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atths--twice · 4 years

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Scully spends her birthday alone, a decision she made, but then comes to regret. Memories of past birthdays are bittersweet as she misses Mulder.

Chapter Eleven

A Lonely Birthday

February 2015

Scully slept in on her birthday. If sleeping in until nine o’clock could be considered as such. She had no plans with anyone but herself, so there was no need to rush. She took her time taking a bath, fixing her hair, and dressing for the day.

She left her apartment, stopping at the coffee shop close by, grabbing a yogurt with granola and a coffee. She sat at a table outside, watching people walk by on their way to work, and little kids being toted around by their parents. It was a semi warm day and the sun felt wonderful as it shone down on her.

She sat until her coffee was gone, before rising and tossing her trash, continuing on her way. Her mother had asked if she wanted to do anything and she had politely turned her down. She did not feel like celebrating, not this year. Taking the day for herself, alone, and doing whatever she wanted, sounded great.

Her new place was close to many places in the city. Restaurants, boutiques, upscale hair and nail salons, pottery painting places, coffee, cupcake, and macaroon shops. She had yet to get out and explore, what with moving in and working more at the hospital, so today was her chance.

She went into the first boutique and browsed around for a bit. The clothes were cute, but not exactly her style. The salesgirl was very fashionable and her makeup was flawless. Scully felt frumpy next to her, although she had recently purchased her outfit. Even if it was the exact same as the salesgirls, she would still not look as hip as her. Scully smiled at her as she walked out of the store, feeling dreadfully out of place.

Two more stores and she found an incredibly soft navy cashmere sweater that she absolutely loved. She was tempted to wear it out of the store, but she had it wrapped instead. She also bought a dark green dress that she felt looked amazing on her. She purchased a pair of black heels that she knew were too expensive, but it was her goddamn birthday. They were beautiful and she loved the way she felt when she wore them.

She walked past the hair and nail salon, but then doubled back. She looked at her reflection in the window and made a decision. She entered the salon and asked if they would be able to see her. Fifteen minutes later she was in a chair, a glass of champagne in hand. The hairdresser came over and Scully told her what she would like done.

Two hours later, she was back outside, a manicure and pedicure done, and her hair six inches shorter. She felt lighter than she had in awhile. She loved her hair long, but felt she needed a change. Running her fingers through it, she smiled, the change feeling good.

A few more places, and she added a couple of more bags to her collection. Entering the last little shop, she left her bags at the register while she looked around. She picked up a few items to try on and headed to the changing room.

A man sat waiting for his wife or girlfriend, bags at his feet, his posture and demeanor tired. He glanced up at Scully and gave her a tired smile, before looking back at the changing room doors. She stopped in her tracks. His eyes were the same hazel as Mulder’s.

She made it inside the changing room, closing the door securely behind her, before covering her mouth and sliding down the wall, her items still in her hands. She cried, leaving her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound of her sobs. She could not keep her hand there for long though, needing to take in great gulps of air. She let the tears fall, as she instead held the clothes to her face, keeping her sounds as muffled as she could.

God, she missed him so much. Missed his smile and his eyes as they landed on her. She missed the feel of his arms around her at night, his voice in her ear telling her a joke, and then the rumble of his laughter as he laughed hardest at his own corny joke. She missed kissing him and the feel of his hands on her body.

She turned and lay on her side on the floor, not caring how dirty it was or worrying about her hair. She pulled the clothes closer to her and took deep breaths, her tears still falling, but her sobs subsiding somewhat. She could smell the scent of new clothes, and wished it was Mulder’s scent instead.

Minutes passed and she finally felt able to get up off the floor. She hung up the clothes and sat on the stool in the room, putting her face in her hands and collecting herself, taking calming breaths. Looking up at the clothes she had a death grip on, she knew she would not be able to try on nor buy any of those items. They would only make her think of this moment, and the utter sadness she felt laying on this floor.

She stood up, looked at her reflection in the mirror, and attempted to fix her makeup. She shook her head, knowing she would not be able to fix her puffy red eyes. Smoothing down her hair, she gathered up the hangers of clothes, and stepped outside the door, hanging the unwanted clothes on the rack provided. She walked up to the register and took back all of her shopping bags, leaving the store with her head down.

It was dark when she was back outside. She stopped for a second and thought about what she wanted to do. She said she wanted to be alone, but all of sudden she wanted nothing more than to have dinner with her mom. She shook her head, knowing her mom would be there if she asked, but knew she would be poor company when her mom arrived. Her mom had witnessed her tears enough, she did not need to see them again.

Scully stepped forward, deciding to stop and get a cupcake to take home for her own private celebration. The cupcake shop was not far nor too full when she arrived. She looked at the menu, and decided on a triple chocolate cupcake, and also a strawberry one with cream cheese frosting. They were packed up and she left the shop, walking back to her apartment.

Opening her front door, she set her bags down inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She took the cupcake container into the kitchen and put it on the counter. She walked back to the entryway and gathered up her bags, taking them into her room.

She changed into her pajamas, one of Mulder’s shirts she took possession of years ago- a maroon shirt with gray sleeves and shoulders. It was soft and comfortable and it made her think of his smile when he saw her wearing it. He had a hard time keeping his hands from sliding under the shirt when he was close to her because he knew when she wore it, he was going to get lucky.

She shuffled into the kitchen in a pair of her old cozy slippers, getting out a plate, a glass, and a fork. Opening the refrigerator, she took out the milk and poured it in the glass, putting it back before she sat down on a barstool at the counter. She opened the cupcake container and took out the chocolate one, putting it on her plate. She stared at it before standing up and looking through the drawers in the kitchen. She knew she did not have any birthday candles, but there were matches in one of the drawers.

Finding a book of matches, she stuck one in the frosting of the cupcake, making sure it stood up properly. Using a different match she lit it and then the one on the cupcake. She watched it burn for a second before she blew it out, no wish sent out this year. She sighed as her thoughts drifted to two years ago, the last time there had been a candle burning in a birthday dessert.

“Sorry, there is no reservation for a Fox Mulder,” the hostess said, checking one more time at the list of names on her sheet. She looked up at them and shook her head.

Scully felt the breath she was holding leave her body, defeat evident as she looked at Mulder. He looked so upset, his body sagged as he looked at her. His eyes begged her to understand and forgive him. She smiled slightly, putting her hand on his arm. He put his hand on her back and led her out the door.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he said, his hands in his pockets, as he shook his head. “It’s your birthday and I fucked it up.”

“Mulder, it’s just dinner. We can figure something else out,” she said, knowing what a big deal it was that they were even standing at the restaurant at all. She honestly thought they would not make it here until they actually did.

He had told her he had plans for her birthday, but recently he had missed plans and broken promises. The drive to the restaurant had seemed like the old them, joking and laughing, his hand in hers. He was so excited for these dinner plans, she knew how heartbroken he was that he had messed it up.

He sighed and she saw his breath on the night air. It was cold out and she shivered as they stood there. He glanced at her and he sighed again.

“It’s not okay, Scully. Look at you, you’re all dressed up, and you were expecting something nice and fancy for your birthday,” he said, waving a hand at her outfit.

She had gotten dressed up, hoping and expecting a nice place for dinner. She had pulled an old dress out of the closet that she had always liked and she knew Mulder did as well. He touched her more when she wore that dress, and she was trying to signal to him that she wanted that tonight.

She touched his arm again, sliding her hand down to his pants pocket, grabbing a hold of his and stepping close to him.

“We’ll think of something, Mulder,” she said, her fingers grazing his in his pocket. She saw his eyes widen and watched him swallow. She smiled slowly and he shook his head at her.

“You’re a tease,” he said in a voice she had not heard in awhile. The Mulder Sex Voice that she always saw in capital letters. It made her shiver and wet all at the same time.

“Only a tease if I don’t follow through,” she said quietly, in the voice she knew got to him. He exhaled and she felt his breath on her face. She smiled and stepped back, taking her hands off him.

“I’m hungry, Mulder,” she said and he raised his eyebrows. She laughed and stepped back further. “Food, Mulder. I need some food.”

He sighed and shook his head before he reached for her hand. He locked his fingers with hers and they walked down the street. She grabbed onto his arm as she squeezed his hand. God, it felt so good to be out, happy and laughing. No matter that it was cold out, being here with him, she felt like she could breathe again. Away from that goddamn office where he would disappear from her. This was so much better.

They walked a couple of blocks and he stopped in front of an all night diner. He looked at her and gestured with his head, raising his eyebrows. She nodded and smiled. He stepped inside and she followed.

The waitress told them to sit wherever they wanted and she would be right with them. He took Scully’s coat, hanging it on the coat rack, before taking off and hanging up his own. He led her to the table, his hand on her lower back, his fingers walking in place as he did. She shivered, her body responding again.

“I had no idea it was that dress, Scully,” he said, his eyes intense as they sat down and took their menus from the holder on the table. She smiled as she looked at her menu, knowing he was still watching her. She glanced up and he winked at her.

The waitress came up and Mulder announced they were celebrating Scully’s birthday. The waitress smiled at Scully and said congratulations before she took their order. They both asked for cheeseburgers and fries. Mulder said he would also like a chocolate milkshake with two straws. The waitress smiled and nodded, walking away to place their order.

They smiled at each other and she reached for his hand. He laid his across the table and she took his hand in hers. They begin to talk about random things. Stories from the past, people they had met and places they had been. He did an imitation of Bill’s disapproving stare and they both laughed.

Their burgers arrived and she went through about twenty napkins as she wiped her hands and mouth repeatedly. He ate his food with gusto, not caring how messy his face and hands were. She felt happy and light, something she had not felt in a while.

The waitress brought the milkshake and set it between them, a lit candle in the top of the whipped cream. No one sang, and Scully was glad of that, but as the candle sat in front of her, she closed her eyes and made a wish as she blew it out. A wish, a prayer, call it whatever, but she sent out a call to whoever was listening. A prayer for them, to be whole and together once again, the way they were before the darkness started creeping back in.

She met his eyes and he smiled sadly at her, as if he knew what she had been thinking. He had mustard on the corner of his mouth and she wiped it off with a laugh, attempting to get them back to happy once again. He pretended to bite at her fingers and she laughed again.

They shared the milkshake, though Mulder drank the majority of it. When they left, his hand once again went to get lower back, his fingers circling where her tattoo used to be. She had chosen to put the tattoo there years ago to reclaim the spot where he always put his hand. She had been so angry at him, she felt that she needed to do something to mark the moment she was in at the time. She had it removed not long after she got it, the serpent no longer representing how she felt.

He helped her with her coat, grabbed his own, and they headed outside. She reached for his hand as they walked to the car. She felt happy and if she was perfectly honest, she was also feeling horny. They had not had sex in a while and she missed it, missed him. His looks and touches through the night had made her feel tingly and so in the mood for him.

They arrived at the car, got in, and he began to head for home. She sat in the car and felt overcome with her desire for him. They were leaving the city when she knew she could not take it much longer. She reached over and put her hand on his thigh, making him jump in surprise. He looked over at her and she smiled as she bit her lip. He inhaled and she brought her hand up a little higher.

She ran her fingers over his crotch and he swerved a little on the road. She giggled and he swore, telling her to watch what she was doing. She looked at him and did it once more before telling him to pull over now.

“Scully, we’re almost home,” he said, his hand covering hers as she squeezed his dick. He was getting hard and she was definitely ready for him. She squeezed once more and he pulled over quickly, turning off the car.

No one was on the road as she unbuckled her seatbelt and moved around, climbing into his lap. He grabbed her and held her steady as she dropped her mouth to his, her tongue diving right in. His hands went to her hair and she moaned in his mouth.

She pulled back and took her coat off, getting tangled for a second and cursing while he laughed. He helped her figure it out and his hands moved to her ass as she held his face, kissing him once again. His hands moved under her dress and he broke from her kiss.

“Scully,” he said, his voice dangerously low and making her physically throb. “Where ... where is your underwear?”

He groaned as his hands trailed over her naked ass and down to her center, making her cry out. She moved her hands from his face and down to his waistband. They had not had sex in awhile, this was true, but having sex in the car had been even longer.

She got his pants open and he got them down far enough to allow her to slide down his length. They both moaned and her head fell back, the feel of him inside her was invigorating. She licked her lips and then leaned forward, her hands going to his shoulders.

He leaned the seat back somehow while still keeping a hold on her. She cried out in surprise, falling forward and then raising up, putting her hands on his chest. She began to ride him, breathing his name. God, it was exquisite. He felt so good inside her, something she had not felt for some time.

He chanted her name, his hands on her hips, helping her move in their confined space. She was close already and knew it would not take long. She went faster, her nails digging into his chest. He put a hand on her inner thigh, then moved his fingers to her center again. His thumb found her clit and she cried out as he touched her while she continued her pace.

“I’m so close, Scully,” he whispered in a strangled voice. “I can feel that you are too. God, you’re so wet and you feel so good. Come, Scully.”

And she did. Convulsing around him, her nails pushing in harder, she heard him cry out and then felt him come inside her. She rode him slower as they came down from their release. Their breath had fogged up the windows and outside it was very dark, good for covering up the naughty act that just took place in their car.

She collapsed against his chest, his hands coming to rest on her back as they lay together, their hearts pounding and bodies sweating. Dear god, she had needed that, she thought. Needed to feel him in every way and be with him again.

His heart was racing and she smiled as she listened to it. His hands traveled up and down her back as he breathily whispered her name. One hand went to her head and his short nails scratched at her scalp and she moaned. He laughed and she raised her head.

He smiled at her as he looked in her eyes. “I hope you don’t think that this constitutes as a birthday gift. I expect to find some kind of actual gift, wrapped and waiting for me at home,” she said, a playful look on her face. He laughed again, and pulled her in for a kiss.

She climbed off him soon after, carefully sitting on her dress, as her underwear was not available to be worn at the moment. He adjusted his seat and his clothing before heading for home. He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers when he held it.

They pulled up to the house a couple of minutes later, and he turned off the car, letting go of her hand so he could get out. He had not been wrong, they were not far from home, but she had to have him, the need too overwhelming to wait even a couple more miles.

She opened her door and shivered, her jacket having been tossed somewhere out of reach. She walked quickly into the house and then the bathroom, cleaning up the stickiness left behind from their fun in the car.

She came out and he was hanging up their coats. She walked over to her coat and took her underwear from a pocket where she had stashed it earlier after a trip to the bathroom before they left the diner. He watched her and he made a noise she had never heard, before he took her underwear and put them in his pants pocket.

She grinned and opened the presents he brought out to her. The child’s doctor kit he gave her, being used in a more sexual way than it had been intended, soon had them both hot and needing to have each other again. Her exam of him was thorough, making him moan. Unable to take it anymore, he grabbed her and pulled her to the floor, laughing but also making her heart race.

The cold floor was welcome on her warm body, as was the weight of the man on top of her. His back was slick with sweat, as she ran her fingers up and down, their bodies sated and still humming. He lifted his head and looked at her.

“Happy birthday, Scully,” he whispered, kissing her softly, as she wrapped her legs tighter around him, keeping him close.

He put his head back onto her neck, licking at the sweat that had formed there. She moaned and closed her eyes before he kissed her neck, and then lay still.

She ran her fingers into his hair, her eyes feeling heavy. She knew this was not the optimal place to fall asleep, but she felt if they moved, the spell would break and the power from the office would call to him. She would suffer a lumpy feeling sore back if it meant staying with him this way, feeling his body on hers.

Tonight, you did not win, she thought, looking at the office and feeling a sense of power, before sleep took hold and she held tight to the man she loved.

Tears were running down her face at the bittersweet memory. Bittersweet then and even more so now. That night when he had stayed with her and not gone into the office had been happy and wonderful. But it did not last and here she was, in a rather sterile apartment, celebrating her birthday on her own because they could not get their shit together.

She shook her head and put her cupcake back in the container, the thought of eating it now made her stomach feel sick. She put the container in the refrigerator, dumped out her glass of milk in the sink, adding the fork and plate, before turning the lights off, and going into her room. She pushed her bags out of the way where they sat on the floor and laid down on her side on the bed. She grabbed a pillow and held it close to her, closing her eyes, feeling alone and incredibly sad.

She fell asleep, her dreams peaceful despite her sadness. She dreamt of Mulder’s laugh, the way his skin smelled after a run, the touch of his hand, the feel of his fingers running through her hair, and the taste of his kiss and how dizzy it could make her. But mostly, she dreamt of his eyes. Eyes that calmed her, could speak to her above the roar of a crowded room, and where his love for her could always be found, shining out like a light guiding a ship to safety.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Lonely #Sadness #Bittersweet memories #Missing the one she loves #Ache and sadness

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weirdstuff-blog · 4 years

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Me and stephanie dancing up Christian

"ROB SIMS presents KellyMBentley.Com in 2008! "

Female 26 years old ATLANTA, Georgia United States

Last Login: 4/13/2008

I love models and everything to do with the glamour industry. I am seriously into photography. I love to dance and I am currently learning to sing. I am crazy in love with my American Pitt Bull Terrier "Layla" and I love spending time with her playing freesbee with her and my loving fiance Django. I love fast cars preferrably American Muscle. My favorite would be a Trans Am. Long live Cassondra

Music I love all types of music, but my favorite is Classic Rock including the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Doors, Def Lepard, AC/DC, Primus, Nine Inch Nail all kinds of artists. I love dancing to hip-hop, but I really don’t have any favorites.

Movies I love chic flicks and cartoons. I’ve never really been a fan of horror flicks. My favs include Notebook, Ratatouille, Sweet Home Alabama, Youve Got Mail…you get where this is going.

Television I love reality shows. I was on the Coyote Ugly Reality Show but I hated it. My favorites shows include Pussycat dolls, ANTM, Ghost Hunters, Dirty Jobs, Rock of Love, Make me a Supermodel….well all of them except American Idol…hate that shit!!

Books I dont read anything but war books and Cosmopolitian magazine. Oh yea and the Bible of course. Heroes All of our American Military men and women especially those close to me….Andrew Goldman, Jason Edmondson, Chris Willis, and my sweet uncle Kurt. Love and appreciate you guys. If you have a friend or relative serving I send me their name and I will post it here to show my appreciation.

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Details

Status: In a Relationship Here for: Networking, Friends Orientation: Straight Hometown: Alabama Body type: Slim / Slender Ethnicity: White / Caucasian Zodiac Sign: Libra Smoke / Drink: No / No Education: College graduate Occupation: Model

The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Schools Southern Union State Community College Wadley, AL Graduated: 2002 Student status: Alumni Degree: Associate’s Degree Major: Computer Science

2000 to 2002

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M Bentley Productions Atlanta, Georgia US

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Coyote Ugly Episode 5…Thank God its Over! (view more)

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The Kelly M. Bentley ‘s Blurbs About me: Its hard to describe myself because I am constantly changing. So to start, above all else, I am a bad ass bartender. I bartend at OPERA Nightclub here in Atlanta, Geogia. Its the biggest and hottest club in Atlanta. I also bartend at the Irish Bred Carrollton where I can fulfill my bar dancing passion to AC/DC, Buckcherry (Crazy biotch!), and Def Lepard. I love serving up cocktails with a little sassy shake some come by either place and check me out!!

Second, I am a model and one of the hottest female entrepreneurs on this planet. In modeling, I specialize in glamour, fitness, and promotional modeling. I always have something going on somewhere. I’m partnering up with NOPI as a NOPI CHIC for 2008. I love doing charity work so keep updated on my events and help us out. As an entrepreneur, I own half of a calendar production company with JM Polsfuss that is responsible for the hottest calendar coming out in 2009 Construction Cuties. Watch for it!! I also just teamed up with get this…yes…The Rob Sims….which we will have my website launched by the end of Spring to help heat up the summer for you. Also watch for all the magazine covers, layouts, spreads, etc. coming soon…I told you guys I’ll be taking over the WORLD!! Lastly, I am a regular girl that had a dream and am still forcing it to come true come hell or high water. I’m from a small town, but I’m working hard to fulfill my big city dreams as well as those of other girls who want to be models with MODELICIOUS. So if you want to try modeling, don’t listen to people when they tell you that you cant do it, they said I couldn’t, and I look at me…so don’t listen, contact me and lets see what we can do. I DONT DO ANYTHING FOR FREE….so don’t ask. I have a small network of professional models I use and promote because they have become friends. Don’t ask for my contacts, because I work hard in promoting and networking myself so why should I just hand over my hard work to you. If you want my network, you pay for my network.

THINGS YOU WOULDN’T GUESS ABOUT ME: No one would ever guess that I used to be in the Army National Guard. I used to be on Active Reserve as the RA for SFC Robert Cornett. I got out in 2005. I also used to wiegh 170 lbs. I gained a huge amount of weight when I quit drinking and smoking. Yea a lot of you thought it would never happen. I quit cold turkey and the turkey went to my ass. I lost 50 lbs. on the Subway diet. I was recently on the Coyote Ugly Reality Show on CMT and hated every minute. I also have a degree in Political Science and Computer Science with a minor in Military Science. Just some cool quirks about me. TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF – The Survey Name: Kelly M Bentley Birthday: October 7th Birthplace: Anniston, Alabama Current Location: Atlanta, Georgia Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Blonde/Brunette..hell I don’t know Height: 5’5" if I’d stand up straight Right Handed or Left Handed: Right Your Heritage: Irish/German &..39;The Shoes You Wore Today:’ My beloved flip flops Your Weakness: Your Fears: airplanes, elevators, and scurrying vermon Your Perfect Pizza: cheese/pepperoni without any sauce Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Be at 8% Body Fat by the end of the year Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: I dont even know how to set that shit up… Thoughts First Waking Up: What in the hell are the Backyardigans? Your Best Physical Feature: My big ghetto booty Your Bedtime: When ever my mind decides to quit thinking Your Most Missed Memory: No clue..too much memory lost Pepsi or Coke: Caffeine free coke MacDonalds or Burger King: both are some nasty shit…I dont put it in my body! Single or Group Dates: Cant remember my last date… Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: I don’t drink any tea Chocolate or Vanilla: Just hand over the chocolate and no one gets hurt Cappuccino or Coffee: Caffeine free Coffee Do you Smoke: hell no Do you Swear: I swear I cuss too much Do you Sing: Did you catch my show? Think I’ll stick to the shower. Do you Shower Daily: more than once Have you Been in Love: Only twice for sure Do you want to go to College: Been there done that Do you want to get Married: Umm….when I’m too old to know better Do you belive in yourself: more than anyother person besides Roy Do you get Motion Sickness: Do you think you are Attractive: No but others tend to disagree Are you a Health Freak: Absolutely Do you get along with your Parents: depends on the day of the week Do you like Thunderstorms: love them Do you play an Instrument: In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: don’t drink alcohol In the past month have you Smoked: I quit when I was 20 In the past month have you been on Drugs: hell no drugs are for weak people In the past month have you gone on a Date: I havent gone on a date in the past few years In the past month have you gone to a Mall: No..I hate the mall..I’m in need of another personal shopper In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: yea right…my trainer would shoot me In the past month have you eaten Sushi: I don’t eat fish In the past month have you been on Stage: too many times In the past month have you been Dumped: No In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: I wish In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No but someone stole two of my damned portfolios Ever been Drunk: Plastered on many occassions Ever been called a Tease: What girl hasnt Ever been Beaten up: No but I got launched off some steps one time Ever Shoplifted: no I only steal hearts How do you want to Die: at 200mph on the Autobahn What do you want to be when you Grow Up: I’m doing it but not grown up yet What country would you most like to Visit: Ireland In a Boy/Girl.. Favourite Eye Color: Any that don’t lie Favourite Hair Color: any that I can run my fingers through Short or Long Hair: either Height: all heights Weight: weight doesn’t matter Best Clothing Style: clothes dont make the man Number of Drugs I have taken: Don’t do drugs Number of CDs I own: not too many Number of Piercings: ears and belly button Number of Tattoos: 1 Number of things in my Past I Regret: only 1…if you know me you know what it is

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Posted by dcsmith2752002 on 2008-06-23 13:19:11

Tagged: , KELLY , M , BENTLEY , IN , ATLANTA , GA , NIGHT , LIFE , BASIC , BLACK , FORMAL-WEAR , AND , CASUAL , -WEAR , ATTIRES

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conservativetradlife · 5 years

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😘 🎁 🎵

😘 Oh man you definitely found something that could have me going for hours haha. Lets start with the basics. My boyfriend’s name is Shawn and we’ve been together for a year. This guy, oh boy. Thinking about him gets me all aflutter. I used to be a cashier in a grocery store and he works in the General Merchandise section of that store, and I gravitated to him really gradually and then all at once (John Green anyone?) We were passing each other on the stairs and I noticed he had his hair cut and I made a comment. He’s got these big brown eyes, and usually looks really stern, but when I complimented him, he looked so surprised. Like no one had ever said something nice to him before. I remember this feeling, like a stone falling in water in my gut. Like ice water up my spine and my head felt kind of fuzzy and I was like “Holy skit, this guy is something special” and kind of walked back to my cash in a daze. This was in the March and it wasn’t until the June that we started seriously talking about being together. Now my boyfriend had a really bad time in his past with girlfriends and was still padding the wounds when we got together. The first few months were really hard. I won’t go into deep details, but my daughters father and I were together for 10 years and sort of grew apart. We amicably decided to break up, still best friends, but continue living together for our daughter, and I found a rebound. That rebound proved to be a total pain in the neck for well over six months (this involved the police and everything, thinking about it makes me cringe) and it was Shawn that put an end to him being in my life, and I will be grateful to him for that for the rest of my life. I was in a bad way, and he absolutely saved me. I didn’t think that I could ever feel so strongly about someone in my life in a romantic sense. You get a kind of hopelessness in your early twenties that if you don’t get married right away you’re going to be alone forever, and that ‘zing’ if it hasn’t happened yet, won’t happen at all. I went from being someone with extremely low self esteem, high anxiety and general crap, to someone who really looks at life entirely differently because of him. I used to think that many relationships made me happy (non-monogamy) that if I found someone, ANYONE who made me feel anything was worth hanging onto (pansexuality) and that no matter how bad the treatment I was willing to put up with anything because it was better than being alone (BDSM.) Shawn has shown me so much love, he’s shown me how beautiful I am, even with all my flaws, he’s proven to be an amazing step-dad to my daughter, and a life partner I can’t picture my future without. I am a red blooded, straight, religious monogamous person now, and I thank god every day for him. I really truly love him. There are so many more, but the physical doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s just all in all a beautiful person, I can’t believe I am so lucky to have him.

(I want to add really quickly, that my daughters father wasn’t involved in the darker things of my life. He is my best friend, and we all still live together. He and Shawn get along really well, and he’s an amazing Dad to our daughter. It was an all around garbage situation, but we work out better as friends.)

🎁 Good music!! I love a good bop every now and then, and I have an eclectic music taste, so I can pretty much listen to anything and not mind it. Now obviously I made my Traditional Housewives Cleaning Playlist, but that’s only a part of what I love to listen to. No matter what kind of mood I’m in, I can usually find it quickly dissolve into something resembling my normally bubbly personality when I have the opportunity to listen to something that gets me moving. A few examples that get me dancing: 1 / 2 / 3

🎵 Oof, I hadn’t realized that this question was going to be directly related to the current one, haha. I need to pay more attention. Alright, so current songs that have been on my mind lately. Recently, I’ve been really loving Miley Cyrus’ “On A Roll” which is a remake of “Head Like a Hole” by Nine Inch Nails. My boyfriend loves NIN, so me singing this every now and then doesn’t bother him too much. I really love “Prom Queen” by Beach Bunny and ‘Wait a Minute’ by Willow, I just really love semi-indie sounding music but that’s really what I’ve been in the middle of listening to nowadays, but ask me again later :P

Thank-you for these questions and sorry for the book, haha!! 💕

#conservativetradlife #answers #anonymous

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kvhottie · 6 years

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Last Stop

For: @yankasmiles

Pairing: TsukkiYama

Word Count: 3.4K

Rating: G, with absolutely no triggers

Summary: Tsukishima’s commute to and from work used to be boring. But recently a man who always rode until the last stop of his night bus captured his attention. Dressed mostly in black and heavily pierced, the man was beautiful—and Tsukishima was falling for him.

*Alternatively, a punkguchi and preppyshima adult au with lots of christmas romanticism.

Read on Ao3

It was the same routine every day: wake up at six, get to work at eight, leave at seven, and make it back home at nine. Nothing really changed aside from Tsukishima’s day-to-day attempts to vary his lunches and…him.

He was a mystery—a man also in his early twenties who was always in Tsukishima’s night bus. Part of Tsukishima’s commute was a forty-five minute bus ride from the train station to his apartment complex in the boondocks. Every weekday he got off in the second to last stop, leaving this man to ride alone to the last one. Tsukishima didn’t know for how long they had been taking the same bus since he had a habit of putting on his pink headphones and sticking his nose in a book to block out the world. But about three months ago, when he got to a good place to pause in his book, he decided to look outside from his window seat on the bus, but instead of the snow covering everything in white, his eyes caught that man's reflection from across the aisle. He was...different.

With long mossy-brown hair that hit his shoulders and was styled half-up half-down to expose the many piercings in his ears, an affinity to the color black, and a spiky leather jacket—he drew a lot of attention, Tsukishima's included. But he paid no mind to the eyes burying into him. He simply leaned against the window with his earbuds on and trained his eyes on his phone screen for the duration of the ride. Not that Tsukishima would watch him for the whole forty-five minutes! He'd just peek over occasionally, when the scene in his book allowed him a breath, and took note of small details regarding this man. His hands were long and delicate, nails rounded into an almond shape and always painted black. He liked to stack rings on his fingers, and would mix and match different types of black and silver bands. Sometimes his mouth would break into a smile while staring at his phone, and soon after a sweet, muffled laugh would follow. Tan freckles dusted his nose and cheeks and they were beautiful—he was beautiful. Today, though he was still wearing his iconic leather jacket, he had also donned a burgundy beanie and a big black scarf. It was the middle of December after all, at one point he had to get cold. The fact that it took him this long baffled Tsukishima, who had already busted out his scarf and extra layers back in November. Just looking at him made Tsukishima shiver, and he sunk deeper into his light blue knit scarf and thick camel coat. He set his book to the side and rested his head on the window; his coworkers had dragged him out of work early to get drinks and he was tired from all the forced social interaction and the alcohol. There was still a long way until his stop so closing his eyes for a little bit…wouldn't…hurt. “...Hey. Hey.” Tsukishima felt a hand softly shake his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes and found round brown ones staring at him. It took him a few seconds to recognize the owner of those lovely eyes, but the moment he did, he sat up with a jolt. “Uh—” “I was afraid you’d miss your stop.” The man gave him warm smile. His freckles looked even more charming when sitting on top of his smiling lips. “It was a shame to wake you when you’d been sleeping so peacefully, but your stop is coming up.” “Yeah.” Tsukishima nodded, a bit speechless from the sudden interaction. “Thanks.” “No problem…” The man looked like he wanted to say something else, but at that moment the bus halted and the bus driver announced his stop. Tsukishima hurriedly grabbed his bag and shuffled out of his seat, giving the man yet another awkward nod before leaving the bus. And all the while walking to his apartment building, opening his door, and taking off his shoes, he thought about how dumb he must have looked during the interaction. He decided the best way to repair that horrible first impression was to thank him again on Monday, this time with more than one word. Tsukishima reached inside his bag for his phone and the book he was trying to work through before falling asleep on the bus. He found his phone, but after thoroughly looking through his bag a realization struck him: he forgot the book on the damn bus. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath. Now, most people’s only concern with leaving a book behind on the bus is a bit of sadness that it might be lost forever. For Tsukishima the former didn’t bother him at all, he could just get another copy from his workplace. What did concern him was that the man might have noticed that Tsukishima left his book behind and looked inside to see what he was reading. Because what he was currently reading, well, truthfully, what he was almost always reading was a very sappy and romantic shoujo manga. Tsukishima started liking shojou manga when he was in college. Growing up he had read shounen like every other boy, but soon got bored of the seemingly repetitive plots. He chalked it up to having “outgrown” manga in general and moved on to novels. But one day while aimless browsing the library shelves, he picked up the first volume of Lovely Complex, and that was the start of his secret obsession. When he graduated college he applied to many office jobs, one of them being the editorial department of his favorite manga company, Shogakukan. Though the hiring manager apologized that their only editorial position was in the department responsible for making Ciao, one of the most popular shoujo manga magazines in Japan, Tsukishima quietly thanked the gods and accepted the position. Only his family and closest friends knew of his love for shojou—and that’s solely because it was going to be more trouble hiding it from them than just being honest. And he didn’t tell his coworkers outright, but they were slowly getting the sense that despite Tsukishima’s indifferent expression, he actually enjoyed working in their department. Tsukishima wasn’t necessarily ashamed of it, but he did feel self-conscious of being a grown twenty-two year old guy reading shojou. He didn’t want people judging him solely based on his hobby. So he always put a book sleeve on his manga when he read them outside. Except a freaking book sleeve was not going to stop that guy from looking inside and finding out he was reading shoujo. The same guy Tsukishima was trying to save face with by thanking him again for his good deed (and who he found highly attractive). Just his fucking luck. But…maybe he didn’t look inside. Maybe he didn’t even notice Tsukishima dropped the book and the proof of his shame was lost forever. This stubbornly positive thought was the only thing helping Tsukishima get through the weekend and Monday work hours without growing more and more mortified. When it came time to ride the bus, he sat in his usual seat and hyper-vigilantly watched the door. Once they reached the stop that the man usually boarded the bus on, Tsukishima held his breath to see where the man would sit. The man saw him, gave him a tiny smile, and sat right next to him. Tsukishima had never wanted so badly to have the power to dissolve into the seat and disappear from this earth. “Hello.” “Hey.” “Um, you dropped your book last time.” The man opened his pin covered messenger bag and took out Tsukishima’s book, handing it to him. “Here you go.” Tsukishima took the book and held it in his lap. “Thank you, uh, for this and for waking me up last time.” He stared down at the pale green book sleeve and rubbed his finger against the soft surface. The man turned a bit toward him and cleared his throat. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi…I noticed we’re always on the night bus together. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” Tsukishima looked up and met the man—Yamaguchi’s—gaze for the first time. It was curious and incredibly warm. “I’m Tsukishima Kei.” He also had wanted to talk to him for a long time, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. “Tsukishima, huh.” Yamaguchi grinned to himself. “…” Tsukishima simply stared at him. He was never really good at talking to strangers and was a bit star struck by how close Yamaguchi was sitting. Every detailed he had noticed from across the bus these weeks prior were just a few inches away, calling to him. “So, I know it was rude of me, but I took a peek inside.” Yamaguchi furrowed his eyebrows and put his hands together apologetically. “Sorry, curiosity got the best of me.” Tsukishima sighed, shrugging a bit. “What did you think? It’s weird that someone like me is reading shoujo, isn’t it?” “What? No, actually—” Yamaguchi paused, biting his lip and tucking hair behind his ear as he lowered his gaze. “I think it suits you well.” “You’re the first person to say that,” Tsukishima muttered and laughed through his nose. “I like it too, you know.” “What? Shoujo?” “Yeah.” Yamaguchi pulled out his phone and tapped a video streaming app. “You probably won’t believe me but I was in the middle of watching the first season of the series you are reading. Kimi ni Todoke, right?” Yamaguchi showed Tsukishima his progress. Tsukishima looked down at the phone and then up at Yamaguchi again. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?” “Well, because…” Yamaguchi shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket. “Forget it, it’s dumb.” They were silent for a while. Tsukishima stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked through the window at the trees, rice fields, and tiny houses they were passing by. He could feel Yamaguchi staring at him so he turned around again, and gave him his attention. Yamauchi tugged at the rips in his black jeans. “How long have you liked it?” “Since college.” Tsukishima thumbed through the pages of the book in his lap. “But I actually work for a shoujo manga magazine, so I’m always reading it now.” Yamaguchi’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s awesome! Editorial department?” “Yeah…” Tsukishima looked at him suspiciously. “Did you guess that because of the glasses?” Yamaguchi chuckled and stuck out his tongue. “Pretty much.” God damn, he was so endearing. Tsukishima hoped he wasn't being obvious in his ogling. What was he even supposed to do now? He should probably ask him about himself since so far Yamaguchi was the only one doing the asking. Yeah, he’d do that. “What about you? What do you do?” Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Eh, on the weekdays I’m a gallery assistant. And on some weekends I’m in an amateur rock band that plays in coffee houses and clubs, places like that.” “Oh…that makes sense.” “You mean the whole punk look?” Yamaguchi smirked. “Yeah, that started before the band thing.” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses and looked down at his book again. His heart couldn’t take much more of this guy smiling at him. “What do you play?” “I play some guitar, but I’m mostly their vocalist.” “That’s cool.” Tsukishima couldn’t help but think that he wanted to hear what Yamaguchi sounded like. Not that he would tell him that. “You should come hear us play.” Yamaguchi sifted through his bag again and took out a leaflet. “If you’re not doing anything on Christmas Eve, we’re having an event at the café in the station.” Tsukishima looked at the leaflet, slid it into his book, and put the book away in his bag. His stop was coming up so Yamaguchi got out of his seat to let him by. “I’ll come,” Tsukishima replied. “You will?” “Sure.” Tsukishima shrugged, “I have nothing to do on that day anyhow,” and gave him a quick wave as he stepped off the bus. His usual walk home felt strangely warm. They sat together everyday until the night of the Christmas Eve event. Often they would talk about what happened at work that day, or current things they were in charge of. There were times Yamaguchi would convince Tsukishima to watch the first episode of the anime version of a shoujo manga they had both read. In those moments Yamaguchi would offer an ear bud, and Tsukishima would lean close, touching shoulders, to watch from Yamaguchi’s phone screen. But he wasn’t really paying attention—his mind was busy making note of the sweet scent of Yamaguchi’s cologne and musical note to his laughter. Sometimes Yamaguchi would sit there listening to his music while Tsukishima read whatever manga he was currently enjoying. If the workday had been a tough one, Tsukishima would wake up on Yamaguchi’s shoulder, having fallen asleep without noticing. He’d give a short apology, ears turning red from embarrassment, and Yamaguchi would shake his head with a soft smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve also done it.” He’d reply. And it was true, there was one time he had fallen asleep on Tsukishima’s shoulder. They were watching a video on Yamaguchi’s phone and Tsukishima felt a weight on his shoulder. He didn’t mind; having Yamaguchi this close to him was comfortable. He paused the video and stared at the back of the seat in front of them, listening to Yamaguchi’s soft breath and thinking about how hard he was falling for him.

Tsukishima felt very out of place in this Christmas event. The café was mostly filled with other people that had an affinity to black or had an actual interest in the kind of music that was blaring from the stage. Tsukishima was neither. He sat in a table all the way to the left, with his favorite lilac cardigan and a white button up, and a completely disinterested face. It wasn’t that the music was necessarily displeasing, it was just the sole purpose for him coming to this thing was to see Yamaguchi. So he was going to be grouchy until he did. Luckily, Tsukishima didn’t have to wait much longer. Yamaguchi’s band, Harken Spear, was the main act and there had only been two opening acts before they took the stage. Yamaguchi walked to the microphone and addressed the cheering crowd while his band members settled into their instruments. He had a messy bun, perfectly winged eyeliner, and was wearing a grey distressed muscle tee, a plaid long sleeve around his waist, and tight black skinny jeans. He looked so good—he always did— but even more so up on that stage. With the microphone by his lips and all the eyes on him, he was radiating. The first song was upbeat and loud, but even with all the things that would usually distract Tsukishima, he was completely focused on Yamaguchi’s voice. It was a bit scratchy yet also smooth and alluring. It had the perfect balance of roughness and charm, with great countertenor to baritone range. And it wasn’t only his voice, the way he worked the microphone and moved around the stage was enrapturing. The crowd sang along passionately to every song. And Tsukishima continued to sit there with his eyes trained on Yamaguchi, hands sweating, and heartbeat louder than the band’s drums. Harken Spear ended the night with a mellow song heavy on vocals and soft on drums and guitar. It used the wide range of Yamaguchi’s wonderful voice and was easily Tsukishima’s favorite of the night. As the song reached its end, the soft drums and guitar still playing in the background, Yamaguchi spoke to the audience. “This was dedicated to that magical chance encounter you may have had this year or will hopefully have next year.” Yamaguchi glanced towards Tsukishima’s direction and gave him a wicked smile. “Merry Christmas.” Did he look directly at him? It was possible that he was just imagining what he wanted to have happened. But if it really was directed at him then that could mean… Tsukishima spent the next twenty minutes with these thoughts whirling in his head. “Hi.” Yamaguchi said as he walked to Tsukishima’s table. “Thanks for coming.” Tsukishima snapped out of it, looking around him to see that most of the café had emptied out while he was having his internal crisis. “No problem…” Tsukishima put on his coat and scarf, standing up to talk to Yamaguchi face-to-face. “You were really good,” he admitted. Yamaguchi’s face went red and he quickly looked down at his shoes to hide his expression. “Thank you…I’m really happy you think that.” Yamaguchi was unbearably cute like this—he was increasingly more precious with every expression and action he made. Tsukishima wished he could lower his pride for two seconds to tell him so. But instead he only pushed these feelings further down his throat and checked his watch. “The last bus should be coming soon.” “Oh.” Yamaguchi looked up again, his blush faint but persistent. “I’m also heading home. Do you want to walk there together?” “Yeah.” Tsukishima stuffed his hands in his coat. “I do.” Yamaguchi grinned. “Okay. Let’s go.” The café was in the opposite side of the station than the bus stop so they had quite a bit to walk. They talked about their plans for tomorrow, and it pretty much consisted of food and family for the both of them. Yamaguchi led them diagonally across the station, but took an efficient but often-unused walkway running on the outside left wall off the station. It had an overhead covering but the piling snow blew about around them. Tsukishima burrowed further into his scarf. “You know we could have kept walking inside, right?” “I do,” Yamaguchi replied and stopped walking. Tsukishima also stopped, somewhat miserable but also curious as to why Yamaguchi was biting his lip and taping his leg so nervously.“…” “Uh, um.” Yamaguchi took a step closer to Tsukishima and retrieved a small rectangular gift from his bag. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks but this is for you.” “Huh?” Tsukishima looked down at the gift. “But I have nothing for you.” Yamaguchi shook his head. “It’s fine. Please open it.” “Okay.” Tsukishima carefully unwrapped the box, hands shaking from the cold and his own nerves, and opened it to reveal a pair of light blue gloves. “They match your scarf. It was surprisingly hard to find the exact shade but I hope they are close enough.” Yamaguchi took another step closer. “There’s one more thing—” “—I like you,” Tsukishima muttered and then shortly realized what had come out of his mouth. He snapped his head up, face and ears burning red. “I-I mean, what I meant was I like the gloves,” he clumsily tried to correct himself. “I can’t believe you beat me to it,” Yamaguchi laughed, face burning up with equal intensity to Tsukishima’s. “I also like you—I mean, the gloves.” “That smug look makes me want to take it back,” Tsukishima grumbled, eyebrows furrowed. “Please don't,” Yamaguchi whispered, gaze locked to Tsukishima’s. Tsukishima glanced around them and returned his gaze to Yamaguchi’s face, eyes unconsciously traveling to his lips. “…Can I kiss you?” He had wanted to for so long. Yamaguchi nodded, reaching for Tsukishima’s free hand. It was icy, but warmed up quickly when intertwined with Yamaguchi’s warm one. Tsukishima leaned forward to gently press their lips together for a few moments; Yamaguchi’s lips were incredibly soft, and felt good on his own. Yamaguchi placed his other hand on Tsukishima’s cheek and slowly moved his lips against Tsukishima’s, breaths exchanging, and the freezing temperature long forgotten. After a few minutes Yamaguchi pulled away with a blissful smile. He squeezed Tsukishima’s hand just slightly before letting it go. “We should head to the bus or we’ll miss it.” “Yeah…” Tsukishima replied, somewhat dazed. He looked at his gift box for a second and carefully put it inside his bag. “You’re not going to put it on now? We still have a little bit to walk.” Tsukishima smirked and grabbed Yamaguchi’s hand again, leading them towards the bus. “When I’m with you I don't need it.”

@haikyuusecretsanta

#haikyuu!!#tsukkiyama #haikyuusecretsanta #hq fanfic #christmas fluff #fanfiction #fanfic

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anarchyisfunandfree · 6 years

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Lmao the only reported injury caused by tree spiking wasn’t even done by environmentalists and might have actually been a set up by the logging company. The guy who was injured was actually supportive of environmental activism and blamed the logging companies poor safety standards.

https://www.iww.org/history/library/Bari/TreeSpiking1

Some highlights (including statements by George Alexander, the man injured)

“ But did Earth First! spike that tree? The answer is almost definitely no. Back in 1987, Earth First! was just getting started in Mendocino County, and the only issue at the time was old growth. There was no consciousness yet about baby tree logging, and the spiked tree was only 12 inches in diameter, There were signs that this may have been the work of a disturbed individual.”

“ Before the tree spiking incident, loggers reported finding mutilated animals around the site--a beheaded deer hanging from a tree, a skinned dog draped over a bulldozer - hardly Earth First! tactics, to say the least.”

“The Mendocino County Sheriff was certainly aware of the survivalist tree spike suspect, but they were strangely quiet about him, and the case was eventually dropped without any charges being filed. Recently, when I got my FBI files, I found out why. The sheriff's reports on the spiking were included in my file, and I learned that the suspect's name was Bill Ervin. He lived in southern California, but he owned property in Elk and sometimes stayed there in a crude cabin. Ervin freely admitted spiking trees on his own side of the property line, and he did it because L-P is well known in this area for cutting a few feet past their property line and taking their neighbors' trees.”

“ Bill Ervin made no secret of the trees he spiked. He marked them with yellow flagging and left the spikes sticking part way out of the trees. He borrowed the hammer from his neighbor and told him what he intended to use it for. He also told a truck driver at the LP logging site, and he told a California Highway Patrol cop. So it is reasonable to assume that LP may have known in advance that there were spiked trees in the area. “

“There is also reason to believe that the tree that broke George Alexander's sawblade was not spiked on Bill Ervin's property, but rather was hit while lying on a log deck after it was cut. The saw hit the spike about nine feet up the tree. “

“Bill Ervin also insists that he used only 16-penny (approximately six-inch) nails on the trees he spiked. No other size nail was found when the sheriffs and LP security cops inspected the trees in the area, and there is no evidence that Ervin ever possessed either any larger nails or a hammer big enough to pound them in with. Yet the nail in the log at the Cloverdale mill was a 60-penny, 11-inch spike.”

“L-P has never been known to spend too much time maintaining equipment or worrying about worker safety. But in the weeks preceding the tree spiking incident, conditions had gotten worse than usual. The bandsaw blade was wobbling when it ran, and cracks had begun to appear in it. But when George and other workers complained, Edwards shined them on, saying the new blades were not in yet, and they would have to ma1ke do. "That blade was getting so bad," said George, "That I almost didn't go to work that day."

“Meanwhile, George and Laurie Alexander had a different take on the incident. "I'm against tree spiking," George told the press from his hospital bed. "But I don't like clearcutting either." Laurie also tried to include L-P in the list of culprits. "I hate L-P," she told me. "I like trees." But the press wouldn't print a word Laurie said, and George's comments about mill safety and clearcutting were mentioned in only one news article, by Eric Brazil of the San Francisco Examiner.“

“While George was convalescing from those injuries, he was contacted by someone from the yellow ribbon gang of pro-timber stooges. George doesn't remember her name, just that it was "some woman from Humboldt County." She asked him to go on tour with her denouncing Earth First! for tree spiking. And George refused.“

“After George refused to go on tour denouncing us, he was forced to return to work at L-P before his injuries even healed. His and Laurie's baby was about to be born, he needed money, and there were not many jobs where he and his family live. George got worker's compensation for the time he was off work, but LP didn't offer him a cent for the trauma and hardship he suffered. They made a big public show of putting up a $20,000-dollar reward for the information leading to the conviction of the spiker, but George Alexander had to file a lawsuit against Louisiana Pacific to get anything at all. And while the company was crying crocodile tears over his injuries in public, in private they were fighting him tooth and nail over his damage claim. He ended up with just $9,000 and an involuntary transfer to night shift. "They used my name all over the country," George told me. "Then they laid me off when the mill closed down."

"LP is just sorry I didn't die," said George Alexander.”

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mokuba · 6 years

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some taggy thing from myn that if i don’t do now, i will forget abt forever like all the other things i’ve been tagged in over the months (i’m sorry i’m like this) and another that i thiiiiiink nana tagged me in too p recently

RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo - I have at least one piercing - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (against the wall tho...im still not strong enough to do “”real”” pushups) - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory - I am good at doing math in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES - I enjoy sports (hockey only tho) - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority - I do/did some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite bands concerts (several! i miss goin to metal shows tbh)

MY LIFE - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling - I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year - I have been in a relationship for over a year (in the past, but not currently, but idk if that’s what this is asking) - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone (i’ve broken 9) - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages - I have made a new friend in the past year

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Rules: name 10 songs you’re currently obsessed with! these are more songs that i find myself listening to more often than most than like, new ones but alfsjsl

1. selkies: the endless obsession - between the buried and me

2. autotheist movement I: create - the faceless

3. proponent for sentience III: the extermination - allegaeon

4. Das Ende aller Lügen - varg

5. marigold - periphery

6. within my reach - sights & sounds

7. zero sum - nine inch nails

8. red bird - outrun the sunlight

9. admit it!!! - say anything

10. ..........dribble tendency (awaken x space jam)

#lemon words #txt #long post #sorry i literally listen to dribble tendency like once a week omw to work AT LEAST #it hypes me up to deal with my workday

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thisisheavynews · 5 years

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25 worst Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductees ever

Simone Joyner

CLEVELAND, Ohio — It’s that time of year again for people to get enraged. That’s because the nominations for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s Class of 2020 are due any day now.

But before we get to whether newly eligible acts like Oasis, The Notorious B.I.G. and Weezer will make the cut, or if longtime snubs like Depeche Mode, Doobie Brothers or Kraftwerk will finally get in, let’s take a look back.

Like most Halls of Fame, the Rock Hall can be polarizing. While, you can make an argument for just about any artist that has been inducted, there are a few dozen fans will swear have no business in music’s hallowed ground.

In an effort to upset as many people as possible (Not really, but it’s inevitable), we ranked the 25 worst Rock and Roll Hall of Fame selections of all time. You know, the ones that had you scratching your head wondering why them and not [insert snub here].

This is just one man’s opinion, of course. Just remember: They’re all good, if not great artists. But were they Rock Hall worthy?

25. Ritchie Valens

Inducted: 2001

Better option: Link Wray

Associated with “American Pie” (“The Day the Music Died”) after passing away tragically in a plane crash alongside Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper, Valens is a legend. But digging deeper, his Rock Hall resume is pretty light. Yes, he was the pioneer of Chicano rock. And yes, “La Bamba” was a huge hit. But that alone should not have earned him induction when you consider other genre pioneers/one-hit wonders such as Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Big Mama Thornton have never even been nominated. There were several better options for the Class of 2001 when it comes to 1950s rock and roll pioneers, top among them being Link Wray.

Victoria Will

24. Darlene Love

Inducted: 2011

Better option: Mary Wells

You’d be hard pressed to find a Rock Hall Inductee more lovable than Darlene Love. An essential figure in Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, Love was (and still is) a great singer. That, along with “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” are her two main arguments for Rock Hall Induction. But you can’t help but wonder why her and not The Marvelettes or Mary Wells, two essential acts for early Motown with bigger hits to their names.

Chris Ware

23. The Dave Clark Five

Inducted: 2008

Better option: Lonnie Donegan

Well, this is sure to upset a lot of baby boomers who still geek out to “Glad All Over.” The Dave Clark Five was a very popular British Invasion act of the 1960s, and the second British act after The Beatles to appear on the “The Ed Sullivan Show.” But The Dave Clark Five’s resume, even compared to just other acts of the 1960s, makes them a borderline Rock Hall candidate. Are they that different from The Crystals, Tommy James & The Shondells, The Shangri-Las or Paul Revere & the Raiders: All acts you could argue for or against? A better choice would have been Lonnie Donegan, the most influential recording artist in British history before The Beatles came around.

Getty Images

22. Cat Stevens

Inducted: 2014

Better option: Nick Drake

Cat Stevens had a great run during the first half of the 1970s, with two very essential albums and a string of hits. But you have to wonder how the Rock Hall landed on his name instead of a wide variety of 1970s acts that have never even been nominated, from Doobie Brothers to Emerson, Lake & Palmer to Jim Croce. Even in his own genre, you could make a better case for Nick Drake who, as time goes on, feels like a better choice than Stevens, given how the former’s influence continues to be felt in the artists of today.

Keystone Features

21. Small Faces/Faces

Inducted: 2012

Better option: New York Dolls

It’s easy to see why fans of bands like Mott the Hoople, J. Geils Band or Little Feat might cry foul that their favorite act isn’t in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Small Faces/Faces are. We’re dealing with a combination of two acts here, a la Parliament-Funkadelic (Though, far less significant). The talent and, to a lesser extent, influence are there. Both the Small Faces and, more so, Faces’ back-to-back to basics style and care-free attitude would influence several acts of the 1970s. But in that regard, the impact of, say, the New York Dolls was much greater. After all, Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood were going to get in anyway.

Getty Images

20. Donovan

Inducted: 2012

Better option: Phil Ochs

A lesser Bob Dylan? Sure. But you could say that about any folk artist really. Donovan’s impact runs deeper, primarily in his merger of folk music with psychedelic pop. But where Donovan falls short is in having just a handful of hits that resonated in the States. That’s not enough to justify his induction over artists who came before such as Phil Ochs or Judy Collins. And how the Nominating Committee saw fit to nominate Donovan years before Joan Baez is beyond me.

19. The Paul Butterfield Blues Band

Inducted: 2015

Better option: John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers

Let’s face it. Before being nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame multiple times, most mainstream music fans had never heard of The Paul Butterfield Blues Band. That doesn’t mean the band wasn’t impactful. The Paul Butterfield Blues Band was integral in bringing Chicago blues to white, suburban audiences in the 1960s. But the band’s lack of “Fame” and the fact that an landmark blues artist like Son House shockingly can’t get a nomination makes you question how The Paul Butterfield Blues Band got on the ballot, let alone chosen over Kraftwerk, Nine Inch Nails, Chic and others nominated for the Class of 2015.

Hulton Archive/Getty

18. Electric Light Orchestra

Inducted: 2017

Better option: Jethro Tull

When you take into account Jeff Lynne’s production legacy, then you can make a solid case for Electric Light Orchestra’s Rock Hall worthiness. But the band on its own — I’m just not seeing it. ELO got in as part of the Nominating Committee’s surge in recent years to include B (or maybe even C) level classic-rock acts. But nothing really puts Electric Light Orchestra ahead of other 1970s acts s like The Guess Who, Bad Company or Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Then again, I wouldn’t induct those bands either.

AP/Los Angeles Times

17. Laura Nyro

Inducted: 2012

Better option: Judy Collins

Laura Nyro is one of the first names that comes up when people list the least deserving members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And it’s easy to see why. It feels like her nomination was plucked out of thin air. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t a great artist. Nyro most certainly was. But she feels somewhat fringe compared to almost any other inductee. She’s sort of like a lesser Randy Newman, where as the Rock Hall could have opted for someone with more influence like the aforementioned Judy Collins.

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16. Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers

Inducted: 1993

Better option: Billy Ward and His Dominoes

Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers were nominated for the Rock Hall every year since the beginning until they were inducted in 1993. Why did the Nominating Committee have the group on par with the greatest rock and roll acts of all time. Sure, Lymon has a compelling story as a child star who died young. But while the lack of noteworthy catalog has kept other influential 1950s acts out of the Rock Hall, namely Johnny Ace and Jesse Belvin, it didn’t affect Lymon. Maybe in the “Early Influences” category this makes sense. Otherwise, can most people name anything besides “Why Do Fools Fall In Love?”

Stephen Lovekin

15. Little Anthony and the Imperials

Inducted: 2009

Better option: Ben E. King (solo)

Little Anthony and the Imperials’ longevity is impressive. Of all the acts come out of doo-wop and move into R&B, few, if any, had a longer run. But the significance of that run is debatable, especially when you start rifling off the list of influential R&B artists that aren’t in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: Joe Tex, Mary Wells, Junior Walker & the All Stars, Ben E. King (solo), The Crystals, etc.

George Konig

14. Del Shannon

Inducted: 1999

Better option: Chubby Checker

It must have been easy to get behind the idea of Del Shannon being in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame when artists like Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne practically worshiped the ground he walked on. But Shannon is one of those artists whose legacy is really built around just one song in “Runaway.” Yes, it was a No. 1 hit and Shannon had a distinct style. But why him and not someone like Chubby Checker or Tommy James & The Shondells.

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13. Bobby Darin

Inducted: 1990

Better option: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

Looking at the list of successful artists of the 1950s, Bobby Darin certainly has some of the deccade’s biggest hits, including “Splish, Splash” and “Mack the Knife.” But how much those songs resonated in the decades that followed? Darin was a famous star who became an actor. But musically, it would have benefitted the Rock Hall to have pushed for an artist with a more unique style and sound.

Ian Showell

12. Chicago

Inducted: 2016

Better option: Procol Harum

Saying Chicago was a successful band during the 1970s would be an understatement. But even after selling all those records, they never really felt like a larger than life act. And when they came close, they morphed into a lame soft rock act with songs like “You’re the Inspiration” and “Hard to Say I’m Sorry.” Yes, Chicago brought horns into rock in the 1970s. But they weren’t the first or, arguably, the best at it, considering the Mothers of Invention and Electric Flag haven’t been nominated.

Plain Dealer Historical Archive

11. The Lovin’ Spoonful

Inducted: 2000

Better option: The Shangri-Las

I’m okay with kicking The Lovin’ Spoonful out of the Rock Hall based on the band’s Induction Ceremony performance alone. Yes, the band had some hits during the 1960s. But they weren’t a game-changer the level of peers like Grateful Dead or The Mamas and the Papas. And in terms of the 1960s as a whole, you have to imagine the impact of act like Joe Tex or The Shangri-Las stretches much further. Heck, I’d take The Monkees over these guys all day, everyday.

Robert Cianflone

10. Bon Jovi

Inducted: 2018

Better option: Iron Maiden

If we’re talking just commercial appeal, record sales and longevity, by all means Bon Jovi belongs in the Rock Hall. Influence and authenticity? Not so much. I could get behind the band’s induction more had Desmond Child been included, since there’s something to be said for the songwriting on choruses to songs like “Livin’ on a Prayer.” As it stands, however, I don’t see any significant changes to the history of rock music if Bon Jovi never existed, other than the Goo Goo Dolls never becoming a band or there being fewer songs to sing along to at weddings. Why Bon Jovi and not Boston, Thin Lizzy or Bad Company?

9. Journey

Inducted: 2017

Better option: Duran Duran

The arguments for and against Journey and Bon Jovi are the same. Only, Journey fans are even more passionate, and, thus, more likely to slash the tires on my car. Yes, “Don’t Stop Believin'” is an indelible pop song. But you know who else made at least one indelible pop song? Duran Duran, Whitney Houston, the Go-Go’s and INXS, each not in the Rock Hall despite having more influence on today’s music landscape than Journey. Whose getting in next: Nickelback?

M. McKeown

8. Gene Pitney

Inducted: 2002

Better option: Harry Nilsson

There’s a case to be made for Pitney in a specialty category, considering his work as a sound engineer and songwriter on hits like “He’s a Rebel” and “Hello, Mary Lou.” But as a “Performer” it doesn’t make much sense. His impact during the 1960s doesn’t measure up to other acts that aren’t in the Rock Hall like Love, Dick Dale or Jan and Dean.

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7. The Moody Blues

Inducted: 2018

Better option: King Crimson

The Moody Blues made good (if not boring) music, some of it great. But this an example of the Nominating Committee and its Boomer voters preferring a second- or third-tier classic rock act rather than a top-tier band from a later decade. The Moody Blues certainly weren’t the kind of groundbreaking act snubs like T. Rex, The Jam or Kraftwerk were.

Plain Dealer Historical Archives

6. Bill Withers

Inducted: 2015

Better option: Lionel Richie and the Commodores

Bill Withers is a fine R&B act with a handful of great soul songs. But even within his own genre, maybe (MAYBE) he rates as one of the 100 most important R&B acts of all time and certainly isn’t in the top 50. The Nominating Committee seemingly pulled Withers’ name out of thin air and voters went for it, despite there being several better options in the forms of Chic, Luther Vandross, Kool & the Gang, Barry White, Rick James, The Commodores and The Ohio Players. I could go on.

Getty Images

5. Jeff Beck

Inducted: 2009

Better option: Dick Dale

If prior to 2009, Jeff Beck felt like a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, it’s because he was as a member of the Yardbirds, and rightfully so. But there was no reason for him to become a two-time inductee, other than the Rock Hall wanting to put together a guitar showcase at its annual ceremony. Beck is undoubtedly one of the greatest guitarists of all time. But his solo career leaves something to be desired in terms of significance.

Promotional Handout

4. The Dells

Inducted: 2004

Better option: Teddy Pendergrass

If you find something significant that separates The Dells from a large group of other like-minded R&B/doo-wop acts from the same period, please let me know what it is. The Dells have one (“Oh What a Nite”), maybe two (“Stay In My Corner”) essential hits, which somehow got them into the Rock Hall ahead of The Dramatics, The Stylistics, Harold Melvin, Teddy Pendergrass, The Dramatics, The Spinners, The Del Vikings and The Chi-Lites, among others.

Ethan Miller

3. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Inducted: 2015

Better option: The Runaways

This concept of Joan Jett as the archetype of the female rock star is a bit weird. Yes, when you think of a woman with a guitar, she comes to mind. But she did not invent that or do anything with it that hadn’t been done before. In fact, her two biggest hits are cover songs. The fact that Joan Jett & the Blackhearts are in the Rock Hall and The Shangri-Las aren’t is a bit absurd. That’s not to say Jett doesn’t belong in the hall. She’s just in there with the wrong group. The Runaways were far more essential.

Timothy A. Clark

2. Percy Sledge

Inducted: 2005

Better option: Joe Tex

There’s a thought among some people that a push for Percy Sledge to get into the Rock Hall was made after he performed at Steve Van Zandt’s wedding. I’m going to ignore that, only because, if true (which it may very well be), it’s INSANE! Sledge has one hit. That’s not discredit his other work. That’s just a fact. “When a Man Loves a Woman” is all anyone knows. Does that make him influential? Sledge was an important artist in terms of southern soul in the 1960s or, better yet, “When a Man Loves a Woman” was an important song, one of the essential hits of the decade. But, in terms of body of work, there just isn’t much else there.

Hulton Archive/Getty Images

1. Stevie Nicks

Inducted: 2019

Better option: Tina Turner

If the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were to admit Stevie Nicks was nominated because she finished first in the “Voice Your Choice” in-museum fan vote, I’d let this go. However, the Rock Hall Foundation has said the vote had no influence on the committee. So we’re left to wonder why Nicks was worthy of becoming the first two-time female inductee. To say Nicks has more than one essential album or song would be a reach. And while she’s an influential figure, most of that (if not all of it) can be chalked up to her time with Fleetwood Mac. The list of women who have had better solo careers than Nicks is too long to list here. So, I’ll just list the women who would have made better two-time inductees, which includes Tina Turner, Diana Ross and Grace Slick.

from Heavy News https://thisisheavynews.com/25-worst-rock-and-roll-hall-of-fame-inductees-ever/

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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This could happen (Trixya) - Toki

AN: First submission! A little one shot real-world Trixya for your nerves ft. a touch of smut. TW: Drink, drugs, swearing.

It was the longest leg of the journey, a boiling hot summer’s morning, and Trixie was already bored. On a day like this she should be out on the beach, eyes half closed in the dazzling light, sun pouring over her skin and drawing shadows across her slowly hardening abs. She loved going to the gym. She loved showing off her muscles, as if she had no idea anyone was watching her smooth skin ripple when she flexed. She loved being athletic, feeling adult. Getting a smoothie. Now she was folded over the central table of the tour bus, listlessly checking the latest Instagram posts she’d been tagged in from the show the night before. Nothing stood out as she scrolled. The usual thirty meet and greet selfies, the three photos of her grimacing and presenting a gifted copy of Contact, a photo of her with her arm draped over the shoulder of a slight twink sporting a hastily-bought merch T. Everyone wants to stand out. Form a lasting connection, make an impression, linger in the sleepy next-day mind of the famous drag queen. No one did. She turned off her phone.

The bus was an ageing one, more fitting for a medium-low budget tour. The outlets didn’t work. Battery must be conserved, and that meant socialising. Trixie pushed herself up from the couch and took a moment to stretch, flexing her biceps as the sun flashed through the windows. “Ooh girl,” Violet piped up from the front. “Get it mama. Bring those arms up here.” Trixie yawned as she paced forward to where a few of her tourmates were curled up. It was the tenth morning of the Summer of Drag tour, a long bill spanning fifteen states over twenty-four days. Trixie, Violet, Bianca, Alaska, Aja, Max, Pandora Boxx and Michelle Visage were all on the roster.. for most of the time, anyway. The Summer of Drag lineup varied several times between states to accommodate the busy schedules of the stars, although Trixie, Michelle and Pandora were permanent fixtures. From tomorrow Pearl would be around for a few days, Adore after that, and Sasha V at some point in future. Trixie dropped down next to Violet and put an arm around her. The mood was definitely low energy, a droning song on the radio as endless fields rolled by outside. The sky was an impossible blue. Thousands of tiny scratchmarks on the windows caught the sun and frosted the windows gold. Most of the queens dozed. A gradual click, click waded into Trixie’s consciousness. She couldn’t place it. “Look at this bullshit.” Violet pushed her phone into Trixie’s hand and slid her sunglasses down over her eyes, shifting a little sideways to get more comfortable. Trixie glanced at the screen, an open text conversation dancing before her eyes as she tried to steady it against the pitch of the bus.

From: PURL bitch I know

From: PURL but like

From: PURL they said they’d find someone else

From: PURL so

Sent: ok but people are gonna talk shit about it cause you did this before (seen)

From: PURL yeah

Sent: I hope they send someone fun (seen)

Sent: this tour is dull af without you (seen)

Sent: did they say who (seen)

Sent: i am sooooo oooo oooo boredd (seen)

From: PURL no

From: PURL sorry purp

“Oh, that sucks.“ Trixie tried to pass the phone back to Violet, but her friend had fallen asleep. She missed Pearl. It was weird how such a chill person could make everything so much more interesting. They hadn’t seen each other since a show in Boston that spring, and she’d been looking forward to catching up. Getting drunk together maybe. Goofing off. Trixie glanced down at Violet, now snoring slightly. Tiny dark hairs had begun to pepper the skinny queen’s upper lip. A spot of drool was threatening to fall onto Trixie’s shirt. She shifted away slowly, willing it not to move until she was out of its path. Violet was always so confident. It dripped off her just like that drool drop. She seemed so permanently at ease, sometimes making Trixie feel awkward and misplaced against her backdrop of casual droll glamour. No big though. Not really. She was learning to let go of a little of that tightly woven country-boy background that kept her careful in life and love.

I guess we’ll see what the future holds. Maybe I’ll meet someone soon.

Her relationship with David had gone the invitable way of all the rest. Intense half-year honeymoon made stronger by the absences, but eventual scraps over missed dates and finally long silences, a few attempts to resurrect their romance, and a pretty inevitable break up. She didn’t blame him. It’s hard being in love with someone constantly on the go, and David had never been particularly interested in her drag. They’d shared a love of video games and a few music interests, but it hadn’t proven enough to last.

Trixie glanced up at the other queens spread around the bus. Aja was next to Violet, sound asleep. Beyond her Pandora, asleep too. Michelle was on the other side of the aisleway, tapping at her phone carefully with inch-long fake nails. Click, click. Oh, that was the noise. Beyond her was Max, deep in a book. Trixie shifted position and studied her for a minute. The morning sun played across the outline of the boy’s aquiline nose, casting a liquid silhouette across the pages as she turned them slowly. Crazy bone-structured baby bitch. Damn. She resumed count subconsciously. Alaska was somewhere in the back, probably napping in her bunk. Bianca nonexistent. She’d opted to take flights between stops instead. Hated tour buses. The tour manager was probably up front with the driver. And that made nine. "Okay. Okay okay.” Trixie had finally freed herself from Violet. She rose to her feet and swung herself back towards the table where her phone lay, pushing the power button as she continued towards the bunks at the back. She scanned the rows for her nametag, mostly out of habit by now. Her bed was on the middle shelf, towards the back on the right-hand side. It wasn’t too bad, considering. Older buses seemed to have roomier bunks, and the external wall of hers was just one huge window with a rolling shade to block out the light. She slid it up halfway to let the sun pour in, mostly so she could watch the fields slide by as she rested her head on her warm pink pillow. The landscape really made her think of home. Occasional farmhouses baking in the hot sun, one or two with their aluminium windmill blades turning slowly. Somewhere a fan whirred softly. No birdsong, just the whisper of grass shifting. The quiet purr of the engine. Time slowing. Her eyelids drooped as the details began to blur. This was a nice moment. Tour wasn’t so bad.

“Rest stop ladies!”

Sweaty neck. Dry mouth. Possibly sunburn. Trixie shifted and reached for her phone as she felt the bus slowing down.

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Ugh.

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“TRIXIEE” came the roar of Violet’s voice, startling the sleepy queen. “GET UP ASSHOLE.” “Oh my god.” “Come on! I need vodka!” “Violet,” Trixie slid out of the bunk and stretched, pacing slowly towards the front. “You don’t need me to fund your alcohol problem girl. Work it out.” Violet had already disappeared through the door. Honestly, Trixie was glad for a break from the drive. She was the last one off the bus, stepping out into the scorching heat as the sunlight landed almost physically onto her skin. She could smell the hot tarmac of the rest-stop parking lot baking in the heat. A bird was croaking somewhere. Time to head for the gas station. She wanted something to drink, some snacks, and definitely something to read. Her phone battery was nearly dead, so she knew she’d be bored as hell for the next five hours. The cool of the airconditioned store was immediately soothing as Aja’s dry laugh hit her ears. She was a cool kid. Her fanbase after her season aired had grown pretty fast, everyone fascinated by her naomi meets kim aesthetic. She was so honest, too. Easy to like. “Trixie.” Violet broke into her thoughts suddenly, rounding the aisle with a bottle of alcohol in each hand. She bore down on Trixie, offering one as she started to chatter. “Vodka’s two for one. I have no cash though and my wallet’s on the bus. If you get me this I’ll let you have the other one.” Trixie didn’t even bother to protest the deal. “Sure girl. Get me a mixer, Coke’s fine.” She glanced down at the magazine rack in front of her. It was the usual assembly of shitty gossip editions, packed with fake headlines and the kind of exaggerated celebrity nonsense news that bordered on slander. She’d read all of them. A small side section of arts and crafts books caught her eye though, and she reached for a book of guitar tabs peeking out from the rack. It proved to be an out-of-print collection of 2000-2005 country song arrangements by local state musicians, the poorly printed cover a photo of an older man sitting on his porch with a scrappy looking dog. Looked dumb. Maybe she’d pick up some inspiration for her next tune. A couple of songs from her recently-released album had proven pretty popular, not just with the Drag Race fanbase but also the general public, even charting on the country music billboard. Since then she’d started working on new material, but her creativity had kind of dried up. Nothing stuck. Trixie headed for the counter, grabbing a bag of chips along the way. Violet was waiting for her and passing time making idle conversation with the clerk. He’d clearly recognised the queen, and was not-so-subtly attempting to swing a selfie. “I’ll take a photo with you if you give me cigarettes,” Violet purred. That’s weird. “You started smoking, girl?” Violet shrugged. The cashier’s face had fallen a little, and he started to explain that giving out store goods could get him fired. “I got ‘em. I’m not supporting your habit though. You owe me. This is blood money.” “Yeah yeah, I’ll pay you in show money tonight.” Violet laughed. “I always get more than you, so.” “You don’t even need it, cunt. You’re the rich one.” Trixie swiped her card as Violet gathered up their shopping. Her gaze fell on the songbook and she started to mention it, but Trixie’s less than playful shrug stopped her from cracking a joke. “I’m bored,” she offered by way of explanation. “I figured I’d learn some uh… Backyard Bill and the Moonshines.” “Sounds cool, girl.” Violet shoved the cigarette pack into her back pocket. “I wanna do shots when we get on the bus though. If Pearl’s not coming I’m gonna just get drunk without her.”

Two hours later, Violet set about making good on her promise. Trixie stared at the row of shot glasses Aja was setting up on the table as Violet made sure they were quickly filled. Alaska was next to her on the couch, slowly peeling nail glue off her fingernails with her characteristic bored langour. She was droning on about the new fashion label venture Sasha Velour was collaborating on. It was interesting, but Trixie wasn’t interested. Max was tucked up on the rear sofa at the table, deep in conversation with the side of Michelle’s face as she continued texting whoever it was she was always talking to. “Yeah honey,” Trixie heard her murmur, “yeah yeah. Yep.” Aja pushed a shot into her eyeline. “Time to drink, Trixita.” Shots right after lunch. Three hours to go until the venue. Why not? “Cheers.” She downed the vodka easily, Violet a second behind her. Max glanced up from her seat but shook her head at Aja’s offer of a shot. “Guess it’s just the three of us. Move up.” As she started to squeeze onto the couch next to Aja, Violet’s phone lit up for a brief moment. “How are you getting charge, girl?” “I have a battery pack, a girl gave it to me last night after I tweeted about this dump truck not having power.” “Work.” Trixie dug into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She checked the screen to see her battery level. 2%.

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Oh yeah, what did Katya want? Trixie swiped her phone, but let out an exasperated sigh as the screen froze and then faded to black. “Violet, can I use your charger?” “Sorry girl.” The skinny brunette shrugged as she tied her long hair into a ponytail. “It’s out. Only lasted for like an hour. Hey, round two.”

By the time the tour bus pulled into the venue parking lot it was already starting to get dark. Red stripes scored the early evening sky as the last of the golden sun painted the city skyscrapers. Lights were flicking on all around, late workers hunched over desks as everyone poured into the streets to begin their various evening plans. So many lonely people. I’m super romantic. And super drunk. Fuuck. Trisie slid her bag otno her shoulder andd stagered down theh bus gangway. STTUUPID. shouldnt get tshi drunk before a show buit theres no meet and greet tonigth it'sl be fine she’d alreday put on her makuep evne though it wasn'r completetly as good as usuual. last shot was anhour ago and she was actually startig to sober up. she jstu needed some fresh air. pulling her hood up, she stpped into the cooling evenign air and took a deep breath. that’s goood. not so bad. ACtually, startig to feel a lottt better. Pandora put an arm around her shoulders as her head stopped spinning. “You ok?” “Yeah girl. Just shouldn’t drink on the bus. I’m good.” They shared a moment’s laughter as they heard the sudden roar from the line snaking around the side of the building, ripples of excitement spreading as the fans caught sight of the famous queens. “Let’s get inside.” Trixie followed the other queens as the group of prearranged roadies and assistants flooded out from the building. She greeted her assigned aid Toby and pointed out her suitcases amongst the pile being quickly unloaded from the bus, before stepping into the venue and narrowing her eyes to accommodate the dim lighting in the hallway. She was definitely still feeling drunk. Probably needed to touch up her makeup before getting on stage. She checked her watch, peering in the low light. The opening number was in an hour. Trixie turned the corner of the hallway to see the dressing room doorway and soon spotted the familiar line of mirrors and lights. She plopped herself next to Aja, the newer queen of the pack looking a little more drunk than she was. “Which order are you on?” Aja glanced at the sheet on the countertop as she quickly unloaded her makeup. “Uhh.. Second, right after.. does that say Pandora?” Trixie leaned closer and nodded. “Yeah. Before Max. Then me. There’s no meet and greet tonight though, right?” Aja screwed up her eyes to make out the difference between her foundation powder shades. She held up a brush in a wobbly hand and took a stab at reaching for her base shade. She knocked it off the table. “Yeah. I think Bianca’s first and last and she usually stays on, right?” “Up to her, girl.” Trixie found to her surprise that her makeup was actually pretty on point. She reached for her set of preprepared lashes and twisted the cap off her Duo tube, running a line of the glue down the middle of each dark clump. “I can’t wait to get out tonight after this. I want a nap. I’m so fucking tired of the heat. I can’t ever sleep properly, it’s like I just get cramps and have these weird dreams about being late for this summer camp I went to when I was a kid. Except I never went to this one, so it’s like my head just came up with this weird.. place..” Trixie trailed off as she noticed how skillfully and deliberately Aja was painting her face. The younger queen had quickly transformed her cheeks into a distinctive contour, lining her nose with cream shades as she scrunched her eyes up to focus her vision. “Girl how are you so good at this when you’re drunk?” Aja laughed. “I’ve done this so many times. Like too many.” “Worrrk, what do you use to highlight?” “Twin Cake with Ice Angel and Kitten Parade, I’m doing shimmery fairy fantasy tonight.” Trixie glanced over in surprise as she held one set of lashes to her eyelids to let the glue dry. “Seriously? I haven’t met anyone else who uses those two together.” Aja laughed. “I learned it from you! You did a Periscope once ages ago and I asked you what you used. I still use it for my pink look.” “No way.” Trixie blinked a few times to check her lashes were fully attached. All good. “Well girl, I’m gonna go find something to keep my buzz going.” She reached into her bag and yanked out her phone charger, hammering it into the wall and hooking up her phone as she stopped to glance around. Where’s Violet? A sudden rise in volume hit her as Bianca swept into the room. Immediately her head began to ache and she slipped out the door behind the tiny comedian queen, pausing to give her a quick air kiss. She knew roughly where the stage was, so she started down the hallway to the left hoping to run into an assistant who could grab her a whiskey from the bar. The pounding of the bass from the club filled the air. Trixie paused for a moment to identify the song. It’s.. yeah, it’s Sissy That Walk. Would she ever get away from the Ru Girl fame? She knew she should be grateful. Oh, she really was. But it was wearing to travel for weeks on end with people she couldn’t completely bond with, medicating with alcohol to pass the hours. She definitely needed to slow down on that. Except for now. She just wanted to get to the end of this corridor and find the club staff.

Instead, she turned the corner and ran straight into Katya. It took her a few seconds to adjust. The shorter queen was fully made up, double Courtney wig pinned on top in an effortless sweeping blonde style that looked a far stretch from her usual careless ‘ugly drag’. She was wearing her red cheerleader outfit, KATYA spelled out across her chest in black letters. Her bright blue eyes shone out from their smokey black makeup, teeth flashing a perfect white in the low light as she roared with laughter at Violet, the brunette hanging off her arm with a happy devotion. Trixie sucked in her breath in total surprise.

“Katya!” she shrieked, a little too excitedly for her own taste. Her comedy partner’s head whipped around and she was met with an enormous grin. Immediately she reached for her friend’s tiny frame. Hugging Katya was always like taking a little bag of bones into her arms, all frenzy and energy and joy. “What are you doing here?” “They booked me, mama! I’m the surprise guest!” Trixie was flooded with a wave of half-drunk affection. Right when she needed someone to feel close to, here’s this idiot. The pair shared an unbelievable connection, always had. She suddenly found she could bear the thought of the tour. Felt excited, even. “Are you doing any other nights? How long are you staying for?” she asked into Katya’s wig, before pulling out of the hug. “Just tomorrow!” Their eyes were locked, a moment Trixie didn’t want to break out of. Characteristically, Katya turned away first. “Christ, I need a cigarette.” “I gotcha girl.” Trixie narrowed her eyes as Violet reached into her back pocket and prized out the pack of Camels. She waved it in front of Katya’s face, grinning slyly. “Trade you. Sexual favours.” Oh right. Now it makes sense. She knew. Violet always flirted with Katya. Ever since they’d slept together on tour ages ago, Trixie had definitely felt the sexual tension whenever the queens got in the same room. It was pretty one-sided though, right? Katya laughed and reached for the cigarettes. “You beast! Using my addiction against me Barbara? Are you coming out?" Violet tightened her grip on Katya’s arm and began tugging her toward the fire exit further down the hallway. As Trixie turned to head in the opposite direction she heard the brunette cackle, "Of course! I’m gonna suck your dick in the alley. Let’s go, bitch.” Eye roll. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here Katya. I’m boooored. You know Pearl dropped the tour?” An insistant flower of anger tugged at Trixie’s throat as she finally reached the backstage area. “Hey someone, can I get a Fireball?” So Violet had known since that morning. Katya was supposed to be Trixie’s comedy partner. They could’ve arranged something. Thrown together an impromptu UNHhhh. Knocked something up to completely eclipse everyone else. To be honest with herself, she’d had been feeling a little overshadowed on the tour. So many gigs and dates had left her little time to work on anything new, so she’d fallen back on Candy Man and a guitar piece from one of her more popular recent songs. Everyone laughed a little flat at her jokes, they’d heard them a thousand times before on social media. And Katya was this.. this catalyst of unpredictable humour, like some explosion of random parts of a thousand cultural references and bit-parts mashed through her perfect set of teeth. She was always, always a surprise. Her stupid goofball humour reached into Trixie and yanked out the best parts of her. Framed them in the spotlight. Made her so cuttingly funny, every joke landing like an old classic, met with shrieks of laughter. Trixie and Katya the Comedy Duo were a force, and they could outshine absolutely anyone. “Here you go,” Toby showed up out of nowhere, slipping a glass of whiskey into her hand. “Straight up, on us.” “Thanks.”

Two hours later, her buzz was still going strong as she sat down to take off her makeup. Her performances had gone well, met with a level of appreciation and such a genuine response from the fans that she was left a little humbled. This was what it was about, right? Being an entertainer. Trixie lifted the heavy wig off her head and let out an enormous groan. “Suck it up, queen.” Bianca slid down into the chair next to her, quickly touching up her lipliner with an expert eye. “At least you can go to bed. I’m on meet and greet for an hour.” “I’m not going to bed yet girl. Have you seen Katya?” Bianca glanced round and lifted a finger to point at the sky. “What do you think?” Oh yeah. The familiar trap beat opening of Same Parts filtered through the doorway, met with the deafening roar of the already-energised crowd. As Alaska piped up across the room about how much in royalties Katya must have earned for Tatianna, Trixie suddenly remembered her phone. She swiped it on and opened her messages.

From: Katya i’m booked with you!

From: Katya see you tonight

From: Katya lets do a double? I’ve got some new material

From: Katya call me call me

From: Katya deb?

From: Katya see you soon mama

The five mixed drinks Trixie had consumed since reaching the venue quickly welled up in her throat as she suddenly felt regretful about those nasty little thoughts she’d haboured about her friend. Poor Katya, she’d tried to get in touch. She was actually such a good person. And this momentary feeling of elation definitely has nothing to do with feeling jealous before. Jealous of what? I mean it’s normal to want to spend time with Katya. But Violet draping herself on her is so fucking gross. Give me a chance to talk to her. Trixie suddenly felt a pang of nostalgia for their Australia tour. They’d shared the limelight 50-50 and had spent a couple wonderful days and nights goofing off so far from the usual routine of the big US tours. It’d been so great. Katya’s great. Where’s Katya? Katya’s on stage. Katya’ll be out soon. Katya’s sleeping on the bus tonight. Trixie paused her thought train to sweep her towering pile of black-smudged facewipes into the trash. She quickly slid out her contacts, dumped everything into her bags and shouldered the lightest. Toby, who’d been texting in the corner, immediately jumped to his feet and started ferrying her cases out to the back. “See you on the bus boo,” Violet piped up, quickly taking down her hair. Alaska was sprawling next to her, texting frantically. No reason to stay here. Trixie nodded and zipped up her jacket, heading out into the cold air. A pair of fans beyond the fence about forty feet off spotted her and started howling her name, so she gave them a little halfhearted wave before climbing up into the bus. She felt pretty drunk, still. It’d be a shame to waste it. “SHOT.” “Oh my god.” As her heart returned to normal, Frank the tour manager slid a shot glass across the table. It was still smudged with Aja’s lipstick. “This is my last night. Pete’s taking over tomorrow.” “Where are we going next again?” “Houston, then Austin.” “And after?” “Tulsa.” “Mhmm.” Trixie skulled the shot and winced. “That’s me for the night.” “No way, everyone’s doing a round when they get on board.” “Well Katya won’t.” “Oh right, I forgot. Was she like an alcoholic before?” “No. She just has an addictive personality and she doesn’t want it. She’s not really into doing things unless it’s a super serious blackout, yknow?” Frank whistled quietly. “Must be tough. You know a lot about her.” Trixie shrugged. “Well, we spend a lot of time talking.” “Do you ever run out of things to talk about?” “No.” Trixie ran her fingertip around the rim of her shot glass. She felt herself click into an automatic Talk-About-Katya mode. It was pretty familiar - she’d probably mentioned her comedy partner in 8/10 interviews. “She’s so funny. I’d marry her if it’d ever actually work between us. But you have to be attracted to someone before you’d want to spend that amount of time with them.” She paused for a second to think. “Either that, or not attracted to them at all. That’s why we get on so well.” Frank reached out and took the glass from between her fingers. “So you’re saying you’re completely 100% platonic?” “I mean..” Trixie started to hear the vague chatter of a few of her tourmates as they approached the bus. “Katya says attraction’s a spectrum. Like it’s such a fluid thing that changes from day to day. There’s definitely times when she’s into me sexually.” The alcohol loosened her lips for a moment. “I liked her too, at first. But I had a boyfriend and the shooting schedule was so intense, we weren’t really allowed to talk in private cause they wanted to film everything. So nothing ever happened.” “Right, yeah.” Frank leaned back to glance out of the window at the approaching queens. “But nothing after it wrapped?” Trixie shrugged. “I mean I definitely liked her. You can’t not like her. But we work so well as business partners that I never let anything happen between us, so I guess..” She shrugged. “That whole physical thing just died out. For me, anyway. I’m all or nothing, emotionally.” Pandora’s face appeared through the doorway, followed by Michelle. “She isn’t much for romance, though. As you could guess.” “Who?” barked Michelle, sliding in next to Trixie. She reached out and took one of the shot glasses Frank had finished refilling. “Who are we talking about?” “Katya.” “Ohh.” Downing the vodka with an expert flick of the wrist, Michelle pulled out her phone and immediately started to text. “The whole Ross-Rachel thing. Don’t you ever get tired of talking about it?" Trixie shrugged. "It’s pretty good for business. It can get weird though.” She leaned forward. “You know fans write stories about us getting together?” “Mm-hmm.” “They’re elaborate, too. There’s this whole demographic of underaged girls that want us to get together. I don’t get it at all.” Michelle glanced up. “Honey, it’s obvious. Everyone needs a lovestory to believe in. Writing it makes them feel like a part of it.” “You’re right.” “WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW.” Katya’s familiar sex-noise echoed out from her parted grinning lips as the blonde queen burst onto the bus with Violet quickly in tow. “Drinks, ladies? God, I’m so hot. Is there a shower here?” Michelle gestured towards the rear of the coach. “Help yourself. Use one of the guest towels on the shelf.” “Thanks mama. Nice doing business." As she swept past the table, Katya glanced down at the line of shot glasses and grabbed one. She slid it over to Trixie before anyone could react and winked. "Trixie’s having mine.” “No, girl. I’m about to be passing out.” “Wouldn’t be the first tiiiime,” Katya half-sang as she disappeared into the bus bathroom. Trixie slid hers over to Michelle who accepted it without comment. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and the motherly brunette gave a smirk. “You like it when she pays attention to you though, right?” “Oh yeah, she’s great. She makes you feel like the only person in the world.” Violet dropped her phone on the table and slid in next to Michelle. “Oh yeah,” she laughed. “And I’m gonna make HER feel like the only person in the world tonight.” Trixie suddenly snapped into focus. “Wait, yeah. Where’s she sleeping? All the beds are full.” “With me!” Violet rolled her eyes. “Duh. Literally. Literally!” “Yeah, we get it.” Frank broke into the conversation. “You want to fuck him. But not on this bus. Everyone needs sleep and you can hear everything, you know that.” “Shut up, Frank.” “No, he’s right.” Trixie spun around to face Violet, head swimming slightly. “I need to sleep this off, girl. You and Katya can fuck as much as you want, but not in your bunk. It’s above mine, and you know I hate noise like that.” Violet shrugged. “Fine. I’ll get a hotel in.. Where are we next?” “Austin.” “No, Houston. And you can’t, we have to get across to Austin by lunch. We’re driving all night.” “Fuck, I’m never getting laid.” The chat subsided into casual remarks about the evening, but it was always crazy how much everyone loved to talk about Katya. Trixie absentmindedly chewed a fingernail as she tried to understand her friend’s intense charm. It’s like people just wanted to experience her through conversation. Like even if she wasn’t around, she was on people’s minds. She’d even won over- “Alasssssssssssska!” Violet hooted, as the sleepy-eyed queen stepped onto the bus. “Bitch c'mere, we’re toasting Fred. Frank.” “Coming purple monster,” Alaska replied in her gutteral vocal fry. “Were you waiting for me?” “You wish girl. Here.” “Thanks girl. Where’s Kattie sleeping tonight?” “In with me,” Trixie blurted suddenly. She wasn’t taking the chance of Katya and Alaska hooking up. Everyone had half been expecting it since their Aspen snapchats and resulting intense fast friendship. Since those stupid Pure commercials they’d been talking on the phone a lot too. Katya had a theory about separation of sex and soul. She’d gone into great exploratory detail a few times: wild-eyed, arms waving happily as she burned through cigarettes and spilled thoughts from that great endless mind of hers at a million miles an hour. She loved the idea of anchorless love. She couldn’t see it as a minefield, or anything but a way to tie everything together. She wanted to have sex with the entire world. But sort of with her heart. And brain. And dick. Anyway, she insisted that a successful business partnership could happen even when you were sleeping together. But not with feelings involved - she’d put her foot down about that immediately. Trixie couldn’t separate emotions and physicality like that. She meant it when she said all or nothing. But maybe Alaska would give Katya what she wanted, and they’d be the next hot new comedy pairing. Maybe that’s what Katya was after. And now she was heading back down the aisle of the bus, makeup gone, towelling off her short blonde hair in a pair of black shorts and a Tshirt that said сука. “Hiiieee,” she grinned. “What’d I miss. Oh, we’re driving.” Several of the queens around the table turned to check that yes, the bus had smoothly pulled out and was now making its way down an orange-lit road. “Move over,” Katya squeezed onto the very full seat next to Alaska. Their legs tangled up and she fluidly threw an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me about the tour so far mama. How’s this pit of dusty rusty snakes treating you?” “Oh we’re fiiine.” Alaska dropped her phone onto the table and turned her full attention to her friend. No one gets her away from that phone but Katya. Trixie leaned forward to join the conversation, but became suddenly aware her head had seriously begun to spin. “Violet’s up to her her usual antics. Max has read every single book, or maybe just one long book, and Michelle’s been doing my nails. We’re nail friends. I hate this god damn bus though." "Shit.” Alaska and Katya turned to glance at Trixie, who’d turned pale and started to sweat. “Guys, I need to get out.” They quickly made space for her to clamber towards the bathroom, where she slid the door shut and dropped to her knees by the toilet. Everything was super swimmy. Ugh. She rested her forehead on the seat and closed her eyes. It’d pass. It was mostly the movement of the bus anyhow. She just needed a minute.

“TRIXIE!!” The barbie queen’s eyes snapped open. How long had she been asleep? She reached up and unlatched the door, and immediately Violet spilled in. “Oh my god. Oh my god I’ve been needing to pee so bad. You fuckin asshole. Get out of here.” “Sorry girl. I passed out for a sec.” Trixie pulled herself unsteadily to her feet and navigated past her friend. She glanced at a few of the empty bunks before swinging herself carefully into her own, head beginning to pound. “Why do I do this? Fuck.” Time to get some rest. Trixie brought the glowing dial of her watch up to her face and screwed up her eyes in hope of making some sense of the time. 1:12 AM. She’d been out for half an hour. Down the hallway the queens were still going strong. She could hear Michelle, Aja and Alaska ribbing back and forth, Katya’s shriek of laughter rippling out from time to time. Pandora and Max were deep in conversation, but she couldn’t hear what about. It didn’t matter. Time for sleep.

Neon.

Neon green. Soft. A smoky heavy texture in the air, summer night lonely. Darkness and neon and green. Still. Two blurry little figures.

Trixie opened her eyes properly and peered out of the window. The bus was parked up at a gas station. The lights of the pumps were shining out into the dark, and by the edge of the clearing Katya and Alaska were sharing what looked like a joint and talking to each other quietly. As Trixie watched, Alaska reached up to touch Katya’s arm for just a second. They had their backs turned, and Katya exhaled in a long slow stream of smoke that faded softly into the darkness beyond. Everything was mostly silent on the bus. A few snores filtered through intro Trixie’s consciousness. She checked the time again - 3:54 AM. And she suddenly felt lonely. That was the thing with her and Katya. The lines were so blurry they had to be made completely clear and concrete. But Katya was right - attraction was fluid. And right now, Trixie’s heart hurt with jealousy and a touch of confusion. The way Alaska and Katya were talking in a calm, quiet way made her a little nervous, too. Alaska could cut so easily through to Katya’s more serious side, the vulnerable bit she kept hidden away for the most part. She showed it on Periscope sometimes. Trixie had watched them all. So what if those two start doing more together? And UNHhhh gets even less of Katya’s time? Whatever they do’ll never be as successful. She had to admit it felt great working with Katya. She loved how everything seemed to be a predictable hit; platinum star fanbase gold. Their joint videos immediately climbed to most viewed, any minute interaction on social media prized and screencapped and retweeted and obsessed over. Financially, it was a winning combo. And.. And it made her feel special being half of Trixie and Katya when the other half was somewhere nearby being loved by the whole world. Cause there was that connection. It was implied. Katya was in some very unspoken, very platonic way - mostly platonic way - a little bit Trixie’s. Now the silent late-night duo were turning and walking slowly back towards the bus. Alaska linked arms with Katya, their movements slow and easy. Trixie stared out into the darkness, letting them walk beyond her gaze. She heard the hiss of the door, their muted footsteps as they climbed onboard. She heard their motions as they passed by her in the dark. She heard a stifled giggle as they awkwardly climbed into Alaska’s bunk. She closed her eyes.

It was a boiling hot summer’s morning, Trixie’s mouth was stuck shut, and her eyes felt like little fireballs. Ugh fuck, Fireball. For the past twenty minutes she’d been willing herself to get back to sleep, but it wasn’t coming. She was still her in sweats from the night before with the bus heating up pretty fast in the baking morning sun. She needed a shower. Swinging one leg out of the bunk, she suddenly realised she’d slept in her shoes. Great. Mess. She kicked them off and padded quietly into the bathroom, careful not to disturb the other sleeping queens. A glance at her watch showed it to be 7 something AM. She quickly pulled the door shut and shed her clothes, stepping into the stream of lukewarm water with relief. What a rough night. Was it? She cycled through the events from the evening before as she soaped up. That gas station scene had felt like a dream, but Katya’s absence in her bed was all too real this morning. Maybe this was it. The start of a new comedy partnership. One that didn’t involve her. What kind of stuff would they make? Probably something arty. They’d make fun of high concept fashion ads from the 90s and thrill the New York crowd to death. She could see why it’d be funny, too. Trixie turned off the water and started towelling off as she began to think about her own performance for the coming evening. Maybe a Dolly Parton song to change things up a little. She still needed to check out that stupid country song book. She stepped into a fresh pair of boxers and pulled a shirt over her head. Clean clothes felt amazing. Stretching felt super good, too - even though the little bathroom was too small to really get a good reach. She stepped out into the aisle and tossed her dirty clothes on top of the full laundry basket, reaching out to steady herself as she swung her body into her bunk and dropped down straight on top of Katya.

“WHAT the fuck?” Trixie rapidly hushed her voice as the little queen giggled, squirming underneath her weight. Above her Violet gave a grumpy moan and kicked a foot out into the alley. “You scared me motherfucker,” Trixie hissed. Katya extracted herself and rolled towards the window, squishing herself up against the cool glass. She rested her head on one hand and struck a jaunty paint-me-like-your-french-girls pose. “Hi mama. Miss me?” “No. Where were you? I thought you were supposed to sleep in here last night.” Katya shrugged. “Was I? I slept in with Alaska. I mean I didn’t really sleep. She takes up all the room. Can we cuddle?” Trixie extended an arm without comment and Katya immediately swung her head up into her neck. It always felt so easy. An arm snaked over her stomach and Katya’s little bony hand tucked itself lightly under her hip. “MMmm.” “Shhh.” Trixie felt her friend sneak a knee over hers, pushing in between her legs. “Let me in mama. Let me in, I’m not gonna try anything. Promise. I just want to sleep.” “No!” “Please? Are you sure?” “Katya.” “Mmmm. Mmm-mm.” “Katya.” “Mmmmm.” “Fine. But you’re gonna sleep and I’m too awake now. I need music. Do you have any?” Without a word, Katya reached into the pocket of her shorts and yanked out her phone, white earbuds tightly wrapped around it. She plopped it on her friend’s chest and rested her hand just below, fingertips in the dip between Trixie’s ribs. Trixie’s neck tickled as she inhaled happily. “You smell good, mama.” Trixie didn’t reply. With one arm around Katya she was finding it tricky to unwind the headphones, lifting the wires as the phone tumbled over onto her chest. It thwapped Katya’s fingers, the little queen mumbled in protest and moved her hand lower down. Halfway onto Trixie’s stomach. And then a touch lower. “Katya.” “Mmmmmm.” She shifted her weight and slid her knee fully between Trixie’s legs. Their bare thighs settled tightly together, skin to skin. It might have been her imagination, but for a very brief second Trixie felt a completely unexpected twinge. Fuck, not now. “I’m not trying anything.” “You better not.” “Mmm. Night.” A moment passed before she felt the subtle shift of Katya’s body relaxing. She always fell asleep immediately. It had been a relief last summer when they’d stayed together, Katya aggressively hitting on Trixie in an effort to culminate their friendshp. Nothing had happened beyond a similar snuggle close to how they lay now, tangled up in a warm embrace. Attraction is such a spectrum. Trixie was pretty sure Katya wasn’t into her at the moment. But you never knew, she never clung at all. No signals. Her thigh, between my thighs. Trixie needed a distraction. It was biological, right? A response to stimulation. It’d been a long, long time. She tucked an earbud into her left ear and swiped the phone on. It was locked. Katya was already snoring, and her hand was too awkward to tease a finger onto the home button. Stuck with your crazy Russian musical soundtrack, or whatever. Or t.A.T.u. Or the background white noise track of a meat packing plant or something, you little weirdo. She pressed play from the lock menu. A surprisingly pretty muted synth track flooded her ears. Far off echoed drums. A slightly tuneless Swedish-sounding voice, breaking from odd melodics to soft whispers, phasing between uncomfortable and really beautiful as the chords shifted. This was so Katya. Nothing was ever straightforward. She looked for the odd in everything. Everything came together. Trixie turned her head to rest her chin on Katya’s warm forehead, eyes half focused on the gold fields rolling past the window. She felt their bodies together, locked tight. Watched the light play over their skin. Their breathing had subconsciously synced, and she spent a few minutes zoning out into the way their chests rose and fell together. She could see Katya’s heartbeat pulsing along the golden skin on the back of her hand. She thought about their skin contact. Katya and Alaska would never snuggle like us. But if they start working together all the time, it’s pretty much the end of us. At least.. in a business sense. She knew she was being ridiculous. But she always leapt to conclusions. It was just her mind. Katya mumbled softly in her sleep, pushing her face a little closer into Trixie’s neck. At least now, even if only for now, Trixie had her friend’s body wrapped up in her arms. She wondered if there’d ever be an event horizon - a moment where Katya’s phenomenal fame kept growing and she drifted away, just out of reach. Didn’t have time for filming. Couldn’t return calls. Didn’t text back. She’d expected that thought to trigger some kind of business plan in her head. A way to make it work. A plot to keep filming and collaborating on everything that kept their duo going. But instead, Trixie was surprised by how strongly her chest opened up and a wave of intense attachment rushed out, threatening to overwhelm her. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on Katya’s skin. Don’t go. She bit her tongue to clamp down on that thought, but feelings were hitting her. Hard. No, something else was hitting her. She glanced down. The crotch of Katya’s shorts had begun to bulge, pressed lightly against Trixie’s thigh. She glanced at Katya’s eyelids and found them still firmly shut, the queen apparently deep in sleep. Ugh, shit. What do I do now? The strength of her recent unspoken realisations were enough to deal with at the moment. She definitely didn’t need any physical complications. She should push Katya off her and demand some space. Wake her up. Reestablish those boundaries. Except.. The blonde queen had started to grind down slowly against her thigh, and for some reason Trixie couldn’t stop staring at the hardening bulge between her legs. Her heart began to pound. Her body began to respond. She could feel the blood starting an inevitable rush downwards, a familiar tingle growing faster than she’d like. They’d sort of done this before, one time. An intense snuggle, some slow grinding. Katya called it frottage. Trixie thought that sounded like a kind of cheese. She’d cracked a joke and they’d broken it off, Katya rolling quickly off the couch to go find a cigarette. That was before David, before Palm Springs, when they’d had to shut anything like that down due to the budding new relationship. Trixie would be lying if she hadn’t briefly wondered about what would’ve happened in its place. What might have happened one of those vacation nights, maybe after their naked photoshoot. But that was then, and this was now, and honestly she was starting to lose focus on anything but the now-visible outline of Katya’s erection through her pants. “Katya,” she whispered. This wasn’t going to happen while anyone was asleep. She felt the queen’s eyelids open sleepily. “Mm?” This is it. Do or die. ..Fuck it.

“Come here.” Heart pounding, she took Katya’s hand from her chest and moved it slowly downwards, inch by inch, until Katya’s fingers were just about to brush the rise of her swollen boxers. She lifted her hand away and held her breath as the blonde queen paused for a moment. And then, without comment, Katya dropped her fingertips lightly onto the shaft of her hard dick. As jolts of electricity pounded through Trixie’s body, Katya began to trace the outline of her erection, moving slowly with two probing fingers before sliding her whole hand over and around her girth, glancing up to meet Trixie’s eyes. “You were right, mama.” “What?” Trixie whispered, caught off-guard. “About the size. I didn’t believe you. You’re big.” “I tol-” Trixie’s breath caught suddenly in her throat as Katya tightened her grip. She began to squeeze with a little more pressure, grinding herself harder against Trixie’s leg. “You’re too big for me. But maybe I’m right for you.” Trixie felt Katya’s free hand slide down to her hip, pulling her insistently onto her side to face her. She felt her fingers begin to tug her boxers down, the other hand still slowly moving up and down her dick with the kind of pressure that felt unbelievable through the material. It was too much. And then she was free, and Katya’s fingers were sliding around her shaft, and Katya was pushing her own pants down with a quick movement from her spare hand. “Touch me,” she whispered, bring her lips up to Trixie’s. The skin was barely grazing, and Katya kept it that way. Trixie could smell her. Could almost taste her. Her lips started to ache, anticipating their kiss. Katya read her mind, and reached out for her hand. “Touch me first.” Trixie complied, letting Katya guide her down to her dick. She felt the warm skin touch her fingertips, and before she had a moment to think she’d already wrapped her hand around the girth of it, eliciting a tiny moan from Katya. They began to pump each other slowly, the hot breath between their lips mingling as they tried to stay silent. Trixie could feel herself melting into the sensation, her eyes closing in the warm sun, disappearing completely into the way her heart wrapped about Katya’s touch. She leaned forward to break the desperate tension but Katya leaned back, just out of reach. “Not yet.” “Katya? Where’s Katya?” Shit. Frank. Fuck. Trixie opened her eyes to meet Katya’s blue-eyed surprise. “Oh shit.” Trixie quickly scooted over to the bunk curtain, tugging her boxers up with one hand and pulling her shirt down with the other. She had no idea why she felt so guilty, but the way Katya was grinning made her jump all over. Now she could see Frank, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, some papers in his hands. “She’s here. What’s up?” “She has to sign these insurance forms. I should’ve had her do it last night but I need her to do it now before we cross state lines.” “I’m coming.” Katya finished buttoning up her shorts and propped herself up on one elbow. “I’ll be there in a sec.” “I’m leaving them on the table.” Trixie glanced over and watched as her newfound crush checked her pockets for her cigarettes. She finally found the crushed pack and teased one out, sliding it between her lips with a little smile. “Hey, do you know I bought those for you?” Trixie whispered. Katya flashed her a look of surprise. “Well.. I paid for them.” Made sense. Katya pulled the cigarette from her mouth and leaned in towards her. “Do you want a small kiss, mama?” Fuck yes. But maybe.. “Tonight.” Gotta maintain some boundaries. A flash of a grin, the tiniest linger of her hand against Trixie’s chest as she clambered over her, and Katya was gone. Trixie knew she wouldn’t be back. It wasn’t her style. But they had one more night to figure it out.

It was the second longest leg of the journey, a boiling hot summer’s morning, and Trixie was writing a song.

#trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #smut #tw alcohol #tw drugs #tw swearing #toki #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #this could happen

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