#can’t wait to see more of Katya wearing this dress again

[petrovna-zamo]

Katya in red ❤️

#it’s her color #the bright red scare #can’t wait to see more of Katya wearing this dress again #in all her New York New York number glory #katya #katya zamo #katya zamolodchikova #t&k live

[honestsycrets]

Never and Always II: A Cold Bath.

❛ pairing | ivar x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk wants to take an ice bath. oleg questions the reader about england.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, fear of Ivar, reader attempts to jump in sea, athelstansdaughter!reader, possible triangles, ivar isn’t the villain, implied previous ivar x reader, nsfw-borederline, oblivious hvitserk

The ice is frosty under your ass. A circle of ice had been cut, as you were told, for Oleg’s beautiful wife. After she was done with it, Hvitserk had this great idea. He slung his forest green tunic to the ground and unraveled his pants, all while you held your face between your fingertips. His hands ran together as he warmed himself up from the cold that slurried through the air toward his pale cheeks.

“What are you hiding for?” he laughs.

He’s in. You hear his body dip in-- but more than that, you feel his large hands on your calves, working up your dress from your knees. You squeak and peek through your eyes. His broad shoulders look… you gasp in a breath. He’s beautiful under the warm light of your room, when he’s pulling on his tunic, but better like this. When his blotchy and black tattoos are complemented by the frosty air. His hacksilver pendant rests on his hirsute chest. Just waiting for you to join in.

“Hvitserk, don’t--” you squeak, finding that his hands have left for the many ties on your sides. “I don’t have anything under this!”

He glances around. The unmoving guards are turned around. Like anyone would care to watch you. You might be a princess: but you’re far removed from the lines of royalty by which name you claimed.

“Since when have you cared?” Hvitserk mumbles, working them free. “Lift your hips.”

You obey. He adds another piece of clothing to the pile to the left of him, averting his eyes to yours. Was he looking? As Hvitserk offers up his battle-worn hands to yours, you realize he isn’t. He helps you scoot off the ledge and into the waiting waters-- and into his arms. Your chest bumps into his, cool waters hardening your nipples into erect peaks.

“It’s cold--” you excuse, setting your hand on top of his chest for support. You can’t help yourself: you swathe your fingers over his hacksilver pendant, tracing the golden corners of it nestled between golden hairs. His eyes linger on your finger. “I’m surprised you still have this.”

“Why?”

You press your lips together. “Paris was a long time ago, Hvitserk.”

He urges you back against the wall of ice to allow for some well-deserved distance between your bodies. You’re at a lack for his warmth, the way his hairy chest felt against your breast, or the way you had to ignore his nether regions as he swam in place.

“Not in my mind. In my mind, it was a day ago,” Hvitserk reaches for a pitcher of mead. How it isn’t iced over by now, you’re not sure. He gives you a cup and takes one for himself. “Have you and Ivar…”

“No,” you cut him off. “Not after he left my room.”

He drinks a full swash, bouncing between his pale cheeks before swallowing. You flush. “He hasn’t forgiven you.”

More than me, you’re reminded. The way his nostrils flared or heat behind his dark eyes. You’re a long way from Kattegat, but what happened… it’s there with you. You turn over in the icy pool and allow your hips to float freely while in thought. More than Ivar.

“He’ll get over it, Thor willing.”

Hvitserk joins you and finishes his drink. “We all thought he would marry you.”

You pour yourself another drink. “He proposed to me.”

“And you said…?”

You bore into the reflection of the cup.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Very well,” Hvitserk sighed, shifting himself around. With his back to the ice, he settles his arms back on the wall to balance himself. “You shouldn’t wear those rags from home. They do nothing for your body.”

The rags from home were safe. The clothes that Katya had given you were… showy. They were meant to make a spectacle. While here among the Rus, that was not what you wanted to do. You peer over to Hvitserk, “What would you know of my body?”

“I know you’ve filled out,” Hvitserk answers with his head tipped back. He lifts his head again, moving to sock your arm with his closed fist. “You should flaunt it. We might need a woman’s touch with Oleg.”

“I plan to keep myself as far away from that dog as possible.” You snap, turning your face down into your arm. Whatever the reason Hvitserk wanted you to dress more… alluringly, it was wrapped in political conquest. He noticed your body and yet, the moment that you waited for? It was… bittersweet. It was a pawn in the game of chess. “He has plenty of whores.”

“Not English princesses,” Hvitserk says pointedly.

“I am not English. I am heathen,” you splash your drink in his face. Hvitserk flicks his head to the side and then up. In that short expanse of time, you’ve pulled yourself out of the water. He watches as you snatch your brown bag of a dress and yank it over your head. “And you are a fool to think otherwise.”

“Princess,” he reaches out, catching your thigh in his sturdy grip. He applies an amazing amount of pressure to keep you in place until he can slip between your legs, floating whilst you pull the dress down. “I know I am, but I am a fool who wants to keep you alive.”

You slide out from underneath him. You could do that yourself.

Your little servant knew you hated the dress. Not minding that your legs were accustomed to slacks or that… your usual staples were drab. She was in tune with every instance of uncertainty you had. She’s a mouse of a girl, small but soft and loving. Her soft brown eyes pale and her body thin, she makes herself smaller when Hvitserk enters the room.

“What do you think?” you ask her honest opinion, spinning in place, and stopping to look at the woman in the mirror. She’s foreign to you. You gestured to your gown. “You think the boys will approve?”

She clasps her hands together, nodding with a bob of her long veil. She grins a wide gap-toothed smile.

“Why don’t you speak?” you ask her. “Are you mute?”

You swap a look as Hvitserk bounces past the wooden room divider and seizes your wrist. You had questions the girl whose presence flooded the room like a shadow and yet still slept in a bed near the door.

“There you are. You took my advice,” there’s a slight pause, then a smile. “Come, Ivar is waiting for us to say hello to Prince Oleg and his wife. Is this gold?”

There’s only so much you can ask of your Hvitserk now that he was awake and well. Apparently asking that he be attentive was too much to ask of him. His mind is constantly running; even when he is quiet.

“Yes, I think so.”

“It’s nice,” he remarks of the dress. You don’t know why you expected more. Or why it hurt when he glazed it over so easily. As though it meant nothing to him when it felt like it should have meant something. Of course, it meant nothing, you reminded yourself. He didn’t know it should mean something.

“I will see you soon,” you call back to your slave girl. She waves curtly and picks up the strewn clothes around the room.

The floors in Oleg’s castle seem to stretch for miles. All virtually the same; minus the change in the appearance of the guard. Some tall, some short. They all have the same dark hair and hard black eyes. You fiddle with the pendant of Thor that hands above your chest at Ivar’s room. Hvitserk dips inside, and moments later, appears with your once-was lover.

Ivar seems to wear all the same clothes. Baggy, ill-formed, horrendously brown. If you had to see Ivar in brown, you preferred the tunics from home. Shaped to his muscular arms, the neck slightly pulled apart, with a view of his muscular chest and the proud pendant of Thor, that matched your own, beating on his chest.

“--The dress.”

“I’m sorry?” you spoke, moistening your lips for the memory. Talk of this horrendous gown tips you off to Ivar’s voice. You lifted your head from staring at the intricate, but ugly ties at his chest to look him in the eye. He leans in and bumps into your chest.

“You look beautiful in the dress.”

Ivar always noticed you. The warmth that flooded your face wasn’t exactly something that you could withhold, not when he met your eyes with such force. He brought his hand up to your anxious fiddling and forced it to still.

“Thank you.”

“So then why would you wear it, uh?” he asks next. His nose scrunches up, bearing his gleaming white teeth.

“What?”

“He is a womanizer and here you are,” his head tilts to the side, rounding out. Here he goes. You can’t suppress your eyes rolling up as his hand twirls up your side, condescending: just like Bjorn. “--dressed in gold silks and a glistening crown. Calling for his attention! Do you not know the value of a plain dress?”

Hvitserk remains as still as the guards behind him.

“Hvitserk told me to dress up,” you hiss back. “Is that not enough?”

“Hvitserk--” Ivar bobbles his head, rolling his eyes in mimicry. “What does Hvitserk know of men? He does not even know what he wants most days.”

You let out your suppressed breath and pick up your skirts. By all appearances, Ivar was maintaining his image. He lurches out to seize your arm, stopping you in place from storming off back down the halls.

“I don’t say these things to--” Ivar breaks into a huff of air, “I say them to keep us safe. If we were home, you could wear whatever you wanted and it would not be an issue. Now stop making that face.”

“It is my face. What would you have me do?” you arch your brows up at him, challenging his words with a soft gleam in your eyes. “Wear a bag and pretend to be a proper Saxon girl?”

“You’re too mouthy for that. We could never fool Oleg like that.”

“The guards have already seen her,” Hvitserk leans forward. “Let her wear it.”

The weight of Ivar’s eyes fall upon you like iron weights. You remain voiceless when he turns on his brother like a snake, Ivar rules his lower lip in between his teeth. Then out. His expression remains hooded and dark as he starts down the hall. “This is your fault.”  

The dress does not inspire many friends. It’s soft golden silk contrasts against brilliant sapphire blue. With its long waterfall sleeves and cinched waist, you should have a family of admirers. Instead, you have a proud dog and a scowling ex-lover. Oleg hums and prompts your name.

“I have recently heard you are a princess. An English princess.”

Here you go.

“Where did you hear that?” You can play along, despite the words that had seized up the contents of your belly. Ivar was right. This was a game. Your mouth was dry with apprehension for his response.

“I’ve foreseen it,” he says sharply. Or on the lips of his guards. “I’ve not come by the manner in which my beloved Ivar came upon you so haply.”

“He didn’t. His father Ragnar and his dearest friend, my father, Athelstan did,” you told the prince in punctuated words. “My mother Judith abandoned me with them. She knew I would not survive in Wessex.”

“As a baby?”

“Yes,” you say. “But I am a heathen.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. I know a heathen when I see one. Tell me of this-- Alfred the Great.”

“I know nothing of him,” you rap your knuckles over the table. “Only that he is my twin.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. I was raised by a boatbuilder, you see. Ragnar’s cruel punishment.” You wish that he would stop asking you so many questions. It was a long time since you dreamed of England and the family that you could have had. Maybe, you could have met Ivar there. He would have hated you.

“And of England?”

“You should ask Ivar. I’ve never been.”

He leans back in his chair.

“That is fine. It has been a long day-- and I anticipate, a longer night. I hope you enjoyed your ice bath with Hvitserk.” In that split second, Ivar turned his head over toward you. The pain resurfaces a power you never knew you had over him. Regret hits you like a shield on the battlefield, forcing you to lurch in your chair, setting a hand on his thigh. Ivar’s eye snaps down to your hand over his calibers.

“What bath?”

Oleg chuckles, warm and cruel. “They bathed together in Katya’s pool. Did they not tell you?”

His head hangs, focused on your delicate palm over his firm thigh. Out of the corner of his eye, his raw stare centered on you. You have noting to be ashamed about. You were not his anymore. You had no reason to feel as if you had, yet again, betrayed Ivar the Boneless. You had done nothing wrong!

Oleg snatches the cloth to clean his face. He wipes crumbles from his beard and drops the cloth on the plate. He excuses himself with his young wife. “Let us talk of England tomorrow, Ivar. I am— interested.”

“Ivar--” your voice sounds small. Too small for a woman whose life was once wound up in being on the battlefield beside a man like Ivar the Boneless. You feel small as you struggle to explain, swirling in a whirlpool of thought. Ivar throws off your hand from his thigh and closes his eyes. With one smooth inhale and exhale of breath, he stands up. He doesn’t have to ask Igor to stand up either. The future grand prince is up, trailing his steps, a puppy after the larger dog that might as well be his father.

“You should go to him.” Hvitserk breaks the silence after Ivar’s thrumming steps fizzled out. “Explain that it wasn’t what he thinks it is.”

That earlier that day, you hadn’t felt a zing of excitement when Hvitserk’s naked chest bumped into yours. That attention of his you craved-- it was nothing. Hvitserk’s hands are turned over his clothed chest now. You try to swallow your pride.

“He knows what it is,” you turn your face toward Hvitserk. Oleg’s many servants pick half eaten gold dishes from the table in front of you. Your eyes pricked as you ran your hands together. Your gown feels somewhat hotter, somewhat harder to stand in. Hvitserk tilts his head slightly. Something wasn’t right.

“Knows what-- what is?” Hvitserk asked.

You’re a coward. If you were half the man that Ivar was, you would be able to tell Hvitserk your deepest, newly realized secret. The air in your chest was punched out. You couldn’t, not now. It aches a whole in your chest. “It’s nothing. I should go.”

You walk back to your room with a knot greater than any battle had given you. You knew why; that your stomach was unsettled by Oleg’s push for England and its riches. The rich green soil and lapping beaches that Ragnar would tell you about. Back when you wondered of whom you came from. Who was Judith? Or Alfred? The thoughts were painful to recall as the child that had been so easily sent away. The door beside you whirled open. A hand launched out and yanked you into the dark room. The buckles alerted you to Ivar’s presence.

“Ivar?”

“Hush,” the door whizzed closed again. It falls with a heart shattering clank against its hinges. You wait til the noise outside the door has settled to walk toward a singular chair among blonde furs. It looks like home. You take a seat and wait for the impending ass whipping you anticipate is careening your way. In its place, Ivar snakes forth.

“He will want to fight Alfred.”

You tilt your head. “And? What concern is that of mine?”

“You know why.”

In the West, where your brother was, you would be faced with the obligation to fight one way or another. Surely Oleg knew your reputation for fighting with the brothers. But you could not-- imagine taking the life of your brother. Even if you did not know his quality.

“It won’t be an issue unless you make it one.”

“Hm,” Ivar reaches out. You jerk back, allowing his hand to curl back in. As his hand becomes a fist, he nods through his thoughts. “Then you had better not betray me a third time.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a second.”

He slips open the door.

“You’re running away, again?”

There’s a moment-- when you think he’ll just smile and close the door behind him. After all, with Hvitserk’s rantings and ravings, it was very easy to do so. You want him the rejection that will follow. Rather, Ivar stabs the ground and maneuvers around to face your accusation.

“I wish you the best in your first marriage with my own flesh and blood,” he mocks, spreading his hand out in half of a bow. “Good night, Princess.”

He might as well have said bitch.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr​ @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar/reader #ivar the boneless/reader #vikings imagines #viking imagines #Ivar the Boneless imagines

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 65 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Chapter 65 seems like a good time to tell you that there’s nothing we love more than talking to you guys about this story! We are both on tumblr (@theartificialdane and @veronicasanders) and we’d love to hear from you!! We also have other Galactica content there under the “galactica” and “galactica wardrobe” tags. XOXO!! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Bianca threw a wrench in the annual holiday party when she brought Courtney as her date, and Katya tried to (not) deal with her surprise pregnancy.

This Chapter: Miss Fame and the team work on the final lineup for the spring runway, and Katya figures some things out.

***

It was Violet’s luck that she was a light sleeper, the first note of her alarm barely ringing before she had grabbed her phone from under her pillow and turned it off.

There really wasn't a need for Violet to wake up at 6, for her to start her day so early since she couldn’t go to the gym because of her ankle, but habits were hard to break, and she liked how quiet the world was in the morning, how it felt like she was the only one awake.

She wasn’t hungover, had barely had a drink because of her crutches, but she had a feeling all of her coworkers would be wearing sunglasses and asking each other to shut up, the Friday after the Christmas party always an experience.

Sutan’s bedroom was dark, his curtains swallowing the ever present lights of Harlem, the man asleep next to her, his head resting on his pillow.

It took everything in Violet not to reach out and run her fingers through his hair.

She had been so annoyed with him last night, so uncomfortable in the beautiful red dress she had bought with his money, the simmering anger not leaving her until she had felt Sutan’s clever fingers undo the zipper on her back, skin against skin finally freeing her from the smoldering fire.

“Stop staring at me.” Violet froze, Sutan’s voice deep with sleep.

“I’m not.”

“Oh?” Sutan cracked an eye open, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out, grabbing her hip on top of her blanket. “Could have fooled me.”

“Well,” Violet smiled back, allowing him to pull her in, “Maybe I was. A little bit.”

***

As her alarm sounded, Courtney groaned, burying her head into Bianca’s neck. Bianca laughed, reaching over to hit snooze, giving them a few more precious minutes in bed before Courtney had to get up.

Bianca had never been much of a morning person, but she’d discovered that, in many ways, this was her favorite part of the day. When the world was dark and still, and they were curled together under the covers, naked and warm. She trailed her fingers up and down Courtney’s back, pressed a kiss to her temple.

“You okay, sunshine?” Bianca asked.

“Mmmhmm...I just don’t want to go to work.”

Bianca smiled, one hand settling into the curve of Courtney’s waist, enjoying the way they fit so perfectly together.

“Then don’t,” she stated, warming up to the idea of taking a day off, just the two of them. “Call in sick.”

“I wish,” Courtney scoffed, a deep sigh leaving her. “But I can’t, so…”

“Why not?”

“The day after a party? Everyone will think I have some crazy hangover.”

“Yeah, so?” Bianca laughed.

“Plus, I’m pretty sure Miss Fame is less than pleased with me right now. I don’t want to give her any reason to be annoyed. And there’s a big meeting to decide on the spring runway, and I have to-”

“Alright, alright...forget I suggested it,” Bianca said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I just really liked the idea of spending all day in bed with you.”

Courtney raised herself up on her elbow, gazing down at Bianca with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Maybe, um...can we do that tomorrow?”

“You’re on, angel,” Bianca said, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

“And...we still have about seven minutes before the alarm goes off again.” Courtney brushed her lips against Bianca’s neck, murmuring, “You wanna go back to sleep, or…?”

“Hmmm...” Bianca cocked her head, pretending to think. “I may have some other ideas…”

Courtney let out a delighted squeal as Bianca flipped her onto her back with a wicked grin.

***

Maxwell groaned as a loud clatter sounded through the design floor.

“Sorry!” Kiara whisper-shouted, quickly picking up the pair of scissors she had dropped. Trixie had gone to the department head meeting about 20 minutes ago, which meant that everyone had given up the pretense that they were working. Alexis had gone straight for the couch to take a nap as soon as the door had closed behind him, April still nursing a terrible-looking green smoothie at her desk. “Sorry everyone!”

“Don’t even think about it girl!” Bob smiled, his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, and Maxwell groaned again, sliding down so he could rest his head on his arms, Bob chatting away.

He loved his boyfriend, he really did, but there were few things more annoying than when Bob had managed to get into any tabloid, the perceived fame of it always going directly to his head. And of course, it was made even worse by his friends and family back home in Georgia playing right into it, acting as if it meant anything at all.

“Listen, I didn’t ask to be born fabulous, but it’s my cross to bear, and I’m-” Bob laughed, adding, “Exactly!”

“He’s really getting into it, huh?” Maxwell looked up to see Violet standing next to his desk, looking over at Bob, Jovan at her side holding three cups of coffee.

“Here,” Jovan smiled, giving one of them to Maxwell, the scent filling his nose.

“Oh god I love you,” Maxwell grinned, taking the liquid magic. It was probably not healthy to be on his third cup already, but he didn’t care.

“Love you too boo,” Jovan grinned, taking a seat on the edge of his desk, Violet doing the same, balancing her crutch so she could take her own cup. They didn’t talk, and Maxwell loved that, Violet fitting so nicely into their little boys club that he barely even thought about the fact that she was a girl and straight most days.

***

“Pearl! Pay attention!”

Pearl snapped out of it, the wheels of her chair squeaking as she moved, her eyes wide open at the commanding tone in Fame’s voice.

“Sorry!” Pearl sat up straight, Bendela hiding a snicker behind a sketchbook, her brown eyes clearly filled with delight over Pearl getting reprimanded.

“God,” Fame rolled her eyes, her hand on her hip, her outfit of the day a white cropped cashmere sweater and white linen high waisted pants, her blonde hair in a high delicate updo, a golden belt snug around her waist. “Did anyone come to work today?”

If they had been alone, Pearl would have opened her mouth to point out that she was the one who always arranged for the Christmas party to be on a Thursday, but they weren’t, so Pearl kept her mouth shut.

“Fame,” Raja’s voice was warm, and it apparently functioned just as intended, her tone a soothing balm on whatever had Fame into such a tizzy. “We’re almost done.”

If Pearl had to make an educated guess, she’d say it was probably the whole Courtney and Bianca thing, though it could be anything from her breakfast grapefruit not being ripe to morning traffic to a photographer catching a bad angle of her last night.

“You’re right,” Fame sat back down, sliding her chair over to Trixie. “So, fourth look. What do you have?”

“I was thinking about these pants?” Trixie held out a sketch, and Pearl folded her hands over her stomach, watching her best friend do his job exceptionally well.

Fame tapped her fingers against the table, french tips hitting the wood and Pearl made a mental note to see if she could sneak in a visit to Fame’s office, providing their boss with an orgasm before lunch a great Christmas gift to everyone in the company.

***

V-List Alert: BDR’s Latest Blonde Bombshell

[Pictured: A large photo of Bianca and Courtney kissing on the red carpet, along with a few smaller shots of them looking giggly and affectionate. And lastly, a grainy, low-res photo of them on the street after the event, kissing while a driver is opening the car door.]

Well, well, well…

Okay, so to begin with, let’s all admit that BDR showing up on a red carpet with some sweet young thing is nothing new. In fact, it would be strange if she didn’t. But the shameless PDA last night at Galactica’s annual Christmas party—both on and off the carpet—had us wondering...who the hell is the new paramour?

We did a bit of digging and strap in kids, cause it gets juicy…

Turns out that this little darling is named Courtney Jenek. Sound familiar? No? Yeah it shouldn’t. But she happens to have two very interesting connections to BDR: 1, apparently she’s friends with B’s baby sister, princess of the underground punk scene Adore Delano. And 2, even more hilariously, Lil Courtney here is the Executive Assistant to none other than Miss Fame of Galactica.

Wonder what the illustrious and brand-conscious Miss Fame thinks of her bestie using her staff in what appears to be an extremely filthy unprofessional way? And how’s it all gonna play out?

We can’t wait to watch this drama unfold…

***

As Courtney slipped on her coat and grabbed her bag to head downstairs for yet another coffee run, she glanced at her personal phone, laughing to herself when she saw the 17 missed calls from Morgan. She scrolled through the text messages in the elevator.

MORGAN: COURTNEYYYYYYYY!!!

MORGAN: OMG PICK UP

MORGAN: WERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL US YOU’RE FUCKING BIANCA DEL RIO?????

TYRA: She’s WHAT

ADORE: You guys didn’t know? ;)

TATIANNA: Yawn, old news :p

MORGAN: BITCH

MORGAN: COURTNEY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T PICK UP

MORGAN: COURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEY

Courtney called her back, laughing some more when she picked up even before the first ring.

“You know I’m working, right?”

“I am going to murder you,” Morgan announced.

“Wow Morgan. A hate crime? I really thought more highly of you,” Courtney replied with a giggle.

“Omigod, shut up! How could you not have told me already?!”

“Well...I don’t know, I wasn’t sure what it was at first-” she said.

“It’s still fucking major!” Morgan laughed. “I guess it makes sense, though. God, you always chose the worst men.”

Courtney chuckled, nodding as she exited the elevator and headed for the coffee shop.

“So what did your parents say?”

“Uhhh...I haven’t exactly told them yet.”

“Courtney!”

“What? It’s not gonna be dramatic or anything, you know my brother’s gay.”

“Omigod, Court, you absolute idiot. You have to-”

“One sec.” Courtney lowered her phone to give the orders for the meeting, then went back to the phone. “Sorry, I’m on a coffee run.”

“Yeah, I heard. Listen, Courtney, you have to tell them! Do you really want them to find out that you’re dating a woman who’s almost twice your age from a fucking tabloid?”

“I don’t think my parents subscribe to American fashion blogs.”

“Did you even read the link I sent you?! Someone’s gonna send it to them, trust me.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell them,” Courtney told her with an eye roll. She really didn’t see the big deal though; telling her parents was the last thing on her list of worries at the moment.

“Also…” Morgan’s voice lowered, taking on a sing-song, teasing tone now that the business was out of the way, “When are we hanging out? ‘Cause you know I absolutely need all the sordid details.”

“Soon, I promise.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“I’m kind of busy tomorrow,” Courtney admitted.

“Busy getting railed, you mean?”

“Maybe…”

“Ha, you slag.”

***

Maybe she was avoiding going home. That was certainly possible. But on Friday, Katya just seemed to keep finding things to do to prepare for the next week of school. It would be their last week before winter break, so she knew that any kind of serious learning would be difficult. Rather than spend her time fighting with the kids to focus when they just weren’t capable of it, she planned as many fun projects as possible, and though a lot of them were old hat for her by now, the prep work never seemed to end.

Which is why, when Jasmine, the woman who ran the afterschool program, came to her door at almost 6:45, she was still there.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you…”

“It’s no bother, come on in,” Katya said, a big smile on her face, especially when she saw that Jasmine had Grace with her--one of Katya’s favorite students.

“You know we close at 6, and Grace’s mom is running late today,” Jasmine said. Her tone of voice was light and cheerful, but her eyes told Katya a different story--that this wasn’t the first time it had happened, and that she was likely furious. “I gotta get home, and Dani’s out with the flu, so...do you mind keeping her here until Leslie shows up? It should be soon, she texted me ten minutes ago that she’s on the way.”

“No problem. We’ll have a great time, won’t we Grace?”

The little girl nodded, skipping into the classroom happily.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jasmine said. “Thank you!”

Katya turned to Grace, who had dumped her jacket and backpack on the rug and was already prowling around the book bins, likely looking for her favorite Junie B. Jones stories. Soon, the two of them were settled into bean bag chairs in the comfy zone, Katya reading a few chapters out loud to her before realizing that she was probably hungry and suggesting a snack. Grace was just finishing her juice box and goldfish crackers when her young mother, Leslie, came rushing inside, harried and out of breath, apologizing profusely.

“Mama!” Grace jumped up from her seat at the little table, knocking the chair over in her excitement to leap into her mom’s arms. She hugged her tightly, face buried in her neck, and Katya could see some of the tension in Leslie’s face melt away.

Katya stood up from her own seat, picking up the book they’d been reading.

“I’m gonna put this book in Grace’s backpack so that you can finish it together this weekend,” she said, and Leslie shot her a look of pure gratitude, nodding.

“Grace, can you say thank you to Mrs. Zamo?”

“Thank you Mrs. Zamo!” she echoed cheerfully, taking the backpack and her jacket as Leslie dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

“Honey, can you go wait for me on the bench for a minute?” she asked, tugging gently on one of her pigtails.

“Okay!”

As Grace skipped into the hallway to wait, Leslie turned to Katya, tears filling her eyes.

“I’m really so sorry about being late, I-”

“It’s okay,” Katya said, head tilted sympathetically. “I get it, things happen.”

“It’s been happening all week. I got this new job, and the hours are so tough and the commute is shit, but it’s an extra two dollars an hour and I can’t say no to that. But I just feel like...I feel like I can’t do anything right.”

“I understand,” Katya nodded, putting a hand on her arm. The truth was, though, she didn’t understand. Not really. She’d never been in a position where an extra two dollars an hour would make such a big difference in her life--not even when her dad cut her off. She’d always had money, and by the time her trust fund was depleted, she was living with Trixie, whose generous salary more than covered what they needed, her meager teacher’s salary mostly paying for fun extras, keeping them entertained and living their best lives, or just going in the bank.

She knew she was lucky, but until that moment, seeing the pain in Leslie’s eyes, the fear that she was failing at life and failing her child, maybe she didn’t understand just how lucky.

“I was sitting on the bus thinking about her waiting and waiting, wondering where I was.”

“Can I tell you something?” she asked softly. “Grace didn’t care that you were late, she was just happy to see you when you got here, because it’s really obvious what a good mom you are.”

“Sometimes I feel like the worst mom ever,” Leslie admitted, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“No way. Grace is an amazing kid. She’s smart and kind and enthusiastic--and it’s totally okay if you need some more help. That’s what all of us are here for. I can talk to Jasmine about maybe extending the hours next week, until you can get your schedule sorted. Or maybe Grace can go home with Joey’s mom...don’t you all live in the same building?”

Leslie nodded, a deep sigh leaving her. “Thanks, that’s a good idea. I...I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. Just remember that you’re not in this alone, you know?” Katya handed over a box of tissues from her desk.

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, I-” Leslie wiped her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry,” Katya said, giving her a warm hug.

***

“Oh god!” Gigi groaned, pushing the door to the modeling apartment open, her shoulders aching, her fingertips numb. “Finally!” She dumped her bags down in the hallway, slumping against the wall.

She had been around the town with Sutan all day, shopping for what he called a model wardrobe, Gigi trying on several pairs of heels and flats, her new backpack and purse stuffed with a newly printed book and her brand new phone, their last stop of the day Gigi’s new gym that was just around the corner.

“Gigi?” Bimini popped her head out of the kitchen door, the golden rim around her eyes and her crimped hair clear indicators that meant she had been shooting, Bimini rarely bothering with removing hair and makeup on set. “Welcome home sweetie! How did it go?”

“I’m exhausted!” Gigi pushed out from the wall and kicked her sneakers off. “Who knew shopping could be that hard?”

Gigi heard Symone giggle, her friend sitting at the table and painting her nails, the apartment's newest arrival chopping vegetables for whatever vegan crock pot Bimini was cooking for everyone. They had someone new arrive every couple of days, most girls only staying for a night or two in the bunk beds in what Naomi had dubbed the summer camp room before they were shipped off again if they didn’t interest any of the agents.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“I know,” Gigi groaned, dumping down in a chair to rest her aching feet, “but I thought you were kidding.” Symone had gone on the trip two weeks ago, her Instagram exploding with content now that she had a brand new phone to post with.

“Did he give you the drink speech too?”

She had eaten lunch with Sutan at an awkwardly fancy restaurant, three sets of cutlery surrounding her plate, her manager going through each set as well as her wine glasses, explaining it to her. Gigi’s mom had always insisted on good manners, but it hadn’t been anything like that.

“The ‘never leave your drink unattended’ one, I mean.”

“Mmh,” Gigi nodded. “The whole entire speech.”

She hoped it’d be unnecessary, but Sutan had run her through what he called the basic safety procedures like putting a hand or a napkin over her glass when she wasn’t paying attention, her manager drilling it into her skull that she shouldn’t accept poured drinks or opened bottles from strangers in clubs unless she saw the bartender prepare it.

“Is he seriously doing all that?” Naomi raised an eyebrow. “So far, all my agent has told me is that if I showed up in any tabloid looking messy, he’d drop my ass.”

Suddenly, Sutan’s mothering didn’t feel as smothering, the attention and assistance the man had poured over her nothing compared to the terrifying thought of being left basically on her own like Naomi.

***

At first, Katya wasn’t sure why she stopped at Macy’s on the way home. Especially now, on a Friday night during the holiday season, when the sales clerks were at their most frazzled.

She wandered around, unable to get Grace and Leslie out of her mind...and in particular, the look of pure joy on Grace’s face when her mother appeared in the doorway. Leslie was a single mom, and by the look of her, she was pretty young, but she had managed to raise an exceptional kid who was sure how much she was loved.

Why was Katya so afraid of having a baby? It was like she’d told Leslie--she wouldn’t be doing it alone. Not by a long shot. No, she was fortunate to have the most wonderful man in the universe by her side. And lord knew, Trixie would make up for any maternal instincts she may lack herself. And plenty of people, people much less capable and loving than her, had babies every day.

She stopped, looking around, realizing that she’d found herself in the baby department. Specifically, in front of a shelf full of tiny little infant shoes. She smiled to herself, knowing exactly what she needed.

When she arrived home, she was thrilled to see that Trixie had prepared dinner, heating up some leftover chicken and mashed potatoes and throwing together a salad--exactly what she was in the mood for.

She smiled when she saw him, announcing, “I brought you a present.”

Trixie’s face lit up, and for a split second she could imagine that exact same expression of joy on a tiny child, the thought making her insides warm as she handed him the little bag.

He looked inside, where the two tiny pink moccasin slippers sat in their plastic box, his head then snapping up to look at her with an expression of amazement.

“Kat, are you-” His eyes were bright with tears, hopeful but still a bit tentative.

She shrugged slightly, self-consciously, afraid to say what she’s been thinking out loud, but Trixie seemed to know anyway.

He rushed forward and swept her up into the biggest, tightest hug she’d ever had, repeating over and over how wonderful she was going to be. She took his face in her hands, kissing his tear-stained cheeks, finally sure that as a team, they could do it.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #vitan #bitney #bob x cracker #trixya #violet chachki #raja gemini #courtney act #bianca del rio #miz cracker #bob the drag queen #yvie oddly #pearl liaison #miss fame #trixie mattel #morgan mcmichaels #katya zamolodchikova #gigi goode #symone #bimini bon boulash #naomi smalls #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

[kitaychan]

White Flame

Chapter 2

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, Psychological Horror

General Summary:  Royal/ Magical AU.  As their two Kingdoms get closer to a war, the past keeps on hovering around their choices. Prince Ivan has a hard time controlling his magical powers while being tormented by a mysterious ghost and Prince Alfred embarcs in seeking a revenge that might cost more than it’s worth it.

Preview: He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

Maybe he was just a boy.

Ivan wasn’t sure of what had happened.

The luncheon had been peaceful, his mother was sitting there, preferring hot chocolate over the delicious pork that Ivan requested, she was a bit paler than normal but it wasn’t strange, these days the palace was colder, perhaps winter would come earlier.

Katya, his sister was nibbling the dessert when his father arrived, scowling as usual and refusing to eat, offering his drink to the queen. He complained about the newly acquired mage saying he was “fooling around instead of doing his work”. Ivan felt bad for the poor man, he remembered his father brought him along in the last trip, from a foreign land in the east.

Ivan had tried to caught the oriental man around the palace, curiosity was killing him, he wanted to ask about the customs, the stories about dragons that he heard from the knights, but his father wouldn’t allow him to, saying that the man was unwilling to share the secrets of their magic. Ivan didn’t blame him, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t share his magic with his father either.

The king reminded the boy about their practice the next day, as if he was reading Ivan’s thoughts, he underlined the importance of it as well as the obligatory nature of the task. Ivan wasn’t keen of their shared lectures, his father was always scolding him, calling him weak and lazy. It wasn’t his fault that the spells did not work, though, his unwillingness to utter them or cast them among defendless servants might have something to do with it.

The day had been so boring that he didn't remember much of it, just that he had to dinner alone while some servants walked around hurriedly.

When he lay in bed waiting for his mother to kiss him goodnight, he could distinguish the sound of a clock, marking each second, the sound was distant, echoing in the halls.

He pondered the idea of searching the clock but refrained from it, he didn't want a punishment for being out of bed.

Ivan, waited and waited until his eyelids closed and he drifted to sleep.

His mother didn't showed up that night.

In the morning as he was sleeping soundly in his bed, glad that his father had ceased taking him on those long and horrible trips and happy that his dreams didn’t turn into the constant nightmare with the bloodied wolf, he heard his sister sobbing.

She was by his side, waiting for him to wake up. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks stained with tears. Ivan didn't know what to do, she hugged him tightly, assuring that she was going to be there for him. For what? Ivan didn't know, he only nodded as his sister kept crying and mumbling nonsenses to him.

Two days later the weight of the situation was setting in his mind. His mother was not going to greet him in the mornings anymore, she wasn’t there to wake him from his nightmares and lull him into sleep again. Though, Katya was there as she said, she was clueless, she didn’t know why the gray wolf mounted in the trophy hall was covered. She didn’t understand why Ivan dreaded the weekly practices with their father.

Somehow, in a short span of time his father had managed to look even more menacing, whenever he casted his glance at him, Ivan felt as if he blamed him for his mother’s death.

Ivan had refused to prepare for the funeral. There were relatives he didn’t know around the palace giving him pitiful glances and some of them even dared to speak to him about his mother. How could they? they’ve never showed themselves when she was alive, why should he listen to them now?

When the third unknown relative approached him at the table, Ivan left behind his untouched meal and ran directly to his room. Kicking off his shoes and tossing the black coat they had made him wear.

After some minutes his father and Katya entered in his room. His sister proceeded to silently dress him back.

“You’ll go downstairs, greet everyone and stay until they go to sleep.” The glare his father gave him was enough for Ivan to understand he shouldn't talk back.

Katya’s voice was soft. “Father, perhaps we should let him rest. Vaneshka hasn’t slept very well as of lately.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, Yekaterina. Go and greet the guests.” The harshness of his voice made the siblings flinch.

While Ivan observed the way she was hurriedly tying his shoes, the thought that had been haunting him since he got the news from his mother’s death assaulted him once again.

Even when his sister promised to be there for him, which was precisely what she was doing. She had only a bit of influence in the palace.  

Katya could not protect him from their father.

----

The day was sunny, the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind was all Natalya could hear, she was glancing out of the window, silent, she should be sleeping but she couldn’t, she was eager to go out of the carriage and spin around with  that nice black dress her mother had prepared.

Today she was finally going to visit his cousin, her mother was always talking about him, telling her how to behave in front of him. Each year the king gifted her a portrait alongside some silk ribbons, she made sure to wear one each day.

She hadn't seen him since he was five years old or so they said, she didn’t remember very well, but it was not her fault to be younger than him, it was a miracle she knew whom they were talking about. But it didn’t matter, she knew that he was just as charming as they had told her. After all his father always said that she deserved nothing less than a prince. Natalya imagined he had to be just like that, a prince, just like the tales her mother read to her at night.

When the time finally came, Natalya glued herself to the carriage's window, to get a glimpse of him, they would be arriving soon. She admired the city, the ornamental gate, the beautiful gardens, the entrance with  the servants all dressed in black.

Stepping out of the carriage, she observed in awe at the beautiful and obviously bigger palace his cousin lived in.

The doors were opened and she finally saw him.

He was dressed in a simple way, at least in comparison to her, who had been hours trying to look as well as possible. She greeted him and he responded shyly, hiding behind his sister.

To Natalia, it was confusing, she was expecting him to take her hand or to bring flowers like in the fairytales but she supposed it was going to happen later, after all they were just children, he was  nine years old.

After the boring ceremony held for the deceased queen, her mother sent her to speak with the prince, to cheer him up.

Natalya complied, chatting and starting a silly game of hide and seek in the gardens. She let him win, that’s what her mother instructed her to do. It would make him happy but he looked bored and was more interested in the surroundings than in the game itself. Noticing this, Natalya tried to start a conversation.

“Do you like that tree?” she asked, leaning forward and trying to peek over his shoulder.

He pushed her back and sighed. “ No, I am looking at the bird in it.” Then he pointed at a branch in the tree.

There was in fact a gray bird with white and black rings around the neck and a fluffy white belly.   Natalia thought it was a pretty simple bird, this wasn’t the kind of conversation her mother had said he’d be interested in, instead he was just as any other boy she had talked with. Perhaps, her mother was wrong, this boy wasn’t a prince just yet, maybe he was just a boy.

Natalya decided to act naturally and not how she had practiced, stating her opinion. “I don’t know much about animals, I think they are noisy, especially birds.  Do you like birds?”

There was a small silence and Natalya shifted uncomfortably, had she done something wrong?

Her cousin smiled. “Not really,” -he shrugged- “I just think that one is cute.”

Natalya smiled back and lifted an eyebrow.  “Why? Is it because it’s gray, like the wolf?”

He tensed considerably. “No...I don’t know, it’s big and fluffy, it looks like it has a beard.”

Natalia looked up at the bird again and giggled. “it does look like it has a beard.”

He sat in the grass and scoffed. “If it had a hat it would look like your father.”

Natalya frowned, was that an insult?

“I don’t think so, it would resemblance the priest.” She said sitting beside him.

“The priest?”

She nodded. “Yes, didn't you see him?”

“He doesn't look like that.” he looked confused.

“He does, I talked with him. I asked him when I could marry” she whined putting her hands on her lap, playing with the fabric of the dress.

He just turned to look at the bird again.

She shook his shoulder “Aren’t you going to ask me when I can marry?”  

He looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. "No. My father is always saying that my sister has to marry, that he’ll pick with whom, why would you want to know when you’ll marry? If father is ordering Katya to think about that it can’t be good. You shouldn’t be excited."

She shook her head. “That’s not true. My parents say that marriage is a good thing, that it brings joy and wealth. You’ll have to marry one day too.”

He seemed surprised as if the idea hadn’t cross his mind before. He crossed his arms and denied childishly. “I don't want to.”

Natalya laughed at his response. “Why not? I could be a nice queen and when you are the king you can get more of those birds. We will be very happy.”

He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

----

Later that night, Natalya was sneaking to his room, she was going to give him a gift to show him her affection. She tiptoed through the corridor and opened his door slowly. The floor creaked under her tiny feet and he woke up, seeming startled to see her there. She put a finger on her lips motioning him to keep quiet.

She gave him a box and a kiss on the cheek and left the room closing the door behind her. She was giggling, waiting for him to open it and to go out and thank her.

What happened next was a blur to Natalya.

A shrieking scream resounded on the halls, some doors were opened, and she heard hasty steeps getting near.

She was pushed back and the door of his room opened. She saw him, sobbing with the bird on his hands, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. Then, he started shouting at her, she didn’t understand why, all she had done was to get that stupid bird for him and there he was speaking nonsense to her.

She started crying, the king entered the room and he stopped his noisy cries. The hateful glace the prince gave her when he stood up made her shriek, what had she done wrong?  She kept sobbing in the hall, while the prince pointed at her and accused her with the king. The icy glare of the latter stayed in her memory for years after the incident, alongside the sound of the door closing in front of her.

#hetalia #aph russia #axis powers hetalia #aph belarus #aph ukraine #hetalia fanfiction #hws russia #hws ukraine #hws belarus #hetalia world series

[flopgoblins]

Unconventional

Or: 3 weddings and a funeral. Weird things happen when you’re a celebrity. Mostly at conventions.

1. Katya

The girl was wearing Halley High knee socks and the ubiquitous plaid cheer skirt that Katya hadn’t felt the same about since Matt’s story about what happened after the cross-dressing photoshoot. The pigtails were a given. The extensions were off the rack, but the eyeliner was applied straighter than Katya could ever manage herself, and she told the girl so, eliciting a flustered giggle and a babble of thanks. Katya was glad she’d held herself back from making a joke about how hard it was for her to do anything straight, since it would have killed her publicist and made the girl turn an even brighter red. Plus, she’d stolen the line from Matt.

The boy was rather less effectively dressed as Wally, complete with cheap red wig, and Katya refused to examine him any further than that after feeling the bulge in his pocket when he hugged her for the photo opp. It wasn’t the first time, but it never got any less gross. At least he hadn’t made any comments about how hot it would be to see her and his girlfriend make out in matching outfits, but-

“Vanessa, there’s something I need to ask you. Um, and hopefully Katya doesn’t mind.”

Oh god.

Katya turned, ready to signal to the assistant standing off to the side of the backdrop, but then she realized the faux Wally was kneeling. The bulge in his pocket was gone, and in his hand was a small black box.

Katya let out an involuntary cackle of laughter, and clapped her hands over her mouth. Almost as mortifying as an erection in JCPenney khakis, but tragically longer lasting.

Next to her, the girl in pigtails burst into tears.

“Will you marry me?”

What followed was the predictable flurry of snotty affirmations, damp selfies, and fans still waiting in line craning their necks to see what the holdup was. Katya made as many exclamations of delight as she felt she could before warranting a SAG award, and then hustled the enfianced couple towards the exit.

But first….

“Wink twice if you need a way out,” Katya whispered to the still tremulous girl as she hugged her. “Totally understand if you only said yes because of the circumstances, it was a super weird position for him to put you in. And me. Romantic, of course. Sort of. But I can get you out the back door if you need an escape. No? Sure? Okay. Congratulations.” She released the girl, blew a kiss with a spangle-nailed hand, and turned to greet the next group.

“Oh hey! So great to meet you! You will not believe what happened with the last people who came through…”

2. Nico

Nico was still new enough to it that the meet and greets were both novel and incredibly weird. Matt and Katya didn’t even seem to register them anymore, viewing them with about the same lassitude they viewed comicon panels or table reads, but since Nico found panels and reads pretty fucking exciting, photo opps were still a definite thing. And, like having strangers touch your hair and face every morning to get you camera ready, a definite mixture of cool and intensely bizarre. He wasn’t sure if it was weirder to have people paying actual money to meet him - and hug him, and sometimes burst into tears - or to call him by Jack’s name instead of his own.

“You get paid either way,” Matt said, who’d just been Wally’d no fewer than a dozen times.

“Yeah, but,” said Nico, “they know we’re not them, right?”

Matt gave him a gentle, pitying smile, and then both were dragged off for the next round.

After some time, Nico got into the flow of it. He could almost always find something to compliment fans on - their costumes, or their memory for Halley High lore, on which he could generally go toe-to-toe, or their ability to quote his lines back to him word perfect. Katya and Matt had described all of it as vaguely awkward and mostly boring, but Nico liked it, up until the point something happened that he was pretty sure they’d been lying to him about.

‘At some point,’ Matt had said, ‘They’ll do something weird in front of you.’

‘Yeah,’ said Katya. ‘Like get you to roleplay with them.’

‘Or propose,’ said Matt.

‘Aw, fuck off,’ said Nico, who was used to them messing with him at this point.

“Sasha,” said the girl with purple streaks in her hair. “I’m asking you here, in the sight of the greatest thespian of our generation, to do me the very great honor-”

“Oh!” said Nico, and covered his mouth.

“Oh, Fern!” said Sasha, whose shirt proclaimed her a member of Wallack Nation.

“-of marrying me.”

Nico moved his hands from his mouth to his eyes as Sasha flung herself into Fern’s arms. “Oh wow! Oh my gosh!” He uncovered his eyes, saw tongue, and covered them again.

“Oh my god! Did you know that was gonna happen? Holy sh- Wow! Uh. It feels weird that I’m here. Should I leave? Kelsi, please don’t charge them the $75 for the photo opp, this one’s on me. Seriously, should I leave?”

3. Jordie

The rest of them always wrapped up meet and greets before Jordie did. Part of this was because Jordie was bad at ending conversations, and tended to let fans run riot over him, killing the time limit and the event manager’s soul. The rest of it was because Jordie’s line of fans was twice as long as anyone but Matt’s, and Jordie hated turning anyone away.

“Look on my works, ye mighty,” murmured Matt, forty-five minutes after the rest of them had finished and were still waiting for Jordie to re-emerge. He flipped his wrist, looked at his watch, and tilted against the wall. “And despair. I have seen the future, and it is blond, peppy, and nineteen.”

Katya was scrolling the #jordieswiftsdcc tag and perusing selfies from the line. “This person waited two hours to see him and is pretty much creaming herself for the opportunity. This person waited three hours and is getting his signature tattooed on her wrist. And this one looks like he’s had some minor plastic surgery to look more like him.”

“Jesus,” said Nico, horrified. He knew they sometimes forgot that their little cast member, who tended to have half the screentime and a third the lines the rest of them did, was not only a fan favorite but had amassed 5 million subscribers on YouTube for a reason. “Poor Jordie.”

Katya clicked ‘report’ on a Tweet that Nico couldn’t read beyond the handle, which was @jordieswift_tongue_my_taint. She slid her phone into her back pocket and tilted against the wall next to Matt. “Competition, Tiny. Your agency is gonna have a cow if he starts to surpass you.”

Matt curled his lip in what might have been a smirk. “My agency should just sign him and turn me out to stud.”

Katya slid down the wall until she was squatting on her heels, fringe from her boho vest brushing the floor. She dragged her finger through the dust on the ground. “Tiny ginger babies cropping up in pastures everywhere next spring. Seabiscuit, out of Georgina, by Matt.”

Matt prodded her until she tipped off her heels and sprawled on the floor. “I’m happy to sell my semen but if they actually need me to mount anyone-”

“Guys, please,” said Nico. He was getting antsy, ready to go get dinner, and bouncing a little on his toes to keep himself awake. “There are kids around. Maybe less with the semen?”

Matt dodged Katya’s attempt to pull herself up on his ankle. “How about the mounting, is the mounting okay?”

Katya grinned from the floor. “Oh, I’m sure Nico’s okay with you mounting-”

Matt yawned. “Where the hell is Jordie?” he said. “Seriously, they’re shutting down the venue any minute now.”

“Let’s go look,” said Katya, and clambered upright, scooping up her purse in one hand and Nico’s arm in the other.

Jordie was down to the last fan, but it was immediately clear why it was running over time. It wasn’t just a matter of exceeding the allotted five minutes so much as a ‘death do us part’ thing, given the fact the fan was down on one knee and Jordie looked about 30 seconds away from a nervous breakdown.

“Oh dear,” said Matt. “They got him.”

“I’ll call security,” said Katya.

Nico ignored them both and dashed towards the unfolding scene, where Jordie was babbling helplessly.

“Wait, me? You’re asking me? Oh no! I thought this was about - I thought you were going to propose to someone el- Please stop kneeling. I have - Listen, I have a- Okay, my agent didn’t tell me what to do if this happened? I think my contract says no. I’m sorry! Okay, please don’t - um, please don’t - ”

Nico took one look at the ardent worship on the fan’s face and their outstretched hand, one look at the panic in Jordie’s eyes, and leapt into the fray. “Whoa, hey. Yo! I object!”

“Wh?” said Jordie.

“I’m so sorry,” said Nico, grabbing Jordie’s arm and securing him protectively against his side. “I’m so sorry, but he can’t marry you. Bigamy’s illegal, you see, and he’s already engaged.”

“He is?” said the fan blankly. Nico could almost see them scrolling Jordie’s Wikipedia page in their mind, searching for the ‘personal life’ section.

“I am?” said Jordie, looking as terrified as if he’d actually forgotten.

The fan’s mental scroll had clearly come up blank because their eyes narrowed. “To who?”

“Whom,” said Nico, because children of English professors never missed a cue. “Uh.” He hadn’t thought this all the way through, but realized at once he couldn’t go for his first instinct and throw Katya under the bus. For one thing, it would only encourage the #katyathecougar hashtag, and for another, she might hurt him. He’d deserve it, too. “To me, of course.”

“Wh?” said Jordie.

“Come along, dumpling,” said Nico, and swept him away.

Katya and Matt watched as Nico hustled them both through an ‘emergency exit only’ door, Matt with arms folded, Katya with her phone still out and security ringing through on the other end.

“Well,” said Matt. “If Jack/Silas wasn’t a thing before, it sure as hell will be now. Quick, Kat, bookmark the tag on AO3.”

“Be honest, Matty,” said Katya, as con organizers descended on the still-kneeling fan. “You’re a leettle bit jealous that Jordie got the proposal before you did.”

“I’ve been proposed to no less than five times, Kit-Kat.”

“But never,” said Katya, with a sly smirk. “By Nico Martin.”

4. Matt

The woman clutched a silver urn in one hand and Matt’s fingers in the other. It had been at least five minutes and Matt’s smile was at risk of becoming a rictus, so he changed it to a look of quiet sympathy.

“He would have loved to meet you,” said the woman, pressing Matt’s hand even tighter. “Gloucester Lost was his favorite movie. And we had the box set of NICU: NYC. Watched it nightly.”

“I’m so glad he liked it,” said Matt. He eyed the urn, in which resided the last earthly remains of Milton Heslop, apparently Matt’s biggest fan. His agent would not be pleased to know that one of Matt’s most dedicated viewers was dust, but he supposed this was what came of approaching thirty. An aging fanbase was just what a turn on Halley High was supposed to prevent, but he supposed a woman holding her dead husband was better than yet another red wig and loosely glued protuberance. “Would you like a picture?”

“I’ve been going to all his favorite places,” said the woman, still latched to Matt’s hand like she was one of the parasite wasps from episode five and he was - well, himself. “I scattered some of his ashes at Yosemite, and some at Dollywood. He always wanted to see the Space Needle, but they wouldn’t let me through the metal detector. I thought of the beach at Gloucester, of course, where Vincent tried to drown himself, but-”

But that particular beach didn’t exist, since they’d done all their shooting in Rhode Island for tax reasons.

“-but then I thought I could do one better.”

“A photo?” said Matt again, a little desperately. The pill he taken with breakfast - ‘breakfast’ might have been a generous description, but with his morning coffee and kahlua, anyway - was wearing thin, and he would have given a finger for the chance to smoke a cigarette. Going cold turkey this week had been a mistake, no matter how much he liked being able to kiss Nico without brushing his teeth first. “We can take a - There’s a photographer right - ma’am, do you-”

She’d finally let go of his hand and was busily unscrewing the top of the urn.

“Ma’am,” said Matt, but he didn’t leap back in time. Slowed reflexes, another sin imparted by the cold turkey.

“This is for you, Milton,” said the woman sorrowfully, and upended the urn at Matt’s feet.

“Well,” said Matt later, brushing grey dust off his lapels, “I’ve had two proposals and one break-up at fan events, but I can say that was my first consecration of human remains. Slightly less awkward than the proposals, honestly. Kelsi, do you have a wet wipe? Or a vacuum?”

As the event manager hurried over with some hand sanitizer and a damp paper towel, Matt shot a glance at Katya, who was shaking helplessly in the corner with tears streaming down her face. “Kitty, if you don’t get me something to smoke and I mean now, I’m doing to sneeze Milton all over your McQueen.”

“I’ll see what I can rustle up at the crematorium,” said Katya, and dissolved into laughter once again.

#star boys #matt rose #katya walker #nico martin #jordie swift #bonus episode #craving star boys content? WAIT NO LONGER

[master-sass-blast]

Pride

WE INTERRUPT THE PREVIOUSLY SCHEDULED CONTENT BECAUSE-

LADIES, LORDS, AND NOBLE GENTRY OF NON-CONFORMING GENDER IDENTITIES-

IT’S MOTHERFUCKING PRIDE MONTH!!!!

And the way I see it, we can’t do Pride month without having at least one (1) Pride themed fic. Which is why I stopped working on the previously scheduled content for this week and busted out a Pride themed fic instead!

Which is this fic here! In case... that wasn’t... clear...

Anywho.

Summary: You and Piotr take some of the teens at the X-Mansion to New York City’s Pride festival --and meet some interesting people while you’re there.

Rating: T for moderate language. If it wasn’t for that, this fic would be G.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

(Author’s Note One: I know that Kitty is alluded to possibly being bisexual in some of the comics. Here, she’s queer in the sense that she doesn’t quite know where she lands yet, but she knows she’s not straight. Considering I have her around 17, I figured having her be a little more ambiguous --since she’s in the early stages of her journey in discovering herself--was fitting.

Author’s Note Two: I headcanon Illyana as asexual. Also, asexual/aromantic people belong in the queer community/at Pride. If you don’t like any of that, die mad about it.

Author’s Note Three: Lzzy Hale does identify as bisexual/pansexual, which is why I decided to write in Halestorm performing at Pride (aside from my obsession with them). Basically, I just want to be clear that I’m not writing in a straight person performing at a Pride festival, say, for instance, Ariana Grande. *side-eyes Manchester*

Author’s Note Four: Your sexuality, as the Reader, is kept entirely ambiguous. There are several sexuality and/or gender identities (and combinations therein) that “allow” for being attracted to and in a relationship with a cisgender, heterosexual man (which is how I write Piotr), so I didn’t want to stick a label on the Reader’s “character” and ruin the immersion for everyone who doesn’t identify with that label. If you do identify as queer, then feel free to imagine yourself in whatever Pride themed gear you have, and as attending Pride as a queer person in a relationship with a straight person! If not, your role in the story is strictly what it says in the fic: to help Piotr chaperone the teens and to support the students in embracing the most authentic versions of themselves, whatever that may be! Just so we’re all clear.)

Tag list: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

“—and stay together… Kitty, are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah, totally!”

You can’t help but chuckle at your boyfriend’s exasperated expression as Kitty Pryde, one of the latest teen trainees to come to Xavier’s, continues bouncing back and forth to whatever song she was listening to on her phone.

Summer’s normally a low-key time for the Institute. Most of the students only stay for the traditional school year, which means that the summer season sees a mass exodus of most of the mansion’s temporary residents and trainees. Save for missions and training, summer’s usually an entirely dialed back, relaxed affair.

Except for June.

One thing you’ve learned since arriving at Xavier’s is that minority groups have a way of overlapping. Several of the mutants that attend Xavier’s identify as queer in some way, shape, or form –and most of the permanent residents were queer as well, having been kicked out of their homes for the identity and genetics.

Sad as the rejection rates are, you’ve witnessed firsthand just how hard the staff at Xavier’s worked to make sure that all their residents feel accepted, supported, and loved.

Including taking teenaged and adult residents to New York City’s annual Pride festival.

Illyana, already decked out in her usual muted colors and a shirt dyed with the asexual Pride flag colors, purses her lips as Kitty bobs her head back and forth. “Katya –Katya, sit still.”

“I am!” Kitty insists as she continues bouncing up and down and mouthing the lyrics to whatever she’s listening to. “I’m totally chill!”

You bite back a snort as Illyana narrows her eyes—

And then the blonde teen yanks none too gently on Kitty’s hair.

“Ow!” Kitty shrieks, dropping her phone as she claps her hands to her head. “What the heck!”

“You want hair braided, da?” Illyana plucks the earbuds out of her friend’s ears and tilts Kitty’s head back so the –barely—younger teen can see her displeased expression. “Sit. Still.”

“Gentle, snezhinka,” Piotr says to his baby sister, tone warning.

“Yeah,” Kitty agrees, smoothing her shirt with a rainbow patterned Star of David silk-screened on the front. “Chill out, ‘yana.”

“Are we almost ready?” Ellie asks as she bounds into the kitchen, Yukio hot on her heels. “We need to leave in ten minutes if we want to get a good spot to see Halestorm play.”

Piotr had volunteered –and you along with him—to chaperone the trip this year, which basically amounted to herding a bunch of particularly fickle cats all over the place.

“Chill, dude,” Kitty says as she tries to reach for her phone. “It’s just a rock band.”

“Just a rock band?” Ellie and Illyana say simultaneously, aghast.

“Are you sure we have this handled?” you whisper to your boyfriend as Ellie and Illyana both start in on separate rants about Lzzy Hale’s status as a queer woman and the classifications of rock versus metal music, respectively.

“I am having second thoughts,” Piotr admits, grimacing slightly. “But I think it will all be worth-while at conclusion.”

You smile and kiss his shoulder. “I think so, too.”

“Wait, are you still in your pajama pants?” Ellie props herself up on the counter –and, sure enough, Kitty’s only half-dressed. “Are you fucking serious, Pryde? Do you want us to end up at the fucking fringes?”

“Language, NTW,” Piotr interjects before things can get too out of hand. “Self-control, please. Kitty, why are you not dressed?”

“Well, ‘yana was going to braid my hair—”

“Which I cannot do—” Illyana yanks Kitty’s head up again, prompting another yelp from the brunette “—if you keep moving!”

Kitty glares at her impromptu stylist. “You’re a real sadist, you know.”

“Okay,” you say, picking up Kitty’s phone and earbuds and holding them out of reach. “How about you sit still and let Illyana do your hair, and then go get dressed. Ellie, why don’t you work with Piotr and get us packed up, if you’re so worried about being late.”

“Good idea, Y/N,” Piotr says, mouthing a quick “thank you” at you when Kitty finally sits still with a huff.

You wink and blow a kiss at him, then turn when the back door swings open.

Wade strolls in, wearing a black t-shirt that says “It’s time to pan-ic” with the text colored like the pansexual pride flag; Nathan follows, wearing a tank top that says “Bi until I die” with each row of text matching an individual stripe from the bisexual pride flag.

Kitty grins. “Damn. Looking cool, dudes.”

“Always do, Snickers.”

Illyana blinks. “What?”

“He started calling me ‘Kit-Kat,’” Kitty explains with a resigned sigh. “And then it just escalated into other candies.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sour lemon drop.”

Your snort and shake your head before heading off to help Piotr and Ellie pack up the car.

***

Fortunately for Kitty’s existence and Ellie’s sanity, you arrive with plenty of time to get a good spot for the Pride concert.

“Sunscreen,” Piotr insists before Ellie can dart off to get the best possible spot remaining. He clasps her shoulder and holds a bottle of SPF 100 out to her. “Please and thank you.”

“No way!” Kitty gripes when Piotr holds a second bottle out to her. “I want to tan.”

“You’re ninety percent European Jew by ancestry,” Ellie fires off. “You’ll just burn.”

“Yeah, but it’ll turn into a tan. Duh.”

“Use the sunscreen,” Wade says with a cheery smile as he puts on a lightweight hoodie and a baseball cap. “If you don’t, you’ll wind up looking like me.”

Kitty grimaces and recoils. “Ew!”

“Be nice!” Illyana hisses, elbowing her friend in the side.

“It’s all good,” Wade says with a shrug as Kitty starts slathering herself in sunscreen. “I’m all for scaring people into making better life choices.”

***

The lot of you manage to get a spot about thirty feet back from the stage where most of the artists are performing. With Wade in a hoodie and cap and Nathan in a jacket and sunglasses, no one even gives you a second glance.

And then Halestorm comes onstage, and the music kicks in, and then the amount of glances you get plunges into the negative numbers.

Not that you can blame anyone for it. The energy the band manages to kick up is astounding.

Ellie looks like she’s seeing the face of God for the first time. She’s more animated than you’ve ever seen her, singing along to the lyrics of every song with flawless accuracy.

You and Piotr share a smile behind her back. So precious.

Halfway through the set, Piotr kneels down and puts his trainee up on his shoulders so she has a better view of the stage.

You manage to snap a quick picture of Ellie’s grinning face. That’s one for the memory books.

***

Ellie practically dives off Piotr’s shoulders once Halestorm walks off the stage.

“Blyad!” Piotr yelps, startled –Illyana barks out a quick laugh—as he catches Ellie from face-planting into the pavement. “Slow down!”

“Okay, I get why you were so excited to see them live,” Kitty says, grinning. “Lzzy’s super hot.”

“Told you,” Illyana and Ellie say in unison.

Ellie starts rummaging through her bag. “My aunt got us VIP passes to go to the signing. If we leave now, we should get there when things kick off.”

“Yeah, right,” Kitty argues. “We’re basically at the front of the crowd. There’s no way we’ll get there ahead of everyone else.”

Illyana’s eyes light up. “Everyone, grab on to me.”

Piotr frowns. “Snezhinka, nyet—”

She smiles impishly at her older brother as Ellie, Yukio, Kitty, Wade, and Nate grab onto her arms. “Sozhaleyu, medvezhonok.”

And then she winks out of view, taking everyone with her.

You bite back a laugh as Piotr’s expression morphs into one of brotherly fury. “Come on. We can check out the vendor stalls while they get their autographs.”

“Except Kitty, Yukio, and Ellie are all minors, and I am responsible for them as chaperone.”

“Oh. Right.” You do laugh this time, then squeeze his hand when he gives you a consternated look. “Well, let’s go collect our kids, then.”

***

By the time the two of you reach the autograph area, Nathan and Wade already have the teens waiting outside the security checkpoint.

Ellie’s practically vibrating with excitement as she shoves a CD case with a silver signature inked on it in Piotr’s face. “Check it out!”

“Very nice,” Piotr says with a smile equal parts indulgent and fond.

“She signed my hand, too!”

“And now you’re never going to wash that hand again,” Wade jokes.

“No,” Ellie says with a frown. “That’s gross, even by your standards.”

“Not really, considering I never wash my hands to begin with.”

Kitty gags and claps a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Alright, everyone,” you say with an amused eye roll. “Let’s go find a place to sit for lunch.”

***

You wind up running into some of the college students and other fledgling adults that train with the X-Men and end up sitting with them.

“Yeah, my aunt brought me to the parade last year,” Ellie says, recounting her first experience with Pride. “After I came out.”

Wade nods, genuinely listening and conversing for once. “‘Ness and I went together each year after we got together.”

“Cool.”

“I got arrested by a cop one year for streaking.”

“Not cool.”

“I went to Tokyo Pride with my older brothers last year,” Yukio chimes in, smiling happily as she munches away at a sandwich. “What about you, Illyana?”

“Ah, not so much for me,” Illyana says, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Russia… does not have as much for us.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got Colossus here,” Kitty pipes up around a mouthful of pizza. “You can celebrate with us.”

Illyana favors the brunette with a small smile. “Da.”

“What about you, Cable?” Yukio asks, smiling sweetly. “Are there Pride celebrations in the future?”

“Not really,” Nathan replies. “We’re too busy trying to survive and win the war against Apocalypse to have parades.”

Kitty pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ, you’re so depressing.”

Nathan smirks. “There’s not as much fuss about sexuality, either. Or polyamory. Love is love, and considering the people that you love might be gone in a moment, you have to make every second count.”

“At least you got that right,” Ellie mutters.

Wade elbows his boyfriend in the side. “C’mon, Cabesy. You have to admit—” he waves a hand grandly at the bright, colorful celebration all around you “—that this isn’t half bad.”

Nate’s smirk grows into a smile, and he concedes with a nod. “Not half bad at all.”

***

The lot of you spend the rest of the afternoon checking out the various stalls and vendor stands.

A lot of them are being run by corporate representatives. An… alarming number, really.

Nathan scowls when you pass by a booth being run by Comcast, of all things. “I thought this was supposed to be a celebration for the queer community.”

“It is,” Wade says. “At its core, it is.”

“The capitalist death machine knows no boundaries or sense of appropriateness,” Ellie says flatly.

“This is part of the problem, you know,” Nate growls, jerking his thumb at the Comcast booth. “Corporations keep sinking their claws into everything they can and milk it for all it’s worth. When they finally collapse, there isn’t anything left for the rest of humanity.”

“Okay, maybe save the depressing stuff for later?” Kitty pipes up.

“It’s okay.” Wade squeezes Nathan’s hand. “We can maim the Comcast CEO later this week if you want.”

“Nyet,” Piotr interjects. “Absolutely not.”

Wade waves a dismissive hand at your boyfriend. “Relax, Chrome Dome. I didn’t say you had to come along.”

“How about we save all conversations relating to bodily harm of others until we’re not within earshot of minors and a thousand or so witnesses,” you hiss before an actual disagreement can break out. “Capiche?”

***

Towards the end of your time at the festival, you all wind up stumbling across a photography group run by queer individuals. The banner over the table reads “Snapshot Studios” in crisp, jet black letters, and countless shots of people, animals, and nature shots are on display for everyone to see.

“Wow,” Kitty says, admiring a picture of a sunset over a lake. “This is seriously cool.”

“Thank you,” a young man with curly hair that’s been dyed blue says. He extends his hand and introduces himself as Aiden, one of the principle photographers for the studio. “We’re in the middle of doing a Pride-themed series, for obvious reasons. You can check it out on our website.” He hands out business cards to each of you. “If any of you are interested in participating, you can contact us at the email address on the card. There’s no fee involved; we just take your picture and ask you questions about your experience as a queer person.” He glances off to the side, where Wade’s staring intently at one of the pictures. “Hey, buddy. You like the look of something?”

You crane your neck to see which picture Wade’s looking at, and –oh. That’s a familiar face.

Wade gazes longingly at a picture of Vanessa, dressed up in a strappy black dress and winking at the camera. He lifts his hand, almost as though he wants to reach out and touch her face, then clearly thinks better of it and jams it in his sweatshirt pocket.

“That’s from our sex worker positivity collection,” Aiden says, still studying Wade carefully.

“I know,” Wade says, somewhat sadly. “That’s my ex-girlfriend.”

Aiden’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Uh… I take it things didn’t work out?”

Wade grimaces. “She died.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.” Aiden regards Wade thoughtfully for a moment, then reaches over and takes down Vanessa’s picture. “Here.” He holds the picture out to Wade. “Take it home with you. No charge.”

Wade blinks at him for a moment, shocked, then gently takes the photo out of Aiden’s hands. He gazes down at it for a moment, tracing Vanessa’s face lovingly, then reaches out for Nathan’s hand before looking back up at Aiden. “Thank you.”

Nate squeezes Wade’s hand gently, a soft smile on his face.

“No problem, man. Hey, if you don’t mind my asking, are you a burn victim?”

“Ah, no.” Wade shrugs one shoulder, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Mutation side effect.”

“You’re a mutant?” Aiden’s eyebrows go up again.

“We all are,” you clarify, gesturing at your little group.

“Really? That’s super cool. I had no idea.”

“It’s not exactly something we show off,” Ellie pipes up. “There aren’t many mutations that alter physical appearance, either.”

“Makes sense,” Aiden says, nodding. “So, did you guys just happen to meet up with each other, or…”

“We work with Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters,” Piotr says, handing Aiden a business card of his own as he steps into the conversation for the first time.

Aiden grins as he eyes the card. “So, you’re X-Men. I thought you guys were on full-time hero duty.”

“They have a rotating schedule,” Wade interjects.

“We also have to take care of students,” Piotr says, eyeing Wade sternly. “Part of that is ensuring they connect to necessary communities.”

“That’s super dope, man. I know a lot of parents who wouldn’t do that.”

You have to drift away at that point to keep an eye on Kitty and Illyana, who’ve wandered down a few booths. By the time you get them to circle back to Piotr and the rest of the group, Piotr and Aiden seem to be wrapping up what seems like an intense discussion.

You eye your boyfriend quizzically as you all head back to the car. “What was that all about?”

Piotr smiles as he tucks Aiden’s business card into his wallet. “Networking.”

***

It takes a couple weeks, but you eventually figure out what “networking” means.

As chance would have it, Aiden and his coworkers are extremely interested in including mutants in this year’s Pride-themed photography series. It takes a little finagling to get some of the waivers worked out for the underage students who want to participate, and then it takes even more finagling to get a date and mutant safe location worked out, but eventually everything smooths out.

They wind up setting up in one of the training rooms first –to get the shots that require powers like Ellie’s or Russell’s, which means that the training rooms are the safest place to set up—then move out to the grounds behind the manor for the rest of the shoot.

Ellie’s aunt, Brie Phimister –who’s a spitting image of Ellie, just with wavy hair and a slightly longer face—shows up for the second part of the shoot, decked out in her Pride gear.

“So, you’re a mutant, too?” one of Aiden’s coworkers –CJ, you think—asks while Aiden gets shots of Ellie, Brie, and Yukio together.

“Yup,” you confirm, popping the ‘p.’ “I can control air –which basically means I can fly plus some fun stuff.”

“That’s super rad,” probably CJ says with a lax grin. “Hey –Aiden! She can fly!”

“No way.” Aiden grins back at you once he finishes taking his latest set of shots. “Stick around until the end. I’d like to get some shots of that, if that’s cool with you.”

You grin back. “Sure thing.”

***

It’s late evening by the time everything wraps up.

Kitty mugs for the camera like she’s born for it, and almost seems a little put out by being told to head inside.

The highlight of the whole thing, though (in your opinion), are the shots CJ manages to get of Nathan and Wade.

Wade, unsurprisingly, seemed a bit nervous about having his picture taken. He’d been stiff, barely smiling or looking at the camera—

And then Nathan had looped an arm around his boyfriend’s neck and pressed a fat kiss against Wade’s cheek.

The smile that had broken out across Wade’s face was nothing short of wonderful.

The other highlight of the day is when Piotr comes out as things wrap up, armored up and in his X-Men uniform.

Aiden gawks, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as Piotr strolls towards everyone. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Language, please,” Piotr says with a polite gesture towards Ellie and Yukio. “Young ones are present.”

Aiden blinks, clearly thrown, but recovers quickly enough. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, dude. You look seriously cool.”

“That’s what I said when I first met him,” you comment, grinning widely at your boyfriend.

“Understandable.” Aiden looks over at you. “And you can fly?”

You summon an air current by way of answering and lift yourself a few feet off the ground, twirling and somersaulting slowly as you drift towards the sky.

“Okay, can you do that again?” Aiden asks as he gets his camera ready. “Except over here –yeah, perfect. Okay, go! Alright, look at me and smile –eh, a little more teeth… perfect…”

You do as you’re told, grinning and twirling in the air while Aiden gets the shots he wants. “How do I look, babe?” you ask Piotr with a giggle.

He smiles fondly at you. “Very beautiful, myshka.”

“You two are together?” Aiden asks.

“Yup!” You smile brightly –and Aiden snaps another quick picture. “Have been for a while now.”

“We could get some really good pictures of them,” another coworker with bright purple hair –you think her name is Violet, which would make sense—points out. “The contrast of their mutations would make for great thematic storytelling, visually speaking.”

Aiden hums thoughtfully, finger tapping against his camera while he considers the idea. “It really would. Are you two okay with that?”

“I’m down.” You look to Piotr. “Is that okay with you?”

He shrugs and moves to stand next to you. “Konechno.”

You use your mutation to plop yourself down on his shoulders and brace yourself against his head. “How’s this?”

“Not bad,” Aiden says, getting his camera ready once more. “Lean to the side and forward a little more –yeah, keep your hair away from your face, good. Okay, now you put your hands on her legs or something, like you’re helping her balance… perfect. Okay, neither of you move for a minute.” He snaps a few pictures, then chuckles. “Dude, you are too tall for some of this. Is there a stool I can use?”

“I’ll get one,” Ellie says before trotting off to the house.

***

You spend the next hour posing with and without Piotr in various positions, from sitting on his shoulders, to him holding you in his arms, to you flying above him and him smiling up at you.

Aiden jumps on and off the stool Ellie fetched for him, lays down on the ground, and does just about every conceivable thing to get the shots he wants. When the light gets too dim, he and his coworkers break out their lighting rigs and keep going.

“Y’all are seriously dedicated to this,” you comment at one point, genuinely impressed.

“You can’t have a life’s passion without actually being passionate,” Violet says with a smile.

After a while, Aiden breaks out a tripod and a camera specifically designed for slow motion and has Piotr go in and out of defense mode a few times.

“Wow,” you breathe when Aiden shows you a shot where Piotr’s face is slowly morphing into his armor. “That’s amazing.”

“No kidding,” Aiden agrees. “I think this will go on the front of the mutant spread we talked about.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Am I missing something?”

“Back at the vendor booth,” Aiden explains. “We talked about including mutants in our Pride themed collection, but we also discussed releasing a series that focused solely on mutants once Pride month was over.” He gestures to the screen, where Piotr’s face is still visible. “This is a gorgeous shot. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Piotr checks the shot when Aiden holds the camera out for him to see, then shrugs somewhat sheepishly. “If you think it works.”

“I do. Okay, I’ve got one last concept I want to do, if you guys are willing.”

“What’re you thinking?” you ask.

“I was thinking we could have your man get into his armor, and then pick you up and give you a kiss, and then un-armor while he’s kissing you.” He looks between you and Piotr. “Does that sound like something you’d both be comfortable with?”

You nod before looking over at Piotr. “Babe?”

He shrugs again. “I have no problems.”

“Awesome.” Aiden has Piotr armor up and lift you into his arms, then tests a few spots before getting back on the stool. “Alright, kiss her in three, two, one…”

You close your eyes as Piotr’s lips press –gently—against yours and loop your arms around his neck.

It’s a little weird, holding the kiss while he transitions out of defense mode, but he holds you steady, adjusting his grip as he goes so you don’t so much as wobble. Once he’s fully de-armored, he sets you carefully on the ground and moves his hands from your back to your face, cupping your head in his hands.

Aiden snaps a few more pictures, then hops off the stool and claps his hands. “Perfect.”

You grin as he shows you the screen, cycling through the series of pictures. “Damn. We look good.”

Piotr points at the picture where he’s full armored down and cupping your face in his hands. “I like this one best.”

You lean against his side, grinning. “Me too.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #negasonic x yukio #happy pride 🌈 #lgbtqa #sorry for all the author's notes but i wanted to make sure i'd clarified everything #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

[imnotdoneyet-forreal]

Deals with the Devil- 2

Author: Amanda Preston

Summary: A need to fill a void and an encounter to start something new, Elijah and Katya never knew that a simple one night stand would wind up into a love affair filled with family drama and side deals gone wrong.

Deals with the Devil Masterlist

        Katya shot up as the alarm on her phone went off. She quickly scrambles out of the bed and searches for her discarded dress to turn the buzzing sound off. Katya soon finds it somewhere on the hardwood floor and turns her alarm off. She lets out a sigh as she glanced over to the bed to see if she had woken him up only to grow alarmed again when she found that he wasn’t there.

        Panic started to settle wondering if he was waiting for her outside the bedroom or just simply left her to her own devices while he went around his day. Katya knew she shouldn’t feel hurt if it was the latter but he did say he was a gentleman and she had expected some kind of gentle gesture.

        Though none of that mattered now as Katya knew if she didn’t leave now she would be late to her meeting. Katya picked up all of her clothes from the floor and started to dress herself as she made her way out of the apartment. Walking through the hallway, Katya soon heard the sound of the shower turn off and realized that he was still there.

        Having no time to thank him for a lovely night and finding no pen or paper to write him a note, Katya decided it was best to sneak out of the apartment and avoid any other delay. She waited to put her heels on after she left his apartment and managed to get on the elevator seconds after the button was pressed.

        As if everything was aligned for her great escape, Katya managed to get an Uber a minute after she requested it and found herself home 10 minutes later. With no time to waste, Katya did a quicky body shower foregoing washing her hair and settling for dry shampoo. She set upon using most of her time to apply her makeup over getting dressed.

        Katya wiped the fog away from the bathroom mirror only to gasp in horror as she noticed the dark bruise forming at the crook of her neck. Her hand instantly went to touch it wondering how she got it in the first place.

        Her mind went back to last night recalling the way he trailed his lips across her skin. He playfully bit her neck and she remembered giggling at him. The bite wasn’t hard enough to bruise this badly and Katya scowls as she grabbed her concealer and started to apply in hopes of the bruise being hidden.

        The dark purple faded after many layers of concealer and Katya resigned to wearing something a bit more conservative to hide most of it. With only a few minutes to spare, Katya threw her hair into a braided bun and applied a light coat of foundation while she called an Uber to pick her up.

        Katya quickly dressed herself in a skirt and a button-down shirt and grabbed her bag on the way out of her apartment. Her Uber was already waiting for her so Katya ran downstairs with heels in hand planning to use the ride to put on her mascara and lipstick to finish her look off.

        Throwing her heels on, Katya stepped out of the Uber just as it parked in front of the building. She sped walk into the lobby finding Marcel, her trusted lawyer, with a scowl on his face.

        “You’re late,” he states as he forced her to walk with him.

        “I’m not late,” Katya answer as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m right on time.”

        “Which means you’re late,” Marcel tells her as he pressed the button for the elevator. “If you’re early, you’re on time, if you’re on time…”

        “...You’re late,” Katya finishes with a sigh. “Ok, I get it. I’m late, but I have a good excuse?”

        “Why did you say that as if you’re asking me?” Marcel asks her.

        “Because I kind of am,” Katya answers. “I took your advice after our meeting yesterday and went to Rousseau's for a few drinks.”

        “And?”

        “And I got drunk and had a one night stand.”

        Katya couldn’t find it in herself to look over at Marcel not knowing how he would react. It didn’t surprise her to find him sporting a large grin and chuckling.

        “Are you…” he asks as he turned to look at her. “Are you serious?”

        “Yes,” she answers. “And I snuck out this morning to get ready for this meeting so I think my excuse is valid.”

        Marcel’s laughter continued as the elevator stopped on their floor. Katya had to tell him to calm down sensing everyone staring at them as they made their way towards the conference room.

        “And who was the lucky guy?” Marcel asks.

        “I don’t know,” Katya answers. “We never exchanged names.”

        “Oh, mysterious,” Marcel quips. “And are you going to see this mystery man again?”

        “Not if I can help it,” Katya tells him as they made their way inside. “It was just one-night fling. I was in need of a distraction and so was he.”  

        They were the only ones in the conference room at the moment and Katya let out a sigh of relief knowing they weren’t the only ones running late. Katya and Marcel settled down on one side of the table and pulled out their copies of the contract.

        “But tell me more…”

        “Marcel,” Katya calls out in warning.

        “Come on, K,” he sighs out. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not expect me to have a thousand questions.”

        Katya rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head.

        “Let’s focus on my inevitable end,” Katya reminds him as she motioned to the contract in front of them. “Bar stranger told me I should set my own terms before signing this contract. He said I still had time to fight if I haven’t signed yet.”

        “Though he’s right, trying to wrangle some kind of side deal now when we’re supposed to be at the end of negotiation could make them lower the offer or even drop the buy altogether. You can end up losing more than gaining.”

        “So I shouldn’t try then?” Katya asks.

        “I wouldn’t risk it,” Marcel advises her.

        “Ok then,” Katya nods in resignation. “I guess I should have known better than to trust drunk bar stranger on this one. I was just hoping for a hail mary.”

        Marcel offers her a sympathetic smile.

        “Look the contract is more than generous in their offer,” Marcel tells her. “You’ll have enough money to keep you and some of your employees afloat for a couple of months.”

        “Yeah I know,” Katya sighs out. “It just… it doesn’t make any of this better.”

        “Hey, no tears now,” Marcel calls out to her. “I’ve made a few calls here and there and I’m waiting to hear back from a few but there’s a job for you when you leave here. You get to choose what you want to do from here.”

        Katya nods at this and takes a deep breath to calm herself. Even though Marcel had her back, she wished she could keep her job and the people with it. She wouldn’t find something like this somewhere else. Katya let out her last sigh and placed a brave smile on her lips as the doors of the conference room opened once more.

        “Good morning Ms. Fontaine and Mr. Gerard,” a woman greets them as she stood at the doorway. “I’m Gia De Luca, Mr. Mikaelson’s secretary. He just called saying he’ll be running late this morning and he apologizes for the inconvenience. He’ll be in as soon as he can. While you wait, would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”

        “Water is fine,” Marcel answers.

        “Coffee for me please,” Katya answers. “Thank you, Gia.”

        “My pleasure,” she answers with a smile. “I’ll have that up for you soon.”

        Gia leaves the room and Katya turns to Marcel.

        “Mr. Mikaelson is running late,” Katya repeats mockingly. “How unprofessional.”

        “That’s unlike him,” Marcel answers with a pensive look. “From all the years I’ve known him, he’s never late.”

        Katya narrows her eyes at him.

        “From all the years you’ve known him?” she asks. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

        “I was friends with his younger brother, Niklaus, in high school,” Marcel explains to her. “And I kinda dated his younger sister Rebekah.”

        “Doubt he was happy about that,” Katya comments.

        “No, he was… he was much more supportive than Nik,” Marcel tells her. “He kind of went out of his way to mentor me. He helped me out when I was applying for college. I had no idea what I was doing but he did. He’s also kind of the reason I went to law school.”

        “Seems like you two were pretty close,” Katya points out.

        “Not really,” Marcel sighs out. “We lost contact when I was an undergrad. I was working hard to get that degree and his father handed over Viking Co. for him to run.”

        “Is this why he’s buying MoonStone Publishing?” Katya asks him. “Did you tell him to buy it?”

        “I may have mentioned the opportunity to him,” Marcel answers. “He wanted to expand his ventures and I told him that this would be the place to start.”

        Katya didn’t know what to say. The lack of this detail had thrown any balance that she had today off.

        Gia makes her way back inside the conference room with their drinks in hand. Katya places a pause on their conversation as she takes her cup of coffee from her and offers her a smile in gratitude. Once Gia was gone with one last assurance that Mr. Mikaelson would be here soon, Katya turned to Marcel.

        “Marcel, I’m not interested in a convenient buy,” Katya exclaims. “I want someone who cares about MoonStone and wants to keep it running. This was my baby and I can’t just hand it off to someone who’s looking for a quick and easy business venture.”

        “He will keep it running,” Marcel assures her. “He wouldn’t just jump into something because I told him to.”

        Katya knew she was being irrational. She was grasping at anything to make sure this sale wouldn’t go through. With a sigh, she sunk into her chair and forced herself to realize that nothing could be done at this point.

        “I wouldn’t be having these second thoughts if this meeting started on time,” Katya sighs out. “Now where is this Mr. Mikealson?”

        As if on cue, the doors to the conference room open with their prior negotiator, Caroline Forbes, making her way inside. She looked unhappy but managed to conceal it as she offered a smile to the doorway. Immediately, Katya and Marcel rise from their seats to welcome the CEO of Viking Co., Elijah Mikaelson.

        “I apologize for being late,” Elijah states as he made his way inside with his focus primarily on his blackberry. “Something unforeseen happened this morning and I was…”

        Katya stood shell shocked as his eyes settled on hers. The whole room went silent for a second too long and they both turned away from each other hoping their colleagues hadn’t noticed the exchange.

        “...caught off guard.”

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x ofc #elijah mikaelson #mikaelson au #the originals au #the vampire diaries au #modern age #elijah mikaelson fic #fluff #angst #deals with the devil #chapter #deals with the devil masterlist

[madamebaggio]

Chapter 7

“Not you.” She cried. “I knew this seemed too perfect.”

Arthur snorted. “What? Not happy to see me, princess?”

Sansa grabbed the reins. “Please, take me back.” She whispered to the horse.

“Sorry, but he won’t listen to you.” Arthur informed her, his voice pleasant. “He’s my friend’s friend, you see?”

Sansa finally allowed herself to look at the other person there; it was a woman with very pale complexion and long black hair. “Welcome, Sansa Stark.”

Sansa nodded at her, a true lady. “Thank you. And you are?”

“The Mage.” It was the short answer.

“Did you teach the raven how to say my name?” Sansa asked. “It was a bit unsettling to hear it.”

“In a way, yes, I taught it.” The woman said, then became quiet again. Obviously, she didn’t think there was anything else to add.

“Come down, princess.” Arthur waved his hand at her. “We got you another horse so you can finish this trip.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She told him haughtily.

He huffed. “Are we back to this?”

“I can’t remember a moment we left this.” She informed him dryly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “By all means, go back.” He indicated the direction she’d just come from. “Should I send you already tied to a stake, to save the King some time?”

They glared at each other for a full minute, before the Mage got up and started gathering her things. “I need rest.” She declared, completely ignoring the tension.

Arthur sighed. “Come, princess. You look like you’re cold.” He extended his arms again to pick her up.

Sansa bit her lower lip. “Why do I need another horse? What’s wrong with this one?” She wanted to know.

“He carried you a long way without rest or a saddle.” Arthur informed her. “Give him some time.”

“Of course.” Sansa agreed, before finally allowing Arthur to put his hands on her waist.

“What do you have in your hand?” He asked, not moving.

“The mouse that helped me.” She showed the small animal to him.

Arthur stared at the mouse for a second, then let out a breath. “I’m still trying to understand you, princess.” He confessed with a chuckle.

“Finally something we have in common.” She murmured.

He put his hands around her waist and helped her dismount. Sansa’s legs almost gave up once she touched the ground, but Arthur was there to help her.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“I’ll take him.” The Mage said, getting the mouse.

Arthur guided Sansa to another horse. “Here.” He offered her another cloak.

She put it around her shoulders quietly, then let him help her up in another horse. She wasn’t expecting him to mount behind her, but she shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

He put his arms around her and grabbed the reins. “Now, don’t go getting any ideas, sweetheart.” He drawled by her ear.

Sansa gave him her most unimpressed look. “I’ll try my best.”

XxX

Ruth was a concerned about Lady Sansa. The girl was normally quiet and proper, but since she came back from her short trip she’d been even quieter; it was as if she was lost in a world inside her head. She also seemed quiet scared, like she’d been all those years back, when she’d first arrived at Camelot.

Was it because of what had happened in Londinium? For a noble lady like her, seeing something like a riot must have been quite frightening.

Maybe today they could take a turn around the keep and embroider a little. That always seemed to make Lady Sansa happier.

Ruth entered the room in silence, like she did every morning. She’d choose a dress for Lady Sansa to wear today, then she’d wake her up.

However, as soon as she entered the room she noticed something: Lady Sansa wasn’t sleeping in her bed. Ruth had a minute of panic, but everything would be fine. Where could Lady Sansa have gone? Maybe she was just relieving herself.

The room was quiet, and then Ruth noticed something: she couldn’t see Sansa’s cloak or her shoes.

“Lady Sansa?” Ruth called.

No answer.

She put her hand on the bed and the spot was cold, meaning the girl hadn’t been in bed for hours.

Ruth panicked. If something had happened to the lady…

She hurried out of the room to find a guard.

XxX

“Wake up, princess.”

“Not a princess.” She mumbled, her eyes still mostly closed.

She heard a chuckle “Good to know that even in sleep you can disagree with me.”

Sansa opened her eyes. She didn’t know how long they’d been riding, but they’d finally stopped at the entrance of a cave.

Arthur quickly dismounted and helped her to do the same. “We’ll get you inside and get you some food and better clothes.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, exhausted.

Two men came from the cave to greet them, followed by three women.

“Bedivere, Goosefat; let me introduce you to Lady Sansa Stark, from Westeros.” Arthur said with an exaggerated bow.

Bedivere and Goosefat were clearly not amused, but perhaps used to it. Once Sansa turned to them, she was shocked at how much this Goosefat looked like someone she knew.

“My Lady.” They both bowed to her.

“My Lords.” She curtsied back.

“Kay.” Arthur called one of the women. “Can you please take care of our princess? Find her some silky dress or whatever is that she wears?”

Kay huffed at Arthur, like a disapproving older sister. “Honestly, I thought princes were supposed to be charming.” She turned to Sansa and gave the girl a smile. “Come, lass, you probably need a break from him.”

“Yes, please.” Sansa went with the women, and didn’t look back.

She had a feeling she’d see a lot of him now. It was better to save her energy for the next time he annoyed her.

XxX

“We’ve searched the whole keep, but we don’t know how long she’s been gone. They couldn’t have possibly breached our defenses without sounding at least one alarm.”

“Mercia.”

“She doesn’t know the land, she can’t have gone far. We have men with horses and dogs searching for her.”

“Mercia.”

“We will find her, Sire, it’s just a matter of...”

“MERCIA!” Vortigern slammed his hand on the table in front of him. “Find the girl. I need her. And throw her maids into the cells. I have no time for incompetent people.”

Mercia looked alarmed by the outburst, but just nodded, before bowing to his King and leaving.

“Father!” Katya bursted into the room, tears on her eyes. “Is it true that Sansa was taken?”

Vortigern took a deep breath, then hugged his daughter. “The rebels took her somehow.” He told her. “But don’t worry, I’ll get her back.”

“Will they hurt her?” She asked in panic.

“I would like to believe they won’t, but these people are savages. I fear for her.”

XxX

Ada put a shawl on Sansa shoulders as Sigrid passed her a bowl of hot stew. “Thank you.” The girl said politely.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Ada sat beside her. “Are you feeling better now?”

Sansa nodded, since her mouth was full.

“Have they hurt you?” Sigrid asked.

“No. They all treated me as a guest.” She shrugged. “Nothing ever happened at Camelot.”

“Did the King touch you?” Kay pressed.

“No. I don’t think he sees me that way.”

“You’re pretty and men are men.” Ada pointed out.

“The King is focused, obsessed.” Sansa replied. “The fact that I am pretty isn’t relevant to his plans.”

“But do you know what his plans are?” Sarah prodded.

Sansa sighed. “I have no idea.” She looked at the women around her.  “How did you get mixed with his highness?”

Kay chuckled. “Some of us actually raised him. Some of the others came to live in the house in time.”

Sansa remembered someone saying the Born King had been raised in a brothel. “Oh. So you’re all...”

“Whores?” Sarah threw, an arched brow.

Sansa cleared her throat. “I was going to say prostitutes.”

Ada snickered. “You don’t seem all that shocked.”

“My handmaid, Shae, had been one as well. I don’t think I was supposed to know that, but I heard some ladies whispering about it, and how even a whore was more than I deserved.” She looked at Ada and shrugged again. “They said it as if she was less than the rest for it, but Shae was the only kind person to me in King’s Landing. To me, she was far better than most of those nobles.”

Kay, sitting on her other side, put a hand on Sansa’ shoulder. “That’s the place where they hurt you?”

Sansa just nodded.

“Don’t worry, love.” Sigrid gave the younger girl a smaller smile. “You’re safe here. The biggest danger you face now is Arthur’s ego.”

That surprised a chuckle out of Sansa.

As if called by the mere mention of his name, Arthur entered the kitchen, with the two men from before besides a few other people.

“Can we talk now, Princess?”

Sansa glared at him. “Would you stop?”

Bedivere gave Arthur a look, clearly telling him to act in a more befitting manner.

“My Lady.” Bedivere lowered himself on the bench across from Sansa. “We’re honored to have you here.”

“And you also expect me to give you information about the King.” She finished for him.

Bedivere was caught by surprise but merely nodded.

“I don’t know what you expect from me.” She sighed. “I was just a guest under his roof. He wouldn’t talk business in front of me or even Katia. I only know he’s obsessed with his Tower.”

“And you? Was he obsessed with you?”

Sansa couldn’t help but stare at this man, the one Arthur had introduced as Goosefat. “I’m sorry, but you look a lot like someone I know. Do you have family in Westeros?”

The man frowned at the question. “Not that I know.”

Sansa shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She apologized again. “What was the question again?”

“How was your relationship with the King.” Goosefat repeated.

“It’s not as complicated as it seems. He made me a lady in waiting for his daughter, but he liked to remind me that I was living there because of his generosity. He was never cruel to me, but he never paid much attention as well. In the first year, he’d ask me about Westeros, but once he figured I didn’t know much more, he stopped asking.”

“And he never…”

Sansa cut Bedivere with a look. “I don’t know why you’re all so worried about this, but no; he never touched me. He never gave me the slightest indication that he wished to. The guards were supposed to stay away from me as well.”

“So he was saving you for a sacrifice.” Arthur commented.

Sansa sighed. “I can’t say. I did ask him if he could find me a match, after Lady Maggie told me about your suspicions.”

“How did he react?” Bedivere asked, clearly curious.

“He wasn’t happy, at all. Said he didn’t want to part from me so soon, then asked if there was someone I wished to marry.”

“I bet that, if you’d offered a name, there’d be a dead young man now.” Goosefat observed.

“I thought as much.” Sansa nodded. “I don’t know what to think. You’re telling me tales of magic; I’ve never thought that was real.”

“It’s real enough, princess.” Arthur spoke up.

Sansa let out a long-suffering sigh. “Will I really have to put up with you constantly from now on?”

“For your delight… Yes.”

Sansa refused to comment on this.

“I feel like we are connecting here, Princess.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Only in your dreams. I’m only here because you’re -supposedly -the lesser of two evils.”

“Hold the flirting, sweetheart.” He smirked at her. “Or I just might fall in love.”

She gave him a flat look. “I think you’ll manage to avoid that.”

The grin he gave her was pure danger. “Don’t be so sure.”

XxX

Bedivere sat beside Bill and offered the other man a cup. “What are you thinking about?”

“The girl.” Bill admitted, taking the cup.

“How so?”

“Arthur.” It was a simplistic answer, but it was explanation enough.

“Do you think he’s seriously interested on her?”  Bedivere asked.

“He got her out of the castle, and he never told us he planned on doing it.” Bill pointed out.

“Maybe it is just his bleeding heart.” Bedivere shrugged. “Once he heard she’d be sacrificed, he couldn’t help it.”

“I don’t think is this. I believe he’s really interested in this girl, and that concerns me.” Bill explained. “I have nothing against Lady Sansa, and I don’t think she’s on Vortigern’s side, but she is a distraction. One that we can’t afford.”

Bedivere gave Bill a look. “I know the boy comes across as irresponsible, but I don’t see him as that reckless. He’s been fighting on our side this whole time, he’s embraced his legacy. He might not be what we had hoped for at first, but Arthur has come a long way. I know he will fight because it is the right thing to do, and he will be a King that would make his father proud.”

“You understood me wrong, Bedivere. I don’t doubt the boy.” Bill said. “He’s a little shite, but I agree; he’s come a long way. But we’ve been young and foolish, and we know how things feel at the time, like they are meant to last an eternity. This is not the moment for that kind of idea.”

“It’s just flirting, Bill. It means nothing.”

“Either way… I think we should consider helping Lady Sansa to go back to her land.”

Bedivere arched a brow. “You’re suggesting we stuff her in a boat and send her home?”

Bill scoffed. “No. I’m suggesting we send someone over to find anyone that might claim her as family. Who knows? We might be doing the girl a favor.”

Bedivere considered the idea for a moment. “I think you might be right. But, even if we do that, it’d be months before we get any kind of answer.” He pointed out.

“This war isn’t ending anytime soon.” Bill spoke.

“I don’t know about this.” Bedivere sighed.

Bill rolled his eyes. “If we ask the girl, would it be better?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Great. Let us find if Lady Stark wishes to return home.”

Notes: I’m not entirely happy with some aspects of this chapter, but... Well...

I hope you enjoy it, tho.

Let me know your feelings.

#madame baggio #fanfiction #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #game of thrones #king arthur the legend of the sword #king arthur #Sansa Stark #Sansa x Arthur #gifs not mine #i wont believe in songs

[ifindus]

Christmas Dinner

This is a story for @weekofhetalia and their Hetalia Holiday Special 2k18 where I was the Secret Santa of Katya. This is her gift from me, I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 2 339 Characters: APH England, APH France, APH America, APH Canada. Pairing: APH England/APH France. Summary: Arthur tries to be helpful so that his children are ready when Francis' finish the christmas dinner, but it's not easy with defiant kids who'd rather play than listen.

Link to AO3.

“I can help!”

“No, you can’t!”

“At least let me-”

“Not happening! Get out of the kitchen!”

Arthur crossed his arms in defiance, but did as he was told. He went out into the dining room where he had already set the table for four. There were candles placed around the room that cast light on the decorations. Red and green colours covered the room along with some gold. Francis was about halfway done with the evening’s dinner and Arthur felt absolutely useless as he wasn’t even allowed to help his husband prepare. Just because he’d had a few bad experiences before didn’t mean he was inept at cooking. Well, as there was nothing else to do at the moment he might as well go fetch the boys, who were still outside and playing in the snow. About time they got ready for the evening after all.

Arthur entered the hallway and went over to the front door. Before he opened it, he paused to take a glimpse out the window beside it. The darkness had wrapped around the white garden and it was only due of the lamp posts in the street he could spot the kids playing in the snow. It looked like they were having fun, but now it was almost time for dinner, so they’d better get dressed soon. Arthur waited only a few seconds more, just so he could enjoy watching the two of them struggling to put a head on top of their newest snowman, which was considerably taller than them both. Then, as they stood back admiring their creation, Arthur decided it was the right time to interrupt them.

“Come on, boys! Time’s up!” Sad faces look back up at him as the boys turned towards him and Alfred stomped a foot into the ground as he protested.

“But daaaaaad!” Alfred crossed his arms and put up a pout. “We’re not done yet! We have like three more snowmen to make – we have to stay out a bit longer!”

“Pleeease, dad? Just a few more minutes? We won’t take long, promise.” Matthew folded his hands in front of him as he begged Arthur.

Arthur just shook his head. He knew where this was going. A few more minutes quickly became hours and three more snowmen suddenly meant six. Dinner was almost ready anyway, so they really should be showering and changing clothes.

“Sorry, boys. There’s no more time today. You have to get changed now.” Both of the boys groaned and Alfred kicked away a piece of snow. “You’ll have all the time you want tomorrow, but right now you have to shower and get ready.”

“But we don’t wanna get ready! We wanna build more snowmen now!”

“Alfred, don’t be difficult. Stop this nonsense and come inside.” Arthur crossed his arms and looked sternly at them. When neither of them moved, he sighed. “Don’t make me put on some shoes and come get you myself. Dinner’s almost ready, and we don’t want to disappoint your father by not being at the table on time, now would we?”

At this, the boys mumbled a bit before they slowly – and a little reluctant – made their way towards the door. Arthur held it open and closed it when both of them had stepped inside. Their cheeks and noses were tinged red from the cold and the few strands of hair that poked out from their hats were wet. Arthur smiled to himself as the kids struggled out of their thick jackets and heavy shoes. They had both grown so much these last years, he almost couldn’t believe they’d be eleven years old next summer.

“Dad! Do I have to wear that stiff shirt?” Alfred stared up him with a disgruntled look on his face.

“Yes, you do. It Christmas. You have to look proper and nice today for a change.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “But first you both need a shower.”

“But daaaaad!”

“Alfred, why don’t you calm down and behave more like Matthew here. You don’t see him complaining.”

“That’s just because he doesn’t want to make you mad.”

“Then you both better go shower right now, or I may get mad.” Arthur crossed his arms and looked sternly at them again. Matthew was standing behind his brother, obviously uncomfortable at being dragged into this. “Go on now, and I’ll put away your clothes.”

“Urgh! Fine.” Alfred made a point to roll his eyes, but he dragged Matthew with him up the stairs in the hallway and towards the bathroom. Arthur just shook his head at the boys. They – especially Alfred – were really doing a lot to make his life more difficult lately. But, today was Christmas Eve so he was trying to be a bit more patient with them – as much as he could anyway.

The clothes that the boys had discarded on the floor he picked up and hung them in their place on the hangers by the door. The jackets were still a bit wet and the shoes had rims of snow along their edges. Also, there was now a huge puddle in the middle of the hallway from the melted snow they’d dragged in. Arthur sighed heavily and dragged a hand trough his hair before he realized he kind of ruined the hairstyle he’d worked on so long earlier and tried to smooth it back out. He could hear Francis out in the kitchen, humming to himself over the sounds of cutlery and pans, and he noticed the amazing smell making its way down the hallway. Soon. Arthur pulled himself back up and went to the closet where they kept their brooms and mops and fetched out an old rag, which he then used to clean the mess after the boys.

When he was done cleaning, Arthur figured he should probably go fetch clothes for the boys so that they wouldn’t use forever to dress up only for him to make them go change again. He took steps up the stairs and he could hear the sound of the shower running, so at least they had started. A quick stop by the boys’ shared room, he found some nice shirts and trousers he brought with him over to the bathroom. The shower had stopped running and Arthur knocked on the door so they’d let him in. The door was opened and Matthew was standing on the other side of it with a towel draped over his shoulders and water dripping from his hair. Alfred was over by the large mirror above the sink, busy drying himself.

“Hello boys, I have your clothes with me here. Dry up and I’ll help you get dressed.”

“Dad. I don’t need help.” Alfred turned around to look at him. “I’m ten; I can dress myself.”

“If you say so.” Arthur raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit as he remembered only last week when Alfred had needed his help with a pair of pants. He leant back against the closed door and watched as his boys dried themselves off and got into their clothes. Matthew came over to him for help with the buttons on the cuffs of his purple shirt, and he happily bent down to assist. Alfred on the other hand insisted on doing everything by himself, so Arthur had to actually hold him still so he could tuck the shirt down into the trousers when Alfred failed to do so. Both of the boys were almost out the door before he could grab them again and place them in front of the mirror. Their hair looked like a mess he reminded them. Arthur grabbed Francis’ hairdryer and carefully dried their blonde locks before he fetched a comb and fixed their hairstyles. Matthew’s long locks were so similar to those of Francis’. Eventually, the boys grew impatient, and while Arthur was still struggling with that one piece of hair that refused to lay down on Alfred, they tore away from him and ran down the stairs. Well, that was probably as good as it was going to get anyway.

Arthur walked down the stairs and could hear the boys getting shooed out of the kitchen by Francis as he stepped into the hallway. Matthew and Alfred scurried over to the living room instead and Arthur vaguely saw them turning on the television and their Nintendo Switch as he stopped in the door opening to the kitchen. It was almost impossible to control those two. He leaned back out to shout at them.

“Leave that be until after dinner please!” He knew they would barely be able to start a game before the meal was ready and then they would be in the same situation as before all over again. Dissatisfied groans sounded loudly from the other room, but Arthur’s attention was grabbed by the laughing man in front of him.

“Don’t worry, I’m just about done now. Help me set the table?” Francis walked by him into the dining room with plates in both his hands. Arthur hummed as an agreement and followed the other’s example. He grabbed the plate with the main course, a turkey stuffed with chestnuts, and brought it in to the table. Working together, Francis and he was able to get all the dishes out quite quickly and the boys filed in to take their seats. As it was Francis that usually cooked dinner it resulted mostly in the French dishes he was brought up with, such as foie gras, escargots, and oysters. Of course, the kids normally wouldn’t eat all that and instead stuck to the turkey, although they might try out some of the other things occasionally. Arthur preferred the turkey as well, but as not to let Francis eat all of his work alone, he’d go for some oysters as well, but after all these years he was still a bit too sceptical for the snails.

Arthur smiled to himself as Francis engaged the boys in a conversation and he asked them what they’d been building out in the snow. He listened intently as the kids eagerly told them how they would continue tomorrow and of all their plans for the rest of the holiday. If it came more snow, they’d build a snow cave and maybe even a whole white snow bear. Arthur almost felt bad for them as he knew that the weather forecast for the next few days had been only rain and mild temperatures.

When the meal was consumed, the boys were impatient to start up their game again as Arthur and Francis cleared the table together. After they finished putting everything in the dishwasher and on the counter, they joined their children in the living room. The Switch Game Console they had gotten them as a present last Christmas had been diligently used the past year, and fortunately for their parents, they hadn’t tired of it yet. Arthur had always believed there was no reason to buy the newest gadget every year when the old one worked just as well. Unfortunately, the boys were of a different opinion. And as Francis was terrible at electronics, it usually came down to him to figure out what was currently “in” with the kids. One moment it was fidget spinners and the next it was slime. What even was going on these days? He wasn’t absolutely sure, but what he was fairly certain of was that they’d both enjoy the Pokémon: Let’s Go: Pikachu! Francis and he had gotten them this year. At the moment Matthew and Alfred were playing something with the Mario-characters on their television.

Francis went over to the cabinet in the corner and fetched a bottle of wine and two glasses while the sounds from the game filled the room. Arthur happily accepted the glasses and held them as Francis poured the red liquid. They each took their own and sat down together on the couch. The whole rom was had a cosy atmosphere and was dimly lit by candles and lamps, the fireplace burning and spreading warmth. The sounds from the engaged boys and their game captured their attention.

“Arthur.”

“Hmm?” Arthur ripped his attention away from the kids and turned to Francis. He was sipping the wine and still watching the game.

“Do you think our boys would perhaps want to open one gift tonight?”

Arthur chuckled and decided played along with what he figured was the other’s scheme.

“Well, I don’t know. They seem extremely busy at the moment, so I think it would maybe be best to wait until tomorrow. They might not be that curious either; you know they already celebrated ten Christmases from before. It probably just isn’t too exciting anymore.”

“Ah, you are right. They are too old for this now.”

The boys, who had just moments earlier been preoccupied by the game, flung their consoles down on the floor and jumped up towards their parents. Their eyes wide and frantic. Arthur and Francis shared a smile as they were overtaken.

“No! We’re not too old!” Alfred waved his hands up and down. “We’re just the right age!”

“Yes! Please, papa! Can’t we open just one gift?”

“Yeah, we won’t even shake the other gifts before we open them tomorrow!”

Francis rubbed his chin and glanced over at Arthur with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Hmm… I don’t know…. what do you think, cher?”

“Well,” Arthur huffed. “If they say they are still young at heart, I guess we can allow one present.”

The boys cheered and looked at each other in joy before they flung themselves towards the tree in a hunt for the most exiting gift. They’d never be too old for this. Arthur just shook his head and looked over at Francis with a smile. He was met with a sly grin as the latter pulled out something from his pocket and held up between them. Arthur had to role his eyes over how cheesy his husband was, but still gave him a kiss over the mistletoe.  

#hetaliaholidayspecial2k18 #APH England #APH France #APH America #APH Canada #fruk #aph fruk #secret santa #face family #aph face family #not my best work #not even proud of it #but it is what it is

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 254 (Final part)

A/N: Welcome to what is, for now, the final chapter of “main” Galactica - as everyone continues to celebrate Raja and Raven, ringing in 2016 in style. But don’t worry, we’ve got some Nebula ideas in the works, and we hope you’ll enjoy them! Thank you to everyone who is still reading along. We love you all every much!<3 Kisses from @veronicasanders and I!

Note: The song Courtney sings is Cree Summer’s “Revelation Sunshine” from the album ‘Street Faërie.’ Listen to it, it’s super cute.

Sutan released Karl’s face, his shorter friend staring up at him with wide eyes. “Happy New Year!” Sutan laughed. “God, I don’t understand how you can stand those fruity drinks. I know you’re gay, but your mouth tastes like a teenage girl.”

“... You kissed me?”

“It’s New Years.” Sutan took his beer, the two of them slightly away from the party. “At New Years, you kiss the people you care about, and you’re my best friend. Just don’t expect a repeat performance.” The two had been at the bar for most of the night, both easily and happily agreeing that they’re too old to ‘throw it down’ on the dance floor. “It’ll be over my dead body that I’ll ever be drunk enough for a repeat of 2003. Literally my dead body, I don’t think I could handle that much alcohol anymore. I’m a fragile old man.” Sutan laughed, and Karl wanted to join, but he couldn’t think straight. He and Sutan always slotted back together, like pieces of a puzzle, even when an ocean kept them apart, an ocean Karl had put between them on purpose.

Karl touched his lips, still looking at his friend.

“I-”

“There you are!”

Both looked up, the outburst a surprise, Karl’s eyes falling on Sutan’s girlfriend, Violet, wearing a stunning dress, and even if Karl felt his stomach twist, he couldn’t help but admit that she looked good.

“Violet!” Sutan smiled brightly. “Hello lovely eyes.”

“I-” Violet took a step forward. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry I was mad. I’m sorry I- I know you’re probably disappointed, but Raven asked, and I didn’t want to, I couldn’t, and then, then yesterday happened and Courtney, and I, I- I didn’t know what to do or how you felt and-”

Sutan looked at her, and Karl felt like he watching a trainwreck happen in slow motion. Sutan was terrible with emotions, and from what he knew of the girl who somehow miraculously stayed by his best friend’s side, it wasn’t her strong suit either, the words falling from her lips like waterfall, rushing out, stumbling on top of each other.

“Let’s go.”

Violet shut up, her lips slamming shut, a whisper barely leaving her.

“Go?”

“To the balcony.” Sutan tipped his head slightly, pointing to the half open door, no one outside since everyone was getting ready for Courtney’s performance. “It seems like we need to talk.”

***

“I can’t feel my toes.”

“Awh, poor baby are you tired?” Katya smiled, dumping down next to her husband, his lips smeared with her lipstick from their midnight kiss, and Katya felt a thrill in her lower belly. Trixie was just about to talk, but Katya had already grabbed his face, gently running a thumb over his lower lip, Trixie freezing in place, his eyes wide as he looked at her. “God you’re gorgeous.” Katya gently pressed her finger into his mouth, Trixies plush lips giving way, his face held in his wife’s iron tight grip.

Trixie flushed, his cheeks going a delightful shade of bright pink, the man staring at his wife as if she had put him under a spell.

“Should we go upstairs?”

Trixie nodded, the moment broken as they both rushed towards the elevator.

***

Courtney took the microphone from the band who’d played the set after Adore and then turned to the crowd with a smile.

“Hey everyone. I promise, today I’m at the mic for an authorized reason. You don’t need to worry,” she said, earning a few chuckles. “So, Raven wanted to dedicate a song to Raja before the night was over, and while she’s still conscious enough to remember it. I /think/ we may have caught her, right?”

Raja giggled, nodding, and Raven called up to Courtney from their table.

“Just barely! Hurry up!”

“Okay well, with that said, on with it!”

As the music began, Courtney noticed Bianca gazing up at her. She tossed her a kiss, and Courtney smiled happily.

“Did you see, was I obvious? Could you tell? I did try to hide it…

“When I look I see you in me I don't want to fight it Shelter us from the storm It's so warm I get lost inside it...”

“Hey Bianca. She looks great up there,” said a breathy voice, clearly trying to sound more adult than she was.

Bianca turned, groaning inwardly when she saw Farrah standing next to her seat.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to talk to someone who could destroy you?” Farrah asked, fluttering her lashes.

“What do you want, Farrah?” Bianca sighed.

“Well, my mother is a bit confused, because it’s been a few months and she hasn’t gotten any calls from Courtney’s manager. What’s going on?”

“I’m working on it,” Bianca replied through gritted teeth, then added, “cunt,” under her breath.

“What was that?” Farrah asked sweetly, leaning closer, hair brushing against Bianca’s cheek.

“Out of my mind, into yours Out of my mind, into yours…”

Courtney’s stomach lurched, seeing the pretty young blonde touching her girlfriend. Shit, “young” was an understatement. She wasn’t sure how old the girl was, but she knew that she played a high school student on television, so how old could she possibly be? To be honest, if Courtney really thought about, she was more disturbed than jealous.

“Bianca, it’s taking too long!” Farrah whined. “I need you to do better…” She flashed a mischievous grin, perching herself on Bianca’s lap. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise…”

“Please stop,” Bianca said, trying to push her off gently without making a scene.

“Love Love is Love is all Love is all around...us...”

“You don’t like me anymore?” Farrah simpered.

“You really need to knock it the fuck off. You have no idea how bad this would be, if-” Bianca gulped, teeth gritted. She could feel Courtney’s eyes on her and she didn’t know, at the moment, what made her more afraid. Farrah making good on her threats, or the wrath Courtney was sure to direct at her after she finished singing. “Just let me fucking handle it!”

“Love is all around us look Love is all around us look around...”

“Farrah, get off!” Bianca hissed, looking helplessly up at the stage.

“Love Love is Love is all Love is all around...us...”

***

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up.”

“You are, my emotional little wife!” Raven smiled brightly, wrapping her arms around Raja, swaying back and forth as Courtney finished her number, Raja crying almost silently, the emotions of the day finally overwhelming her. Raven could count the times she had seen Raja cry on two hands, her wife so stoic many would believe she was made of stone, but Raven knew better.

***

“Oh my GOD! Laila, you have to check out all this shrimp!”

“Pearl? Pearl, what are you doi- PEARL!” ***

“Love Love is Love is all Love is all around us look around...”

As the song ended, Courtney smiled tensely through the applause, raising a glass to congratulate the happy couple. She then climbed down from the stage, giving Bianca a venomous glare as she marched past their table and out of the ballroom.

“Ooh, she looks mad,” Farrah commented.

“Yeah, you really overplayed your hand, cupcake,” Bianca said, finally shoving the blonde off her lap and standing quickly to follow Courtney out of the room. “Courtney! Wait!”

She picked up the pace through the lobby, missing the elevator by seconds and then hitting the button repeatedly. When she finally caught up, Courtney was in their room, angrily shoving her things into her suitcase.

“Okay, I don’t know what you think you saw, but-”

“What I /think/ I saw?!”

“It wasn’t how it looked, I swear-”

“Oh really?!” Courtney asked. “Because it /looked/ like you had a teenager in your lap.” She brushed past Bianca and walked into the bathroom to gather up the rest of her belongings.

“Okay. Yes, technically that’s true, but I didn’t like it.”

Courtney scoffed, eyes rolling to the ceiling before sweeping the contents of the counter into her bag.

“And may I remind you that this is the same person who you’ve been talking up to me for weeks. So...what the actual fuck?!”

Bianca sighed as Courtney shoved past her again, now violently yanking clothes off the hangers.

“Okay, just, please listen for a second, because I need to-Courtney?”

Courtney stopped moving, looking at Bianca with watery eyes that made guilt swirl in her chest.

“Fine. Thirty seconds. Go ahead.”

“She’s blackmailing me.”

Courtney blinked a few times.

“I’m sorry...what?”

“She and her cunt mother, they want me to help her jump-start a pop career and...look, it’s so stupid, to be honest. But she’s gonna claim that I...took advantage of her. When she was 16. After this party in LA. So...so I got scared. Okay?”

Courtney paused for a moment before speaking, then said, as slowly and calmly as she possibly could, “I can’t believe I have to ask this, but-”

“Of course not!”

“Then, I don’t get it. Let her talk, slap her with a slander case.”

“Come on, Court, you and I both know that at that point the damage is already done. And besides, she’s an actress. She gives a very convincing performance.”

“Your reputation doesn’t help, either.” Courtney shook her head.

“Exactly. And...I mean, there may be some kind of...circumstantial evidence.”

“What kind of evidence?” Courtney’s eyes narrowed.

“Pictures of-well, I didn’t sleep with her. But we did kind of...kiss.”

“For fuck’s sake, Bianca!”

“I was drunk!”

“A 16 year old?!” Courtney exclaimed.

“In my defense-”

“Stop talking. You’re /gross./ I hope she does go public. You’ll deserve whatever you fucking get.”

Bianca sunk down onto the bed, shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

Courtney began to pace around the room, growing even more agitated.

“So...let me get this straight. You actually wanted me to work with this psychotic child?!”

“Well. I hadn’t totally thought that part through,” Bianca admitted.

“Obviously.”

“Baby-” Bianca rose from the bed, moving toward her slowly.

“I just wanted /one/ night without all the bullshit, B! You know I have to fly to Miami tomorrow for that Housewives thing, and I’m performing the new set, and this is just too much!”

Bianca caught her by the wrists, eyes pleading.

“Please, angel, don’t go.”

Courtney closed her eyes briefly, swallowing.

“I have to get some sleep, away from you. I have to think-”

“Sleep here, baby. I promise I’ll show you how sorry I am.” Bianca pressed her lips to the inside of Courtney’s wrists.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, B,” Courtney said softly, pulling her hands away. “Not this time. Listen, I’m not...I just need to clear my head, okay? It’s actually good that I’ll be out of town for a few days. We can have some space, and I think...I think I really need that right now.”

Bianca nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“We’ll talk when I get back. Okay?” Courtney said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

“Okay.”

Bianca couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach as she watched Courtney exit. Like she’d somehow fucked up beyond her usual bullshit, and this time everything was riding on what she did next. She collapsed into an armchair, mind racing with thoughts of what exactly that should be.

***

“Come here.” Katya crooked her finger, Trixie eagerly obeying as he fell to all fours, her sweet boy naked, his cock red and hard. Trixie had been touching himself, Katya watching him as he whimpered and whined, her voice commanding him to speed up or slow down, the man completely under her control.

Katya spread her legs, Trixie crawling in between them, her hand grabbing his hair.

“Good boy.” Trixie shuddered, and Katya smiled as she pushed his head in between her legs, Trixie obeying her every tug. “That’s my good boy.”

***

“And that’s, that’s... It... I guess…” Violet felt burning hot, even though the January air was freezing cold, Sutan’s jacket around her shoulders, the man putting it on her the moment they had stepped outside, his crisp white shirt around his elbows. They were standing side by side as they looked out at the city, cars honking below, the only light coming from behind and from the cigarette in Sutan’s hand.

She couldn’t believe she had told him everything, couldn’t believe that she had opened up, that she had poured her childhood all over Sutan, telling him about her mother, about her school, about how she was bullied for never talking and the children's psychologists she had seen, her body almost throwing up as she had whispered the words selective mutism, her world almost fading as she was close to fainting, but Sutan had just stayed, had listened, his heat next to her.

She had told him how her mother had taken her to the doctor and tried to get benefits from having her stamped as mentally retarded, about her stepdad and how unsafe she had felt at home, how she ended up with her voice not only disappearing in school, but everywhere, her words and her self shrinking and shrinking and shrinking until there was close to nothing left.

She had talked about how she had started dancing, her body’s movement the only way she could express everything that she had inside, her pain, her anger, how scared she always was, and how she had whispered her fears into the soft fur of her ballet instructors pug, how it was the only place she had felt safe.

“I’m... I’m really sorry I didn’t do the spee-”

Violet felt a hand on her cheek, Sutan pulling her forward, his breath smelling of cigarettes, but then, then he kissed her, his lips soft against hers, her entire body melting.

“Never apologize.”

Violet looked at her boyfriend, afraid what she would find in his face, his brown eyes meeting hers.

“Never apologize for surviving, Violet.” Sutan leaned against Violet, their foreheads touching, Violet’s hand finding Sutan’s on top of hers, the two of them standing closely together

“I’m just happy you’re here.”

***

Fame turned away from Blue Dress Woman, whose name she still didn’t know, and took Patrick’s hand, leading him away, her cheeks burning red. She glanced up at him and saw him lightly chuckling.

“What are you laughing at?” Fame’s tone was pointed, but only because she was embarrassed. Seducing someone with her husband had seemed like so much fun and such a great idea, until she had struck out completely. God, she had totally forgotten how awful the meat market was, and she almost missed Pearl, the woman following her lead right from the first time they had met each other.

“I’m just...not used to seeing you strike out,” Patrick admitted with a twinkle in his eye. “Usually that’s more of my forte.”

“It wasn’t my fault! She clearly didn’t speak much English. And my Russian is...nonexistent.”

“It was cute when you tried French. Your persistence is admirable.”

“Shut up,” Fame retorted, laying a head on his shoulder and relaxing against his body.

“So...are you sad that it didn’t work out?”

“Hmmm?” Fame asked sleepily. “Nah...are you?”

Patrick kissed her temple.

“When I have you? Never.”

***

“You have the key!”

“Oh, shit, right, right.” Raven giggled, her and Raja both thumbling with their room key both they finally got the door open, Raven just about to take a step, when she felt a strong grip on her body.

“Raja-!”

Raja swept Raven up, a hand underneath her legs, another around her waist.

“What are you doing?!”

“Carrying my bride inside.” Raja smiled brightly, “God you’re heavy.”

“... Are you calling me fat?”

“I’m calling you perfect.”

***

Karl strolled into the restaurant for the wedding brunch, dark glasses covering his eyes, and winced at the noise. He was beyond hungover, but judging everyone else, he wasn’t anywhere near the only one.

“Ugh...fuck...children…”

Detox, who had just walked in as well, laughed. “Hey man, watch it.”

“No offense,” Karl added. “Yours are... Interesting.”

“None taken!” Juju chirped, showing up at her husband's side. “There’s a reason we left ours with a sitter. Hangovers plus toddlers are a bad combo.”

“Tell me about it,” Karl moaned, hating the noise from Raja and Raven’s loud, boisterous families.

“Don’t worry, buddy, we’re in the VIP section. I think it’ll be much more chill in there.” Detox steered him over to a private room to the left.

“Aren’t we a little old for a VIP section?” Karl asked. He quickly searched the area, his heart feeling heavy when he couldn’t spot his best friend. Sutan had just left yesterday, the man never coming back from the balcony after he went to talk with his girlfriend, so Karl had hooked up with a stranger, barely even remembering what room number they had been in when he slipped out that morning.

“If I ever get too old for the VIP section, I want to be taken out back and shot,” Detox answered.

“Bold of you to assume any bullets exists that can penetrate your silicone head,” Karl retorted, earning a snort from Juju, who quickly ditched them to head for the enormous buffet.

“Bar?” Detox asked.

“Duh,” answered Karl.

***

Adore skipped up to Bianca, twirling her mimosa.

“Morning B!” she sang, hugging her sister. “Where’s Courtney?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Bianca growled.

Adore let go, raising her eyebrows and backing away slowly, suppressing a laugh. She backed right into Jinkx, nearly knocking over her plate of pastries. Jinkx laughed as Adore snuggled against her shoulder.

“Hey li’l bear, what’s wrong?” Alaska drawled, the blonde’s face practically flawless even though Adore knew for a fact that she hadn’t gone to bed until long after four.

“Hold me,” Adore said, and Jinkx and Alaska both hugged her, peppering her cheeks with kisses.

***

Violet stood at the buffet, her and Sutan slipping in as one of the last, though Raja and Raven had thankfully been even further delayed. Her head was heavy, both from the alcohol of the day before and all the dancing she had done, everything that had happened, but also because of how Sutan had taken her back to their room, the man pulling her in and holding her, his hands between her legs and her mouth on him keeping them awake as they found each other again, Violet’s secret no longer taking up space in their relationship. They had woken up way too late, Sutan quickly slipping into jeans and a shirt, somehow looking amazing while Violet had rushed to get done, and still hated how she looked, her hair collected in a high ponytail, her makeup minimal, but thankfully even Fame looked relaxed.

Violet sighed, the breakfast table clearly ordered by Raven’s sweet tooth, the entire thing covered in rich, carb-fat-and-sugar-loaded options. The only thing she could imagine stomaching were the vegan options that were clearly for Courtney, even though the plates were suspiciously untouched when Violet was sure she had seen Bianca just moments before.

“Hey gorgeous.” Sutan asked, sliding an arm around her waist, the man smelling faintly of cigarettes and cold air, him and Karl disappearing outside the moment they made it down. “Anything good?”

“Not really...” Violet bit her lip, knowing that she came off beyond picky, but she couldn’t imagine anything less appealing than a chocolate croissant or a blueberry pancake right now.

“I’m sure you could ask the kitchen for a bowl of oatmeal.”

“You think?”

“No.” Sutan laughed, his own plate already piled high with the options.

“You’re terrible.”

“I love you too.”

Violet rolled her eyes, turning slightly to fall into Sutan’s side, the man twisting his head to kiss her. It felt strange to bitch about breakfast options when she had been crying her eyes out the night before, sharing things she had never told another human being, not even Milk, but yet, here they were, and somehow, it was the best thing she could imagine.

***

Hand in hand, Raja and Raven entered the room, greeting the cheering by bowing their heads and smiling.

“You’re late!” Sutan exclaimed, slapping Raja on the shoulder.

“Raven likes making an entrance,” Raja said, “Don’t you, princess?”

“Mhmm,” Raven agreed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Juju came up to kiss them both, looking her best friend up and down skeptically.

“God, Raven, you look like a fucking mess.”

“What?” Raven asked. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“... Did you just say ‘sorry’?”

“Yes, why?”

“Okay, who are you, and where the fuck is my best friend?” Juju laughed.

Raja took a sip of her coffee and with a smug expression, said, “She died right around the 3rd orgasm.”

Juju nodded. “Good to know marriage has already changed you. For the better, if this quiet docile thing sticks.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Eat a bag of dicks, Juju.”

“Awww, she’s back!” Juju said. “Good morning Raven Petruschin-Amrull, and welcome to the rest of your life.”

***

“Where’s Courtney?” Fame dumped down next to Bianca, her brunch plate in hand, more than ready to bitch to her best friend about the woman who got away the night before, sure that Bianca was more than interested in hearing about her terrible luck in the world of polyamorous hookups.

Bianca glared at her and downed her Bloody Mary in a single gulp.

Fame raised her eyebrows. “Alright then.”

“I see you judging me and I do not appreciate it, blondie,” Bianca said.

“Okay, so... Do you want to talk about this or?” Fame asked, tilting her head sympathetically.

“No.”

Fame turned to Patrick, smiling and raising her champagne glass to tell her husband she wanted a refill, and to keep him away from their table for a bit. Patrick took the hint with a barely detectable eye roll and headed for the bar.

“B...she loves you. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because...” Fame inched closer to her. “I mean, look at me and Patrick. We’re the happiest we’ve ever been.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bianca scoffed, clearly seeing right through Fame and her half full glass.

Fame smiled, not taking the bait. “Don’t worry, B. Things just...work out.”

“Sometimes they don’t, Fame. Sometimes you fuck up and lose people.”

“Well, then...you’ll still be okay.” Fame wrapped her arms around Bianca’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Bianca looked over at her, suppressing a smile.

“You’re dumb,” she said, leaning her head against Fame’s.

Fame giggled and snuggled closer. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Hey guys,” Raven said, back to her bright and bubbly self, sliding in beside Bianca. “Where’s Courtney?”

Fame held her breath at Bianca’s shoulder’s tensed up, hoping that she wouldn’t bite the bride’s head off.

“She, uh, had Bravo commitments. Told me to give everyone hugs and kisses. Although I think she knows that I’m not gonna do that,” Bianca said, flashing a forced smile.

“Thank god. I would probably pass out from shock,” Raven replied, giggling.

***

Raja dinged her glass with a spoon, standing up and clearing her throat.

“Hi everyone! I just wanted to say a little something because I’m so grateful that you’re here,” Raja began.

“Ugh,” Bianca grumbled, earning a cuff on the ear from Fame.

“Shh!”

Raja grinned and shot Fame a grateful wink, sticking her tongue out at Bianca for good measure.

“As I was saying. My extended family might be out there, people I am related to by blood, but in here, in here I have my real family. The family I choose, and I love all of you.”

“We love you too, Rajie!” Sutan called, arm slung over Violet’s shoulder as the brunette cuddled close to him.

“And having you in my life has been the greatest gift anyone could ask for-”

“Though we do also want actual presents,” Raven interjected.

“The greatest gift /either/ of us could ask for,” Raja repeated, putting a hand on Raven’s shoulder. “Your love, your support, your humor...has been the best part of my life.”

“Raja, Fame is fucking weeping,” Bianca said. “Can you wrap it up?”

“I just /love/ you so much,” Fame sobbed, burying her face in Bianca’s shoulder.

“Christ.”

“It’s mutual,” Raja said, and lifted her glass high in the air. “To the best fucking friends anyone could ask for!”

Everyone raised their glasses along with her, toasting and cheering. Raja sank back down in her seat, a smile wide across her face as she linked her fingers with Raven’s, leaning over to kiss bride’s cheek.

Raven turned to her with a mischievous grin, kissing her back.

“Look how happy they are,” Fame sighed, her own fingers laced with Patrick’s on one side and Bianca’s on the other.

“Yeah. It’s gross,” Bianca said.

Fame laughed, shaking her head, heart as full as it had ever been as she looked around the room at her dearest friends.

#galactica #au aag verse #rpdr fanfiction #my fics

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 58 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Katya found out she might be pregnant, the assistant network caught on to BDR’s latest paramour, and Violet was ordered to go home and rest.

This Chapter: Gigi’s new look gets the reaction she’d hoped for, the twins enjoy some one on one time with their respective partners, Courtney has a rain-soaked nightmare, Pearl looks (but doesn’t touch) and Katya stresses.

***

Courtney knocked softly on Ivy’s door, a smile on her face that had been there almost all day. Fame had thankfully left early, she and Patrick spending the evening at some fancy opera event at the Met, leaving Courtney to get ready for her date in peace.

Her first official date with Bianca. It was almost too exciting for her to comprehend.

“Hey Courtney, what’s up?” Ivy asked, looking up from her computer, beckoning Courtney inside.

“Well, I have a date tonight...and it’s really important and I need to look hot and...I thought maybe I could borrow something from the closet again?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. Um...let me just finish this email and then I’ll help you. Feel free to go have a look around, though.”

“Thanks.” Courtney bit her lip, sensing that Ivy was decidedly less enthusiastic about this than the last time she’d helped. She was probably in the middle of something important, maybe anxious about her own Friday night plans. Courtney felt bad, and would have told her to forget it if she had literally any other options. “I promise to be quick!”

“Yeah, no worries.”

Courtney kept her promise, pulling a short, royal blue dress with a high slit and a pair of strappy aqua shoes.

“Are you sure you wanna wear those shoes, Court? It’s kind of horrendous outside,” Ivy said, but Courtney shook her head.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna be going into a cab and then inside. Thank you so much for your help!”

“No problem,” Ivy said, always gracious even when Courtney was obviously annoying her. “I hope you have a good time.”

“I’m sure I will!” Courtney exclaimed, taking the dress and shoes back to her own office to change, already feeling giddy with excitement, wondering what Bianca’s idea of ‘wining and dining’ would be like.

She took her time getting ready, freshening her hair with a curling iron she’d stashed in her desk and giving herself what she hoped was a sexy smoky eye. She kept an eye on the clock, knowing that Fame expected her to be in the office until 7:30. She chose a berry-colored lip gloss from the samples that Alaska had given her, and then stepped into the bathroom to get dressed, thrilled that the dress fit perfectly. She checked her phone and computer one more time before signing out, making sure that there were no last-minute requests from Miss Fame, and then made her way downstairs to grab a taxi.

She’s just settled into the backseat when a message came through that made her heart sink.

FAME: Dogwalker sick. Need you to walk Charles ASAP.

Courtney groaned, tapping on the glass partition to redirect the cab driver, and then texting Bianca.

COURTNEY: Still dealing with a work thing. I’m so so sorry, I might be a little late.

BIANCA: No rush. We can always push the reservation.

COURTNEY: I’ll tell you the second I’m on the way.

BIANCA: XX

Courtney knew that dog walking was an occasional part of her job, although it hadn’t come up yet before. However, she’d carefully read the 7 pages of instructions Violet left about him, knowing that Charles was Fame’s treasured companion and she would be toast if anything ever happened to him, and prepared for the time when she’d have to step up. She wasn’t terribly worried--after all, she loved dogs, and her own family had German Shepherds, so a big dog shouldn’t be any trouble.

But Charles wasn’t just big. He was massive, outweighing her by a hefty amount, first fighting her as she tried to put on the raincoat that he apparently hated, and then dragging her down the street so fast that she slipped on some ice, falling to her knees on the corner, immediately cursing herself for not listening to Ivy about those stupid shoes.

“Charles, sit!” Courtney was terrified that he would run into the street without her and get hurt, rain and sleet pummeling her face as she sacrificed her umbrella to grip the leash with both hands. As she tried to stand, a bus drove by, sloshing icy gutter water all over her. “Fucking shit!”

Charles, of course, paid no attention to her predicament, still single-mindedly bound for the edge of the park where he was trained to do his business. Courtney got up, shivering, and took him across the street, finding herself soon faced with picking up a steaming, human-sized pile of shit in the pouring rain. By the time they got back to Fame’s mud room and Charles properly toweled off (with him stepping all over her chest with muddy paws in the process), she was soaked to the bone and shivering like crazy.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, wincing at her soggy, lifeless hair and smeared eye makeup, knowing that there was no way she could show up for a date looking like that. She got out her phone, dialing Bianca’s number with shaking fingers.

“Hey, sunshine,” Bianca answered, and Courtney closed her eyes, cringing at how wrong that nickname was at the moment.

“Hi. Um...I don’t think I can make it tonight,” she said, trying her best not to cry.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just...I had a situation with Fame’s dog and I’m soaking wet and I look an absolute mess and I can’t-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...are you okay? It’s freezing outside!” Bianca exclaimed.

“Yeah...I just...I should go home, I can’t-”

“You’re not seriously thinking about getting on a train to the Bronx right now, are you? You’ll die of hypothermia. I can hear your teeth chattering, for fuck’s sake.”

“But I can’t go out, I look-”

“Okay, then we’ll stay in.”

“But you wanted to go out, and-”

“No, I wanted to spend time with you. I’m starting a hot bath right now. Get a cab, come over, I’ll see you in ten minutes,” Bianca instructed, and Courtney couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief that someone else was taking charge of the situation.

***

Gigi couldn’t stop staring at herself in the hallway mirror, her fingers gliding through her silky soft hair for the third time.

It was the most gorgeous deep auburn red, the color bringing out her freckles and playing up her grey eyes.

She looked like a completely different person, and she loved it.

“Looks like someones been to Juju’s.”

Gigi turned to see Symone leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her face, the adorable gap between her white front teeth stupidly charming.

“What gave it away?” Gigi giggled, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“Just wait til you go shopping.” Symone grinned, her jeans slung low on her hips. “The underwear I have now is more expensive than any other clothes I have ever owned.”

“You got new underwear?” Gigi felt her eyes widened. “With like… With Sutan?” She bit her lip. Sutan had gone with her to the salon, him and Juju talking quietly while she was getting her hair washed by an assistant. They had obviously made the right choice, Gigi feeling like a superhero, but she couldn’t imagine any man coming with her to a lingerie store.

“Sure.” Symone shrugged. “It’s all ‘foundational undergarments’ and ‘French cut’ this, ‘t-shirt bra’ that. ‘You need a secure adhesive backless’. Where I’m from we just call those chicken cutlets.” Symone smiled. “For my first fitting, he asked me to wear high rise briefs and a seamless bra. I felt like my grandma.”

Gigi laughed, the tiny worry she had felt flare up already gone again.

“Do you want to cook dinner together?” Symone pushed out from the door, and Gigi nodded, this modeling thing already so much better than she had dared hoped for.

***

“Ah!” Violet moaned as Sutan pushed her forward, his body boxing her in and keeping her in place. They were in the kitchen, the counter digging into her hips.

“Hey gorgeous,” Sutan’s voice was low, his lips against her neck, his warmth breath tickling her skin. She felt him grab the edge of her skirt, hiking it up and over her knees, thighs and even ass as he pulled it higher and higher, pooling it on the counter, forcing Violet to hold it herself, his hand guiding her before he let go.

“Please-“ Violet groaned, his fingers digging into the fabric, every move she made exposing herself further.

“Please what?”

She could feel Sutan’s fingers glide up her outer thigh and Violet blushed, her core burning hot, her panties getting wetter by the second.

“Please-“

It felt absolutely filthy, and so fucking good, Sutan in complete control and Violet loved it.

They were both tipsy, their wine glasses and dinner plates in the sink, the dishes completely forgotten when Sutan had given Violet a quick kiss that had developed into so much more.

“Please what lovely eyes?” Sutan’s voice was silky smooth, nothing in his tone betraying the way his fingers danced over her ass cheek, nails scratching on skin, a fingertip sneaking under the lace.

“I-“ Violet swallowed. She felt like she was drowning, wanted to drown, wanted to disappear in everything Sutan was. “I-“

“Tell me,” Sutan whispered, his lips against her ear. “Or I might punish you darling.” He leaned forward, pushing her that little bit further, and that was when it happened.

“Ah!” Violet closed her eyes, a blinding pain shooting through her. “Wait! Wait wait wait!”

Her foot had gotten caught on an angle, and Sutan jumped backwards.

“Wait,” Violet took a deep breath through her nose, the pain already disappearing, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “Fuck-“

“Everything okay?”

Violet turned around to see that Sutan had taken literal steps back, his trousers still tented, his dick obviously hard underneath the zipper.

“Mmh,” Violet nodded, the delightful embarrassment from earlier replaced with something that felt a lot more like shame, her eyes focused on Sutan’s feet. “I-“

“Can I touch you again?”

Violet’s head snapped up, Sutan looking at her, a glimpse of insecurity in his eyes, almost like he was the one who had done something wrong.

“Please-“ Violet opened her arms, and seconds later she could bury her face in his neck, his arms around her, holding her tight, kisses pressed into her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Sutan murmed, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know-“ Violet smiled, the apology so unnecessary it was almost comical. “I know.”

“Good.” Sutan pulled back, a hand in her hair tilting Violet’s head upwards so he could look at her. “Good. I shouldn’t have-“

Violet leaned forward, shutting him up with a kiss, her arms going around his neck as she held him tight.

***

When her cab pulled up in front of Bianca’s building, the doorman immediately rushed forward to open her door. She was fumbling with her credit card, fingers still stiff and cold, but he gestured for her to put it away.

“Ms. Del Rio is taking care of that,” he said, handing over some cash to the driver, then covering her with an umbrella and walking her to the lobby, where she was sent up in a different elevator than last time, directly to Bianca’s second floor, right outside her bedroom.

Courtney clutched her soaking wet jacket, trying to get her bearings when Bianca appeared around the corner, looking at her with concern and dismay.

“Omigod, baby, come here…”

Courtney barely knew what was happening as Bianca rushed her into the bathroom, helping her strip off her wet things.

“What the fuck are you doing in these shoes in this weather? And this jacket--why aren’t you in a winter coat?” Bianca asked, dropping it to the floor and then unzipping her dress, her voice gentle despite the scolding words.

“Th-that is my winter coat.”

“That’s not a winter coat,” Bianca informed her, pulling the dress down.

Courtney didn’t have the energy to protest, and besides, she was much more concerned with the dress.

“The dress isn’t mine, I think I ruined it-” she began, voice breaking, and Bianca looked it over while she stepped out of her panties and placed her jewelry on the counter.

“It’ll be fine, it just needs to be cleaned,” Bianca promised, leading her, still shivering, over to the jacuzzi tub, where a huge pile of bubbles was waiting for her. “I didn’t make it too hot, because I didn’t want to shock your system. But you can change the temp if you want.”

Courtney sank into the bubbles, the water silky and warm as a hug. After a few seconds, she finally began to feel her fingers and toes again, flexing them under the water, a sigh leaving her. She looked up, where Bianca was setting a remote control at the edge of the tub--which apparently controlled the jets and the temperature and even the lights. Courtney had never seen anything like it. She’d also put out a whole basket of bath products and lit a couple of candles.

“I’ll give you some privacy now,” Bianca said. “I left some towels and a robe on the warmer, and uh...if you need anything else, just let me know, okay?”

“Can you stay?”

It was embarrassing to admit, but Courtney didn’t want to be alone right now. Bianca didn’t make her feel weird about it though, simply took a seat on the ledge beside her, chatting about her trip, the trouble her staff had created while she was away, her voice soothing as Courtney leaned back against the terry cloth pillow with her eyes shut.

After she’d warmed up a little, Bianca washed her hair, strong and sure fingertips massaging the lather into her scalp as the other hand cradled her neck. She then helped her dry off with heated towels, and finally wrapped her in a warm fluffy robe while she ran a blow dryer through her hair. Courtney couldn’t remember ever feeling this cared for in her life, not even as a child, and if it wasn’t such absolute heaven, she’d probably feel ashamed at how much she enjoyed it.

She managed to swallow down a few mouthfuls of soup from the Chinese delivery that Bianca had ordered for dinner before her eyelids began to droop. Bianca noticed immediately, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then leading her to bed. She curled into Bianca’s arms, limbs growing heavy as hands stroked her back soothingly.

“Do you feel better now, angel?” Bianca asked.

“I felt better the second I walked in the door,” Courtney murmured.

“Yeah?”

“I guess there’s not really a door. The second I stepped off your elevator,” Courtney said, making Bianca laugh, her sleepiness causing her to be more honest than was probably called for, adding a whispered, “You make everything better.”

***

Pearl sat at a stool towards the back of the club, nursing a drink while telling herself over and over again that she was doing nothing wrong.

For one thing, she and Adore were over. Actually, fully over. And for another, she had no idea if Dahlia was even dancing tonight. She’d just come by for a casual drink...for the third time in 3 days. Just to see. Just to look.

And there was nothing wrong with looking, right? Even if she had lied to Trixie and Katya about where she was.

Pearl had already brushed off a parade of girls, tipping all of them, but saying no to everything else they offered, since she didn’t want to miss her chance of seeing Dahlia.

She was just about to give up, when one of the last dancers of the night came on, and there, there she was.

Dahlia was just as beautiful as Pearl remembered her, even more beautiful actually, since her costume for the night was the naughtiest sheer black teddy and lace panties, tiny little pink bows attached to the spaghetti straps of her top.

Her brown hair was styled in a delicate mess of brown curls, her plump lips painted pink, her eyes heavy and sultry, Dahlia looking like a sex kitten getting ready to go on the prowl.

Pearl swallowed as ‘Kiss It Better’ by Rihanna started playing, taking a big gulp of her drink.

Pearl hadn’t known if she wanted Dahlia to notice that she was there, hadn’t really thought this through at all, but when Dahlia dipped down on the pole, her ass beyond perfection, their eyes met across the room.

Pearl watched as Dahlia’s lips parted for a second, her eyes widening, but then, she smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

***

“Mmh,” Raven moaned, her fingers in Raja’s long dark hair, her fiancée's lips on her neck, one of her hands up her top. They had been watching a movie on the couch, staying in just the two of them such a rare treat that they had even made popcorn. “Please-”

“Please?” Raja grinned, her long body on top of Raven’s under their blanket, their movie completely forgotten. “Are you being polite princess?”

“Fuck off.” Raven showed Raja’s shoulder, which only made the older woman laugh. “I’m perfectly polite.”

“Sure,” Raja smiled, shifting her knee so it slid in between Raven’s thighs, her skirt riding up to make room for Raja’s pant covered leg. “That’s what I love about you. How polite you are.”

Raven pulled on Raja’s hair, a surprised gasp leaving her girlfriend. She thrusted her hips, forcing Raja off balance and down in a messy kiss, teeth clacking, their lipsticks smearing, Raven taking charge.

***

“Just a few more minutes.” Trixie smiled, his open palm resting on Katya’s knee, his thumb rubbing up and down, trying his best to be comforting.

They were in the bathroom, Katya sitting on the closed toilet while Trixie knelt on the floor next to her, the elephant in the room the pregnancy test that was lying on the edge of the sink, both of them doing their damndest not to look at it yet.

He could tell she was anxious, knew that from the second she told him that she’d bought the test after work, even before she admitted that she was afraid to take it.

Trixie had always assumed that one day he’d be a father, and he was certain that Katya would be the best mom ever, so in his mind, this news was either amazingly exciting or slightly disappointing.

But Katya was another story, her clear terror making him dampen his own enthusiasm so that she felt safe to express herself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel guilty for being scared on top of everything else. He knew, also, that there was a chance that she wouldn’t want this potential baby, so he prepared himself mentally to support her in whatever she wanted to do.

“I love you,” he offered softly, adding, “And it’ll be okay, no matter what it says.”

“Mmhmm,” Katya murmured agreement, though her eyes said that she didn’t fully believe him.

“Yo yo yo, where my bitches at?!” called out a voice, the slur telling them that Pearl had been drinking quite a bit.

Trixie assumed that Katya wouldn’t want to be interrupted during this private moment, but apparently, he was wrong.

“We’re in here!” Katya called, and Pearl’s heavy footsteps approached the door, pushing it open.

“This is a weird place for a party, dudes,” Pearl said, jacket hanging off one of her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Umm…” Trixie considered how to handle the situation delicately.

“I might be knocked up,” Katya said quickly, and Pearl’s eyes grew large, her mouth falling open.

“Wh-how?”

“Probably sex,” she answered, and all three of them laughed, breaking the tension just a little.

“So…” Pearl plopped down beside Trixie on the tile floor, and a rush of gratitude flooded his heart, relieved for the distraction, understanding why Katya called her in. That is, until she asked, “Have we thought about names? Cause I’d like to submit ‘Pearl Junior’ for consideration.”

“Pearl Junior?” Trixie scoffed. “Why, you’re not the father.”

“Come on! Little Pearlie J. P.J.?!”

“I don’t hate it,” Katya said, and Pearl cheered, giving her a fist bump. “But remember, I might not even be pregnant.”

“True, but you guys are getting married. It’ll be relevant eventually.”

“Not necessarily,” said Katya, gripping Trixie’s hand tighter. He squeezed her back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“Yuh huh! That’s why we call you ‘breeders’!” Pearl insisted.

“But I just don’t-” Katya began, but was interrupted by the timer on Trixie’s phone.

“You ready?” he asked, taking both of her hands in his.

“No.”

“Well...remember, sometimes these tests aren’t 100% accurate. So whatever it says, it might not mean...” He reached out, catching a tear that had slipped down her cheek. “Babe…”

“I know. But I...can’t look.” Katya curled into his arms, burying her face in his neck. “You do it.”

Unfortunately, the stick was just out of reach, unless he let go of her, which he wasn’t prepared to do.

“Pearl, can you-”

“Sure.” Pearl snatched the test off the sink, looking at it, brow furrowed. “What the fuck does 11 mean?”

Katya’s head snapped up, reaching for the test while Pearl picked up the box.

“Why would it say 11? That’s so dumb, how do you know if...ohhhh.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #bitney #vitan #dahlia x pearl #raja x raven #trixya #courtney act #ivy winters #gigi goode #symone #violet chachki #raja gemini #bianca del rio #pearl liaison #dahlia sin #raven #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au #smut

[awfdawef]

The bleeding freerider was carried

Readers are encouraged to consult their personal financial advisor before making any decisions to buy, sell or hold any securities mentioned herein.NO WARRANTY OR LIABILITY ASSUMED Analysts Review is not responsible for any error which may be occasioned at the time of printing of this document or any error, mistake or shortcoming. Aspirin, ibuprofen, and other nonsteroidal anti inflammatory medications (both prescription and over the counter) and beta blockers (used to control high blood pressure) can aggravate asthma, says Dr. Out in the yard, night was settling over the Dreadfort and a full cizme din denim moon was rising over the castle’s eastern walls. Civil Air Patrol is responsible for more than 90 percent of inland search and rescue missions. He sobbed like a child, like a woman. We invite all those having negroes for sale to call on us at our mart, opposite the lower steamboat landing. We have to make sure the young kids understand. ABOUT three weeks ago, under suspicious circumstances, a negro woman, who calls herself PHEBE, or PHILLIS. The sea was grey and cold and far away, though, and he knew that he would never live to see it. It already has a backlog of 2,191 737s that have been ordered by airlines around the world but not yet built.. However, in a benchmark like Kraken the Nexus 9 easily pulls ahead to take the top spot. The bleeding freerider was carried across the bridge and up the steps, still protesting. But I saw him as a cat who was particularly adept at putting his paw on whatever was irrelevant to his lifestyle. Until then we will let the benchmarks speak for themselves. Why should they have to? They're adults. One of my favorite players of all time was Nate. "Today's decision may nike black tn 001 have been unanimous and there is also likely to be a majority in favour of cutting the bank rate further in the autumn an unusually strong example of forward guidance. So I emailed them saying so and asking to still take advantage of the discount offer no reply.. The Brake Controller Electric trailer brakes require a brake controller. This was very necessary to enable him the more conveniently to get control of Katya’s money. I was overcome by horror, too. Good for those running for office to talk to real small business owners! Networking, full buffet breakfast and interesting and informative speaker. The finish is quite "rough" looking, but it should be just fine. A helicopter carrying Williams and his crew never came under fire, but a Chinook copter that was more than an hour ahead of that aircraft did. The stepped point de croix chaletpyramids of the mighty had been

cazadora vaquera tommy hilfiger

spared the worst of the ravages, but the humbler parts of the city had been given over to an orgy of looting and killing as the city’s slaves rose up and the starving hordes who had followed her from Yunkai and Astapor poured through the broken gates. With the amount of digital data that we create today in the form of photos, videos, movies and other personal data, you can be damn sure that some day you are going to wish for more hard drive space. But what can we do? You’re right; if only her parents will forgive us! And how I love them — if you only knew! They’ve been like a father and mother to me, and this is how I repay them! Ach, these quarrels, these lawsuits! You can’t imagine how unpleasant all that is now. Smith currently injured, the Eastern Conference leading Cavs are in need of some reinforcements as they try to hold off Boston and Toronto for the top seed.. Den I sold up here—now hab ‘noder husband—hab four children up here. On the contrary, you showed a positive neglect of us, and were perhaps waiting for the moment when I should come to beg you to do us the honour to give my son your hand. If you are thinking about purchasing a Dyson vacuum, or a vacuum cleaner in general, then you have a lot of items to decipher. It was almost noon before she saw the man she wanted, a prosperous shipowner she had seen doing business with the old man three times before. “Shadows and whispers.” What else had Quaithe said? The pale mare and the sun’s son. Im by far not lazy at all. Their summits glimmered pale and jagged as a row of sharpened teeth. "Plant Spartanburg was built to enhance and expand the BMW line up, underscoring the BMW Group commitment to the United States," Reithofer said. Is not the doctrine that men may lawfully sell the members of Christ, his body, his flesh and bones, for purposes of gain, as really a heresy as the denial of the divinity of

brassiere garcon

Christ; and is it not a dishonor to Him who is over all, God blessed forever, to tolerate this dreadful opinion, with its more dreadful consequences, while the smallest heresies concerning the imputation of Adam’s sin are pursued with eager vehemence? If the history of the action of all the bodies thus united can be traced downwards, we shall find that, by reason of this tolerance of an admitted sin, the anti-slavery testimony has every year grown weaker and weaker. When he puts the bottle on the table, the label is facing away from the audience, in the next few scenes the biciclete pret label is towards the audience and then in the next shot, away from the zapatillas guess mujer corte inglesaudience again.. Perhaps . There are various different shoe types that can be used to help alleviate the pressure on the plantar aspect of the foot.. Third flight: 1, Jack Lutz (64); 2, Don Freeman (66); 3, Gene Rideout (68 card off). Free to dress as you choose, but it is my strong belief that racist, crude and culturally insensitive costumes say a lot about the person wearing that costume. They've grown up in

catalog cercei aur turcia

front of our eyes.. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. One went before him, one behind, and one to either side. Battle at Bristol NASCAR More Local Sports College Sports Pro Sports Titans NCAA Basketball Tournament Super Bowl World Cup Features Recipes Worth Sharing Volunteer Heart GorillaCam Magnify Money Pay It Forward More. “Those who die heroic deaths are long remembered, thieves and drunks and cravens soon forgotten.”. You've got to have the necessary clothes that work together to allow for freedom of movement, without appearing too bulky. To keep the furniture from staining the floor or carpet while it dries, use aluminum foil or wooden blocks to separate them.. The argument on one side was, that the time was now come to take decided measures to cut free wholly from all pro-slavery complicity, and avow their principles with decision, even though it should repel all such churches from their communion as were not prepared for immediate

pantaloni elisabetta franchi saldi

emancipation.. Stowe has drawn of slavery as an institution is anything but favorable. When Jaime handed him the map, he took one look and chuckled. CHINA IS DOING A MANIPULATION I NEVER THOUGHT THEY WOULD HAVE THE GUSTS TO DO IT. Varamyr could feel the snowflakes melting on his brow. 7, 1958, for recon satellites there was no special project or SAP for it, only the existing CIA and AF orgs. Southern men often go to the extent of their means, and beyond their means, to arrest the cruel operations 138of trade, and relieve cases of individual distress. And NOT just for the excitement and sports history, and the END of "The Curse" for the Cubs. However, did fehér női bőr csizma you know that gluten free recipes are for things like fudge, pancakes, pies and piecrusts and many more, delicious things and treats? You can have cakes and lasagna and pasta dishes the only difference is these things contain substitutes for the flour.

[jadesbabylon]

Christmas party - Pearlet imagine

In which Pearl has a crush on Violet and Trixie plays Cupid on Christmas Eve.

A/N: Lots of fluff and mentions of Trixya

Merry Christmas! 😘💝

It was Christmas Eve, and Pearl never felt as giddy about Christmas as this year.

Her apartment in New York was decorated with too many fairy lights, courtesy of Trixie, who had jumped at the idea of organizing this year’s Christmas party.

“So? What do you think?” Trixie asked, standing proudly in the middle of Pearl’s living room.

“It’s…different.” Pearl said, looking around. She was convinced that there was no way this was her apartment.

“No need to be so excited, Pearl!” Trixie said, sarcastically.

“Sorry, I’m just stunned. This is great, you did an amazing job.” Pearl complimented.

Trixie’s smile grew. “I know, thanks.” She said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

“When is everyone arriving?” Pearl asked, sitting down on her white leather couch.

Trixie comes back with two mugs in her hands. She sits down next to Pearl and hands her one.

Pearl takes the mug and takes a sip of the hot chocolate.

“I told them to be here around 7.” Trixie replies.

Time passed way too slowly.

Trixie and Pearl spent the entire afternoon attempting to bake gingerbread cookies (that ended up a little over cooked) and cooking dinner.

Katya was the first to arrive, and quickly took care of decorating the gingerbread cookies in the weirdest ways. One was described by Katya herself as “Santa and Satan’s child”.

Trixie simply shook her head as she continued to make the world’s most perfect snowman with the white icing.

Pearl was sat on the kitchen counter, looking at the clock every five minutes.

Where the hell is Violet?

Violet wasn’t known for being late, and she wasn’t, but Pearl couldn’t wait to see her, to be with her. It had been too long since Pearl and Violet last saw each other.

“So, Pearl, are you excited about this secret Santa?” Katya asks.

Pearl snaps out of her trance. “Uh, yeah. It’s cool, I guess.”

Katya and Trixie share a knowing look.

“Are you gonna tell us who you got?” Trixie asks.

“Violet.” Pearl replies.

“Oh, really? That’s cute.” Trixie smirks.

“Why are you two looking at me like that?” Pearl asks, looking at her two friends.

“You’re such a love sick puppy, it’s disgusting, really.” Katya grimaces.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Trixie laughs. “Please, Pearl. We all know about your 3 year long crush on Violet.”

Pearl opens her mouth to deny Trixie’s statement, but closes it.

“The turkey! Is anybody watching the turkey?” Pearl says instead, turning her back to the two queens and opening the oven to check on their dinner.

The doorbell rings and Trixie puts her pastry bag down, leaving the kitchen to open the door.

Pearl turns back to Katya and grabs her cigarettes, the wait was killing her.“I swear, Trixie feels too damn comfortable in my apartment.” Pearl shakes her head. “Wanna go outside for a smoke?”

Katya nods. “Sure.”

Both queens leave to the balcony, that had also been decorated by Trixie.

Pearl sat down on the sofa outside, Katya following.

Both friends smoked in silence, taking in the amazing view of New York. It was snowing, and Pearl swore that it couldn’t feel any more like Christmas like it did.

They could hear Trixie’s laugh from inside the house, as more people arrived.

“You were talking about my crush on Violet, but what about you and Trixie?” Pearl asks Katya.

“Oh mama, that bitch hates me.” Katya laughs, kicking around.

Pearl chuckles. “I’m not so sure.”

“I did try to get in her pants, but she wouldn’t let me.” Katya exaggeratedly sighs.

Pearl laughs. ”Oh my god. You guys are gonna end up married, mark my words.”

Katya shrugs, putting out her cigarette in the ash tray.

Pearl follows and both queens walk back inside, closing the balcony door.

“Fame!” Katya screeches, running towards the younger queen.

Fame, who was talking to her husband, Trixie and Kim Chi, jumps at the sound of Katya’s loud voice.

The queens share a hug and Katya starts making fun of Fame and her husband’s matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

Pearl walks towards Kim Chi, giving her long time friend a hug. “How are you?”

“I’m great! Fresh out of tour.” Kim Chi replies.

“Guys? Hi! The door was open so I walked inside.”

Pearl turns around. There she was, Violet, looking beautiful, as always.

Violet’s long brown locks were gone, and Pearl was going to miss running her hands through them.

“Vi!” Pearl exclaimed, walking towards the younger queen.

“Pearl!” Violet smiled.

The world stopped. Violet was the only thing Pearl could see as she got lost in her brown eyes.

Pearl stood in front of Violet, giving her a tight hug.

Violet’s hand caressed Pearl’s hip and back, holding her just as tight.

“I missed you.” Pearl admitted, her voice muffled by Violet’s neck.

Violet sighs. “I missed you too.”

“Are you two done? Because I happen to also miss this bitch!” Katya exclaims.

Violet laughs and breaks the hug, greeting Katya and the rest of their friends.

Pearl watched her with a smile on her face, her heart beating fast.

Soon after, the doorbell was ringing yet again.

Pearl rests her hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

She walks towards the door and opens it to see Naomi and Adore on the other side.

“Merry Christmas!” The both of them exclaimed.

“Merry Christmas!” Pearl replied.

Adore was holding a pie in her hands. “I brought desert!”

“I brought drinks!” Naomi chuckled, showing the bottles of wine on her hands.

“Oh thank god!” Trixie says, appearing behind Pearl and taking the bottles from Naomi. “Come in, you guys!”

Pearl takes the pie from Adore’s hands.

“I thought this was your place?” She asks.

“It is.”

Adore furrows her eyebrows. “But Trixie…”

“Trixie basically lives here with me.” Pearl chuckles.

The three queens walk towards the rest of the group, and Pearl puts the pie on the kitchen counter.

The group of friends sat down and enjoyed the dinner Pearl and Trixie prepared, well, mostly Trixie, while sharing stories about tour.

The group laughed at the sight Katya’s Santa/Satan cookies, the exact opposite of Trixie’s glittery snowmen.

“They are so creepy that they’re cute.” Adore said, looking at one of Katya’s cookies.

“Yours look amazing too, Trixie. I like the eatable glitter.” Violet complimented.

“Finally someone appreciates my art!” Trixie exclaims, making Pearl laugh.

Violet stared at Pearl, who was sitting in front of her. She missed her, a lot more than she thought she would, there was no point denying the chemistry between the two.

Violet didn’t like Christmas, she thought it had become something greedy, only about presents, but still, she was happy to be here with Pearl and the others.

“How about we start with the Secret Santa?” Trixie asks.

“Let’s do it!” Katya claps.

The group of friends sat down on Pearl’s couches, Adore sitting down on top of a pillow on the floor.

The queens exchanged presents, until it was Pearl’s turn.

“Well, uh, I got Violet.” Pearl says, a smile appearing on Violet’s face. “I know you don’t really like Christmas, which made giving you a present real hard.” Pearl chuckles, the group laughing.

“So I decided to give you something a little more sentimental.” Pearl stand up and walks towards the Christmas tree, taking Violet’s gift from under it.

Pearl walks towards Violet, handing her the box. “I hope you like it.”

Violet smiles, taking the gift from Pearl’s hands. She carefully removes the ribbon, opening the Christmas themed box, to reveal a beautiful drawing.

“It’s us. I drew it myself.” Pearl explains.

Violet stared at the on point drawing of herself, in her season finale look with her crown, kissing Pearl, who was also wearing her finale dress.

“Pearl… this is beautiful.” Violet was stunned, to say the least. She got up and gave Pearl a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Pearl was blushed, hugging Violet back. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Show us the drawing!” Naomi exclaimed.

“I think I’ll keep this to the both of us.” Violet replied, putting the drawing back in the box.

“Oooooh, is it that hot?” Adore laughed.

“I don’t even want to know.” Trixie chuckled.

“Violet, you’re left!” Katya urged.

“Well, funny enough, I got you, Pearl.” Violet chuckled.

Pearl raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Trixie tried to hold her laughter in, as Katya nudged her.

Trixie only hoped that cheating on the Secret Santa by making both queens give each other gifts would be enough to finally get them together.

“I had no idea what to give you, but I think this is enough.” Violet stated, handing Pearl a photo album with a purple ribbon on it.

Pearl takes the photo album, opening it to see what seemed like every picture of them ever, in chronological order, with descriptions for every single one.

“Violet, this must have given you so much work!” Pearl gushed.

“It did, but I think it was worth it.” Violet smiled. “In that album is a hell of a lot of memories that we both share, but I was hoping that we could make many more, starting with today.” Violet explains.

Trixie grabs Katya’s arm, squeezing it. This was it, her plan was going to work.

“I hate how cliché this is, trust me, but I have been waiting for you to say or do something for too long. I like you, a lot, and I don’t care if we’re always traveling and can’t see each other as much, because at the end of the day, my heart still screams for you.” Violet says, standing inches away from Pearl.

The group of friends tried not to make too much noise, but every single one of them was shocked.

“I’m glad you have a lot more balls than I do.” Pearl says, grabbing the back of Violet’s neck and kissing her.

Trixie was the first to get up, hyping the couple up. “YES BITCH!”

The other queens soon joined, overjoyed for Violet and Pearl.

Pearl could not believe that this was happening, Violet was hers, and she was Violet’s.

Violet broke the kiss, a huge smile on her face. “Merry Christmas!”

#pearl liaison #violet chachki #pearlet #rpdr #rpdr7 #rupaul's drag race #rupaulsdragraceseason7 #trixie mattel #trixya #katya zamolodchikova #naomi smalls #miss fame #adore delano #kim chi #pearlet imagine #my writing

[grumpyzutara]

Necklace

I heard people liked the idea of an Anastasia AU, and truthfully so do I, so – here you go. The Earth Kingdom map will be a little skewed, so don't get critical over distances/time and places, etc. There will be changes to the Disney version, but that is what I'm inspired by. After I finish all of the connected prompts I'll post the combined effort on AO3, potentially adding scenes. I'll let everyone know if I do.

Memory loss is hard to explain to people who can remember everything, when they know who they were raised with and what they did 10 years ago. For Katya though, all she can recall is from the last 5 years. The first 15 years of her life was a blank canvas.

Ever since she woke up in the youth hospital, she had lived in an orphanage and when she aged out, she started working for them. Now, after budget cuts, she was forced to move out.

"Where are you headed," Toph, the headmistress and closest thing to a mother figure Katya had known. The short blind woman was "seeing" Katya off, standing on the cement steps.

"I don't know. There's a job posting for a nurse assistant in training up in the north, but I don't really want to go up there." Katya fiddled with the bag on her back. It contained everything she had collected and was very small. She hardly had any money. Even going to the north, she would have to find odd jobs along the way.

"But what does your heart say? You could go and explore, maybe figure out who your family was."

At the mention of family, Katya instinctively touched the necklace at the base of her neck. It was the only thing she still had from waking up in the hospital. The deep blue stone was worn smooth on the edges, veins of a lighter blue swirled throughout. On the front was a carving of a wave, flecks of gold still seen in the crevasses. The back held a single inscription – United.  

Katya had thought about her decision all day. "I think I'll go to Ba Sing Se and then find a way to Republic City. If I have family, they should be along there."

Toph gave her signature move of care, a punch to the shoulder, "You're smart, Sugar Queen, you'll figure it out. By the time you reach Republic City you'll have turned your thousand dollars into tens of thousands."

"I hope so." Katya started to walk away, wanting to avoid an emotional goodbye, but she couldn't. Rushing back, she pulled the older woman into a hug. "Thank you. I know everyone, myself included, doesn't say it enough, but thank you."

"Ah, don't get all mushy on me. Get outta here, scram!" Toph said while holding back a smile and tears at the same time.

"I promise I'll write to Jin, make her read out every word," Katya said, walking backward toward the front gate. "Even if I find my family, I'll never forget you." Katya didn't even try to hide it, she was crying with ease. This was the only home she ever knew. She was essentially homeless, hoping to get odd jobs along the way. She wasn't afraid to work hard. The small pack on her back held everything she had accumulated – which wasn't much.

The road to Ba Sing Se would be short, just a walk for an hour or two in chilly weather but she was bundled up. Sure, she had walked to the nearby town for food supplies, but Katya had never traveled this far and it would be even farther if her journey took her to Republic City.

She was making her way to the top of a hill that turned out to overlook Ba Sing Se when she saw the structure on the edge of town. It was a large house, more like a conglomeration of multiple houses, situated in the middle of an open area of land. Looking ahead, the road would pass right by.

The closer she walked, the more ornate the details appeared but also the more deserted. No cars. No animals. No people. Now it was obvious to her. This was the palace for the fallen monarchy.

It was whispered about all the time, but it happened right before she woke up, literally days before. The Last Tribal Royal Family had been killed in an uprising to form a new government, one dictated by the people living in it. Surprisingly, no one had moved in it would seem.

The front gate was boarded up but the gap in the ironwork was too intriguing. Since there wasn't a guard, she slipped through.

The abandoned palace was breathtaking. Made of white and blue stone, the sprawling building looked more like snow and ice than solid rock. There were carvings along the roofline, depicting water in multiple forms; streams, waterfalls, oceans, et cetera. It was beautiful and depressing. All this wealth and glory, and now it's not even used.

Though the windows were also covered by wood planks, one of the side doors was completely usable. What would it hurt to take a look inside?

The side entrance seemed to be used for servants as it was hardly decorated. The hallways were bare, all of the furniture was gone. Katya made her way through, as if she was following an invisible string telling her where to go.

The last door she pushed through opened to a large open room. The floor seemed to glow with the silver details inside the wood, even with the layer of dirt and dust. There were mirrors on every wall. Chandeliers with cobwebs. Large staircases perfect for grand entrances. This was the famed ballroom where it all began – the uprising.

Katya walked along, a few dusty tables remained but otherwise everything was taken, save for the large painting at the top of the stairs. Maybe it was too big to remove.

On the other side of where she came in were glass door that overlooked what was probably at one time a beautiful garden. Now, it sat in ruins and overgrowth.

"Hey, you there! What are you doing here?" A male voice shouted at her.

In an instant she was sprinting toward an exit. She didn't think she'd actually get caught snooping around but now that there was someone else here, she wanted out fast.

"Wait!" The sound of shoes running after her pushed her. "Wait! Just hold on!" She was no match for the man though as he caught her arm and turned her around. "What were you on the track team? Short distance sprint?" He was out of breath, puffing out the words. "Look you're not in trouble, I just wanted to know who you are and why you're here."

Katya looked up at the man. He was hardly older than her, wearing average clothes, though they were in better condition than hers. The palace wasn't his, was he the caretaker? She remained silent.

He sighed, pulled a hand through his saggy hair, accentuating the scar around his left eye. "Alright, fine, don't talk. You have to leave then. Go on, start moving."

"What's going on? I heard voices." Another male voice came drifting in through an open door. In seconds a plump, older man walked in.

"Shit," the younger man said under his breath. "Iroh, stay out of this. I found someone sneaking around. I'm just escorting them out."

The older man huffed, "That's no way to treat a guest. My dear, what on earth are you doing in a place like this? Are you alright?"

Katya thought for a second, "I was just walking by, wanted a look in. It seemed abandoned. Just let me leave and I'll be out of your hair."

"Seemed abandoned? You must not be from Ba Sing Se, no one has lived inside here for almost 5 years." Iroh said, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"No, I'm from a village down the road. I was hoping to find some family in Ba Sing Se though. If not there, then I'll go to Republic City."

"What's their name? Maybe we can be of assistance. My nephew, Zuko, here has quite the network of contacts."

Katya blushed in embarrassment, "Well, that's the thing. I don't know. I lost my memory and my family at the same time. I just hope I can figure things out." She blew out her breath, "Look, I'll just get out of your hair. Which is the way out?"

"My name is Iroh, if you have troubles in Ba Sing Se, look for the tea shop in the lower ring. Try the door on the right. Safe travels."

Iroh was very kind and warm, Katya wished she had met him during another time. If she had extra money to spend, the thought going to a tea shop sounded lovely. But she didn't have extra money to spare, so she'd probably never see him again. She nodded goodbye and started to walk away.

With her back to the men, she heard the younger man ask, "What is your name? You do have a first name, don't you?"

Katya rolled her eyes and turned back to face him, "Of course I have a first name, I just might not feel like telling you." Now it was time for Zuko to roll his eyes. "If you must know, it's Katya."

"You don't look like a Katya to me."

"Oh, and what do I look like to you?"

"You look annoying." Iroh could hardly contain his laughter, the pair were so well suited for each other.

"Now Nephew," Iroh stepped between the pair and turned his shoulders to face the large painting on the wall. "Can't you see the resemblance?"

Zuko stared but all he could see was a painting of the Last Tribal Royal family. They were dressed in ceremonial furs and positioned just so. As far as artistic value goes, it was extremely detailed with flecks of gold still clinging to the canvas. "What are you talking about Uncle? I don't see anything?"

Iroh pulled him in closer to whisper, "Look closer. Does that necklace not look familiar? And before you say it’s a knock off, I will tell you now that I've not seen one like it since the fall of the family. She could be the one. Or at the least, a very passible copy."

"So, you say you want to go to Republic City," Zuko said after a minute's consideration, turning quickly to address Katya, who stood with her arms crossed and attitude in her hips, "ahem, that's where we're headed and we happen to have one extra ticket. Unfortunately, its reserved for her, the Last Princess Katara. We're hoping to reunite her with her Grandmother."

"What are you talking about, everyone knows they're all dead."

"They say that most of the family is dead. However, there are rumors that the princess still lives." Zuko started to circle around Katya, giving her an exaggerated look-over. "My uncle and I just so happen to be believers of that theory."

Katya gave a noise of frustration, "Would you stop circling me like a hawk? Get to the point. I'm not the princess, so why are you telling me about this extra ticket?"

Iroh swooped in, lightly turning her to face the same painting, "You say you don't remember anything and you've lost your family. For all you know, you could be the lost princess. Look into the eyes of the little girl in the painting, does she look familiar at all? We just want to help a lost girl to find her Gran Gran again."

It was like a cold bucket of water was poured down her back. She had to have heard that term before, and maybe it was the context of this woman being hers, that she felt in the back of her mind, she called her grandmother Gran Gran.

"How...how do you know?" She stuttered to whisper.

Iroh looked at her with sad, curious eyes, "How do I know what?"

"That she called her grandmother Gran Gran? That's not a very royal title." Katya's gaze was still glued to the painting. Of course, since it was a formal painting, they all looked fairly happy. A grandmother, parents and two children. A family. Real people. It didn't seem possible that she could have ever belonged to theirs.

"I was once the esteemed aid to the High Court Judge. I spent a lot of time with the adults of the Tribal Royal Family. The children growing up were kept from public view, but many people called the King's Mother Kanna by that nickname." His face darkened, "I don't agree with the fall of the family, but I am happy that at least she was able to escape. I just hope that maybe...maybe we stumbled upon one more survivor." Iroh chuckled to break up the mood, "I apologize, do you want to stay for tea while you think about our offer?"

Katya took Iroh's outstretched elbow and he guided her to a different door. All the while, Zuko had his arms crossed, constantly appraising her behavior.

"Um, sure. A cup of tea doesn't hurt."

They ended up in a kitchen that was in decent condition. The pair obviously had taken up residence inside the palace, they hadn't been just passing through like her. They were silent, save for Iroh's humming, as he prepared the treat.

"What would happen if I said I wanted to go to Republic City as the lost princess?" Katya said once she had a warm cup between her hands.

Zuko pushed off of the counter that he had been leaning on. "For starters, we'll have to get you to look the part. Right now, you don't sound or act like a princess. Then after a week, we'll introduce you to the King's Mother Kanna."

"Oh, so I don't sound like a princess, why am I not surprised you'd make that comment." Katya made a bit of a face to go along with her attitude, showing exactly what Zuko had been saying.

Iroh, ever the peacekeeper, stepped forward to poor more hot water in their cups. "Lesson one, princesses don't argue, they rebuttal."  

To be continued tomorrow with Dancing.

#Anastasia au #zutara month 2017 #zutara fanfic #please let me know if I did what everyone was thinking justice #this will be continued with dancing moonlight and probably regrets

[andtheywereroom-mates]

love love love - of monsters and men 

so i think it’s best we both forget before we dwell on it 

Loki drums her fingers along the outer edge of her hand, both clasped tightly behind her back as she waits, silently, for the moment Katya will be horrified, through with her.

However, it does not come. Katya gazes out the window in that measured, captivated way she would and then softly turns back towards the Asgardian. She smiles graciously, crossing the room to unknot Loki’s hands and squeeze them in her own. “Of Mischief, hm?” She searches Katya’s earnest expression, but still says nothing. Katya traces the jotun marks now visible along her lover’s arms. “Well, I can’t say there isn’t a title more fitting.” She presses her cheek into one of Loki’s palms and grins. “My lovely scoundrel.” The smile remains on her face, but there is a melancholy look in her eyes when their gazes meet again.

“I suppose this means you’ll be going back to grander things with your brother and-” she falters for the smallest of moments, “and your wife.” Loki’s jaw sets as Katya smiles warmly. The god is not sure what they expected—screaming, tears, anger, anything but the steadfast kindness and understanding in her eyes. Katya wraps her arms around the taller woman and nestles beneath her chin. “Thank you.” Loki is taken aback. She had used this measly human for her own entertainment, she had lied. Loki cannot bring herself to speak, instead simply swallows down the lump forming in her throat.  “Thank you for choosing me, for whatever fleeting moments,” The smaller woman’s fingers fist into the fabric of Loki’s dress and she can feel Katya’s breath, warm on her neck, “I shall cherish them always.”

Her words twist something within the Asgardian and all at once she is taking Katya’s face in her hands and searching those wide, soft brown eyes and realizing that through everything, she had been lying to herself most of all. Loki had lied about her intentions, about who she was, what she was, but in this moment every sweet nothing she has ever said rings true. Katya had stopped being just a human long ago and she’d been foolish to continue believing otherwise. Loki seizes her lips, kissing her deep and desperate to memorize exactly how this feels: the softness of her skin, her delicate fingers moving up to trace the back of her neck, her sweet smile against her lips. Loki presses her forehead against Katya’s, willing the strength to say the only words she can manage, the words breaking her apart, the words Katya needs to hear.

Katya seems to sense this and kisses her softly once more. “Don’t,” Katya’s whisper is strained, like it is taking everything in her to keep her composure. She traces her thumbs along Loki’s cheeks before stepping away, holding Loki’s hands in her own. “Don’t keep your brother, dorogoy.” Loki’s brows knit together, pained; she opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it once more, nodding.

He shifts and he looks just the way Katya remembered him that first day she barreled into him on the square. She smiles sadly as he lingeringly kisses her hand and heads out the door to meet his brother who has been waiting, annoyed and impatient, downstairs. On the landing, Loki hesitates and in a final glance, in a moment she believes he cannot see, he watches all her gracious strength crumble as she falls to her knees and breaks into sobs.  

“She took that well,” Thor supplies, following behind his brother as he storms down the street. “I do not wish to make small talk.” “Sigyn will be glad you’re home.” Loki stops walking, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “Shut up.” Thor swings Mjolnir idly, getting ready to beam them through the Bifrost. “Relax brother, you’ll have forgotten about this before you know it, and the Midgardian’ll be long gone.” “Thor.” The blonde pauses and finally looks at his brother, at the murderous, anguished expression he wears. He presses his mouth into a thin line and calls Heimdall. “Right. Straight home in silence then.” 

#wip #otp: nature boy #f: the truth

[remeny-writes]

Christmas-ish part 1

So this is for the @rpdrficexchange. I got matched up with @honeyedcurves and I really hope you like it. If you don't, I can write something different.

Thanks to @mistressaq @artificialeevee and Care (who's tumblr name I can't remember.)

TW Major Character death, hospitals, illicit drugs by name.

Katya's hand had gone slack in Trixie's but he was too afraid to pull his hand away with the fear of waking him. He rarely got much rest which was something he desperately needed. Trixie studied the angular lines of his face, his already pronounced cheekbones and jaw were now almost razor sharp in his gauntness. He grimaced in his sleep and tightened his grip on Trixie's hand, making him glad he had not pulled away.

The dishes and laundry could wait but time to spend with Katya was ticking down at far too alarming a rate: his lips were blue constantly now, even with the steady supply of Oxygen flowing and a hospital bed had been unceremoniously plunked in the middle of the living room when it became too difficult for him to climb the stairs of their LA condo. At least it was a wider one generally meant for bariatric patients so they could both curl up together.

The apartment was a flood of colour, since both Hallowe'en and Christmas decorations vied for your attention. It was October 29th but they had decorated for Christmas early at Kat's insistence. "Trix, I don't want to miss what could be my last Christmas."

"You're not going to die Bri, they'll call, and a heart will come." Trixie reassured, but he was no longer sure if he was saying it for Katya or if he even believed it or it was just by muscle memory at this point.  Katya secretly hated when Trixie said this because he felt like it was setting Trixie up for the inevitable crash but he never said so. One of them had to hold on to hope and Trixie had enough hope for the both of them.

Dark thoughts milled about in Katya's manic brain and he no longer had the frenetic energy he used to use to distract himself so he now often found himself brooding. "I broke the traditions. I ruined my family. I destroyed my friends and it's entirely all my fault that they have to go through this. Trixie is entirely too good for me, he was right to run away from me, he would be better off if I had never called him for help.”

It had all happened right after Drag Race had been taped but not released yet. The cheque had cleared and Brian suddenly had money at his disposal. He had been racked with anxiety at how the editors would portray him. He worried that the fans would hate his constant nervous energy or make fun of his penchant for problematic patterns and quirky clothes.

He and Trixie had gotten close during the show. Well as close as two people could get when you were either being constantly monitored or had a camera in your face anyway. They talked every day after the taping, Trix seemed to sense that Katya was struggling and encouraged him to get out and always reminded him to eat and take his meds but he did it in such a caring way that it was endearing not overbearing.

As the date of the cast announcement loomed, Katya got more anxious and then depressed. When Trixie was away for a week, he slept too much and ate too little and didn't take his meds. He didn't know how he was going to make it through all the premiere and cast reveal parties. He felt the familiar itch of burning desire for just a little pick me up. Then he happened upon a man he knew when he was using and he thought he could just do it this once, he was in control now. He had a handle on it - on everything - he just needed a break.

He was wrong, of course. He didn't just fall off the wagon, got dragged along a gravel road for a few miles. He started with coke, and that first line  was like coming home. He got so much done, he cleaned his apartment and cranked out a few new outfits for premieres, mostly cat suits because they would be easy to pack and were easy to move and dance in.

Katya hated sneaking around when Trixie got back and they started their daily routine of video chatting, his using had quickly escalated back to meth and he hated that itching paranoia that would settle in his chest at the thought that Trixie was going to find out. Or worse, Fame. He started wearing his sunglasses inside when they chatted so Trixie couldn't see how blown out his eyes were, and he covered by saying he was having a hard time with migraines.

Trixie always asked, "hey, how's your head?"

"I dunno, ask Fame." Katya would joke and then scream-laugh. That joke would never get old to him and it obviously didn't in some little part of Trixie's heart because he always set the joke up and let out a little giggle while he shook his head.  Trixie would always sober, brows furrowed and pull his bottom lip between his teeth, "no seriously though, did you go to the doctor yet?"

"No, I'm sure it's just stress and once they release the cast list and start the show and I find out if people love me or hate me, things will go back to normal."

"Oh please! They are going to love you! I'm the loser with the polarizing makeup people love to hate who went home early, then came back and got booted again. I'm the one who couldn't out lipsync Pearl and her fucking robot zombie smash dance moves."

Katya snorted, "True."

The cast announcement parties came in like a whirlwind, blowing Katya and Trixie apart so they were often not even on the same continent. Katya knew things would change once the episode of her breaking down with Fame or any of the other times he talked about his past with addictions aired.

Right then, he was always being offered a little something at the back of clubs or in the bathrooms. He felt his chest tighten with panic that people were going to stop offering or worse, that they would tell. He tried to make connections with local dealers at cities that had several drag bars since he knew he could be booked for a few days in one spot.

Smoking became too conspicuous, he couldn't sneak out to the back alleyways at busy bars like he used to behind Jacques when he was relatively unknown, even locally. He would smoke a rock before leaving the hotel but after he did his makeup as his hands shook with adrenaline for the first 30 minutes or so which he always wrote off to others as nerves. But he didn't get nervous, that was the thing, performing was like a drug in and of itself but now that he had a steady supply coursing through his veins, the shine was wearing off of it.

Katya would stay at the venue as long as possible but coming down from meth was like running out of batteries, he would sometimes come to a dead stand still in the hotel lobby for a good five minutes trying to remember his room number or sometimes to even decipher it from the key card envelope. Sometimes he was paused long enough that a worried hotel employee would come over to make sure he was ok.

But the pain was the worst part, always. He managed to make the joke he was the sweatiest woman in show business so no one questioned him when he would start sweating so hard that it was like having a constantly sprinkling rain cloud over his head, but when it started to feel like his joints were being filled up with gravel and it hurt to even breathe, he had to bail.

That and the fact that meth smoke, well the good stuff, smelled like a mixture of cat piss and hospitals made it hard to hide, people always complimented him on his perfume since he was paranoid someone was going to pick up the scent. So he did something he always vowed not to do, even in his most blottoed days when he was chasing a high that seemed to take more and more drugs to achieve, he started injecting. He'd secret away in the bathroom or lock the dressing room door if he was alone, it wasn't as complicated as a lot of injectables, you didn't have to heat it up since that could destroy it. He just carried a bottle of water with him which no one would question and hid his needles in a old eyeshadow pallet case, one of the magnetic ones so it had enough room for his needles and a tourniquet, which he stuffed down deep in his makeup bag.

He generally wore long sleeved catsuits so he didn't have to worry if he DID end up bruising himself in his haste or because of the tremors. The first few times the high was so much more intense and he fumbled the needle and always had to try a few times to get a vein, now it had been a few months and he easily knew where to slide the needle in. Pulling back the syringe to find blood and know he was in a vein and his pain would soon be alleviated was a rush itself.

A few nights before the finale, he and Trixie were reunited and they admitted their feelings for each other. Katya's heart was hammering in his chest with the paranoia that Trix was going to find out what he'd been doing. He was so consumed with anxiety that when Trixie tried to give him a blowjob, he couldn't get it up. He apologized a thousand times but it made a mortified Trixie self conscious that since he admitted his affection first, that Katya was just too nice to turn him down. But that thought was wiped out of his brain along with any other thought when Katya put his magical mouth and hands to work to show just how sorry he was.

Later, Katya woke up covered in sweat and shaking, worried that his every move was going to wake up Trixie who was snuggled up against him. His breath was coming in tight little gasps, so he tried to hold it while he slipped off the bed, crawling across the floor and to the bathroom, dragging his drag bag with him, which felt like it was 5 times as heavy as it was a few hours ago as his muscles screamed at him. He managed to get in a bump and headed back to bed, now wide awake and heart thundering in his ears at the audacity he had to feel miserable while he had literally everything he could ever want.

He had an amazing fanbase he didn't deserve, the worst was the people that would come up and tell him their sobriety story or that Katya had inspired them to get help. He couldn't even look those people in the eye, he was so filled with shame but not enough to stop.

He had the ability to travel and make more money in one booking than he did in a month pre-dragrace. Now he "got the boy" but would he stay if he knew what a deplorable human being he really was? Probably not.

Then after the finale, Katya was tired and desperate and felt like he was going to fucking die, he got careless and forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. Him and Trix were just sharing a room and he still didn't know to this day why but Trixie decided to walk in without knocking. Maybe it was because he'd seen him naked so it wasn't a big deal, but Katya was currently sitting on the toilet with his head down, drug paraphernalia peppered along the room in his haste, a syringe still clutched in his balled up fist.

"Hey, sorry, I forgot to get my..." Trixie trailed off, turning completely white, still holding on to the doorknob with white knuckles. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth flopped open, the pleasant warm buzz from a few post-show drinks that he had been feeling vanished as his blood ran cold.

"Brian, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll stop. Please, I need help." Katya broke then, breaking down into sobs where no sound would come out. Trixie's arms itched to reach out and hold him but his heart was breaking and his brain was telling him to run far, far away. So he did.

"Damn you Bri!" He said in a whisper as his own tears fell. The broken whisper was like a slap in the face to Katya, who would have much prefered him to yell and scream and rail at him as opposed to the quiet disappointment and heartache that was thrown at him.

"Brian, pl..please st...stay!" Katya sobbed as Trixie took a step back and then another. He felt like someone was disemboweling him with a rusty spoon until he was hollow and dead inside. Trixie hesitated in the doorway before grabbing his wallet and walking out. Katya slid to the floor as he screamed after him until his voice was hoarse and security came to check if everything was ok after receiving several complaints from fellow patrons. When there was a knock on the door, Katya stumbled over himself in his haste to answer it, hoping beyond hope that it was Trixie. He felt even more hollow when he saw it wasn't.

Trixie came back to the room early the next morning after a sleepless night to find Katya and all his stuff gone. A shakily written apology was penned across the hotel stationary. Trixie wondered where he was and how long this had been going on.

Then Katya went missing, he just dropped off the face of the planet. Trixie had to field angry phone calls from Katya's manager for missed gigs. They all assumed that Katya was with him playing hookie while he was on vacation or that he knew where he was.

Trixie didn't sleep more than 30 minutes at a time or eat anything for five hellish days of waiting with his phone clutched in his hand.

Trixie started scouring the local hospitals and rehabs after the first 12 hours of calling him constantly and getting no response and with a sinking stomach about the third day in, he started looking at the obituaries for Boston and area online. Trixie hoped that Katya had checked himself in somewhere and just wasn't allowed his phone but you would think he would have gotten SOMEONE to call him to let him know that Katya was okay.

The call came in at 4:07 on the start of the 6th day, Trixie had just nodded off for a moment when the blaring of his phone ringing at full volume startled him awake.

At the beginning, there was only laboured breathing on the other end of the line from a number he didn't recognise.  "Who is this? I need to keep this line open so if you are just some pervert, hang the fuck up!"

He almost hung up when Katya breathed in a voice that sounded gravelly from misuse, "Trix?"

"Bri? Ohmigod! Where are you? Are you okay."

"Need help," he sputtered weakly.

"What do you need?" Trixie was already standing with his keys, stalking towards the door, heart beating so frantically it was like a small caged animal trying to fight it's way out of his chest. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

Katya made an unhh sound that Trixie took as a confirmation, "Where are you?"

There was a rustling of material and a few loud bangs and an abrasive and out of it sounding girl came on the phone, "What d'ya want?"

"Uh can I get the address so I can pick up Brian?"

"Who's Brian?"

Trixie heard Katya sleepily say "me."

"Oh yeah, you should pick him up, he's not looking so great." She said bluntly, Trixie wondered how high a person would have to be to have no filter like that.

"Okay then I need the damn address!" Trixie barked, trying to get the girl to focus as he yanked open his car door.

"You're not a narc, are you?"

"No! I'm not!!"

"Really? That's exactly what a narc would say. Brian," there was a rustle of fabric and Katya moaned, "BRIAN!" She screamed at him. "Is your friend a narc? BRIAN! BRIAN! Well, I'm gonna have to trust you aren't a narc, he fell asleep and I tried shaking him but it didn't help."

She let out a little giggle that set Trixie's hair on end and he was just about to lose it on her when she rattled off the address to a part of town he didn't know. He looked around frantically but only found a lipstick so he wrote the street number and name across his arm.

"Thanks, I'll be there as fast as I can, try to wake him up. I drive a silver jeep and my name is Brian too."

She laughed, "well that's funny! I can't wake him up, I tried shaking him but he's dead to the world. Did I tell you that? Ask for Ace. Lock your door." There was a click.

Trixie's hands shook as he put the address into his phone's GPS, and even though he didn't know the area he was going to but it said it was 30 minutes away. Trixie sped as quickly as he dared, it was a warm day but he couldn't get warm so he turned on the heat. The words "dead to the world" and "he doesn't look so great" chased each other around his head like overactive dogs. He slammed his hands into the wheel and cursed when traffic came to a dead stop. By this point, he was sobbing with worry and frustration and getting weird looks, which he didn't give a single fuck about. He put his head in his hands for a moment before a lady took pity on him and let him cross over to the offramp. He didn't stop, he just drove in what he thought was the general direction while his phone seemed to take forever to reroute.

Trixie tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to walk in on. He knew he was getting close, the buildings becoming more shabby then downright abandoned, windows boarded up or broken. Half clothed, dirty, shoeless kids wandering around.

He pulled up to the house, making sure to lock his doors. He basically ran up the hill to the door, adrenaline making his knock much more forceful than necessary, the door creaked open. He peeked in but saw no one, his panic level was rising.

"Hello?" He yelled tentatively into the house, taking a step inside and giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness. "Hello?" He took a step further in. The walls were filthy with the stains of tobacco and Lord-knows-what-else and Brian's stomach jolted at what looked like splatters of blood halfway up the wall. He continued along, stopping every two steps to yell out. There was shuffling but he didn't see anyone. He was just about to announce himself again when he heard a click behind him and turned to find a wiry white guy pointing a handgun at him. He momentarily forgot how to speak.

"Who the fuck are you?" The guy barked, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes darted around. "Are you a cop?"

Trixie slowly raised his hands out and cleared his throat, he felt like all moisture in his mouth had evaporated. "I'm not a cop."

The guy jostled the gun and snapped, "that's what a cop would say."

"Listen, I'm looking for Ace. Maybe I'm in the wrong place?"

"Oh you know Ace!" The guy exclaimed, returning his gun to the waistband of his stained grey track pants. "Sorry man, shit!" He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Don't tell her I pulled a gun on you! I'm Sam. C'Mon."

The house was like a beehive, there were nooks and crannies all along the way to wherever Sam was leading him, every once in a while they would pass by a person laying on a dilapidated couch, or a mattress in the middle of the floor. Trixie's heart would stop until he realised it wasn't Katya. He felt bad for them but quickly kept up with Sam.

Trixie was not as prepared for finding him as he hoped, it felt like a dropkick to the gut. He was sprawled out on his side on another dirty mattress that was covered in a threadbare sheet, a dark haired skinny girl laying beside him whom Sammy skirted around warily.

Katya was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard, he was a pale grey and covered in sweat. He was completely naked aside from a pair of brown stained tighty-whitey underwear. He had soiled himself and his face was inches from a puddle of vomit. He had bruises up his legs and angry red lines Trixie assumed were track marks going up his arms. He looked like he'd lost at least 20 pounds in the past 5 days.

Trixie crouched down, putting a hand on Kat's clammy shoulder. If he thought his heart was breaking when he walked in on him using, it was now ground to dust. "Bri?" He shook his shoulder slightly and said it louder. Katya didn't move, he let out a little moan, he was barely breathing in short, shallow little gasps with far to much time in between. He leaned right into Bri's ear and yelled his name, he didn't care if he woke up Ace. Let Sam be afraid of her.

She stirred at the jostling of the bed. "What the fuck is with the earthquake?" She opened one eye and sprang to sitting up so fast that Trixie fell backwards in surprise but quickly scrambled back up. "Hi Ace, I'm Brian, here to pick up this Brian, remember we spoke on the phone? How long has he been like this?"

"Oh yeah hi! I dunno, the past day or two." She said with a shrug.

Trixie pulled his phone out of his back pocket, "he needs an ambulance."

Ace shared an alarmed look with Sam, who was behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun against his neck, making his skin crawl, "sorry man, I can't let you do that. They'll bring the police." Sam apologized.

Trixie held up his hands and phone slowly, "take it," he breathed, "keep it, please just let me take him away with me."

Sam took it but grumbled indignantly, "I don't want your fucking phone man, I ain't no thief! I'll give it back to you at the door."

The cold metal was removed from the base of his neck but the goosebumps remained, now that he knew his head wasn't going to be blown off, he tried to rouse Katya one last time with no luck.

The first time he tried to pick up Katya, he didn't get very far. He was like handling a cold, shaking wet fish. Katya was not heavy in general but Trixie struggled with the dead weight and trying not to drop him. He managed to finally pick him up bridal style and moved as fast as he could after Sam. He had to stop twice to lean against the wall and readjust Bri's weight to get a better grip. His head flopped back sickly, letting out a crack at one point that made Trixie wince. He tried to move side to side til his head was no longer flopped straight back. Katya didn't stir at all, Trixie wasn't even sure he was breathing at this point but he couldn't do anything about it until they were out and away from the house. Sam stuck his head out the door and looked around, letting Trixie eek out past him, he tucked Trixie's phone in his denim shirt pocket. "Take care man, hope he's ok." Trixie got a few steps out of the door when Sam slammed it behind him, making him jump and almost drop his precious cargo. He heard the click of the door being locked and then Ace’s shrill voice screaming for Sam.

#trixya #hurt/comfort #angst #rpdr fic #rpdrxmasficexchange