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Summary
BEEEEEEEEEEP.
The honk comes without warning. For half a second, Carol thinks she has been shot.
Then it keeps going. A sustained, unbroken, eat-shit honk. The kind LA people deploy when they want to fuck you up as a person.
The honking stops. The Range Rover's window comes down.
"Are you leaving the space or not." The woman says it flat, and bored.
Carol puts her own window down. Slowly, for the fuck of it.
“No, lady. I'm not leaving. I’m parked. This is a parking space, and I have parked a car in it. Like a human being is allowed to. Your response to that was to put your hand flat on a horn for what, an hour? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
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A feud for the ages. Two strangers let a parking incident burrow into their minds and slowly consume their every thought and action
Series
- Part 3 of Close Quarters
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“No shit. Not sure I wanna wear a stranger’s panties, though.”
“Your loss. I’ll even let you keep them. Call it a souvenir from your first night in London.”
OR: 33-year-old Carol Sturka goes to a writer's networking event in the hopes of bagging herself a book deal, and, instead, finds a charming Polish model.
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“No,” she says, swallowing around the word.
There’s a moment of silence that follows, and Carol knows she’s in trouble. But that doesn’t stop her. She needs this, needs Helen to do something to dull the ache in her bones.
“Do you want to try that again?”
Carol’s hands reach out, and she grips the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath as she registers the familiar shift in Helen’s voice. She knows exactly what’s coming, and a small part of her feels relief at the thought.
“No,” she repeats.
Helen’s response comes instantly, “In here, now.”
Carol doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t argue. Her body moves on autopilot because it needs what it’s walking into. It knew it before she did.
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I'll Bring Out The Worst In You... Promise by infinite_euphemism
Fandoms: Agatha All Along (TV)
27 May 2026
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Agatha Harkness runs an underground service where she seduces and humiliates arrogant Alphas on behalf of wronged omegas, taking pride in dismantling their disgusting egos. After completing another successful job, her friend Lilia asks her for an unusual favour- helping her shy, underconfident Alpha niece learn to step into her identity. Reluctantly agreeing out of loyalty (and of course payment), Agatha is introduced to Rio, a sweet, unsuspecting Alpha who is nothing like the alphas she’s used to tearing down.
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“You know,” Monica whispers against her mouth, their noses nearly touching, drawing Ava back to herself. “Kelly likes to watch. Do you think Deborah would want to watch?”
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drag my teeth across your chest (to taste your beating heart) by wanhedalycia
Fandoms: Pluribus (TV 2025)
28 Dec 2025
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Summary
“Can we give you anything, Carol?” Her voice had dropped, low and gravelly now, cracking slightly when she said her name. “Do you want something from us?”
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carol doesn't want any help. and zosia? well, zosia just wants to give her what she needs.
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After the death of her wife, nihilistic and closeted romance author Carol Sturka descends into a stupor of drunken depression which is only compounded when her fanbase finds out she’s a lesbian and erupts in outrage and deems her disingenuous. Her publicist has the perfect solution to rebuild Carol's public image and free her from the "romance slop" genre forever, but Carol isn't going to like it.
She's right. Carol hates it. (Until she doesn't.)
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Two and a half years after Carol Sturka saved the world, Zosia still hates her. No, that's not quite right. Well she doesn't not hate her. But the word isn't quite strong enough. She thinks about her all the time. Between shitty cups of staffroom coffee, impassioned lectures to dozing students, and reading Carol's ridiculous romantasies (she only picked it up because it's rude to leave a charity shop without buying anything).
Fic version of 'what would happen, if you just...called Taylor up?'
A character study for Zosia
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Freedom of the Will and the Concept of a Person by bladeruiner
Fandoms: Pluribus (TV 2025)
20 May 2026
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Two years after the Unjoining, she saw Zosia in London, of all places – nearly unrecognizable in her winter attire – bundled up to her nose. But Carol felt her presence like a sawed-off shotgun wound to her stomach. The sight of her eyes peeking over the edge of her scarf, sparkling with mirth as she shouldered the woman she was walking with –
Well, it was fucking devastating.
‘Who is Carol?’ Spray-painted in canary yellow, stood out against the rain-darkened concrete of the building across the street from The Ritz where Carol was staying.
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If she wanted to, Helen could press just a hair harder and she would be completely at her mercy, out of oxygen entirely. But instead she chooses this as a form of closeness, of intimacy, and it makes it all the more dizzying.
Aka Sturstead choking fic… I’m sorry
Series
- Part 2 of Out of breath
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Helen’s expression grows softer, and Carol knows it has everything to do with the hairbrush in her hand.
She holds it out in the space between them, offering it to Helen without a single word.
There it is, the silent request for something comforting, something nurturing. Carol hasn’t ever been able to name this particular desire, but she knows that Helen knows it well.
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Carol Sturka, Oscar winning director, and long time producer, Helen Umstead, have announced their divorce after 34 years together. Click on the link to read more of the shocking details. Who served who? Are the rumors of an affair true? And when did Sturka get so close with model, Zosia Mazur?
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“Hi,” says a gruff voice. “This is the Just-Been-Kissed PD. Anyone in your house who might’ve just been kissed?”
Carol laughs at the put-on accent, her toes curling against the carpeted floor. “Helen?”
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There is an old, strange house by the sea which is hauntingly accommodating to Carol's every need. She carries her grief and two phones, calling one with the other just to hear a voice that can't answer back.
She spends her days chasing what is left of herself, trying and failing to write, and waiting for whatever is in the house with her to show itself.
Then her phone rings. A new voice on the line.
Her name is Zosia. She says she's here to help. -
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Summary
Carol finds it in the third week of living alone with an unhived Zosia: a New York Times article, “To Fall In Love With Anyone, Do This.” An intimacy experiment involving thirty-six increasingly personal questions and, at the end of it, four uninterrupted minutes of eye contact, which sounds fake and humiliating and somehow still not bad enough to stop her.
Carol, obviously, prints it out.
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Helen chuckles, throaty and amused, “I asked you a question, hon.”
Carol’s brows furrow as she tries to recall what Helen had asked, already too lost in the feeling of Helen’s hands on her skin, an escape from the blinking cursor mocking her. It takes a few seconds for her brain to catch up, to remember its place.
“Oh. Yeah,” she mutters, looking up to meet Helen’s gaze. “I’m struggling with this chapter.”
Helen sighs and leans forward, murmuring, “You’re so close to your count for the week, though, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Carol confirms with a small nod.
“So you can finish soon,” Helen says, pressing her lips to Carol’s temple. “Why don’t I help you out a bit, hm?”
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Carol steadies her instantly, one arm firm around her waist, the other still sliding along her side. “Careful,” she murmurs, though there’s a smile in it.
Zosia huffs a quiet laugh, breath still uneven. “You started it.”
Carol’s mouth curves against hers. “I started it? I’m not the one dressed like that.”
Or: It's Carol's birthday and Zosia has a surprise for her.
A tie in fic to my pregnancy AU, 'Something Unexpected Between Us', but can be read on it's own.
Series
- Part 2 of Baby Stursia Series
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No, Agatha Harkness was hip to the youth. She redownloaded Tinder, chose her five MILFiest photos - little black dress, lululemon with the pantyline, paint and sip from several years ago, little black dress again (same event, different angle), obviously face-tuned selfie - and set her bio to ‘MY HUSBAND IS DEAD. I don't want to remarry. I only want SEX!’
Then slid down the couch, neck bent at a weird angle, and scrolled listlessly - maybe, maybe, sure, eh, no, unless…?, sure, maybe - until she hit Rio, 26; stop asking me to top it doesnt work anymore
title is from 'free at last' by PUP
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with a honey in the middle there's some leeway by cowlesbian
Fandoms: Pluribus (TV 2025)
04 Apr 2026
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"Oh, you want me to cuck you with the woman committing identity fraud?" Carol teased, pulling Helen closer.
"That's not cucking," Helen said, as if it mattered, "that'd be if you wanted to have sex with Zosia because I’m a pathetic little worm, and I’m sort of sadly jerking off in the corner."
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Carol and Manousos might finally have a way to reverse the joining, but it could cost Zosia her life. Even if Manousos' plan works, Carol has to ask herself, just how much of the Zosia she knows will be left behind? And what will the Others do when they discover she isn't part of them anymore?