Well, here is the monstrosity. This text was originally written in Spanish and went through four more languages before getting to the final English version you’re about to read. The language translation chain was the following:
Spanish - Suajili - Dutch - Esperanto - Tagalog - English
As the title says, this is a part of a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG timeline that was meant to be posted since about two years back, still life happens and the original story, called Havana Nights hasn’t been fully written, not posted, so if it doesn’t make sense -even more- feel free to ask. Finally, and before posting it I want to thank @MarCaribe, because without her the original idea for this timeline won’t be even possible.
I always get my jewelry back, more to occupy my hands than more necessary. The sun came up and my hands were shaking like the leaves of an autumn tree. Let me think for a moment what would happen to me if I agreed to marry the way my mother wanted? A bitter laugh left my lips, it would not be just me. I looked at myself again in the mirror, the reflection image gives me an expression of fear.
It took a lot of effort to get here, many years playing small roles and people hearing that a woman’s place is not outside the door of her house and she is her husband’s faithful dog. Years of struggle have passed to remain the person I was when I was in Cuba. The night I left the island was the hardest I have ever encountered in my life.
Probably the hardest thing I ever did … other than drive the Milwaukee road to Chicago when my mother decided that her daughter had been killed by a lesbian in her mirror. On my shoulder the old Fender Dad handed me along with a boat ticket to Havana and in my hand a backpack filled with quick memories of the life I had with my mother.
When I remember that moment in my life, I often approach him; for tropical storm with long legs, sea eyes and hair in the sun: Katya. The one that still causes me to steal every night, the same that gets in my bed like a ghost and leads me somewhere between sleep and awake. Sometimes when I write, it is like sitting in the back of our cabinet on the beach trying to spin the details and the sea behind it with Katya and her always problematic rotation without interruption, but let me know I was there.
At this time, I was wondering what Katya would say? Of course he told me, along with his thick Russian accent and his Russian, Spanish and English words, “Eat, just do what you have to do. Go to that point and show them who my Teresa Martínez is. ” strained, and now more than ever, I wish he was here. I wanted to see her bright white smile reminding me that everything would be fine, with no fear.
The thing is, it’s really a lot of fear. We don’t know what could happen, we don’t know how people will react, I have no idea how he, everyone who hears the radio record, is there. We don’t know if any of the covered protests of my songs will argue the invasion … we don’t know if they will follow us because we have a lot of gay and transgender women listening to a female farmer who is about thirty singing about right denied us. My hands were shaking, they were sweating and I could almost feel a panic attack on my chest.
I have always wanted to be different, to change the world with the power of my voice, which through my words hundreds and thousands of voices can be heard screaming to be heard. Now that it has finally arrived, I am freezing, June 1969 and the world is changing. I’m just not ready to dive.
Suddenly the sound of a knock on the door brought me back from the spiral where I had fallen; Almost immediately Sasha, my manager, and Shea, who introduced us, entered a room that appeared smaller and smaller. They both went from a fun show to a scary one. I looked in the mirror again and what I saw were my painted ornaments, I do not know when I started to cry. Sasha, Sweet and smart Sasha hugged me without even asking. That’s when I realized I can’t blame you … I can’t leave you. They help me so much here that I would be a worse person if I volunteered now.
He almost heard my attitude, he said I could still say no. As soon as I shake my head and try to look him in the eyes, I assure him it is just nervous and I will be ready when they call me on stage. Shea smiled at me, squeezing his shoulder a little, I knew he trusted me. A few minutes later they leave me alone and I start to remove all the damage to my makeup and paint it right.
When I finished the repairs, an assistant knocked on my door. Work must begin. I looked at myself again in the mirror, the eyes that turned to me seemed confident and determined, I focused on the blonde eyes in the mirror and thanks for a nice look at her beautiful curves covered in white cut feet and arms. . Trixie Mattel is ready to change the world number by number. I still feel a lump in my stomach, and I know something will happen, it is a feeling floating in the air.
Sunday night thoughts and Long Live to Freddie Mercury
So... I'm finally ready to post chapter five of Objects in the Rear View Mirror. Missy is doing the best job ever betaing and editing it, but being realistic: I don't think it will be fully written and edited before Christmas, so my little Craquameron's dad maybe won't get to know our love child.
Second I can't believe that note got a reblog, but seriously, you made my night by reblogging the incorrect twilight quote, so thank you a lot @teamlesbianbella
Third, I didn't wanna bitch about this but, what happens when your sincere admiration and shared positivity isn't appreciated? Well many writers complain about readers not giving feedback to creators. Now I look through the glass of the reader that had been supportive and is clearly ignored.
Writers around Tumblr: remember that your readers also need some attention and recognition from time to time. We also invest our time and effort keeping track of your work.
Finally, if you haven't gone to watch Bohemian Rhapsody, STOP WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING AND GO TO YOUR CLOSEST MOVIE THEATER TO WATCH IT. Rami Malek was perfection, the music is everything and it's good enough to make this hateful bitch shed some tears.
And remember: if you're gonna be a Queen, you'd better be THE QUEEN!
an intervening or interruptive period, space, or event
It’s early March and the weather is harsh, even by British standards. The road is hard, especially when you’re travelling in a bus full of crossdressers, sleeping in uncomfortable bunk beds thousands of miles away from home. They’ve been crammed inside the tour bus ever since landing at Heathrow. It would take them to their show in London, then they’d have to pack everything back into their suitcases to continue to the following city.
It seems to them that it’s already been hours since they climbed the bus and hit the road. Many are asleep, light snoring echoes throughout the narrow hallway.
For some queens like Asia, Kameron and Cracker, this isn’t anything new.They have been touring together for some time, as their managers booked them together for the UK tour leg. By this point the three queens are veterans and have gotten used to sleeping, even when standing, whenever they have the chance. Nina knew the tour would be tough on his body and even harder on his mental state.
Jetlag keeping him up, Nina lays wide awake on his bunk long after the show. He has nothing better to do than scroll endlessly through social media The music that plays from his earbuds, which claims to be ‘relaxing’. isn’t helping at all. It is almost four o’clock in the morning, and, according to his iPhone, late night in New York. Not even thinking, he clicks the button.
Monét is organic, both of them easily falling into conversation. They keep talking, their conversation soon muffled by the snoring of the other queens.
Monét is sleepy, his day off from work is nearing its end. He has a flight to catch early the next morning, heading for the south of the continent. They just do some small talk until Nina notices Monét falling asleep, the younger man unable to help the tiredness showing on his face. He had a thousand errands to run in the short time he was home. Nina smiles sweetly at him, a sympathetic smile being the last thing the other he sees that night. Monét wishes him a good tour and sweet dreams, Nina wishes him a good night and a safe flight.
The image fades to black on the screen, and Nina takes his earbuds off to put them safely inside case. A sudden noise catches his attention. He’s sure he hadn’t heard any of the girls in the other bunks make that kind of sound. Silky’s motorboat like snoring makes him lose focus. Nina shakes his head, sliding to the edge of the bunk to listen closer, then there it is again. Muffled sighs, and maybe something sounding sloppy and wet. Asia’s sleep talking makes the noises stop for a second and the bus drowns in the sounds of the road.
He saw some of the queens getting cozy and handsy after some drinks, so he couldn’t guess who was the perpetrator. It was well known that when they were on tour, the long travelling and the distance could make a queen feel lonely. Still, this was too early in the tour for them to get thirsty.
By the following morning, most of the girls are whispering and gossiping. Nina doesn’t really care about the details, what catches his interest is that Brooke’s name comes up. The girls talk, read and suggest increasingly unrealistic theories. Nina listens to each, trying to make sense of what he heard the night before. Above all, he wasn’t willing to risk his relationship with Brooke by asking something he’s not ready to discuss.
One thing is sure: Cracker and Brooke got closer, even though they try to fool everyone by sitting far apart everywhere they go. Sure, they banter and play with the others, but something between them has changed. Nina knows it, he can feel how the tension between them grows thicker the further apart they are from each other.
The night of Brooke’s birthday, the whole lineup goes out to party. They drink, they dance, they have a blast of a night off. And Nina can see it clear as day, how Brooke has spent time with each girl of the cast but always, always, ends up gravitating towards one of them. Maybe both of them are gravitating towards each other. A cute British boy, with dark hair and a couple inches shorter than Brooke is flirting with him. Returning from the bar, Cracker freezes at the sight of them on the dance floor. It happens in a millisecond. The beers in Cracker’s hands land with contented fury over the table, a forced laugh spills from his lips, and his face contorts into a smile faker than a three dollar bill.
Cracker excuses himself to the restroom. As he walks away his hands turn to fists in one of the most incredible displays of self control Nina has ever seen. Brooke seems oblivious to what happened until Cracker’s glacial dark brown eyes make him freeze. The cute boy is clinging to Brooke’s neck and he seems to realize what’s happening. At the table, Nina is the first to go after Cracker, the crowd of the bar hindering him when they recognize him and ask for pictures. When he breaks free and looks around again, the cute boy is standing confused at the edge of the dance floor and Brooke is nowhere to be seen.
Around half an hour later, Brooke bids everyone good night and leaves the bar. Cracker never returns from the restrooms. The rest of the girls stay at the bar for a couple more hours, then call it a night and head to the hotel. All the while, Nina’s been texting Brooke, who barely answered his messages. He’s worried. Brooke is one of his best friends and he’s almost sure he’s playing games with Cracker. That was, for sure, a very dangerous liaison. Cracker is friends with Vanjie, and Brooke is the guy who broke Vanjie’s heart despite loving him dearly. Because, Brooke is still in love with Vanjie, isn’t he?
All the answers to his questions come as soon as he arrives at his hotel room. He knows Brooke’s room is just beside his, and he wants to know if his friend is alright, leaving his own birthday party earlier than the guests isn’t his typical behavior. Nina stops in front of Brooke’s door and knocks. It’s ajar. A long sigh can be heard beyond the door.
“You said it wouldn’t happen again”, Brooke whispers, voice cracking in the last word, a sloppy sound muffled behind, then another voice.
“Then… happy birthday, and this is just the beginning.” Nina can’t recognize the voice, it’s so low that he can barely even understand the words.
The mystery finds an answer a second later, when Brooke whispers “Fuck… Max!”. Nina feels like a nasty Peeping Tom, so he carefully closes the door and returns to his room. He doesn’t sleep that night, wondering if he should talk to Brooke, or just play the fool and pretend nothing happened. He decides it’s better to keep his mouth shut and let Brooke speak for himself when the time comes.
Brooke never says anything. Time goes by and the tour comes to an end. They are all in Heathrow, luggage already registered and all saying their goodbyes while they wait for their flights to depart. Nina and Brooke are in the same flight back to LA for a viewing party the following day. Nina is looking for their gate when he sees them.
Cracker and Brooke are standing under the departures screen on the gate B36. The smaller man is holding his left arm with the right hand that crosses his chest, his messenger bag hanging loosely from his small frame. Brooke’s left hand is on the other man’s shoulder; his own a little shrugged. The last call to Cracker’s flight is announced and they look intensely into each other’s eyes, then hug and their lips collide in a kiss that looks both desperate and needy. Nina keeps walking and decides to keep that knowledge to himself.
Monét and Nina are texting, it’s a bit past mid April and they haven’t seen each other in a while. They’re both in opposite corners of the US and those messages have been a luxury they could barely afford. They’re catching up, and Monét casually comments that Brooke showed up in New York. Nina knows Brooke doesn’t have any bookings there, he actually just came back from Toronto and supposedly would take a couple of days off before flying again. Monét drops the subject and Nina is grateful, he doesn’t want to think of the things he heard or saw back in London. He doesn’t want to stir the pot.
Gigs come and go, Nina and Brooke join the last leg of the season eleven tour. It’s the final lap before pride madness. He can tell something’s changed. Vanjie and Brooke are in this final leg and they seem friendly. It’s not the kind of tense friendly that says something’s going on, but the kind of friendly that allow them to be comfortable around each other again.
Vanjie is dating someone else. He learns his name is Aiden, and can’t help but get infected by the Puerto Rican’s joy. His smile is authentic this time.
Brooke is all but bouncing off the walls, the heart of the party, cheering the happiness of his former lover. He’s sober and barely smoking, he dances, banters, and has fun.
He’s happy and Nina can’t help but feel the same for his friend. Another thing that has changed: even though Brooke has always been a flirt, he’s not looking for trade.
If there’s something in this world that Nina knows well, it’s that look on Brooke’s face. The shiny eyes, the goofy smile, the glow on his face when he furiously types messages on his phone. For the first time in over a year, Nina is scared.
He has seen Brooke fall in love as fast as his heart gets broken. He was there to pick up the pieces when Branjie went down. He spent long hours talking to a drunk Brooke on the phone. The Brooke that missed Vanjie but was scared enough to run away when everything got too serious. Nina knows. somehow this is a recipe for disaster and he can’t let his friend fall hard this time.
Rumours start coming and going about All Stars 5, the kind of rumours that put names on the board and tear others to the ground. One of those days, both Nina and Brooke are on one of those extremely rare days off on the final episodes of their season. They’re in Columbus and there’s a bunch of guys trying to snatch Brooke’s attention, and he’s dodging them like a pro.
Nina’s curiosity finally wins over and, not even thinking about it, pulls Brooke to their booth. It takes most of Nina’s efforts to finally get Brooke talking, reluctantly. They have a long conversation. He speaks about what happened in the UK, and how he feels being around Cracker. He says he wanted to surprise him by showing upon his birthday party. Still, Brooke is in clear denial, saying that they’re just exclusive in sex, that nothing’s happening between them aside the amazing sex they have. Nina wants to slap Brooke.
When the conversation is over Brooke has finally admitted he has feelings for Cracker, but he’s afraid to screw that up like he did with Vanjie. Nina tells Brooke that no one that’s not even a little bit involved in a relationship kiss someone that way in an airport gate. Nina would never admit that he knows that by his own experience, he would never admit that he was also falling hard in love.
June went by in a blink, then came July. Nina is exhausted, his schedule busier than ever, and he barely had time to properly make himself comfortable at home. He’s coming back from the Safari in Powell when something catches his attention. At his front door, sitting besides a small carry on and takeout from his favourite restaurant, is Monét.
They haven’t seen each other in months, and even if the facetime calls and the texts are regular, finally being face to face is something they’ve been craving for long.
Monét gets to his feet, his sore body grateful from the change of position. Nina touches his face, a wide smile spreading on his lips while he leans to kiss the other. Time stops for a second, then they break up the kiss, giggling like teenagers.
They end up tangled on Nina’s living room couch, barely covered by a fleece blanket and lazily making out after one of the best sex they’ve ever had. Monét stays for some days, and Nina feels like he really came back home.
Nina is in the shower the day it happens. Monét is scrolling down on Instagram when he finds a picture of Cracker totally melted on a very tall blonde man on the dance floor of a club. He has to re-read at least three times the comments to actually get what’s happening, he immediately calls his friend. The image on the screen confirming what he just saw on the pictures, and he let the lovebirds know they’ve been outed in social media, which makes Cracker wake up with a jolt, then, they hang up.
Monét runs to the bathroom, cutting Nina’s inspired performance of “A Whole New World.” Nina looks at him, concerned, cuts the water and reaches for his towel looking at Monét’s phone screen, a relieved laugh leaving his body. Monét looks at him, a big question mark on his face. Nina tells him he was there since the beginning, back in that tour bus in London.
A/N: I’ve started writing this more than a week ago, and posted it on AO3, somehow I forgot to put it here in AQ, so I’m bringing it back to where it comes from. Welcome again to another project and I hope you enjoy it. It’s still in progress, so please be a little patient with this person that barely remembers the date they’re living in.
Before starting your reading, I need to remind you I’m mentioning medications, anxiety crisis and another situations that can be triggering, so please, remember that before starting your read.
Finally, I want to shout for Artificial Meggie y Mistress for being angels and betaing this little thing.
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SMOKE AND MIRRORS
Scarlet was still high on the adrenaline of the finale taping, he was amazed by all the beauty and the light. He never thought he was going to be a part of it, he never thought that it would be so fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Most of all, he never expected to share the whole experience with the person he knew was THE ONE. His boyfriend, his girlfriend, his lover, his best friend, his partner in crime and over all, his chemistry lady.
Scarlet remembered with eerie precision the last words that Yvie told him on her last episode. “This is not over, you have to be strong and give your best, go up there and kill it… for us.” Sure as hell it wasn’t the best moment to talk to anyone, especially to someone who was about to walk through the set for the last time. But he did it, he went there and gave his best, all of her tricks, and best illusions. Even when it wasn’t enough to keep him on the race, was enough to buy the moment to look at her eyes while saying to HIM those last words: ‘and the feeling, is mutual’.
Weeks later, when all the madness finally ended and they were back to their somewhat normal lives, Jacob was sitting at his friend and drag mentor, Matthew’s place. They were pretending to watch a movie while talking about the race, at least as much as he was able to do due to the NDA, when his phone vibrated, alerted him of some YO [heart emoji]’s message. The next thing he remembered was packing a backpack and booking a flight to Denver.
The following months went by in a blur, Jacob smiling like a goof and Jovan feeling even younger than he was. If there had been a way to describe what they were feeling was utter happiness. Jovan was a man of few words, tender hands, and fast decisions, while Jacob was very vocal on how happy he was being together, and how much he loved him. Not much after the first I love yous, the younger one was packing his life in a container and moving to Brooklyn. ‘A man has to be sure of what he wants, and I want you… for as long as I breathe.’
A little flat and some closet adjustments later, they were starting a life together, either holding hands, sharing instant ramen trays or taking long walks in the nearby parks. They were happy, oblivious to the storms around them and the season that was about to premiere. Scarlet always kept those moments to himself, when there was no more than Jacob and Jovan, and the rest of the world was a blurry stain running around them.
She kept those moments for him, when they were apart, travelling and working hard as ever with both of their growing popularity. He also kept those moments to himself for when a bad day came and he had to fake a smile when her heart was shattering because he couldn’t do anything but give Jovan his pills and let him sleep until he felt better. All of that, leading them to this precise moment, when they were just a couple of weeks away from knowing if Yvie had won the season.
She treasured each time they held hands and every single kiss whenever they felt like doing it. More than ever when he was in the same room with the love of his life some meters away but unable to touch him. They both agreed on keeping a low profile. They knew what all that publicity did to Brock and Jose, and they didn’t want anyone messing around with something that was just theirs.
Scarlet was still high with the rush of the previous night’s lip syncs, with the party, with the two recorded crownings… he was high on the happiness of seeing Yvie smile like a child. What he wasn’t ready for was for the damned reunion, and all the drama they wanted to create around wounds that have opened and barely healed after one year. He wasn’t ready for the circus they’ve made around the scraps of Jose and Brock’s broken hearts. He wasn’t ready to listen to Ra’Jah puking bullshit to “apologize” to his boyfriend.
“Well I will apologize that she feels that in certain way, because I even apologized for Yvie…”
“I don’t think that’s an apology”
“That isn’t, that’s some bullshit”
They locked gazes for a second, a warning look from Yvie, a pissed off expression from Scarlet. He knew that even though Yvie was trying to compel him to stay out of the drama, the hurt in his eyes and the tears forming on the bottom line made Jacob lose it.
“You don’t apologize because someone is feeling on certain kind of way,” Scarlet said, still trying not to raise her voice.
“That’s some hurtful shit you said behind my back!” Yvie interjected, preventing the cataclysm of his boyfriend darting to Ra’Jah and force her to properly apologize.
“Can I finish what I was saying?” Ra’Jah demanded, annoyed and clearly suppressing the eye roll about to come.
“Absolutely… and you can direct it this way when you’re done with Yvie,” Scarlet commanded in a casual tone, that sounded more like a threat than a request, and the other queen had to apologize. None of them believed her crap, but still was in the light he was just stirring the pot for the sake of being a cunt.
As the argument grew, Yvie looked more upset, and one of her hands was shaking. Scarlet looked at Yvie worried, only stopping himself to run and soothe him with a warning look. “You know, just let it go, you’re clearly not up to own your shit, so an apology from you is as fake as my lashes,” Scarlet said, closing the argument, desperately looking for someone of the production to call for a break, which gladly happened before Ra’Jah could open her mouth again.
Yvie stood from his chair, walking unceremoniously to the back door of the theater, Scarlet trying to go after him and failing because both Plastique and Ariel stopped him. In a corner of the backstage, Vanjie and Brooke were whispering fast and and close to each other, soon going outside when Silky scolded Ra’Jah.
When Scarlet finally managed to excuse himself to the restrooms, he could clearly hear Vanjie and Brooke talking, both of them with cracked voices and even closer to each other. She couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve been if the show knew that also he and Yvie were together, and that everything started in the workroom. A cold wave went down her spine. They’d torn them apart, just like they did their friends, and a heavy weight fell on his stomach, making him feel sick.
He kept walking through the emergency door and the image he found there broke his spirits. Yvie was sitting on the emergency stairs, both his hands trembling and a pained expression in his face while trying to get back to his feet.
“Jovan no, please… let me help you.” Scarlet ran uplifting the green gown, leaving the heels behind while hurrying to help his boyfriend. “Come on baby, take my arm… how bad is it?”
The frustration on Yvie’s eyes was clear. He hated to feel weak, but the stress of the last forty-eight hours was getting the best of him, his body obviously starting to complain. ‘Seven,’ he finally mouthed. Scarlet opened her clutch dragging out a small pill box. “You need to take this babe, at least to finish the taping.”
Yvie nodded, as much as he hated the numbness that followed the pills, he couldn’t afford fainting in the middle of the reunion. “Will you sleep with me?” Yvie asked weakly, as all response, Scarlet pecked her lips… one thing was they were wearing the same shade of lipstick, and other totally different, was everyone noticing they got smudged. A smirk crossed her lips, and Scarlet looked at her puzzled, just to fake slap his boyfriend’s shoulder. They did make it through the rest of the reunion, with Yvie more reserved in the final stretch.
As soon as they reached the hotel room, Yvie almost collapsed on the bed. The effort, the stress, all that crappy discussion catching up with him leading to complete exhaustion. Scarlet made sure to wipe off his face, taking off his head piece and tucking panties, helping his boyfriend into his comfy sweats and no shoes. Only after he had taken care of Yvie did he wipe off his own face and de-drag. Eventually, a soft demanding groan from Yvie called him to his side.
Scarlet sat on the bed, comfortably resting his back on the headboard, while holding Yvie close to his chest. The slow breathing easily soothing the hurricane in his arms, he mumbled a lullaby and Yvie smiled with closed eyes. “Really babe? A lullaby?”
“Shhh! it helped me sleep when I was a kid, it has to work with you,” Scarlet said, kissing the top of his head and making him laugh. Yvie’s laugh soon diminished and slowly drifted to a deep sleep.
Scarlet looked at him, lightly brushing his fingers on the other’s forehead to clear the frown lines. She took in the musky scent of his skin, something she had grown accustomed to from the very first days of their relationship. Yvie was her personal miracle; the best award she could ever achieve. If there was something he will always be grateful for after all the effort that meant geting to Drag Race, it would always be him.
One of the things that had been a rough patch, were those bad days when no matter how many things he had to do, or what they have planned, Jovan just couldn’t get out of bed. The first time it happened, he was sure that Jacob would pack his bags and leave him.
“Be realistic Jacob, who would voluntarily sign for this? you know it will get worse right?” His voice was clear and neutral, but the pain on the back of his eyes was something beyond his hurting body. It was about longing, and loneliness and resignation. It was about knowing that he was sure that, at the end, it was going to be just him and the memories of what once was and would never be again.
Jacob said I do, and didn’t take it back, for once. He knew that everything they lived through and will endure together, will always be worth it. Jovan will always worth everything.
He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, what he actually found was that someone was having an argument just outside Yvie’s room. Carefully slipped from the bed, just to listen very clear Brock begging in a low voice that sounded more like the last cries of a dying beast. The other voice, husky and cracked, was Jose’s, who was just repeating I’m sorry and uselessly muffling his sobs with his hand.
As much as the situation was difficult, he couldn’t afford the risk of them waking Yvie, who was proven a light sleeper. He just was to make as if the door was getting opened, but that kind of things never happened to him. Instead of just unlocking the door, he hit his bare foot with the corner of the pillar, looking for support on the door knob that got the door open with the weight.
Brock shielded Jose with his body as a natural reaction, with a polite apology ready to fall from his lips if needed “I wanted some ice and then…” Scarlet started, when a soft grunt sounded from the deep part of the room.
“Babe? Jake where are you?” Yvie’s gruff voice, distinctive even when full of sleep.
Brock and Jose were shocked when they were able to see Yvie bare-chested and wearing sweats in his and Scarlet’s shared room. Scarlet pulled their friends inside, while a confused Yvie looked on. Shocked, Brock laughed nervously, while Jose peeked out from behind him. “What the…? You scared the shit out of us Scarlet,” face still red and starting to look somewhere else.
“I’m right here hun, just chewing out Branjie for disturbing your beauty sleep.” Scarlet said mocking their friends while closing the door behind them.
Love you to Death (Scyvie + others) - Vol. 2 - Saiphl
A/N: Here’s the second chapter and I hope you like it, please feel free to leave comments or contact me on my side blog @saiphl
@Mistressaq you really are the best beta ever.
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VOL. 2 - I’M DEALING WITH DEMONS LOVE, IT’S JUST A MATTER OF TIME…
Yvie forced herself to leave Scarlet sleeping. She forced herself to attend her sire’s call. The voice of her blood boiling through her veins with the urgent call of desperation.
She didn’t actually think before she bolted, running over rooftops, finding it easier to use her legs than trusting the traffic downtown. The house of her so-called mother rose up in front of her, more threatening than ever. For the people around it was a night like any other, with the usual rhythm of the silent house at the end of the street coming to life after the sunset. For Yvie and her sensitive hearing, the house was a beautiful symphony of chaos. She opened the heavy gate and casually walked to the door. A tall blonde bombshell was leaning on one of the columns unceremoniously smoking, Her baby blue eyes turned red for a moment while looking at her sister. “Let me guess… you overslept, right?” A sly smile spread her lips while she exhaled smoke. Even for a vampire, old habits die hard.
“Leave it alone Brooke… where is she?” Yvie looked at the other vampire defiantly. Brooke rolled her eyes and pointed with her face inside the house, which was barely open. Through the crack in the door they heard a high pitched voice roaring like thunder.
“You smell like her… Manila is so pissed she probably won’t notice, but I don’t think Raja will be merciful this time.” Yvie nodded in response, and Brooke laughed. “They almost killed her… she’ll never accept it, but she’s severely wounded” Brooke took another drag and then discarded the butt on the floor, smashing it under her pump. ”Naomi found her injured, disoriented and about to kill a mortal to escape. You know what it means, don’t you? Even if it was just a couple of streets from here she almost died… and she asked for you as soon as she regained composure.” Yvie nodded again, half mouthing a ‘thank you’. It took all of her willpower to not attack Brooke for looking at her with pity.
The door creaked when Yvie went inside, Manila’s loud voice filling the heavy atmosphere. “Where the fuck is Yvette? Call her until you get her, Naomi. And when the little brat comes here, she’ll have to deal with me!” A shiver ran down her spine. Manila had never been easy to cope with, but an angry Manila was something that no one was really prepared or qualified to deal with.
“I won’t call her Nila. It won’t be necessary. Just yell at her right now,” Naomi walked in slow motion, as if she had all the time in the world to just take a single step. Her limbs longer than the standard for even one of their kind, and the cruel smirk on her plump lips showed her already enjoying the torture to come. “The little brat is home… mommy.” Naomi said, faking an innocent tone. Manila growled, then sped down the stairs to face Yvie. Even though she towered over her sire, height had nothing to do with the fear of the raging bull Yvie was facing.
Strong as a bolt, Manila slapped Yvie across the face, the mark of her fingers blooming on the dark skin, and the scratch of her nails drawing thin blood lines that healed before they could actually bleed. “You left her… you never showed up… they almost killed her,” Manila hissed, threatening fangs on display and red eyes almost burning Yvie. “I don’t know what fucking game are you playing Yvette, but you better decide fast whose side you’re on. We can’t count on you anymore.” Manila slid her hand through Yvies exposed cleavage, making sure the sharp point of her poisoned nails cut the skin deeper than before, leaving blackish blood lines behind. “She’s waiting for you, and I hope she rips your heart out. Can’t wait to finally get rid of you and find a real member for this covenant.”
A sting of pain crossed Yvie’s chest, the scratches on her cleavage still bleeding, the skin on the sides of her wound a weird mixture between healing and rotting. A brief smile crossed her lips, sinking on the relief of that pain grounding her.
When she crossed the wooden doors, Raja was sitting on her vanity, her ethereal figure looking as beautiful and terrible as ever. “Again, Yvette? I can smell the shapeshifter on you.” Raja’s voice was calm, soft, a slight note of disappointment barely slipping through her words. “You can’t keep doing this baby, you know what you have to do to her.”
Yvie nodded, her mission was clear. It all happened less than a year before.
—
The covenant had been established in the city for almost five years, the neighbors fascinated with the gorgeous group of women living in the gigantic manor. Back then, there were seven of them.
Raja, the sire to all of them. Manila, her first creation and partner. Naomi the bratty little princess. Shea the beautiful and lethal huntress. Kameron and Brooke, the twins, were beautiful shiny trophies on Raja´s wall. Then there was Yvie, the youngest and the favorite.
The night when everything started, the gates of the manor opened to receive vampires from nearby cities and mortals, all gathered in a rampant party. A true voragine of sex, blood and decadence. No one knew there were other supernaturals present.
The faeries were never bold enough to risk their purity in mixing with the rough banality of the children of the night. The shifters had been in a weird kind of truce since the werewolves and the vampires agreed to coexist, as long as they never crossed each other’s territory. The hunters knew they were too weak to try to attack a place full of vampires; they were tough but not stupid.
Kameron was the first to spot them, all beautiful and hypnotic. Their graceful movements made them look ethereal, still the smell of shifter was present. They were different from wolves, their energy less hostile but equally predatory and dangerous. A short blonde with hair as wild as her nature was dancing with Kameron, a sequence of movements that seemed more primal than casual.
When they were close enough, Kameron and the blonde tangled on each other, a desperate need flowing through them, a struggle for dominance and pleasure. Falling for her instinct, Kameron bit the woman. It was short, precise, barely a sting of her fangs. The shorter woman jumped away, leaving deep claw marks on the waist of the vampire, who fell to her knees not even knowing what happened to her.
Shea was the first to lunge the blonde woman, who easily fell on her feet and bolted away from the vampire. Brooke bolted next, a fast streak of pure anger running behind the seven women that were fleeing the place, the fresh smell of vampire blood easy to track in the middle of the city night.
Three nights later, Brooke was back to the manor, hungry, exhausted, confused and showing signs of battle. She was disoriented and even though she perfectly knew why she left their nest, she couldn’t remember how she did to get back. In the other hand, Shea never came back. The last thing she could remember about her, was the terrible fight they’ve had with two of the shifters: a Panther and a Tiger, the marks of their claws still fading from the porcelain skin of the vampire.
Kameron was a whole other story, her wounded body difficult to treat and to heal, Raja and Manila spending long days and nights making sure their child will survive. Finally, her body started healing and even though she was ready to get back to the field, she hadn’t found the will to leave the bed she laid upon. Brooke was allowed to see her sister, their bond special even before the afterlife. The reaction immediate, as soon as the mixture of Brooke’s blood with the remnants of the shifter’s scent on her clothing and skin, made Kameron attack her twin sister in full force, with a power they’ve never seen in her before.
That was the night when Raja finally decided to cage Kameron away from the world. They didn’t know what happened to her, or what was causing such a violent reaction. Given that they lost Shea, they couldn’t afford getting killed one by one. The wounds in Kameron’s body may have healed and the wounds of her soul mended, but for them was clear that her mind changed and probably would never be the same.
That was the same night Yvie swore to find the haven of those shifters and kill them one by one… so she did and found them.But with them, she also found Scarlet.
—
“I know what you’re thinking Yvette… you can’t hide it from me,” Raja whispered, standing regally from her vanity. Claw marks half healed over her inhumanly beautiful face, scabby ridges breaking the velvety surface of her chest. “You made her fall for you, didn’t you? It’s been two centuries since I turned you and your mouth and fingers are still magic.” The tone of her voice softened, almost like the purring of a cat. “You like her… you want her, but you can’t my love. Her kind disrespected our home and cost us Shea and Kameron. THEY-CANNOT-LIVE!”
Yvie hadn’t felt cold in two centuries, but the sheer rage and pain in Raja’s voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew Raja was right, she knew that was the law… blood for blood, fang for fang. “What if I can keep her at bay?” She asked, not even stopping to think on her words. “What if she’s different? She’s not a part of the pack– She’s only with them because she has nowhere else to go.”
“Then bring me the head of the blonde that hurt Kameron, bring me the head of the one who keeps Shea away from her family.” Raja demanded, her temper flaring. “Bring those bitches to me, the panther, the tiger, the ocelot and the one missing… “ Raja started pacing around Yvie, as if she was chasing her. “Bring them to me, first. Then we’ll discuss mercy for your pet,” Raja spat. Anger, disgust and the disappointing pain of a mother filled her words with venom.
Love you to Death (Scyvie + others) - Vol. 1 - Saiphl
A/N: Hey guys, I’m back with another project that I’m not really sure why I haven’t posted here, anyways I hope you like my first real attempt of writing real smut, and what came after that. As y'all know, this is pure fiction just for the sake of my mind to keep working as it should, so it’s important for you to know that most of the supernatural clasifications and some of the different words I’m using on this story, come from the RPG games by White Wolf and Onyx Path for their World of Darkness tabletop games.
@Mistressaq you’re the best beta ever.
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LOVE YOU TO DEATH.
Vol. 1 - GIVE ME YOUR HEART MY LOVE, AND GIVE ME YOUR SOUL… I’D GIVE YOU MINE BUT I SOLD IT LONG AGO
She turned over herself on the sheets, her body starting to demand movement and stretching. Elongating the muscles of her legs under the covers, she allowed herself to enjoy the little cramp that threatened to take over her right calf. She opened her eyes, and started rotating her ankle and putting her foot en pointe, making it recede.
A deep sigh and the weight of a body moving by her side brought her memories of the previous night, helping her absorb the soreness of her own body. She slid from bed and walked to the window, the last shades of red and matte gold of the sunset tinted the horizon. She smiled, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. Recalling on the last years, the latest hookups not even interested in sharing the bed after ending the session. She never took them back to her place, no one deserved to be in her sanctuary.
Shifting her weight from the right to the left leg, the reminiscent pain of the cramp a reminder of everything that happened the night before. Taking a deep breath, she had to hold back a laugh, even her ribcage was sore. The light bouncing off her breasts making her feel the love bites and the nail marks on her skin. “Amazing…”, she whispered, turning her head to look at the soft curves painted under the covers of her bed.
The angle of her waist and the curve of her hips the most delightful sins she had ever laid hands on. A tide of long red hair sprawled on her pillows. Scarlet was exquisite, a creature that would always amaze her. The slender arms, the most delectable pain she’ve had in a long time, her lips the perfect mixture of rage and tenderness. Yvie knew that having just race and love war in common, sleeping with her was a risk. One she was more than eager to take.
For Yvie, pain had been a constant throughout her life. From the peculiar condition of her body, going through rigorous ballet training, and finally, to the night when Raja found her and with one bite changed her life forever.
Now, considering her recently discovered passion, she would never disrespect pain by calling it a kink.
It all started so suddenly, out of pure innocence and what her sisters called a nasty habit of playing with her food. She loved the struggle, the rush of her victims adrenaline running through her veins, said victims trying their hardest to resist her assault. Yvie was more than willing to make them think they stood a chance, getting some bruises that took more time to shape on her dark skin than the time they took healing. Most of all, the sheer pain running through her body as waves of relief reminded her of the soft condition of her former human body and the strength of her vampiric condition.
It made her feel powerful yet vulnerable, and she loved it.
Not even noticing her motion, she went to the full length mirror on the wall. The bruises on her body, darker spots spread throughout her skin, made her smile spread instantly . That was her first coil, perfected and proudly displayed as fading hunting trophies. She touched an open bite on her ribs that was still bleeding, a soft hiss escaped between gritted teeth. then she wiped her own blood with a slender finger and licked it clean.
“I’m sorry”, a soft raspy voice whispered behind her while two pale arms surrounded her waist. The warmth of Scarlet’s bare skin blending to perfection with the coldness of her own aroused her immediately. “I promise to not bite that hard next time.” The redheaded woman breathed, making her hardening nipples brush a scratch on Yvie’s back.
“Don’t make promises you won’t be able to keep, baby,” Yvie said, turning her head to look at the girl leaning her head over her own shoulder. “I knew what I was signing up for when I brought you home.” All of a sudden, Yvie turned on Scarlet’s embrace, leaning her head to kiss her lover, their hands quickly finding their way over the body of the other. “And you know I like it,” Yvie added, whispering on her lover’s lips.
Playfully, Scarlet sucked and bit her lower lip, eliciting a grunt from her. “This is wrong on so many levels,” Scarlet said, pulling Yvie closer. “If my pack knew, we’d be dead now.” A sarcastic laugh made them both shiver.
“I dare them… if it means I can spend more days fucking you, it’s worth it.” Yvie digged her nails on Scarlet’s tender flesh, the body of the shapeshifter as sore and bruised as her own. Scarlet hissed at the sensation, vampire claws were never tender to the skin of a Qualmi, and she couldn’t care less. Even though their natures forced them to be natural enemies, they always used that little cringe to their favor.
Scarlet pulled her even closer, her eyes starting to reflect the night light coming from outside, making them look like mirrors in the dark. “I want you Yvie… so bad it hurts.” Yvie grunted again in response, now sliding one hand to cup her perfect little ass, and the other finding its way to her sex. Slender fingers skilfully spreading folds in the most delectable way, making the redhead purr in bliss.
Yvie kissed her, allowing herself to draw thin bloody lines with her fangs on her way down her neck and shoulder. The scent of her blood driving her crazy, barely keeping control of her instincts. Scarlet mewled in pain, the skin of her back starting to show the spots of her fur. Amber engulfing the ice blue of her eyes. “Easy baby, I don’t want to kill you.” Yvie whispered, making the shapeshifter shiver, a wild grunt escaping her throat in response.
Scarlet captured her lips once again, drowning in lust her primal instinct claiming to kill the vampire whose fingers were now moving inside her. “Say it…“ she asked, the vampire holding her, laughing at the tone.
“No” Yvie said adamantly, knowing for sure that it’ll confuse her. Scarlet looked at her, rage starting to make her eyes bloodshot.
“Say it!” she demanded now, her voice deep as the thunder of a snow storm. Yvie felt her skin bristle, the primal creature in her arms working her up not even touching her.
“No” she answered, thrusting faster inside her, making the girl in her arms grow desperate. Scarlet roared.
“Say it!” she demanded one last time, now biting her until the blood thread dripping from her neck blended with the one now smeared on their skins.
“Make me.” Yvie challenged, using the hand on Scarlet’s ass to pull her leg up around her own waist, and getting her fingers even deeper inside her. Scarlet hissed and dug her claws on the small of Yvie’s back. Suffocating in a desperate kiss the acute howling of her lover and grinding her pussy against the hand fucking her.
Scarlet looked at her, a plea sparkling in the back of her eyes. “I’ll kill you” she grunted, her skin now looking more and more like the lynx she was.
“You won’t… and you know why?” Yvie teased, licking her neck. “Cause if you kill me, you won’t have this.” She thrusted harder into the redhead’s sex, making her exhale sharply. “I need you conscious and alert while I eat you out, I need you awake to howl my name.” Scarlet shaking, barely holding herself back from ripping Yvie’s head off. Instead, she bit her shoulder and the vampire hissed in bliss.
Claws digging deeper on Yvie’s skin, driving her to the edge of madness. The smell of blood assaulting her nostrils, her eyes now red, and the hammer of Scarlet’s pounding heart a chaotic symphony keeping her in the agony of the craving.
Suddenly, Scarlet spinned with a wild growl, pushing Yvie to the wall, still grinding against the vampire’s hand. “More” she demanded, sniffing her neck and licking the dripping blood of her shoulder. Yvie’s hand thrusting even faster, the movement almost a vibration that made the Qualmi come before she could’ve even thought of it.
Yvie took her hand out, licking both cum and blood. She licked the remnants off, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. She was high on lust and the blood of her lover, a rush she could never, ever trade even for the most violent battles. Scarlet was hers, hers alone, and she would make sure everyone could see it, the bruises and dark spots over the pale canvas of the werelynx body marked her as Yvie’s property.
Scarlet lowered her leg trying to steady her balance, though her legs still trembled and her senses remained attentive to the surroundings. The broken moan of the vampire snapped her attention back to the woman in front of her. The game had started.
Silent as her own kind, Scarlet jumped to the chair in front of the vanity. Crouched on the surface, she licked her lips, the fresh taste of vampire blood making her purr in anticipation. Yvie started touching herself, cursing under her breath because it was her hand and not Scarlet’s. Yvie caressed her bruised body, hissing and moaning with the sheer pleasure of the pain running through her skin. The Lynx attacked.
Falling over her and covering her body, they rolled over the floor. Yvie panted and Scarlet growled, the beating of her heart getting the other impatient. With strong claws, Scarlet pinned Yvie’s arms over her head. The feline fangs showed through her parted lips, threatening to rip the other’s throat with just a tiny bite. Yvie looked at her straight in the eye, amber and red sparkling with the predator’s gleam.
Scarlet sniffed and licked the body of her lover, wiping away the blood and letting the newly forming bruises show up on her dark skin. Grunting and purring with each attempt of the vampire to break free. Biting whenever she misbehaved according to her appreciation. Eliciting soft hisses and moans from the woman beneath her. She finally released the other’s arms, descending to the soft mound between her lover’s legs. Gripping her waist with both hands, she started sniffing, licking and biting her. Skilfully scratching with her fangs and cleaning the cut with her tongue.
“Say it”, Scarlet asked once more,lost on the taste of Yvie’s blood. “Say it or I’ll kill you”, she pleaded, knowing she won’t be able to hold it back for much longer. “Please, say it!”
“No… I want you here with me”, Yvie said, barely remembered the reason to keep denying her petition. A hard bite on her inner thigh brought the thought back.
“I don’t want to hurt you”, Scarlet whispered against her mound, just to bite down on her folds and making Yvie scream. Sooner than expected, Yvie wrapped her legs around Scarlet’s neck, pressing hard enough to make her choke. The muscles of the werelynx tensing to resist and making her finally jump, leaving a trace of blood dripping from her mouth. Yvie looked at her, jumping to get back on her feet, ready to catch the feral beast in front of her. Scarlet came at her prey, red filling her peripheral view.
Yvie caught her, gripping an arm and her neck to keep her steady. She would not to let Scarlet bite her again. “Sito Tkaè.” Yvie said, releasing her grip on Scarlet’s body, the cat easily fleeing to hide between the wall and the bed.
Curled over herself, Scarlet looked at Yvie, feeling small, confused and lost. The taller woman kneeled to wrap her in a soft embrace. The werelynx shivered, the dark spots of her fur quickly disappearing from the surface of her porcelain skin. “Come on baby let’s take you to bed… this was too much.”
Yvie lifted Scarlet as easily as if she were light as a feather, then put her back on the bed, covering the both of them with the blanket and holding onto her tightly. Scarlet soon drifted into a restless sleep. Yvie felt anxious, her instinct screaming at her that something was wrong, her head demanding to stay there, and her blood calling clear and strong.
Somewhere outside the four walls of Yvie’s flat, another battle was happening, a battle that already had taken lives from both sides. A black panther fleeing in panic, two little cougars fallen on the asphalt and a tiger still fighting a tall woman with greying hair. One more hit and Raja screamed in her mind “Yvie!”
Perfect Places... a simple song turn to a symphony (Ninex) - Saiphl
Hello again here I go again with a new project, this time is a little present for @fandomfeministe shaped as a tribute to her Miz Crooke universe, thanks for all the hours and the inspiration for this spin off.
I also want to thank mollyroll from the discord sever, @mistressaq, @pink-grapefruit-cafe and @artificialmeggie for all the support, the love and the incredible work you all did betaing this first chapter, you all are the true best.
Hope you all enjoy the ride and let me know what you think.
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PERFECT PLACES... A SIMPLE SONG TURNED TO A SYMPHONY.
Adagio. The Sun and the Moon.
Meaning a slow tempo or slow speed.
Nina and Monet have known each other for a long time, longer than their seasons on Drag Race. Longer than the comings and goings of their friends and drag families. Longer than the spaced beats of their own lives They’ve shared gigs, drinks, and more than one party night crashing on each other’s couches when the tips were bad, and the budget was low.
They were drag queens, they knew what meant to depend on a boy job to actually pay the bills and support the expenses of pursuing their art. The good part of being starving artists was that you’ll find solidarity and support wherever you go. You’ll make a friend out of shared cheap takeouts and beers in a dressing room. The bad part was when they had to say goodbye until the next time they coincided.
Monet couldn’t really recall the time he and Nina became friends, but he liked to think it was somewhere between one time they shared a futon at some queen’s place and the last time they went together on Columbus Pride. Thing was, the day he received the call for Drag Race, he didn’t even realize what he was doing until the voice on the other side of the phone belonged to a groggy Nina instead of the bubbling impatience of Bob’s.
Nina wasn’t much of a seamstress, but he always gave good advice to his friend for some of the outfits. He knew exactly what to say when the stress of almost being there was taking the best out of Monet. The last thing before Monet’s phone went silent for more than one month and a half was a reassuring voice message where Nina wished him good luck.
Time passed by and out of one of those very rare moments in life, they found each other in a city that wasn’t even Columbus or New York. They spent the whole evening catching up. Relentlessly talking about everything and nothing at the same time, sharing a small tray of fries and most of all laughing. Something easy and domestic about being around each other, as if it hasn’t been months since the last time they spoke.
Monet had a very particular way to define his friends. There was of course Bob, the big goof with a loud mouth, a smart mind and a huge heart; his momster. Then came Cracker the quiet Jew that sparked his curiosity since the very first time they met, unable to understand how such a creative person could get that dark in the bat of a lash; his little sister. Dusty was totally different story, he was a boy that wore the fragility of his spirit on his sleeve, he usually said they were sisters, but he saw him more as a daughter.
In a whole different corner, there was Nina, who gave him the space and clarity he needed to ease the noise in his own mind. He was Monet’s White Room, the place he felt safest.
Nina, as the natural caretaker he was, was always surrounded by people. Some of them, his protégées, some of them friends for that part of the road, a few others the friends of a lifetime. Nina loved, but mostly respected Virginia, his drag mother, the one who showed the way and put him on it. Then all the other Wests, including his sisters and daughters, those who proved to have a heart as big as Nina’s and a love for the people that granted them a place. Following closer was Brooke Lynn, the giant Canadian queen who came to America looking for a dream and stumbled his way to it; there was a time when Nina was a little infatuated with the tall queen, but with time, that infatuation became an honest friendship.
On the same level, but in a different place, was Monet, the honest, chill and silly queen that never hesitated to share anything in front of him, the one that usually found a way to bring him back to earth when his mind went out of control.
The following year, Monet took Nina’s call, he was in tears, babbling nonsense about drag, three weeks and having nothing to wear. He was going to the race. They spent a good total of three and a half hours on the phone, finally cutting the call because Virginia was about to take down his door by the lack of response. Three weeks later, Monet left two voice messages, one wishing Nina good luck… the other, the one that never made it to its destination, saying “Go Big, Go West.”
They don’t speak much in the following months, the rush, the exhaustion and the elimination that tasted more as an excuse than really a reason to end his path, make Nina seclude a bit on himself. Going back to his usual life, the performances in Columbus, the new causes to fight, the people needing him were the best coping method to get back to his feet. He’s invited to host a fundraising event in New York, and without hesitation he accepts.
Monet is bored when his phone buzzes; he doesn’t really want to answer, until the name on the screen makes him react with a jolt.
They finally meet in the baggage claim area of JFK, Nina drops his bags and Monet hugs him, nothing needs to be said, just being close was enough. One of those that say “I’m happy to see you,” “I’ve missed you,” “I survived,” “I’m proud of you” in the few seconds that it lasts.
It starts really casual, some small talk, random comments about the stress of the race. Nothing that can really interfere with the signed NDA. They haven’t seen each other in a long time and all they want is to have a good time and relax. They’re sharing a tray of chicken nuggets when Monet receives the call, the one that puts him in All Stars. He says yes and then collapses on Nina’s shoulder, the anticipation and the rush taking the best of him.
Nina clears his schedule to stay with him, to help him get back on his feet and to build at least, Monet’s entrance outfit. They spend Three days together, relentlessly theorizing about everything and nothing. Playing names, challenges and even plot twists that are as ridiculous as being awake at 4 a.m., discussing why he shouldn’t wear sponges… ever again. They’re falling asleep over a table full of fabrics and sequins when first considers asking Nina to be his emergency contact.
The next months go by in a blur. All Stars 4 airs and with an unfortunate turn of events, the front runner gets eliminated. In another unexpected plot twist, the first ever tie for the title happens, giving both Trinity and Monet a crown. Nina would never admit how proud he felt when he saw Monet prancing with that crown. Monet would never accept that he forced himself to answer Bob’s call and Cracker’s toast instead of calling Nina.
Nina calls Monet the next day, after noon, apologizing in case he interrupted his sleep. Monet would never tell he was more than happy to hear him. Monet would also never tell anyone how his stomach clenched and his heart stuttered when Nina said “I knew you could do it.” They try to find a space to meet and catch up, to celebrate his victory, but Nina is already busy with the upcoming Season 11 promotion. They text and FaceTime when they feel like it, sometimes for silly things. Sometimes because Nina is spiraling down with anxiety and only Monet knows how to bring him back to earth.
It’s the middle of April when their schedules coincide again at an event somewhere in Boston. Nina is performing and Monet goes to the show, finding the surprise endearing. They leave the venue together, going to a 24-hour diner. They laugh, they cry, they start talking again and then share a tray of cheap fries and grilled cheese. When the food is gone and time has passed, they walk together, pulling Nina’s carry on and still talking. When they finally stop in front of the hotel doors, it's the first time they fall silent that night. Nina smiles, and Monet looks at him like he hung the moon in the sky and single-handedly placed each star in its place.
That’s the first time it happens.
Nina wants to hug him, just for the sake of making sure that night was real.
Monet gets closer, the contact with Nina's body fills him with relief.
Nina wants to thank him for everything, but something’s changed, and he can feel it, he can feel him breathing.
Monet leans to kiss him, as if it is the most natural thing, as if they have done that a million times.
The first kiss is brief, soft, barely a tender brush of their lips.
Nina breaks the contact and they awkwardly look at each other, then avert their gazes.
Monet says good night, he’s trying to turn around to leave, but now is Nina who kisses him.
This time the kiss lasts longer, is equally tender, and most of all magical.
That’s a night of firsts, their first kiss, their first time holding hands. The first time Nina went back to his room with a friend instead of trade. The first time Monet felt his heart skip a beat when the lift dinged on the right floor. The first time they feel brave enough to make a move, but too shy to be the first to look at the other when they get naked.
The sounds of the city and the sunlight wake them up. Their tangled bodies one of the most inspiring things Nina have ever seen. Groggy and husky morning voices the sound that Monet would always cherish. They’re sore, tired, sated, and still too confused to define what they feel when they step out of the bed.
Once again time plays against them, and Nina has to rush to the airport. He barely has time to catch his flight to Columbus. Monet wants to talk to him about that night. His curiosity piquing and the itch to keep touching Nina digging deep into his mind. When their Uber reaches the airport, Nina looks Monet in the eye. He wishes he could say something… anything. Monet cradles his cheek, already feeling longing in the way he leans into his hand They share one final kiss. It’s neither sweet nor bitter; it tastes a bit like regret, and a lot like longing.
Nina boards his flight, with the taste of Monet’s lips lingering on his mouth.
Monet watches him go, with the feeling of a hole growing in his chest.
May comes to an end, so does season eleven. They all are gathered in the dressing rooms of the theater in downtown. It’s been a month and a half since the last time they spoke. Nina knows deep inside he misses Monet, but wouldn’t know where to start if he sees him face to face. Monet knows they’ll meet at one point, knows for a fact that he will talk to him… in front of at least four cameras and hundreds of people watching them.
Nina is cooling his face with a fan, the infamous heat of the City of Angels antagonizing with his freshly made face. He’s moving behind Vanjie while he films “Can I Assssssk You a Question?”, going back and forth in only his tights, pads and breast contour. Vanjie moves away from Brooke Lynn, and Nina stays behind with his friend. He knows they’re not alright, he knows Brooke probably will never be alright again. They whisper brief words, coded just for them to understand. That’s the moment when Aquaria and Monet arrive.
Monet’s loud and infectious laugh fills the place, sending shivers down Nina’s spine. Aquaria keeps talking, missing the moment when their eyes met. Nina smiles nervously, Monet looks at him as if he was trying to memorize his face. They could swear it lasted hours, especially when Nina got lost on Monet’s plump lips; but it wasn’t more than an instant that’s gone once they avert their gazes once more.
The New York girls gather together, and it’s like a party. Nina looks at Monet from her mirror, no one would blame him for looking at a reflection in the mirror. Monet laughs again, pulling Shuga into a hug, then looks straight to the mirror, the same mirror where Nina is looking at him. They lock gazes, the laugh filling the place leaves his eyes, a shadow of doubt clouding Monet’s eyes. Nina nods almost imperceptibly and Monet gravitates towards him. They greet, they banter… they stay too long and yet so short in a hug that says just a tiny part of what they need to say.
Nina gets dressed.
Monet starts doing his face.
Nina smiles shyly when Monet looks at his cleavage.
Monet hides his blush with contour and foundation when Nina winks at him.
They don’t talk more, at least not about what have happened before.
Brooke Lynn notices his friend’s expression, poking once, twice, thrice. Nina doesn’t give an inch and they have to officially arrive to the theater’s pink carpet. Nina would never say how grateful he was for the PA calling for him.
Aquaria notices Monet looking through the mirror when their season eleven sisters leave. Monet would say that Brooke Lynn’s ass looked perfect in that white gown, and Aquaria would buy the lie just to make his friend feel nothing had changed. Monet would never admit that Nina’s printed see through ass just made him thirsty for the real one hidden under the fabric and padding.
When RuPaul announces Monet and her task of revealing who was the new Miss Congeniality, Nina’s hands started sweating. He also could feel his heart skip a beat when that stunning man appeared on the stage, wearing nothing but a pussycat black wig, and that gown that fitted him like a glove. The experience of hearing his name falling so effortless from his painted lips was surreal to a point he never expected.
They hug, and it’s brief. A hug that tastes like nervousness, longing, and being unable to move. Monet hands him the golden RuPaul; Nina takes it still wondering if this isn’t a joke. The warmth in his hazel eyes says it isn’t. Monet wishes the moment could last longer, he wishes for it to be just them and kiss all the hesitations away from him.
Two weeks later, destiny puts them together once more. The crowning party, the rush of Yvie winning, the magic of one night in San Francisco.
Nina is having a drink at the bar.
Monet spots him like a target.
Nina feels that well known electricity running on his body.
Monet smiles like a predator finding his prey.
They finally look at each other, and for the first time in forever, no one is looking at them, no one is pulling them apart.
Monet leans to his ear, whispering sweet nonsense.
Nina blushes feeling as alive as a teenager.
Monet reaches for his hand to kiss it.
Nina just pulls him away from the party.
They barely make it to Monet’s hotel room.
Early in the morning, they wake up absolutely conscious of being together. Nina smiles to him, tracing lines over the dark skin with a finger. Monet closes his eyes, feeling inebriated with the sensation. They both needed that, the little moment of reassurance, and the realisation that no matter what had happened in Boston, or just the night before, they will be fine. They don’t feel the need to talk, as they get dressed and go somewhere close to find some breakfast.
Nina leaves San Francisco two days later, when his contract requires for him to be in LA for the last rehearsals of the tour. There are no promises, no longing or regret, just two friends saying goodbye and see you soon.
Monet stays there until Nina goes through security check. They keep waving at each other like excited kids on Christmas morning; they wave until Monet can’t see Nina anymore. That’s the moment when Monet understands he is in love… with Nina.
Smoke & Mirrors (Scyvie/Branjie) - Part 2 - Saiphl
So… this took longer than I expected, but I’m back with the second part of this thing, I think it’ll last two or three more parts, but until I find out, I hope you enjoy the ride.
Again, I wanna thank Mistress for being the absolute angel she always is and betaing this second part.
Finally, this came more angsty than comforting, but, it’s Branjie, so you know it couldn’t be other way.
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Part 2. Taming all the noise inside my mind, aiming for perfection all the time
Vanessa was nervous, the moment he had feared for almost a year had finally come. She wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to actually face how the show, the timing and their own immaturity tore them apart. The night he’s got Brooke’s call, he was tempted to not pick it up, he wanted to ignore it and let his phone vibrate. He didn’t.
When Brooke knocked on her door coming from the airport he felt his heart skipping a beat. The same effect he once got as something good, now coming to be incredibly painful. It was something between them, one of them knocking the door, the other opening it with a cool face and a heavy weight on their bellies. The newcomer getting inside, and then everything going wild after the door clicked shut.
Brooke was kissing Vanessa greedily, with an urgency that tasted like longing and desperation. Then, the void on their chests growing heavy once they got apart, but this time was different, Brooke held him close, a possessive grip around the shorter man’s waist. Vanessa sighed, the familiar dizziness that followed one of his kisses clouding his mind. Brooke leaned to softly kiss Vanessa’s forehead, no words needed to explain what had just happened, a thousand more left untold, attempting to crush the fragile balance they’ve built after the break up.
“I’m sorry”, Brooke whispered.
“No… please don’t, we needed that”, Vanessa answered, closing his eyes and leaning his head on Brooke’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s sit down,” he suggested, pulling Brooke to the closest couch, where they silently fell clinging on each other.
Brooke distractedly draw erratic patterns on Vanessa’s back, more to soothe himself than to comfort the other. Feeling that soothing proximity was something they craved more than they were really open to accept they needed. “I… just couldn’t wait.” Brooke’s voice just a doubtful whisper, his body vibrating in response to have Vanessa cuddled on his lap. “We have so much to talk about, so much to discuss… all of this is-”
“Too much, I know, the questions, the intrusion. I can’t, I just can’t keep pretending.” Vanessa said, snuggling closer, starting to feel inebriated with the scent of his skin. “I’ve missed you so much, hurts so bad, Brock… so painful, and we know there can’t be something else.”
Brooke gasped, then took a deep breath. He pulled Vanessa closer to him, still trying to find his voice. “Jose… I’ve got you back in that hotel, you’ve got me when everything was falling apart.” He cleared his throat, and kissed Vanessa’s temple. “I’ve missed you too… I’m done missing you all the time.” He pushed him a little, just to be able to look him in the eye. “I love you too, and I came here to get you back… we can try to make it work but we need to get rid of all that people nosing around.”
“What in your mind?” Vanessa asked, rearranging his position to look at Brooke.
“We tell them the truth… that we’re not together.” The words falling from his lips in a waterfall, while he listened to the idea. He was not convinced at all, but nothing made sense since the last time they’ve spent a night together. “Then we play the card of leaving an open door, but just for what concerns the show.”
Vanessa nodded lightly, still pondering what he said. “Let’s just… tell the truth, we can… we’ll figure everything else out after the damned finale and the fuckin’ reunion.” Brooke tightened the hold on the other man, his only relief, the scent of his dark skin.
‘Are you two still a couple?’ Vanessa twisted his lips, refusing himself to answer the question.
Disappointed, RuPaul then directed the same question to Brooke. ‘No, we’re not…’
The general gasp of their sisters wouldn’t make it to the final cut, that was sure. What was going to be there, was the uncomfortable expression from Nina and the dirty looks from A’keria and Silky. Also all the theories about them faking their relationship for the cameras, and how Brooke will take every single drop of guilt on his insecurities and fears.
‘Do you want to get back together?’ RuPaul asked, and both Vanessa and Brooke were caught out off guard. They knew they had to answer and they also knew that, the wrong words would, in fact, be used against them.
‘I’m not gonna say never… Like I still have feelings for you and you, I know you still have feelings for me.’ Vanessa nodded to Brooke’s words, the longing in the way they were looking at each other crystal clear. ‘And as long as we always have love for each other, anything is possible in future.’ The hug and the peck following all that circus was the reaffirmation Vanessa was looking for, and she was actually impressed of going back to her place with her legs wobbling on those six inch heels.
What followed the reunion, was something neither Brooke or Vanessa would really remember. Both of them still trying to regain composure and control over their shaking bodies. The same electric stream running through their bodies, threatening to expose what they half spoke the night Brooke arrived to LA. The second that production cut for a break, Vanessa stepped out his chair not even knowing where he was going, Brooke following his tracks.
Barely keeping the pace of the puerto rican, Brooke finally stretched to reach him by the arm. “Vanessa wait”, his voice breaking a little. “C’mon, talk to me, you know you can tell me anything.” Vanessa finally looked into his eyes, the pain reflected on them broke Brooke’s heart. He held his hands on his own, tightening the hold and channeling on it the hug he wanted to wrap him with.
A stream of tears fell freely down Vanessa’s cheek, drawing a clear line on the makeup. “I can’t… I just can’t…” Brooke kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally landed a short peck on his lips. “This will break us Brock, the second they know, we’re fucked!” Desperation flooded his cracked voice. “I can handle your issues, your fears… even my insecurities and the distance, but not them tryin’ to catch a glimpse of this… of us.”
“It’s done, they won’t have a clue… they won’t figure it out if we’re careful.” Brooke whispered, leaning closer to Vanessa and tucking a strand of her wig behind her ear. “I can handle this Jose, I can handle you and me, and all of this… but that can only happen if you’re willing to really try.” The sound of a hurried pair of heels running down the hallway of the backstage made Brooke to shield Vanessa from any other sight. Scarlet passed by their side barely looking at them and going straight to the back door of the theater.
Vanessa looked again to Brooke’s eyes, the sadness in the background making him look even smaller. “Need to go, gotta leave this place.” The desperate whisper making Brooke wrap the other with his arms, the cape of his attire almost covering from one side.
“We’ll go soon, this is about to be over baby” Brooke said to his ear, and the other man sighed deeply. “We just need to keep going and we’ll be released, then we’ll go back to my hotel, and finish our talk.” Brooke’s voice got even lower, they couldn’t risk to be heard. “C’mon baby, just one more and we’re done.” Brooke kissed Vanessa one more time, and then parted ways, Brooke back to the stage, Vanessa going to the restrooms to fix his face.
Vanessa was the first to leave the theater, just taking off the wig and the outfit and putting on a hoodie to run out just in time to catch his Uber. Not even Silky and A’keria said a word, they knew how hard it had been for Vanessa. They knew how heartbroken and empty she’d been feeling since she and Brooke decided to break up. They even shielded him while he left.
Nina on the other hand, silently stood by Brooke, watching him closely while he meticulously got out of drag and packed what turned him into the gorgeous blonde bombshell that danced on the stage. When they finally ended de-dragging, Nina looked at Brooke, concern and sorrow reflected on his gaze. “Are you ok? What a stupid question, I know neither of you are.” Nina said, landing a hand on Brooke’s shoulder.
Brooke shrugged just to look back at his friend. “The best part of all this, is that it’s over, I don’t think I could handle another question… all of this is just breaking what’s left of us.” Nina wrapped his arms around Brooke, who finally let himself to cry a bit. “I can’t handle how hurt he is, it’s even more painful than that night…”
Nina nodded once, of course he remembered that night. The night when they fell down the infinite spiral of sorrow they were trying to climb out of. “Go to him, you have a lot to talk about.” He said into Brooke’s ear, the canadian immediately nodding to those words. He broke the embrace and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. A tiny somber smile that didn’t reach his eyes parted his lips. Brooke left.
Jose entered to Brooke’s room with the key card he slid into his pocket back in the theater. He couldn’t help but smile slightly. They’ve learned to exchange the keycards of their hotel rooms back in the filming time, when everything was new and had the taste of adventure. He remembered those as the good times of their relationship, when everything was sweet and bright, and they were so infatuated that keeping hands to themselves was a true achievement.
The room smelled like him, like his vanilla shampoo and his aftershave lotion. He never thought that he would miss the cigarette smell, but that note being lost left him feeling a little odd. The scolding spring sunlight languidly caressed the cheap carpet on the floor and he went straight to the window to let the air in. He closed his eyes and the weight of his 301’s reminded him that Vanessa was still there. Reluctantly he walked back to the bathroom, the makeup on his face suddenly too heavy to wear.
A soft knock sounded on the door and Jose ran to open it, his hair damp and now the mixture of their aftershaves filled the air. Brooke stared at Vanessa just to exhale the breath he didn’t knew was holding. He rushed inside, and the door locked behind them. This time, it was Vanessa who took the other by assault, kissing and touching him like he was trying to convince himself Brooke was real. The taller man held him closer, and buried his nose on the mess of his hair. He missed that so much, he missed the soothing and safe sensation that having his scent close gave him.
Before they could even think about it, they fell on the bed. A living mess made of limbs and sloppy kisses, the contrast of Brooke’s fair skin with the beautiful golden tone of Vanessa’s creating the most beautiful collage ever seen. Their hardness grinded on each other’s begging to find release. A loud groan surged from Brooke’s throat, the one that brought Vanessa back to the moment. Back to all the things he thought and promised to tell once he was ready. “I love you,” the only one slipping from his lips, making Brooke to look him in the eye.
“I love you more…” Brooke answered in a chuckled whisper, the friction in the right part of his body threatening to make him forget what he wanted to say. “And I’m gonna regret this in a couple of hours, but that is why we need to talk.” He forced himself to separate from Vanessa and refocus on the conversation. A whine escaped Vanessa’s lips and then, stealing one more kiss, he untangled himself from the other man’s body.
Vanessa looked at Brooke, who was actually taking deep breaths to soothe. “So, for them we’re not a couple, we haven’t been for at least eight months.” The weight of the words fell over their shoulders simultaneously. Both of them averted their eyes, neither one ready to face how deeply hurt inside the other was. “What I mean, they’ll think we are trying to move on. But, that’s not what I want…” Brooke cupped Vanessa’s face with a hand, lifting it up to be able to look into his eyes.
“And what do you want?” Vanessa asked, his voice starting to crack. “Because I’m far from moving on… I don’t think I’ll ever be… I… at least, not anytime soon.”
Brooke nodded, more to reassure the other man than as an affirmation. “I want us back together.” Brooke said, the words falling from his lips with the softness of the summer wind. “I want you… if you’ll take me back…” Vanessa looked at him, reaching shyly to hold one of his hands.
“Not that easy… sure we can try but, there’s some shit we have to figure out.” His voice was husky and low, a dark gloom reflecting on his eyes. “I can work with the distance, the schedules and my feelings, but I can’t take you not being faithful.”
Brooke groaned, the memory of the fights over Vanessa’s jealousy and his inability to keep it in his pants the actual thing that broke them up. “I’m up to try, I… I just can’t keep doing this, I can’t be missing you in the middle of whatever city I am and do lousy attempts to fill the void. I can’t keep lying to myself, when the only moment that everything felt right, was when I was sleeping with you in my arms.” His voice sounded frustrated, desperate, pleading. “Nothing compares to the peace I feel when you’re with me.”
A pregnant silence fell over the hotel room. “What if you can’t help it? What if your drunk ass make you fall? Tequila and longing are the worst combo in human history!” Vanessa spit, her own fears coming out and he didn’t have the strength to hold them back. “You can bet I’m only yours, how do I know you’ll do that for me, Brock?”
He looked down, not knowing how to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was a manwhore, but the mere idea of being in an exclusive relationship where they were gonna spend lots of times apart felt wrong. He was a man, a very sexual one, whose relationship with the man in front of him started with a shy lust that became something more. “You know I love you Jose,” he said, feeling trapped. “In my defense, I’ve been sober for almost a month, both cigarette and tequila.” He smiled, his defense somehow sounding kinda childish. “I’ve changed, and I’m still changing. I can’t promise that the need will go, but I can promise to fight it.”
Vanessa jumped out of bed, the movement so sudden that scared Brooke. “Dunno, I need to think, need to go.” He said, turning as fast as he left the bed and took his gym bag from the floor. Brooke left the bed behind him, reaching the door before it could actually get shut, he grabbed the keycard from the light switch and went right behind Vanessa. His long legs easily coping with the fast pace he took.
Reaching to catch his arm, he pulled him closer. “Please don’t go, we can figure this out, just don’t run.” He pleaded, his voice even lower. The hallway between the lines of room doors was empty, soft background noise coming from some of them. Vanessa looked at him, helpless, the sheer confusion irradiating from her eyes. “Stay and let me prove I mean it,” said Brooke, just before leaning to kiss him again.
The soft moan that escaped Vanessa’s lips sounded like a promise; the one that came from Brooke’s throat, like a plea. Both of them so invested on each other that they didn’t hear the sound of someone’s ouch and almost fall, until the doorknob clicked opening the door. Instinctively, Brooke turned to face the door shielding Vanessa with his body, an apology ready to leave his lips any second, until he saw the face sneaking behind the door.
“I wanted some ice and…” said the embarrassed voice coming from the room door.
“What the…” Brooke whispered, both amused and relieved of seeing a familiar face, but also starting to feel panicked of being caught by one of their sisters. The other girl quickly glanced around before she opened the door, letting them in. “You scared the shit out of us, Scarlet!” Brooke hissed, feeling Vanessa tiptoeing behind him to see Scarlet.
What they weren’t expecting, was the second voice that came from the back of the hotel room, followed by no other than a barefoot and topless Yvie. He rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Babe? Jake where are you?”
Both Brooke and Vanessa gasped in surprise. Of all the things that they could’ve found out, and all the secrets kept behind doors, this was the one they would have never expected.
“I’m right here hun, just chewing out Branjie for disturbing your beauty sleep.” Said Scarlet, gravitating towards Yvie, who wrapped him with his long arms and kissed his temple.
