color Y/N never knew she could love so much or that she’d look for in every man’s eyes, but the shade was never quite right as it was in Ethan’s, undeniably more attractive and enticing than any other brown eyes she had ever seen.

“I’ll take her home with me. Clara will know what to do. They’ve always been close.” Grayson spoke slowly, unsure what to say about his brother’s decision to check into an institution. On one hand, Grayson admired his bravery, on the other, he feared it. The first time around, they had both been in the darkness. They had each other and somehow they made it through. But for Ethan, his proud brother, to decide he needs inpatient treatment? That was terrifying.

“If she asks, tell her I’m in Australia for business or something. Just don’t tell her the truth.” Ethan swiped his thumb under his nose, sniffling.

“Why? Why don’t you talk to her? Clear the air before disappearing for a minimum of two weeks?!” Grayson raised his voice which got him shushed by nurse Jackie immediately. He nodded as if to apologize, returning his attention to his broken brother.

“No.” Ethan was sure of his answer.

“What I did comes with consequences. I can’t just walk in there and tell her I’m a depressed fuck-up who left her for someone else who I knew wasn’t right for me all along. In fact, I wasn’t even going to leave her that day. I just wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to be honest and tell her I love her more than anything but I thought I felt something real for someone else. I had no intention of acting on those feelings and I was going to tell her something wasn’t right with me, but she got so angry.” Ethan paused, his lips quivering. Hoping to hide his fallen defenses, he ran a hand over his chin, covering his mouth as he continued.

“She got angry and she didn’t want to listen. Then I got angry and I let her lash out and I let her walk away thinking she would be better off anyway. It’s still on me. I let her walk out. I wasn’t completely open with her. My choices hurt us and I refuse to use my depression as an excuse, a hook to draw her back in based on guilt and worry.” Ethan stood, walking over to the door that separated him from the love of his life who had fallen asleep with the help of a mild sedative, unaware of his unraveling in front of her room.

“If she ever takes me back, I don’t want it to be because I’m fucked in the head. I want it to be because I made some kind of a redeeming decision that had benefited her and our child.” Taking in a deep breath, he turned to Grayson.

“I love her more than anything. I’m not dragging her down with me. So you take care of her for me, okay?” Ethan smiled meekly as he stepped closer to his brother.

“And give her this when you deem she’s able to take it.” Ethan slipped a piece of paper in Grayson’s hand before turning around and walking out.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Ethan’s voice breaks and his psychiatrist nods. She already saw progress in him, even if it’s been just three weeks. She believed her client would be okay eventually, that he’d heal. He would find a way to return to society in time.

“Everyone manages their depression differently. Some keep pretending nothing’s wrong and just go through the motions. Others manage to burn their life to the ground…some take other’s down with them. I’m proud of you and the decisions you’ve made. You were selfless, you cared. But you will need support to claw your way back up.”

Meanwhile, Grayson had done as Ethan asked. It wasn’t easy, but he had convinced Y/N she could trust him. She didn’t mention the possible pregnancy Ethan did, but it didn’t stop Grayson from acting like an overprotective proxy for Ethan.

That day, Grayson waited until morning for Y/N to wake up before coming into her room. She was awake and talking, a faint smile upon her lips and he knew she was doing better. She wasn’t well versed in faking emotion, one of the things he loved about his sister in law. She was always honest about her heart and Grayson always knew what to expect – no hidden motives, what you see is what you get.

“I was worried sick, but you seem to be doing well.” Grayson cleared his throat, eyeing the blonde man who was talking to her way too closely considering his position. This doctor had crossed boundaries and Grayson didn’t quite like it. There’s a reason ethics exists and there’s a pretty solid rule on having a professional relationship with your patients.

“Gray?!” She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her eyes wide and locked on the door behind her brother in law. It’s as if she was waiting for Ethan to come in after him, to ask her to talk to him or clear things. For some ungodly reason, Y/N spent the whole night dreaming of Ethan coming to her rescue. In her dreams it was all perfect as it used to be – her Ethan being as kind and as gentle as he was when they met, as adventurous and sweet as he was in their relationship, as loving and romantic as he was in their marriage. She missed that version of him terribly.

“I’ve been called as next of kin. Wanted to bring you home. Clara can’t wait to have your around more and the kids are already decorating the guest room.” Grayson smiled, stepping closer to her bed with a quick glance at the doctor who kept a close eye on him. It’s evident the doctor doesn’t trust him, probably assuming he’d just take her back to Ethan, the bad guy in his mind.

“Oh. I can’t. You know I can’t.” She heard her voice crack, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself together. Going to Grayson’s meant seeing Ethan and she didn’t know if she wanted to. Her subconscious seemed to urge her to see him, but her conscious wanted her as far as possible. Her brain would remind her of the pain inflicted upon her by his careless words and traitorous actions and she was scared of feeing anymore of it. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and while she was dancing on the line between the two, she preferred to hate him for what he had done. It’s much easier to hate him than love him, because if she loved him still, she’d have to hate herself. So, yes, to love herself, Y/N had to hate Ethan.

“He’s gone to Australia. You won’t even see him. He’ll be gone for a while.” Grayson reassured her, noticing her features fall but a curt nod followed.

“Great.” She piped up, turning to doctor Henstridge. “I supposed you can get me discharged then?” Her lips curled up at the corners, managing to get a prompt response.

“Yes, of course. We still have to talk about –“ Edward cleared his throat awkwardly as he glanced at her belly only to resume eye contact a moment later, “your, uh, situation.”

“Situation?” Grayson cocked his head to the side, hoping she’d tell him of her pregnancy. However, all she did is smile up at him – she wouldn’t lie to him, but she wouldn’t tell him anything just yet. It didn’t feel like the right time.

“All in good time, Gray.”

Grayson kept a close eye on Y/N, feeling his anxiety grow as he pulled his wife aside for a quick question.

“Did she tell you anything?” He spoke to Clara, but he didn’t even look her way. No. Grayson’s eyes have been trained on Y/N since he brought her home and while she spent most of her time with his kids or on that porch swing he and Ethan built for Clara in their house. Ethan had talked him into building a matching one on his porch as well, mostly because Y/N was the reading type and he insisted he wanted her to have a porch swing.

She would sneak a peek at her porch swing from across the river, back at the house she and Ethan designed themselves. It was on the same property as Grayson’s house, separated by a river and a small woodsy area, two minutes away and very visible from her current position. It looked the same, as if it wasn’t the place her hopes have burned to ashes.

“You really want to live in the middle of nowhere?” Ethan questioned, his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, securing her to his body as if she were a balloon and she could fly away from him any second now. She placed her hands on his arms, drawing in a deep breath as she stared at the old house that definitely needed fixing up and vision, but she had it. She knew that the house had potential even if it was a rubble. He didn’t know it then, but when they met, she could still see his rubble. Despite what he thinks, she loved the rubble and she loved every crack because she saw the potential beauty behind it. And she believed that in this moment, as they were talking about buying a huge property with his twin brother, that the potential beauty she saw had truly come to life.

“It’s big and Grayson could get the one on the other side and you’d still have your own place but also your brother whenever you wanted to.” She turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck loosely.

“I dream of us starting a big family on this property. I can see the porch swing you’d make Grayson build me, the bay windows, the swings we’d get for the kids and the trampoline because you want to have one despite your age.” She smiled as he chuckled, aware he’s on board with the plan.

“Little Ethan and Y/N running around, driving us nuts.” Ethan licked his lips, his eyes glued to hers as if there was nothing more important in the world but the way she made his heart beat whenever her eyes bore into his.

“I love the vision as long as I’m part of it.” He decided, leaning in to press his lips to hers.

She could almost taste his lips as the memory had faded, catching a sob in her throat before it sounded. Every moment spent together was now a painful memory. They are sharp, and cut right through her she thinks about their past. Even the sweet good moments they had are now turned into a knife that kills her already broken heart.

Ethan had pierced her soul; made her skeptical about people and love. And she can’t help but hate him. She fucking hates him for that, for turning her into this broken mess, and even if she never saw him again, his touch will be with her for years, or maybe for the rest of her life, who knows. But she will see him again. She felt it in her bones. After all, she was to bear his children and she had decided she wouldn’t hide it from him. He’s an asshole, but he deserves to know he’s going to be a father.

“I’m sure he’ll love you guys. I’m sure he’ll be a bit shocked about the numbers, but he always said he wanted three kids. I guess that’s going to be something he can cross off his bucket list now. Unless Bianca gives him more.” She sighed, shaking her head to stop the thoughts from overpowering her.

“I never expected to have three at once, but at least I can close shop after.” She chuckled, wiping a persistent tear off her cheek as she placed a palm over her lower abdomen, unaware she’s no longer alone.

“Three?” Grayson breathes out, holding onto the porch swing as he lowers himself on his knees, half out of his mind. That’s something he didn’t see coming. He expected one, but three? He wondered if Ethan knew. Or if he didn’t, would he have done the same if he did?

“Please don’t tell him. Let me.” Y/N turned to Grayson, her lips pressed together in a thin line as she pleaded.

“I won’t. But…you should know he and Bianca aren’t together and from what he last told me they never will be.” Grayson wanted to at least open the door for his brother to have a place to come home to once he returns. If he couldn’t tell her anything else, he’d do this for them both. A small act of kindness.

“Wha-what the hell do you mean by that? Because he told me he loves her.” Y/N stood, her insides shaking – from pain or anger? She couldn’t tell.

“He said he never wanted a divorce. He thought he felt something for her, but he said it was just the mist of their past clouding his judgment. He wouldn’t have acted upon his feelings, but you wouldn’t hear him out and you left him, serving him with papers a month later.” Grayson defended his brother only to receive a scoff in disbelief on Y/N’s side. She felt herself shake, certain she’s enraged this time around.

“I WOULDN’T LISTEN?” She was losing control once more, her head pounding. “HE TOLD ME HE LOVES SOMEONE ELSE AND THEN HE LET ME SIT IN AGONIZING SILENCE AS WE WATCHED YOUR KIDS!” It felt like her throat would be scratched raw by her shouting, but she could care less. She was brought back to the edge she thought she walked away from and it threatened to make her fall again.

“I can’t believe the crap that comes out of his mouth.” She giggled, but her giggle quickly turned to a sob as she clutched her stomach. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out, doubling down.

“What’s happening right now?!” Grayson jumped back to his feet, his arms open to catch her if she falls. He couldn’t tell if this was a real emergency or her simply trying to find a way to process what he told her.

But Y/N didn’t even think about Ethan right now. She felt something warm…something liquid come out of her. She felt herself growing faint for when she opened her eyes, blood began to drop on the porch and she didn’t need to check to know where it’s coming from.

She didn’t hold back her tears any longer.

“I think I’m having a miscarriage.”

Tags: @melodiesforari @brittttneyyyy @beautorigin  @dolandolll @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @ethanhes @lanadeldolans @ebbach-03 @dolangels  @xxaamzxx @cutestdolans @yaren-ates @dolansmith @vintagebitttch @primadolangirl @caqsicle @jjustjoy @justordinaryjen @graydolan12 @imaginashawnns @graysonslovie @fandomsfeministsandothershit @bdsmdolan @graysavant @ethanspillow @dopedoodes @anything-dolan  @sugarfootdolan @joyrivh​ @reblogserpent​ @jonesana​ 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 4 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Thank you so much to anyone who’s liked or commented. You guys are awesome! We are attempting to post a chapter a week, so hopefully we can keep that up for awhile! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet’s living situation was about to improve, and she got to spend some quality time with Pearl.

This Chapter: Fame begins to doubt the new collection, and Violet finally gets into her new apartment--with some surprising new neighbors.

***

Fame groaned as she finally managed to open the front door to the Galactica floor after fumbling with her keycard for what felt like forever.

The floor was dark, but as Fame walked past the reception desk, the automatic light turned on.

There was no one there, all of the employees at home since it was barely past 7 am. Fame didn’t usually show up until after 9, having her mornings with Patrick and walking her dog herself an important part of starting her day right, but sometimes Fame preferred the quiet.

There was a certain peace in an empty office, and she desperately needed the peace.

She walked down the corridor, passing by the ever-expanding clothing racks that seemed to grow like cockroaches on the hallways, someone always working on something in one of the offices.

Fame was normally not one for contemplation, her heart always telling her where to go, but what she had seen of their own collection yesterday had left a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She had been so happy when they had conceptualized it, had been so excited to see it go into production, but now that she had it, now that Trixie could present piece after piece of physical clothing, Fame had a nagging feeling that it was not good enough, not good enough at all.

She turned the corner and stopped when she saw that the light was on in her office and the front office where Violet resided.

As she walked closer, she saw Violet sitting at her desk, steam coming from a takeaway cup and Fame recognized the vanilla scent of her morning order. She had actually wondered how Violet always had a hot cup ready, and it seemed like the clever girl simply ordered multiples every single day.

Violet nibbled on an apple, her feet tucked underneath her as she tapped away on her keyboard, the printer spitting out a chunk of paper every once in a while.  

Before Fame knew it, she had spent several minutes just standing there, observing Violet go about her workday before anyone else had even come in.

Just then, Violet looked up, almost dropping her apple when she saw Fame standing in the door. She jumped up from her chair, and Fame had to hide a smile when she saw that Violet was wearing sneakers with her Prada dress.

“Miss!” Violet maneuvered around her desk. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you would be here this early.” Fame handed Violet her jacket, the other woman quickly hanging it up.

“Is there any news about my new assistant?” Fame took the coffee from the table. It wasn’t scalding hot like she preferred it, but she wasn’t inclined to wait while her assistant got her another one.

“Yes.” Violet nodded, grabbing a stack of papers from the printer, and Fame realized she had probably been printing resumes. “We should be ready to bring in some candidates by next Tuesday.”

“Good-” Fame held her hand out, taking the stack. “I expect you to pre-interview each and every one of them before I see them.” She wanted a competent assistant, and had no intention of suffering through the first round of the blubbering fools HR always seemed to think would be appropriate for her. “Remember, only perfection is acceptable.”

***

Violet’s eyes were resting on Raja and Fame in the rearview mirror. They were in a town car, Violet instantly climbing into the front with the driver. Violet never spoke unless she was spoken to, her presence in the car only required in case she would be needed.

It was fascinating to watch Raja and Fame interact. They had worked together for so long that it seemed like they knew each other inside and out. It was as if they shared a creative mind, and had an intimate understanding of exactly what the other one was talking about.

Normally, Violet would be listening in, imagining what her own professional life could maybe be one day, but today, however, Violet was thoroughly distracted.

She was so happy, so relieved, to be moving, that she could almost dance in her seat. Yesterday, when she had been sent the pictures of the vacant apartment, she’d nearly cried with joy. It was beautiful - a small but perfect one-bedroom with a sweet little kitchen, central air, sparkling new bathroom fixtures, and even a French balcony. It was so far beyond anything she’d imagined she might have for years and years.

The fact that she was going to be packing all night in order to be ready for the movers tomorrow at noon didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Burning bridges was something Violet was used to, and she couldn’t wait to set this one on fire

“Violet-” Fame’s voice broke through Violet’s daydream of the strongly-worded email she’d send to her landlord. “Violet, have you gone deaf?”

“No Miss. Sorry.”

“I need a pen.”

Violet reached into her bag, Fame acknowledging her only to take it, and then it was back to being invisible as Fame turned her attention to Raja.

This time, however, Violet couldn’t help but listen.

“I realize that you don’t agree-” Fame put the pen to the sketches she and Raja were looking at, “but don’t you think that the lines are too jarring?” Fame did a small correction, the emeralds on her fingers shining in the light. “And this color story, the more I look at it, the more I-”

Violet knew she wasn’t supposed to listen, but she reached into her bag, grabbing her phone, sending a quick left hand text to Trixie.

Fame worried abt collection dislikes colors v v weird vibe

It felt like going behind her boss’s back, but Violet knew Fame well enough to pick up on the note in her voice, in the furrow between her brows.

“Fame, darling,” Raja put a hand on Fame’s knee, her gold bangles clicking together, her tan skin standing out against the creamy white of Fame’s skirt. “You do this to yourself every time,” Raja soothed, her voice surprisingly soft. “It’s all beautiful. We’ll go back to the office, we’ll have a cup of tea, and you’ll see-”

“Don’t patronize me,” Fame snapped, pulling her knee away from Raja’s grasp.

“Don’t act crazy.” Raja rolled her eyes. “I hate to see you stress over something that will be magnificent.”

It seemed like Raja had completely forgotten that Violet was in the car, her ability to make herself invisible once again biting her in the ass since she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to see this display of affection.

“Bianca would agree that something isn’t right,” Fame huffed slightly, crossing her arms, and Violet stifled a tiny laugh.

Bianca Del Rio was editor-in-chief of Marie Claire, one of Fame and Raja’s dearest friends, and possibly the scariest person Violet had ever met. Anyone who thought Fame was too tough would probably just wither and die within 30 seconds of being around Bianca. What amused Violet was that her boss treated the infamous hard-ass like she was the sweetest, most adorable person in the universe.

“Well, Bianca doesn’t work here,” Raja countered, adding, “Thank god.” She leaned her head on her hand, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Fame pursed her lips, turning to look out the window, and Raja seemed to change tactics.

She slung an arm around Fame’s shoulder, her voice sugary sweet. “Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight?” Raja tugged on one of Fame’s golden earrings, the emeralds on it matching her ring. “Raven promised she wouldn’t cook.”

“Thanks,” Fame chuckled, “but no thanks. I promised Patrick I would pay him attention for the first time all week.”

“Fair enough,” Raja sat back up. “Have a nice night with your husband. Have a few drinks and forget that I exist over the weekend.” Raja smirked. “I have plans of my own anyway.”

***

Bianca rolled over as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, reaching over Derrick’s sleeping form to answer it. The fact that she was still awake, obsessing over the new printing contracts, didn’t change the fact that it was far too late (or too early) for any rational person to be calling.

There were only two people it might be, and she prayed that it wasn’t Adore, because she was not in the mood for whatever shenanigans her baby sister might have gotten herself into this time. Glancing at the screen, she let out a sigh of half relief, half irritation when she saw that it was Fame. And worse, she was FaceTiming.

“Hey Blondie. What’s wrong?” Bianca answered, voice hoarse.

“Why would something be wrong?” asked Fame, blue-gray eyes widening innocently.

“Well, it’s 3 am. So if nothing’s wrong, I’m gonna hang up and we can resume when the sun comes up…”

“Wait!” Fame said, then furrowed her brow, asking, “Who’s that?”

Bianca glanced at the tousled blonde head beside her.  

“That’s Derrick.”

“Uh huh, and why haven’t I met her?”

“We’re not at that point yet,” Bianca told her, tilting the phone down and lifting the covers. “But if you really want, you can meet her ass.”

Bianca moved the phone closer, flash lighting up Derrick’s ass in a pair of boy-cut red panties.

“Bianca!” Derrick shrieked, slapping her hand away. “What the fuck?!”

“Nevermind, her ass isn’t in the mood.”

“Really, Bianca,” Fame clucked. “That poor girl.”

“Ugh!” Derrick moved over, unamused, putting a pillow over her head to block out the noise.

“So, blondie...you gonna tell me what this is about? Cause if not, I should really get to sleep. Rest my weary tongue.” Bianca grinned lasciviously at her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

After a moment, when she saw that Fame was neither laughing nor giving her a disapproving pout, she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Seriously, Fame. Are you okay?” she asked, voice a bit softer.

“Yeah...I’m…” Fame sighed slightly, leaning her head on the arm of the sofa. “I just feel a bit...unsettled.”

“Unsettled about what?” Bianca asked. “Would this by any chance have to do with Fashion Week coming up?”

“Of course,” Fame said with a slight chuckle. “I should be feeling great. I mean, we’re ahead of schedule, for once, and everyone seems to love the direction, but I just...it feels a bit off.”

“What does Raja think?”

“Raja loves it the most, she thinks I’m crazy.”

“Well. You are. But you also have spot-on creative instincts, so maybe this is a time to trust yourself?” Bianca said.

“Mmmh.”

“Okay how’s this...tomorrow morning, once I get rid of Derrick here, I’ll pick up a couple bottles of Veuve and some fresh-squeezed orange juice, head over to your place, and we can spend the whole morning drinking mimosas and ripping the collection to shreds. What do you say?”

“Do I really have to wait until the morning?”

“Fraid so, blondie. Liquor stores are closed right now,” Bianca laughed.

“Well then, I say, great plan.”

“Perfect. So now can I fuckin’ sleep?” Bianca asked, an affectionate smile on her face.

Fame smiled back, nodding.

“Thank you, B.”

“Anytime.”  

***

As Violet closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help but leave out a giant sigh of relief.

The movers had finished in record time, everything going smoother than she had dared to imagine, though she knew a big part of the seamless move was due to her barely owning any furniture.

Violet had never bothered to buy a bedframe for her last apartment, not that there would have been any space for it in the room she had rented anyway, so all she owned was a twin mattress, a sewing table that sometimes served as a desk and a single chair.

What did take up Violet’s space was all of her sewing equipment. The overlocker and sewing machine, who had been her trusted college companions, were sitting on top of her table while her embroidery frame and her mannequins were lying in a pile besides the big garbage bags she used to store her leftover fabric.

The apartment had a miniature walk-in closet, and Violet couldn’t wait to hang up her clothes, two racks holding all of her pieces.  

Violet fished her work phone out of her bag. She unlocked it, the empty screen causing her to bite her lip. Violet would never prefer to be interrupted during the weekend, but there wasn’t a single text, voice memo or email from Fame. It was strange however, when taken into consideration how anxious she’d seemed the day before, and while Violet had no hard facts to lean against, she was still bracing for a storm.

Violet was pulled out of her thoughts by three hard, quick knocks on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she opened it curiously to find a grinning Katya and mischievous looking  Max, holding a basket full of tea, candles and a pastry Violet couldn’t place, the small cakes glistening with honey.

“Welcome to the building!” Katya exclaimed, flashing those blindingly white teeth.

“We’re so happy to have you join us,” Max added kindly, holding out the large basket.

“Umh…” Violet took the basket, too unsure to decide what leg she should stand on. “Hello?”

“Can we come in?” Katya smiled, holding up a flask. “I brought tea!”

“Oh, sure, but I don’t-” Violet wanted to say that she didn’t have a seat for them, but Katya was already making her way inside, Max following right behind her.

“Trixie would have come too, but he’s a bit in the weeds at the moment.” Katya put her thermos down on Violet’s kitchen counter, apparently not fazed at all by the lack of furniture as she pulled paper cups out of her bag, “tearing his hair out coming up with new ideas in case you’re right about Fame’s freak-out.”

“Shit-” Violet froze. She had only meant for the text to be helpful, to sooth her own anxiety over the look she had seen on Fame’s face. “I hope I didn’t-”

“No no, don’t worry.” Katya smiled, taking the basket back and putting that on the table too. “He’d much rather freak out now than when Fashion Week is closer.” Katya put one of the cakes on a little napkin she had pulled up from somewhere. “Medovik? Max?”

“Yes please.” Max smiled, taking the napkin Katya offered.

“Violet?”

“Thank you.” Violet took it, knowing for sure that she wasn’t going to eat all of it, her stomach too tight with worry about Trixie. She bit into it, the taste of honey exploding in her mouth. They all ate together, Katya chatting away while Max walked over to the rack beside her sewing table.

“What’s that?” Max pointed with a finger at a half-open garment bag.

“That?” Violet felt a warm glow spread in her body. “It’s my graduation project.” Violet put down her napkin, a giant smile on her face as she walked over. “Do you want to see it?” Violet touched the bag, the grey plastic crinkling between her fingers.

“Yes please!” Katya smiled brightly, Max nodding excitedly.

Violet pulled the dress out, a whoosh of excitement rushing through her. The dress was a floor length see-through gown, dripping in violet jewels, the glittering pieces covering the breasts and pouring out in an elegant waterfall down the skirt.

“Oh god, it’s gorgeous!” Katya clapped, and Violet nodded.

“I went for a bit of a neo-Victorian take.” Violet touched the shoulders and hips that were jutting out, both supported by beige boning. “I realised it might seem derivative to use violet, but it’s one of my favorite colors-”

“With good reason.” Max had stood up, the man now at Violet’s side as he reached out, gently touching the skirt.

“I can’t believe you made this.” Katya had joined them as well, the two of them standing side by side.

“I wanted to use real amethysts,” Violet supported the fabric, catching the setting sun in the stones, “but I didn’t have the budget. It was a pain in the ass to stitch all that plastic on.”

“Wait, you did this yourself?” Katya looked shocked. “It’s not prejeweled?”

Violet wanted to snort, or at least huff, the idea that she’d ever use prejeweled fabric actually kind of insulting.

“That must have taken weeks.”

“Believe me, it did.

“Wow.” Katya smiled. “That’s really dedicated. Fame sure is lucky to have you!”

***

“Shit-” Violet muttered under her breath as she tried to grab her keys. She could feel plastic dig into her elbow, her grocery bag heavy with all the things she had purchased.

She had only meant to get some rolled oats and a few emergency boxes of instant mashed potatoes, but when she had actually entered the store, Violet had made the realization that for the first time in her adult life, she had a kitchen that was entirely her own.

“I got it!” Violet heard the beep of the door opening as someone behind her swiped their key fob. She glanced over her shoulder to say thank you, only to bump into the last person she had ever expected to see on an early Sunday morning.

Pearl Liaison was standing right behind her, a surprised expression on her face that probably mirrored Violet’s own.

Pearl was wearing what was clearly last night’s outfit, her blonde hair collected in a braid down her back, the snow white globes of her small breasts boosted by a black corset.

Violet was frozen in place, shocked, as Pearl moved closer to her, an arm snaking over her shoulder.

“Hey Vivi.”

Was this real life? Was Pearl about to kiss her? Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s breasts against her own, their bodies touching.

But instead of a kiss, the blonde grabbed the door handle and pushed, tossing Violet an airy smile and gesturing for her to enter.

“Ladies first,” she said.

Still stunned, Violet let out an embarrassed scoff, saying, “You’re a lady, too.”

“Debatable,” Pearl replied with a grin, following her into the lobby. “So…I wondered if you’d be joining us here. When did you move in?”

“Yesterday.” Violet bit her lip.

“Ah. Awesome.” Pearl smirked. Violet swore she could feel Pearl’s eyes on her body, the woman smelling of tequila and cigarettes, the scent of sex lingering just underneath.

She lowered her eyes as Pearl brushed by her to climb the stairs, needing a moment to catch her breath. She tried to keep it together as last night’s skirt clung to Pearl’s ass. Before she disappeared around the corner, Pearl turned back to give Violet another cheeky grin.

“See you around, pumpkin.”