#I like Monét as well I just have less to say about her so far

[horsegirlhob]

The great thing about this Dimension 20 season is that, as someone who does not watch drag race but who has a lot of friends who do, I can now finally provide opinions on at least some of the people they talk about. 

[artificialqueens]

Bad Girls Club (Branjie) Chapter 7 - Joley

ao3 link

“So, how have you been?”

It was the most innocuous question possible, but Brooke Lynn already felt like she was in an interrogation room – the kind where the only light came from a lamp that was being shone in her face. Her hands were clammy, and her gaze fixated on the table. The pounding in her chest coupled with a ringing in her ears and made it near impossible to think straight. “Good enough,” she answered with no idea if it was actually her voice.

Kameron gave a short nod of understanding. “Maybe not the best question to ask, all things considered,” she conceded. “But I couldn’t leave without catching up with you, and maybe a few other things…”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

She quirked her brow before laughing and shaking her head. “No, no, that ship has sailed. I’m much more interested in whatever’s going on between you and that little firecracker you were staring at the whole time. This is new for you and I’m intrigued.”

Brooke flushed a deep red, swallowing thickly and clearing her throat. “Why are you so interested in my love life? I figured you of all people would be the last to want to meddle.” In this camp alone, she could think of at least three more obvious suspects for that sort of thing.

Kameron shrugged. “My shift ended, and I have an hour to kill, might as well make you squirm. Besides, I meant it when I said you and I are cool – just because you’re used to everyone lying and being passive aggressive doesn’t mean I’m looped into that.”

And she had a point – realizing that some people actually do mean what they say was an important life lesson Brooke Lynn had been taking away from her time here. It had been jarring at first, how blunt everyone could be, but she had come to appreciate the fact that, nine times out of ten, she knew exactly what she was getting into with someone. Sure, growing up in an emotionally repressed environment made her more intuitive, but at the cost of constantly questioning where she actually stood with people. “So, what, you’re gonna mediate some sort of therapy session between us?”

“Oh, good idea!”

“Wait, no—” But she was already being dragged across the dining hall.

Then Kameron got a hold of Vanessa’s wrist with her free hand and suddenly they were both being escorted outside without anyone around them giving it a second thought. This allowed her to take the girls outside, sitting in a patch of grass. “Okay, ladies! Couples’ therapy is in session.”

“Couples?” Both girls questioned in unison.

“Situationship therapy isn’t as catchy, work with me,” she rolled her eyes. “Now, tell Dr. Michaels what the trouble is.”

“Hey, I wanna see your medical license!” Vanessa could feel Kameron’s glare burning a hole into the side of her head, and – despite the fact it did make Brooke laugh – she gave in. “Fine, fine,” she sighed dramatically. “I took it personally when Brooke Lynn said she wanted to forget this place and go back to her normal life because it felt like I don’t mean nothing to her. Can I go now?”

“That’s not how therapy works. Sit,” Kameron reprimanded and watched Vanessa sit with crossed arms and furrowed brows, finding her defiant pout almost amusing.

Brooke Lynn, on the other hand, was far less amused. “That’s what this was about? My family life is strained to the breaking point, my future has been dangling in the balance, I have no fucking idea what sort of hell on earth I could be facing when I go back to school, and you made all of that about yourself?” She was seething, vitriol shooting off every word. It was hard to avoid tripping over herself as she scrambled to her feet. “This is beyond playing Dr. Phil, Kameron. This is… I don’t know what the fuck this is, other than fucking insane.” Turning on her heel, she all but sprinted off.

Vanessa was quick on her feet despite the sudden panic that sunk her heart into the pit of her stomach. “Brooke! Brooke Lynn, wait! Let me explain!” she shouted, running as fast as her short legs would carry her across the wide expanse of grass.

Even though Kameron suddenly found herself left in the dust, she was unfazed. She nodded observantly, brows knitting together. “Guess ‘marriage counselor’ is off the potential career list,” she decided, brushing herself off and returning to the dining hall. The other girls from her group had asked about her disappearance with marginal interest but accepted ‘just needed some air’ at face value.

Meanwhile, Brooke Lynn had made it nearly a quarter mile down the camp’s nature trail before Vanessa caught up to her. Sure, she could have pushed it further, but despite her fury, she knew she couldn’t outrun the inevitable confrontation forever. They did still share a room, after all – and it was way too far into the summer to try to change that. She whirled around, making the other girl skid to a halt, dirt kicking up at her heels. “Fine. Talk,” Brooke snapped.

There was a brief moment where Vanessa forgot all she had to say, but as soon as she began, the words flowed out. “Look, I know I always be walkin’ around like I’m the shit and all that. And I don’t really suffer from no low self-esteem or whatever, but I know I’m not smart, I know I probably won’t ever amount to nothing. So when someone like you, someone so fucking far out of my league… when whatever we had started… I don’t know, I felt special.” She looked away and sniffled, a wave of humiliation hitting her as she forced herself to come to terms with what had been building up inside of her over the past few weeks. “Then you started talking about going home and it was the reality check I was afraid of. Guess I was mad at you ‘cause I was mad at myself or something.”

Brooke Lynn didn’t know what she was expecting Vanessa to say – she had learned early on in their relationship that anticipating anything that came out of her mouth was essentially impossible – but that confession had caught her completely off guard. There was an emotional self-awareness that blew her away. She was sure A’keria had helped her get there, but that didn’t lessen how impressed she was. But at the same time, her heart broke for her – those insecurities were real and raw and spoke volumes about who Vanessa was. Yes, she was still frustrated, but it was hard to stay angry at her, leaving her quiet as she took it all in.

“You probably hate me now, huh?”

The brokenness in Vanessa’s voice hit her again. Brooke shook her head, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “I could never hate you. I just don’t have it in me.” She exhaled deeply, looking up at the bright, sunny sky. It almost mocked them with how perfectly cheery it was, like the sun had no right to shine that bright when their hearts felt so dark and heavy. “And for what it’s worth, you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You are the very definition of special, Vanessa.” There was a brief pause before she followed up with, “I meant that as a compliment, not shade.”

Vanessa managed a soft laugh, pushing the hair out of her eyes, even if her gaze was fixed squarely on the ground. “I know what you meant,” she assured and let out a deep sigh. When her mom would say that sort of thing to her, she could never fully shake the sense that there was a hint of obligation – your mom has to tell you you’re special, right? But when Brooke said it, it felt real and made her feel special. “So, where we at now?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Brooke Lynn hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Meet me at the lake after dinner, we’ll see how we feel then.” The lake had grown to have a sentimental meaning for them – if there were any spot to determine their fate, that had to be it.

“We’ll see how we feel,” Vanessa echoed and turned to make the walk back to the dining hall. It felt like such a long trek when she wasn’t chasing after someone.

“It kind of sounds like you’ve got your course of action figured out,” Nina mused observantly. “What are you looking for me to tell you, exactly?”

Brooke shrugged, tugging at the strings hanging off the frayed ends of her denim shorts. “I just wish I knew how to figure out what I feel. I’m used to everything being clear cut. Vanessa is just… She’s so… I’ve never met anyone like her before. And no one has ever made me feel like this before.”

Her teacher let out a good-natured laugh and shook her head. “I swear, it’s like you forget that you’re seventeen. You’re experiencing a lot of firsts, that’s what being a teenager is all about. I think meeting someone like Vanessa is good for you, and no matter what your relationship ends up being, I think you’ll have grown for it.”

“That doesn’t make this any easier.” She kicked her legs and whined. “This is tonight, I need to bring an answer or I’m gonna look like an asshole.”

“You’re overthinking things again, Brooke,” Nina gently pointed out. “All you need to do is speak from the heart and the rest will follow.” At the end of the day, she knew the teen wanted an impossible solution that wrapped up her story in a neat bow. While she was flattered by her unwavering faith, she just couldn’t seem to drive home the reality of the situation.

Brooke rolled her eyes dramatically and laid back on the desk. “God, that’s so lame. Does Monét like that sort of cheesy shit?” Deflecting to their relationship seemed to be a go-to for both herself and Vanessa when they didn’t want to be faced with the reality of their circumstances.

It was most likely due to the fact that it always garnered the same reaction – the teachers would recoil and blush. They would stammer and lose their train of thought and give the flustered teens a moment to recuperate.

Unfortunately for Brooke, Nina seemed unfazed this time around. In fact, she smirked. “Actually, she does,” she grinned. “And do you know why I know that? Because we talk and communicate our feelings like human beings. You should try it.”

“You didn’t have to come for me like that,” Brooke mumbled. Nina must have picked that up from Monét, she thought and momentarily regretted her matchmaking decision.

A’keria looked at Vanessa with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She pensively cocked her head to the side, and it took much longer than her friend would have liked before she started talking. “You’re a hot fucking mess, you know that, right? You both are.”

“Maybe so.” Vanessa clicked her tongue. “But that doesn’t answer my question, bitch. What the fuck am I s’posed to do at the lake?”

The eyeroll she received in response wasn’t helpful, but it wasn’t unexpected either. “Have you ever solved a romantic problem by yourself? When you gonna realize that there ain’t no one that can tell you how to feel about Brooke Lynn. That’s between you and her.”

Vanessa pouted and crossed her arms, actively looking down and away from her. “Look, you know damn well I ain’t never gonna meet another girl like her… Maybe that’s for the best. But I don’t wanna fuck this shit up. I’ll never forgive myself if I do.”

A’keria sighed, her expression softening. She wrapped her arm around the smaller girl and squeezed her shoulder. “Vanjie, even if it is the worst-case scenario – you guys don’t work out and don’t see each other again – life goes on. Your heart will heal, and you’ll find another girl worthy of all the love you’ve got to give and will welcome it with open arms.”

Deep in her heart, Vanessa knew there was truth in her friend’s words. She had healed her broken heart before, life had gone on. Even with that, however, she couldn’t let go of the idea that this would be her ‘one that got away,’ the ‘what if’ that she would look back on with a sense of longing when she was old and gray. But she didn’t have the words to convey that sense of fear. “I guess so.”

It wasn’t an especially convincing statement, but A’keria knew when to stop pushing. She gave her a hug from the side before letting go and standing up. “Come on, let’s get a snack or something. Can’t have romantic revelations on an empty stomach, right?”

The lake was as serene as ever when Vanessa and Brooke Lynn approached it. Crickets were chirping, the water was still, the full moon illuminated the picturesque scene. It was just the neutral environment that they needed for this conversation.

They sat down cross-legged and faced each other. It took what felt like ages (but in reality, was less than a minute) before either of them spoke, but Vanessa was the one to break the silence.

“I thought I’d know what to say when I got here, but I still don’t know shit,” she confessed. “All I know is I’m tired of fighting with you and worrying about everything I do. I don’t care if I’m not good enough for you – one of the first things you said to me was that we’re equal here.”

Brooke Lynn shook her head. “I don’t want you to think you not being good enough is the issue. I’m not better than you because of where I come from, or at all.” She reached out and took her hands. “Why don’t we just make the most of the time we have together?”

Vanessa didn’t need clarification when it came to that. She moved closer until she was sat on Brooke’s lap, her arms draped around her neck and their lips connecting in a tender kiss. That was all they needed, it seemed, for all their worries and fears to melt away.

Brooke’s arms wrapped around Vanessa’s waist and held her close as the kiss deepened. After a moment, she slipped her hand under her shirt, pushing it up inch by inch before she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she breathed out.

“And you not half bad yourself,” Vanessa smirked, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck, until her lips latched onto her pulse point and left a hickey in its wake. If the moan Brooke let out was any clue, that was the right spot, leading her to pay extra attention to the dark, purple mark that was forming, only breaking contact to take her shirt off as well.

They didn’t talk much after that – instead, there was an eager, haphazard mess of limbs as they tried to undress each other as quickly as they could manage, each article of clothing landing somewhere in the grass.

When they were naked, Vanessa pinned Brooke to the ground, a mischievous smirk on her lips. Normally, she would have submitted control to the blonde, but she wanted to channel everything she had been feeling over the past few days into the perfect, lustful expression. She trailed her lips down her body, not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

While Vanessa’s hand moved between Brooke Lynn’s thighs, her mouth moved to both of her breasts, massaging her nipples with her tongue and savoring the moans it elicited. She started with her hand by pressing her thumb to her clit, rubbing in small circles while she slowly kissed down to her lower abdomen.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna take care of you too,” Brooke insisted, and – despite Vanessa’s original plan – she had her hands bracing on her hips in a matter of seconds. She didn’t wait for her to start before she traced her tongue in a line down her slit before wiggling it inside.

“Fuck…” Vanessa exhaled softly, momentarily distracted before she gathered herself enough to reciprocate. She had a firm grip on Brooke’s thighs, fingernails digging into her flesh as she licked and sucked on her clit with a fervor that was reserved exclusively for her.

Vanessa’s skill and enthusiasm had a clear effect on Brooke Lynn. Her body twitched and trembled under her touch, causing her own ministrations to be erratic and fierce. She was the first to come, too, moaning out despite how stifled it was.

Even though she couldn’t hear it clearly, Vanessa knew when she had gotten Brooke off, paying extra attention to work her through her orgasm. It wasn’t until she was certain she was spent before she shifted to just riding her face, clasping her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at keeping quiet – the last thing they needed was to wake up an adult.

Brooke was able to focus all of her attention on eating Vanessa out as soon as she was able to move her body as she needed to, her hands roaming the expanse of her thighs and torso while she refused to come up for air.

“O-Oh god, fuck, fuck, Brooke!” Staying quiet proved to be too difficult of a task when Vanessa approached her climax. She bit down on her lip, whimpering and whining as she rode it out.

When Vanessa had calmed down from her orgasmic high, Brooke scooped her up in her arms and held her close. They lay in relative silence – their breathing still audibly heavy – and basked in the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Maybe this did clear the fog of confused emotions that had incessantly followed them, or maybe it threw a wrench into things. All either of them knew was that there was nowhere in the world they’d rather be than in each other’s arms.

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (2/?)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~2.7k (this chapter)/~5.2k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

Read on AO3

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“Why am I keeping watch, again?” Brooke Lynn asked in an anxious whisper, looking over her shoulder every few seconds as they walked, as if she sincerely expected someone to jump out of the bushes and catch them.

A’keria rolled her eyes. “Because you’ll take the least heat if you get caught,” she explained, murmuring to herself that letting her tag along was a bad idea and, “If Vanjie wasn’t so horny, we wouldn’t be stuck with her…”

“Both of you shut up, we’re almost there,” Vanessa snapped, the group of five pushing forward until they reached their destination.

Under the moonlight, the lake was beautifully illuminated, bringing a calm, picturesque frame around it. At the right angle, it could’ve been the stock image for a postcard. And it was quiet – a drastic contrast from every other moment of the program – only the sound of crickets and frogs filled the air. Truly, it felt like the only good and pure location they could reach for miles.

Then the girls began stripping and ‘pure’ was promptly removed from the descriptors. That had been the plan – sneak out after dinner for a late-night skinny dip, an act of rebellion both towards the program and the societal constraints that led them there in the first place. It was a moment to be fun and free – they would be damned if they didn’t jump on the chance.

“Hey Vanj, do you think the water’s clean? I bet it’s full of—Vanj? Vanjie?” Yvie made a couple of attempts to get the other girl’s attention, waving her hand in front of her face, before realizing why she didn’t stand a chance.

As soon as Brooke Lynn started undressing, Vanessa was a goner. Her gaze instantly fixated on the statuesque silhouette, watching the way the moonlight bounced off her porcelain skin, the way her toned muscles flexed as she moved. It almost felt too good to be true to be able to get to see her naked like this, so open and exposed.

“Would you like a bucket for your drool?” Scarlet teased, bumping shoulders with Vanessa and bringing her back to Earth, reluctant as she may be.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and shoved her away. “Eat me, bitch.”

“Uh-uh, you’ve got the wrong white girl.” She smirked before following Yvie and A’keria down the dock, a blissfully oblivious Brooke Lynn following the three of them with Vanessa on their tails.

Splash after splash, each girl descended into the freezing lake water, all of them doing their best not to squeal at the jarring temperature change. They all swam to the edge, giggling and catching their breath.

“Why does swimming naked feel so good anyway? Like, I feel like that’s objectively weird, but it’s nice,” Brooke mused, propping her arms up on the grass and looking back towards the main grounds.

“Freedom,” Vanessa offered as an answer. “We got full control of our bodies, choices, it’s like sticking it to the man and shit."

The other girls nodded in agreement. “That’s so profound, Vanjie.” Yvie toed the line of sincerity. “But we better wrap this up fast if we wanna escape with our lives.” And with that, they all pushed themselves out of the water and towards the pile of their clothes. The fabric clung to their wet bodies, but nobody seemed to mind, still reveling in the experiences all the way back to their respective rooms.

“You know,” Brooke started as she changed into her pajamas. “I felt like I got a lot closer to everyone. It felt like a summer camp moment.” She smiled as she towel-dried her still damp hair. “Is that lame?”

Vanessa chuckled fondly. “Nah, that’s sweet. Don’t tell no one I said that though,” she told her as she got into bed. Honestly, she kind of loved that cheesy holding hands around the campfire bonding she was talking about. “You feeling less boring now, at least?”

Brooke Lynn beamed proudly as she tucked herself in. “I do! And I’m gonna help you too next time. You know, with getting authority figures on your side.”

“We make a good team.” She hummed sleepily before her eyes shut.

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“I’ve seen you staring at me, Vanjie,” Brooke Lynn cooed as she sauntered towards her. “You like what you see, baby?” She had Vanessa trapped on the bed, hovering over her with a wide smirk.

And Vanessa was helpless, frozen with no desire to move. She gazed up at Brooke with wide eyes, her heart racing. “Yes” was all she had managed to get out before Brooke’s lips were on her neck, hands roaming up and down her body. She shuddered as her smooth, slender fingers trailed down her torso until they hooked into the waistband of her pajama shorts, starting to tug them down and—

That fucking alarm. Vanessa groaned into her pillow, her arm flapping around blindly until it landed on her phone to shut it off. It was as bad a punishment as everything else in this goddamn program. She rolled onto her back reluctantly and noticed that Brooke Lynn wasn’t even in the room, let alone her bed. And, considering the wetness that had pooled between her thighs overnight, she was more than a little relieved.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Brooke chirped as she returned to the room – hair in a high ponytail and dressed in a sweat-stained tank top and shorts. “I just went for a jog. I would’ve invited you, but you looked so cute and peaceful.” She hummed as she got changed. Truth be told, she would have been far too distracted to get any actual exercise in had Vanessa accompanied her. Being around Vanessa in general was distracting if she thought about it – not that she would ever allow herself to.

Vanessa put on her most convincingly nonchalant smile as she swung her legs over to dangle off the side of the bed, toes just grazing the wooden floor. “Yeah, set my alarm like you been telling me, thank god.” She confirmed as she did her hair. “Did you do any of the assignments for today?” she asked offhandedly – anything to distract herself from that dream.

“I did and you can copy whatever you need to.” Brooke shrugged.“Yeah? You don’t have some sort of fuckin’… moral issue with it or whatever?” Vanessa asked with a laugh as they headed towards the other building.

Brooke shook her head. “Listen, I know we’re all here for the same reason, to stay out of trouble. No one gives a fuck if we actually learn anything as long as we don’t make any fuss,” she explained. “Everyone cheats to get ahead in private schools. Better grades get bigger grants, it’s the name of the game, babe.” Not leaving room for a rebuttal, she made her way into the classroom with her breakfast bag in hand.

Vanessa had to consciously close her mouth as she stared after Brooke Lynn. She blinked rapidly and pattered after her. Was that side of her there the whole time? Suffice it to say, more than her interest was piqued.

“How have you been holding up, honey?” Nina asked as Brooke perched herself on her desk. “I can only imagine this has been a bit of a roller coaster for you.”

Brooke laughed dryly, staring off in front of her. Roller coaster was one way of putting it, sure, but a tornado might be more accurate. “That’s one way of putting it.” She sighed, then looked towards her. “Can I ask you something?” After the teacher nodded, she continued. “How do you feel about summer flings?”

“Why, what have you heard?” Nina’s eyes darted back and forth anxiously.

While Brooke did often confide in Nina, the opportunity to deflect and distract was just too good to pass up. “Oh my god, do you have a crush on someone? Here? Who? You have to tell me,” she insisted, bouncing excitedly.

Nina, of course, instantly regretted jumping to conclusions. In retrospect, it was glaringly obvious that the student had come to her to discuss her own matters of the heart. Great. Fantastic. Well, there was nothing else she could do but bite the bullet and confess. “Your home ec teacher, Monét. I don’t know how or why it happened but… Well, I guess it started over a group discussion over how we were going to structure our classes, and we both got mad about how some of the people in charge were talking about you guys. She’s so passionate about making sure you guys still get to be teenagers, it’s so sweet.”

This was thrilling for Brooke Lynn. Some high schoolers might find it weird or gross to know about their teachers’ love lives. There was always that moment when a teacher would come to class visibly pregnant and after the excitement died down, the class was left with the thought of someone fucking them raw. But she didn’t see Nina as a teacher, or any authority figure, really. She was more of an older sister or cousin, a friend with more life experience. So, to find out she was going through such a similar issue? It was nearly too perfect.

“That’s so cute, I’m gonna die. Does she know? Does she like you?”

“Oh, I regret this already.” Nina chuckled dryly and hid her face in her hands. “You know I have no idea when someone’s flirting with me, Brooke. I have no idea.” She lamented before bolting upright. “But don’t you dare try to meddle in this shit.” Her eyes narrowed at Brooke, trying her best to look stern and serious towards someone that was physically incapable of being intimidated by her.

Brooke Lynn gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll be good. I promise.” She raised her hand to swear and hopped off the desk. “I’ll get out of your hair. I promised Vanessa I’d teach her how to skip stones by the lake during rec time anyway.”

Nina cocked her head to the side curiously. “Mateo? Your roommate?” She leaned forward. “Is that, perchance, who you were going to ask me about in regards to a summer fling?”

“Hey, don’t try to deflect onto me.” Brooke laughed despite how red her cheeks had turned. “Good luck with your teacher crush!” she called out, already halfway out the door.

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“On Ms. Monét? Deadass?” Vanessa asked as she and Brooke Lynn walked towards the lake. Occasionally their hands would brush against each other, but they would always stop just shy of letting their fingers interlace. “That’s fuckin’ wild. You know, she and A’keria been real buddy-buddy, I could have her put in a good word if—”

“Don’t you dare!” Brooke laughed. “She’ll lose her shit if she finds out I told you, let alone have it spread around,” she explained, stopping when they reached their destination. “It feels different in the daytime, doesn’t it?”It was the same lake that they had all been naked in the night before, but it may as well have been another body of water entirely. It was still serene, but it had a vibrant hue and warmth that retreated into the shadows when the sun went down. Now, it’d feel wrong to interrupt that scene with nudity – not that either would be opposed to watching the other strip down in better lighting.

Brooke Lynn crouched down, picked up a smooth stone, and walked towards the edge, stopping about a foot before the land meets the sea and waited for Vanessa to join her. She handed her the rock with a smile. “I want you to give it a try on your own first,” she instructed, taking a few cautious steps back.

Vanessa hurled the stone into the water like it’d just catcalled her from across the street. It didn’t skip, instead crashing into the water with a splash. Even though she doubted that she did it right, she still turned to Brooke with a toothy grin. “How was that?”

“Angry,” she answered, giggling softly. “Like the lake owes you money.” It took a couple of moments to procure another stone that could get the job done, and Brooke placed it gingerly in her hand. “Okay, I’m going to get you in the right position.”

And Vanessa was about to make some sort of sexual innuendo, but then Brooke got behind her and wrapped her arms around her like the pottery scene in Ghost and words were suddenly unnecessary. She felt her hand move from her shoulder to her wrist, placing her arm just so. Vanessa bit her lip – Brooke’s body was pressed right against her from behind, the taller girl manipulating her stance and sending her heartbeat into overdrive.

Was it actually necessary for Brooke to be all up on her like that? No, but she wasn’t about to point that out any time soon. “Perfect.” She took a step to the side. “Try it now.”

To her pleasant surprise, Vanessa got the stone to skip four times before it was submerged under water. “I did it!” Her face lit up with excitement. She turned to Brooke, eyes wide and sparkling with joy. “That was so fucking cool!”

Brooke’s smile reached her eyes as she watched Vanessa bubble over with enthusiasm. “God, you’re so adorable.”

“Huh?”

“I said… I think I heard the bell. We better head back inside.”

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It was just past one in the morning and Brooke Lynn was wide awake, staring silently at the ceiling. She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was preventing her from sleeping but avoiding talking about her growing feelings for the girl in the bed five feet from was probably playing a role in it. And normally she avoided staring at her for long, but her brows furrowed, and she rolled onto her side when she heard Vanessa mumbling because she swore, she heard her name somewhere in the otherwise unintelligible noises.

Vanessa lay with her head pushed back into her pillows and her back curved up, though being under her blanket it wasn’t fully visible. That was necessary, as she was doing more than just arching her back under the covers. Her hand was hidden inside her shorts, two fingers pressed against her clit and rubbing in increasingly fervent circles. The other hand moved up under her tank top, groping her breasts and tweaking her nipples, anything to get any more stimulation. Her eyes fluttered shut, letting her imagination take over and her hands do all the work.

For the most part, Vanessa was biting down on her lip, but whenever they parted, soft, breathy moans escaped. But that wasn’t all – when she tilted her head towards the wall, “Fuck, Brooke…” slipped out in a whimper. It devolved back to heavy breathing as her fingers moved down, pressing into her pussy as she only continued to work herself into a frenzy.

Brooke’s eyes shot wide as she flopped onto her back, feeling a blush spread across her face and down her chest. There was little room for misinterpretation – Vanessa was getting off and thinking of her. Her mind went wild with curiosity – was this the first time it happened? Or the more pressing question – what specifically was she imagining? She was hit with the intense desire to run over and act out whatever fantasy was eliciting those pretty moans from Vanessa.

Vanessa pushed her face into her pillows when she found it more difficult to stay quiet. Her hand left her breasts, allowing her to focus on pumping two fingers in and out, bucking into her own touch, chasing the sensation. Her hips started to jerk unsteadily and her teeth gnashing at the pillowcase just to keep herself quiet. And within a few minutes, she was still and silent. Her breathing evened out and she was out cold.

God, if Brooke was having trouble sleeping before, it would be impossible now. It didn’t seem real – maybe she was delirious from lack of sleep. Or maybe she was projecting, some wishful thinking perhaps. Either way, she was left with a hot, throbbing sensation that wasn’t about to go away any time soon.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, hand going into her pajama bottoms and eyes closing. Feelings could wait until the morning, she needed this now.

[artificialqueens]

things you didn't say at all [things you say part 4] (Ninex) - meggie

A/N: It’s been 84 years… But seriously, school has been insane. Sorry for the delay. HFIG is not abandoned. Mia is still my favorite human (because she always reads my things and tells me that they’re good. Get yourself a friend like that). So really, nothing’s changed except I’m busy af now. Come bother me.

Summary: They have “communication issues,” but that’s not what Monét says to anyone who asks why they’re taking a break.

Word Count: 2,571

They have “communication issues,” but that’s not what Monét says to anyone who asks why they’re taking a break.

“It’s hard being apart so much.” (Said to Bob the night of said breakup. Bob had subsequently told him he was a “stupid, goddamn idiot” and needed to figure his shit out because now he was sad and stupid instead of just stupid.)

“We thought some emotional distance might be a good idea.” (Said to Cracker, who hadn’t said anything, but had instead narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and cocked her head in that silent Cracker way that communicated all her feelings without a word.)

“Brooke and Vanjie took a break and it seemed to have worked out okay for them!” (That one he says to Kameron at the Branjie engagement party while he avoids Nina like the plague. Probably he shouldn’t have even come, but how do you miss a Branjie wedding event and not get clocked for it? Especially when your (ex) boyfriend is the party planner and the two of you aren’t exactly telling everybody that you’re taking a break because of your “communication issues?” Especially when you’re in the goddamn wedding party.)

So he keeps making excuses, but really it’s their “communication issues,” which Monét always has to put in quotation marks because he feels like an idiot even thinking about it like that.

There are quite possibly a million people (so what if he picked up speaking in hyperbole from Nina?) wandering around on the grass of the country club at the party, a fact for which Monét is incredibly grateful because it allows him to blend in. Nina’s running around like crazy, bustling from table to table, playing the perfect party host he is. Monét wonders if he even realizes he’s there. It’s probably best if he doesn’t, though logically they are both in the wedding party, so it makes sense if you stop to think about it. (He knows Nina’s stopped to think about it.) But they haven’t spoken since… Well.

Nina’s thrown a hell of a party, but that’s no surprise because he always does, Monét notes with a smile. There’s a sense of peace that settles over the lawn of the country club as night falls, a sense that everything will be all right, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Fairy lights twinkle in the trees, paper lanterns cast a gentle glow on the tables and dance floor. And everyone looks so… Peaceful. It’s the opposite of how Monét feels.

Vanjie and Brooke are beaming; they’re never more than two feet apart, though they turn and speak in all directions. Brooke’s hand rests lightly on Vanessa’s hip, Vanjie tiptoes up to press a kiss to Brooke’s cheek. They’re so happy, dressed in bridal white and glowing, radiating happiness and contentment. Monét is happy for them. Really. Truly. They deserve it after everything they’ve gone through to get to this point.

Monét chats on and off with his Drag Race sisters. Trixie and Katya are there, of course. No one’s kidding themselves about that wedding happening any time soon, but they’re in a good place (finally), and they both look more in love with each other every time Monét sees them, and he gathers that’s enough for them for now. They’ve always operated on their own schedule. He guesses they’ll continue to do so, and it will be perfect and so very them if (and when) it does happen. Trixie usually gets her way as far as Katya is concerned.

Scarlet and Yvie just passed their two-year anniversary. Yvie’s body seems to pain her less when Scarlet is around, so no one is surprised that they spend the majority of their time on the dance floor, swaying back and forth, wrapped around each other, still just as infatuated as the day they met in the Werk Room (now they’re just worse at hiding it). Yvie’s thin fingers tangle in Scarlet’s long curls and a smile plays at the corners of her mouth as they move to the rhythm of the music, whispering lyrics or secrets or both.

From his vantage point on the fringe of the party, Monét watches Nina. He shouldn’t, he knows this, has no right to do so after it was his idea that they take an indefinite break from their relationship. But he misses him. It’s been a month, and Monét knows that while logically it might have been the best decision, he hasn’t stopped hurting since he left Columbus.

It probably shouldn’t have been such a big deal. Monét probably blew the entire thing out of proportion. In the year they’d been together (and Monét does count those three months where they were just sleeping together even if Nina doesn’t because it’s not like there was anybody else for either one of them), Monét knew that Nina wasn’t the greatest communicator. He had a tendency to get in his head, to withdraw, to take things way too personally and internalize them.

It was a personality trait, a quirk, something Monét could deal with and work around because he knew unequivocally that he was in love with that man, Disney obsession and Hawaiian shirt collection and all; good, bad, ugly. He knew that he and Nina were absolutely meant to be together. So he accepted it, accepted Nina, said they’d work on it together.

Try as he might, Monét couldn’t break Nina of the habit. Couldn’t seem to convince him that the time they spent apart traveling around the world was just as difficult for him as it was for Nina. Couldn’t love him deeply enough to prove that Nina was more than enough, just as he was, for Monét.

They talked about it. Tried to, anyway. Nina would say he understood and things would be better for a day or three or however long they got to be together, but then one of them would inevitably leave, and a few days later, Nina’s texts would come further and further apart. They’d be shorter and more coded. Less full of exclamation points and “I love you’s!” and more riddled with lower case letters, Emojis, and acronyms that weren’t “lol.”

It had taken Monét a while, but he’d gradually taught himself to pick up on these subtle changes that signaled when Nina was spiraling again. He’d call or FaceTime (that was usually better). It might take fifteen minutes or two hours, but eventually they’d work through it. Nina would be back to his bubbly, cheerful self, and Monét would breathe a sigh of relief.

And then, one day, they hadn’t been able to work through it.

Nina took (almost) a whole week off and came to New York to visit Monét. They scheduled one gig together at the end of the week; a double-billed Miss Congeniality thing; none of that branding their portmanteau and selling it online like Brooke and Vanjie had). They were still private, at least as far as the world was concerned.

There were a few things Monét refused to compromise on, the biggest of which was his desire to keep his relationship off Instagram. His fans knew he had a boyfriend, the shrewder ones had figured out that it was probably Nina, but he wasn’t going to confirm a thing. They’d all learned a lesson watching Brooke and Vanessa fracture and haphazardly glue themselves back together, and it was obvious they’d lost a few pieces in the reconstruction. Nothing major, surface damage only, but still. There were visible chips.

So he and Nina never posted any photos together. They rarely performed in the same cities. They’d done a few shows together, but had policed their hands and eyes and comments, and there was usually at least one other person there. It became a rule with them–nothing public, nothing online. And it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

Nina pulled away, stopped texting, stopped FaceTiming, and Monét… internalized it. Took it personally. Convinced himself that Nina had decided he was too old to entertain Monét’s affections anymore.

So they’d existed in radio silence for about a week before Monét finally flown to Columbus and Ubered to Nina’s apartment (practicing his speech the entire way) where he laid bare his grievances.

“I can’t handle you constantly pulling away and never telling me what’s wrong,” he said. “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“It’s not about you,” Nina replied with a sigh. “It’s… I’m working on some stuff—through some stuff, and I—”

“Then let me help you! That’s how this works.”

Nina shook his head. Shut his eyes. Closed himself off. That’s when Monét knew. “I love you so much, Andrew, but I think we need a break.”

He’d been bluffing. He’d completely expected Nina to call him on it, grab for his hands across the table and tell him they could work through whatever his issues were together.

Instead, Nina presses his lips into a thin line, nodded, swallowed hard. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t, Monét wanted to scream. It wasn’t what he wanted at all. But something had to change. And all he could hope was that sooner or later, Nina would work out whatever his problems were. Monét tried not to let the weight of the unknown crush him as he rode back to the airport, unshed tears hot in his eyes as he deleted the red heart emoji from beside Nina’s name in his phone.

“Anyway…” Brooke and Vanjie have been passing the microphone for the last few minutes, and Monét has been paying just enough attention to look like the interested groomsman.

“There’s just a couple of people we really want to recognize because they’re very, extremely special to us,” Brooke says, extending a long arm. “None of this would be possible without my best man and dearest friend, Nina West, and I know how she gets during party planning, so we have to commend Monét as well for putting up with her.”

Monét starts at the mention of his name. He’d just assumed that Nina would tell Brooke and Vanessa about the end of their relationship. He isn’t sure how to proceed.

But then Brooke is gesturing for him to join them in the middle of the dance floor, and Vanjie is asking people how much they want to bet on Monét and Nina being the next two to get married (it opens a hole in the center of Monét’s chest, right there under his breastbone).

Monét drags himself to the center of the dance floor and hugs both Brooke and Vanessa quickly. Then he’s staring down Nina for the first time since they ended things and he’s frozen.

Nina blinks a few times, lets out a shuddering sigh, embraces him with shaky arms.

Brooke and Vanessa wouldn’t notice if a sinkhole opened in the middle of their reception, Monét is fairly certain, but he doesn’t want to make things awkward. So he hugs Nina back, breathes in his too-familiar scent that he’s missed so much, squeezes his biceps through his suit jacket.

Then there’s music, the mellow chords of a pop ballad playing in the background and Brooke and Vanessa are swaying on the dance floor, and motioning for them to do the same, before getting lost in each other once again.

Nina pulls out of their hug, clears his throat, and turns to head back to the buffet table, but Monét reaches down and grabs for his hand.

“Do you wanna…” Monét shrugs, nods toward the dance floor, and he expects Nina to decline, to tell him to go fuck himself because there are taking a break because it was something he wanted… “I mean, no pressure, but I think they wanted us to… So…”

Nina pauses, bites his lip, but then nods once and squeezes Monét’s hand as he steps into his arms.

They’re quiet for a moment and fall effortlessly into the rhythm that always came naturally to them, but Nina still won’t look him in the eye.

“How have you been?” Monét finally asks, forcing Nina’s gaze to him.

Nina shrugs. “Busy. I’ve had an engagement party to put together.”

“It’s beautiful,” Monét says honestly, and that draws the tiniest smile from Nina’s pretty mouth that Monét is desperate to see again.

“It’s what they deserve,” Nina responds quietly. “They went through a lot to get to this point. It’s… It’s the least I can do.”

They fall quiet again, spinning together on the dance floor amidst all their friends.

“I didn’t tell them,” Nina says after a long minute of silence, “because I didn’t want them to focus on us instead of them, and you know how Vanjie is. He wouldn’t have left it alone.”

“I get it.” Monét does. Really. Vanessa has always been too romantic for her own damn good, and Brooke is just as bad ever since they got engaged.

The music fades out. Monét stops moving (although he doesn’t want to) and turns loose of Nina’s hands. “Well.”

“Well.”

“Thanks for the dance, Nina West,” he says with a wink and turns to leave.

“I miss you,” Nina says quickly, quietly. “Can we… Could we talk? It doesn’t have to be tonight or anything, but… I want to talk about things. About us.”

Monét tries in vain to swallow around his heart, which has leapt into his throat and started beating double-time, pushing blood to his ears, his extremities, his mouth. It’s numb as he forces his lips to form around the words.

I’ve missed you I want you I love you so goddamn much this was a terrible idea why are we doing this again?

“Sure.”

“When?”

“Now’s good,” Monét says with a grin and extends his hand to Nina who takes it and follows him back to his table on the edge of the dance floor.

*****

“Looks like it worked,” Brooke whispers into Vanessa’s ear as he watches Monét lead Nina to a table on the outskirts of the party.

“Spin me.” They maneuver themselves so Vanjie can get a look at their friends bent low over drinks and hors d'oeuvres, faces lit by paper lanterns and twinkle lights. It’s a blink-and-you’d-miss-it detail. But their hands are interlaced under the table. Vanessa notices. He always notices those sorts of things.

Vanessa snorts. “‘Bout damn time those fools sat down and worked their shit out.” He smirks up at Brooke. “I told you it would work, baby.”

Brooke nods. “You did. Though I still don’t know how you worked out that they broke up anyway.”

Vanjie shrugs. “I’m observant. You’d be surprised what you learn about people just by paying attention to them.”

Brooke hums in agreement. “They can’t know,” he warns his fiance. “They worked so hard to keep it a secret from us.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Vanessa sees Monét place a gentle kiss on the corner of Nina’s mouth. He’ll let them think they worked it out on their own because it’s what they need. It’s what’s best, and Vanjie only wants what’s best for his friends. So this one? He’d love to take credit for it, love to hold it over their heads and use it in his speech at their engagement party someday… But he’ll let it slide. For the greater good.

He smiles and tiptoes up to receive a kiss from Brooke. “I know.”

[artificialqueens]

Bad Girls Club (Branjie) Chapter 2 - Joley

a/n: you can also read on AO3

“Why am I keeping watch, again?” Brooke Lynn asked in an anxious whisper, looking over her shoulder every few seconds as they walked, as if she sincerely expected someone to jump out of the bushes and catch them.

A’keria rolled her eyes. “Because you’ll take the least heat if you get caught,” she explained, murmuring to herself that letting her tag along was a bad idea and, “If Vanjie wasn’t so horny, we wouldn’t be stuck with her…”

“Both of you shut up, we’re almost there,” Vanessa snapped, the group of five pushing forward until they reached their destination.

Under the moonlight, the lake was beautifully illuminated, bringing a calm, picturesque frame around it. At the right angle, it could’ve been the stock image for a postcard. And it was quiet – a drastic contrast from every other moment of the program – only the sound of crickets and frogs filled the air. Truly, it felt like the only good and pure location they could reach for miles.

Then the girls began stripping and ‘pure’ was promptly removed from the descriptors. That had been the plan – sneak out after dinner for a late-night skinny dip, an act of rebellion both towards the program and the societal constraints that led them there in the first place. It was a moment to be fun and free – they would be damned if they didn’t jump on the chance.

“Hey Vanj, do you think the water’s clean? I bet it’s full of—Vanj? Vanjie?” Yvie made a couple of attempts to get the other girl’s attention, waving her hand in front of her face, before realizing why she didn’t stand a chance.

As soon as Brooke Lynn started undressing, Vanessa was a goner. Her gaze instantly fixated on the statuesque silhouette, watching the way the moonlight bounced off her porcelain skin, the way her toned muscles flexed as she moved. It almost felt too good to be true to be able to get to see her naked like this, so open and exposed.

“Would you like a bucket for your drool?” Scarlet teased, bumping shoulders with Vanessa and bringing her back to Earth, reluctant as she may be.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and shoved her away. “Eat me, bitch.”

“Uh-uh, you’ve got the wrong white girl.” She smirked before following Yvie and A’keria down the dock, a blissfully oblivious Brooke Lynn following the three of them with Vanessa on their tails.

Splash after splash, each girl descended into the freezing lake water, all of them doing their best not to squeal at the jarring temperature change. They all swam to the edge, giggling and catching their breath.

“Why does swimming naked feel so good anyway? Like, I feel like that’s objectively weird, but it’s nice,” Brooke mused, propping her arms up on the grass and looking back towards the main grounds.

“Freedom,” Vanessa offered as an answer. “We got full control of our bodies, choices, it’s like sticking it to the man and shit.“

The other girls nodded in agreement. “That’s so profound, Vanjie.” Yvie toed the line of sincerity. “But we better wrap this up fast if we wanna escape with our lives.” And with that, they all pushed themselves out of the water and towards the pile of their clothes. The fabric clung to their wet bodies, but nobody seemed to mind, still reveling in the experiences all the way back to their respective rooms.

“You know,” Brooke started as she changed into her pajamas. “I felt like I got a lot closer to everyone. It felt like a summer camp moment.” She smiled as she towel-dried her still damp hair. “Is that lame?”

Vanessa chuckled fondly. “Nah, that’s sweet. Don’t tell no one I said that though,” she told her as she got into bed. Honestly, she kind of loved that cheesy holding hands around the campfire bonding she was talking about. “You feeling less boring now, at least?”

Brooke Lynn beamed proudly as she tucked herself in. “I do! And I’m gonna help you too next time. You know, with getting authority figures on your side.”

“We make a good team.” She hummed sleepily before her eyes shut.

——

“I’ve seen you staring at me, Vanjie,” Brooke Lynn cooed as she sauntered towards her. “You like what you see, baby?” She had Vanessa trapped on the bed, hovering over her with a wide smirk.

And Vanessa was helpless, frozen with no desire to move. She gazed up at Brooke with wide eyes, her heart racing. “Yes” was all she had managed to get out before Brooke’s lips were on her neck, hands roaming up and down her body. She shuddered as her smooth, slender fingers trailed down her torso until they hooked into the waistband of her pajama shorts, starting to tug them down and—

That fucking alarm. Vanessa groaned into her pillow, her arm flapping around blindly until it landed on her phone to shut it off. It was as bad a punishment as everything else in this goddamn program. She rolled onto her back reluctantly and noticed that Brooke Lynn wasn’t even in the room, let alone her bed. And, considering the wetness that had pooled between her thighs overnight, she was more than a little relieved.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Brooke chirped as she returned to the room – hair in a high ponytail and dressed in a sweat-stained tank top and shorts. “I just went for a jog. I would’ve invited you, but you looked so cute and peaceful.” She hummed as she got changed. Truth be told, she would have been far too distracted to get any actual exercise in had Vanessa accompanied her. Being around Vanessa in general was distracting if she thought about it – not that she would ever allow herself to.

Vanessa put on her most convincingly nonchalant smile as she swung her legs over to dangle off the side of the bed, toes just grazing the wooden floor. “Yeah, set my alarm like you been telling me, thank god.” She confirmed as she did her hair. “Did you do any of the assignments for today?” she asked offhandedly – anything to distract herself from that dream.

“I did and you can copy whatever you need to.” Brooke shrugged.“Yeah? You don’t have some sort of fuckin’… moral issue with it or whatever?” Vanessa asked with a laugh as they headed towards the other building.

Brooke shook her head. “Listen, I know we’re all here for the same reason, to stay out of trouble. No one gives a fuck if we actually learn anything as long as we don’t make any fuss,” she explained. “Everyone cheats to get ahead in private schools. Better grades get bigger grants, it’s the name of the game, babe.” Not leaving room for a rebuttal, she made her way into the classroom with her breakfast bag in hand.

Vanessa had to consciously close her mouth as she stared after Brooke Lynn. She blinked rapidly and pattered after her. Was that side of her there the whole time? Suffice it to say, more than her interest was piqued.

“How have you been holding up, honey?” Nina asked as Brooke perched herself on her desk. “I can only imagine this has been a bit of a roller coaster for you.”

Brooke laughed dryly, staring off in front of her. Roller coaster was one way of putting it, sure, but a tornado might be more accurate. “That’s one way of putting it.” She sighed, then looked towards her. “Can I ask you something?” After the teacher nodded, she continued. “How do you feel about summer flings?”

“Why, what have you heard?” Nina’s eyes darted back and forth anxiously.

While Brooke did often confide in Nina, the opportunity to deflect and distract was just too good to pass up. “Oh my god, do you have a crush on someone? Here? Who? You have to tell me,” she insisted, bouncing excitedly.

Nina, of course, instantly regretted jumping to conclusions. In retrospect, it was glaringly obvious that the student had come to her to discuss her own matters of the heart. Great. Fantastic. Well, there was nothing else she could do but bite the bullet and confess. “Your home ec teacher, Monét. I don’t know how or why it happened but… Well, I guess it started over a group discussion over how we were going to structure our classes, and we both got mad about how some of the people in charge were talking about you guys. She’s so passionate about making sure you guys still get to be teenagers, it’s so sweet.”

This was thrilling for Brooke Lynn. Some high schoolers might find it weird or gross to know about their teachers’ love lives. There was always that moment when a teacher would come to class visibly pregnant and after the excitement died down, the class was left with the thought of someone fucking them raw. But she didn’t see Nina as a teacher, or any authority figure, really. She was more of an older sister or cousin, a friend with more life experience. So, to find out she was going through such a similar issue? It was nearly too perfect.

“That’s so cute, I’m gonna die. Does she know? Does she like you?”

“Oh, I regret this already.” Nina chuckled dryly and hid her face in her hands. “You know I have no idea when someone’s flirting with me, Brooke. I have no idea.” She lamented before bolting upright. “But don’t you dare try to meddle in this shit.” Her eyes narrowed at Brooke, trying her best to look stern and serious towards someone that was physically incapable of being intimidated by her.

Brooke Lynn gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll be good. I promise.” She raised her hand to swear and hopped off the desk. “I’ll get out of your hair. I promised Vanessa I’d teach her how to skip stones by the lake during rec time anyway.”

Nina cocked her head to the side curiously. “Mateo? Your roommate?” She leaned forward. “Is that, perchance, who you were going to ask me about in regards to a summer fling?”

“Hey, don’t try to deflect onto me.” Brooke laughed despite how red her cheeks had turned. “Good luck with your teacher crush!” she called out, already halfway out the door.

——

“On Ms. Monét? Deadass?” Vanessa asked as she and Brooke Lynn walked towards the lake. Occasionally their hands would brush against each other, but they would always stop just shy of letting their fingers interlace. “That’s fuckin’ wild. You know, she and A’keria been real buddy-buddy, I could have her put in a good word if—”

“Don’t you dare!” Brooke laughed. “She’ll lose her shit if she finds out I told you, let alone have it spread around,” she explained, stopping when they reached their destination. “It feels different in the daytime, doesn’t it?”It was the same lake that they had all been naked in the night before, but it may as well have been another body of water entirely. It was still serene, but it had a vibrant hue and warmth that retreated into the shadows when the sun went down. Now, it’d feel wrong to interrupt that scene with nudity – not that either would be opposed to watching the other strip down in better lighting.

Brooke Lynn crouched down, picked up a smooth stone, and walked towards the edge, stopping about a foot before the land meets the sea and waited for Vanessa to join her. She handed her the rock with a smile. “I want you to give it a try on your own first,” she instructed, taking a few cautious steps back.

Vanessa hurled the stone into the water like it’d just catcalled her from across the street. It didn’t skip, instead crashing into the water with a splash. Even though she doubted that she did it right, she still turned to Brooke with a toothy grin. “How was that?”

“Angry,” she answered, giggling softly. “Like the lake owes you money.” It took a couple of moments to procure another stone that could get the job done, and Brooke placed it gingerly in her hand. “Okay, I’m going to get you in the right position.”

And Vanessa was about to make some sort of sexual innuendo, but then Brooke got behind her and wrapped her arms around her like the pottery scene in Ghost and words were suddenly unnecessary. She felt her hand move from her shoulder to her wrist, placing her arm just so. Vanessa bit her lip – Brooke’s body was pressed right against her from behind, the taller girl manipulating her stance and sending her heartbeat into overdrive.

Was it actually necessary for Brooke to be all up on her like that? No, but she wasn’t about to point that out any time soon. “Perfect.” She took a step to the side. “Try it now.”

To her pleasant surprise, Vanessa got the stone to skip four times before it was submerged under water. “I did it!” Her face lit up with excitement. She turned to Brooke, eyes wide and sparkling with joy. “That was so fucking cool!”

Brooke’s smile reached her eyes as she watched Vanessa bubble over with enthusiasm. “God, you’re so adorable.”

“Huh?”

“I said… I think I heard the bell. We better head back inside.”

——

It was just past one in the morning and Brooke Lynn was wide awake, staring silently at the ceiling. She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was preventing her from sleeping but avoiding talking about her growing feelings for the girl in the bed five feet from was probably playing a role in it. And normally she avoided staring at her for long, but her brows furrowed, and she rolled onto her side when she heard Vanessa mumbling because she swore, she heard her name somewhere in the otherwise unintelligible noises.

Vanessa lay with her head pushed back into her pillows and her back curved up, though being under her blanket it wasn’t fully visible. That was necessary, as she was doing more than just arching her back under the covers. Her hand was hidden inside her shorts, two fingers pressed against her clit and rubbing in increasingly fervent circles. The other hand moved up under her tank top, groping her breasts and tweaking her nipples, anything to get any more stimulation. Her eyes fluttered shut, letting her imagination take over and her hands do all the work.

For the most part, Vanessa was biting down on her lip, but whenever they parted, soft, breathy moans escaped. But that wasn’t all – when she tilted her head towards the wall, “Fuck, Brooke…” slipped out in a whimper. It devolved back to heavy breathing as her fingers moved down, pressing into her pussy as she only continued to work herself into a frenzy.

Brooke’s eyes shot wide as she flopped onto her back, feeling a blush spread across her face and down her chest. There was little room for misinterpretation – Vanessa was getting off and thinking of her. Her mind went wild with curiosity – was this the first time it happened? Or the more pressing question – what specifically was she imagining? She was hit with the intense desire to run over and act out whatever fantasy was eliciting those pretty moans from Vanessa.

Vanessa pushed her face into her pillows when she found it more difficult to stay quiet. Her hand left her breasts, allowing her to focus on pumping two fingers in and out, bucking into her own touch, chasing the sensation. Her hips started to jerk unsteadily and her teeth gnashing at the pillowcase just to keep herself quiet. And within a few minutes, she was still and silent. Her breathing evened out and she was out cold.

God, if Brooke was having trouble sleeping before, it would be impossible now. It didn’t seem real – maybe she was delirious from lack of sleep. Or maybe she was projecting, some wishful thinking perhaps. Either way, she was left with a hot, throbbing sensation that wasn’t about to go away any time soon.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, hand going into her pajama bottoms and eyes closing. Feelings could wait until the morning, she needed this now.

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (7/8)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter)/~19.2k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

Read on AO3

------

“So, how have you been?”

It was the most innocuous question possible, but Brooke Lynn already felt like she was in an interrogation room – the kind where the only light came from a lamp that was being shone in her face. Her hands were clammy, and her gaze fixated on the table. The pounding in her chest coupled with a ringing in her ears and made it near impossible to think straight. “Good enough,” she answered with no idea if it was actually her voice.

Kameron gave a short nod of understanding. “Maybe not the best question to ask, all things considered,” she conceded. “But I couldn’t leave without catching up with you, and maybe a few other things…”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

She quirked her brow before laughing and shaking her head. “No, no, that ship has sailed. I’m much more interested in whatever’s going on between you and that little firecracker you were staring at the whole time. This is new for you and I’m intrigued.”

Brooke flushed a deep red, swallowing thickly and clearing her throat. “Why are you so interested in my love life? I figured you of all people would be the last to want to meddle.” In this camp alone, she could think of at least three more obvious suspects for that sort of thing.

Kameron shrugged. “My shift ended, and I have an hour to kill, might as well make you squirm. Besides, I meant it when I said you and I are cool – just because you’re used to everyone lying and being passive aggressive doesn’t mean I’m looped into that.”

And she had a point – realizing that some people actually do mean what they say was an important life lesson Brooke Lynn had been taking away from her time here. It had been jarring at first, how blunt everyone could be, but she had come to appreciate the fact that, nine times out of ten, she knew exactly what she was getting into with someone. Sure, growing up in an emotionally repressed environment made her more intuitive, but at the cost of constantly questioning where she actually stood with people. “So, what, you’re gonna mediate some sort of therapy session between us?”

“Oh, good idea!”

“Wait, no—” But she was already being dragged across the dining hall.

Then Kameron got a hold of Vanessa’s wrist with her free hand and suddenly they were both being escorted outside without anyone around them giving it a second thought. This allowed her to take the girls outside, sitting in a patch of grass. “Okay, ladies! Couples’ therapy is in session.”

“Couples?” Both girls questioned in unison.

“Situationship therapy isn’t as catchy, work with me,” she rolled her eyes. “Now, tell Dr. Michaels what the trouble is.”

“Hey, I wanna see your medical license!” Vanessa could feel Kameron’s glare burning a hole into the side of her head, and – despite the fact it did make Brooke laugh – she gave in. “Fine, fine,” she sighed dramatically. “I took it personally when Brooke Lynn said she wanted to forget this place and go back to her normal life because it felt like I don’t mean nothing to her. Can I go now?”

“That’s not how therapy works. Sit,” Kameron reprimanded and watched Vanessa sit with crossed arms and furrowed brows, finding her defiant pout almost amusing.

Brooke Lynn, on the other hand, was far less amused. “That’s what this was about? My family life is strained to the breaking point, my future has been dangling in the balance, I have no fucking idea what sort of hell on earth I could be facing when I go back to school, and you made all of that about yourself?” She was seething, vitriol shooting off every word. It was hard to avoid tripping over herself as she scrambled to her feet. “This is beyond playing Dr. Phil, Kameron. This is… I don’t know what the fuck this is, other than fucking insane.” Turning on her heel, she all but sprinted off.

Vanessa was quick on her feet despite the sudden panic that sunk her heart into the pit of her stomach. “Brooke! Brooke Lynn, wait! Let me explain!” she shouted, running as fast as her short legs would carry her across the wide expanse of grass.

Even though Kameron suddenly found herself left in the dust, she was unfazed. She nodded observantly, brows knitting together. “Guess ‘marriage counselor’ is off the potential career list,” she decided, brushing herself off and returning to the dining hall. The other girls from her group had asked about her disappearance with marginal interest but accepted ‘just needed some air’ at face value.

Meanwhile, Brooke Lynn had made it nearly a quarter mile down the camp’s nature trail before Vanessa caught up to her. Sure, she could have pushed it further, but despite her fury, she knew she couldn’t outrun the inevitable confrontation forever. They did still share a room, after all – and it was way too far into the summer to try to change that. She whirled around, making the other girl skid to a halt, dirt kicking up at her heels. “Fine. Talk,” Brooke snapped.

There was a brief moment where Vanessa forgot all she had to say, but as soon as she began, the words flowed out. “Look, I know I always be walkin’ around like I’m the shit and all that. And I don’t really suffer from no low self-esteem or whatever, but I know I’m not smart, I know I probably won’t ever amount to nothing. So when someone like you, someone so fucking far out of my league… when whatever we had started… I don’t know, I felt special.” She looked away and sniffled, a wave of humiliation hitting her as she forced herself to come to terms with what had been building up inside of her over the past few weeks. “Then you started talking about going home and it was the reality check I was afraid of. Guess I was mad at you ‘cause I was mad at myself or something.”

Brooke Lynn didn’t know what she was expecting Vanessa to say – she had learned early on in their relationship that anticipating anything that came out of her mouth was essentially impossible – but that confession had caught her completely off guard. There was an emotional self-awareness that blew her away. She was sure A’keria had helped her get there, but that didn’t lessen how impressed she was. But at the same time, her heart broke for her – those insecurities were real and raw and spoke volumes about who Vanessa was. Yes, she was still frustrated, but it was hard to stay angry at her, leaving her quiet as she took it all in.

“You probably hate me now, huh?”

The brokenness in Vanessa’s voice hit her again. Brooke shook her head, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “I could never hate you. I just don’t have it in me.” She exhaled deeply, looking up at the bright, sunny sky. It almost mocked them with how perfectly cheery it was, like the sun had no right to shine that bright when their hearts felt so dark and heavy. “And for what it’s worth, you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You are the very definition of special, Vanessa.” There was a brief pause before she followed up with, “I meant that as a compliment, not shade.”

Vanessa managed a soft laugh, pushing the hair out of her eyes, even if her gaze was fixed squarely on the ground. “I know what you meant,” she assured and let out a deep sigh. When her mom would say that sort of thing to her, she could never fully shake the sense that there was a hint of obligation – your mom has to tell you you’re special, right? But when Brooke said it, it felt real and made her feel special. “So, where we at now?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Brooke Lynn hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Meet me at the lake after dinner, we’ll see how we feel then.” The lake had grown to have a sentimental meaning for them – if there were any spot to determine their fate, that had to be it.

“We’ll see how we feel,” Vanessa echoed and turned to make the walk back to the dining hall. It felt like such a long trek when she wasn’t chasing after someone.

------

“It kind of sounds like you’ve got your course of action figured out,” Nina mused observantly. “What are you looking for me to tell you, exactly?”

Brooke shrugged, tugging at the strings hanging off the frayed ends of her denim shorts. “I just wish I knew how to figure out what I feel. I’m used to everything being clear cut. Vanessa is just… She’s so… I’ve never met anyone like her before. And no one has ever made me feel like this before.”

Her teacher let out a good-natured laugh and shook her head. “I swear, it’s like you forget that you’re seventeen. You’re experiencing a lot of firsts, that’s what being a teenager is all about. I think meeting someone like Vanessa is good for you, and no matter what your relationship ends up being, I think you’ll have grown for it.”

“That doesn’t make this any easier.” She kicked her legs and whined. “This is tonight, I need to bring an answer or I’m gonna look like an asshole.”

“You’re overthinking things again, Brooke,” Nina gently pointed out. “All you need to do is speak from the heart and the rest will follow.” At the end of the day, she knew the teen wanted an impossible solution that wrapped up her story in a neat bow. While she was flattered by her unwavering faith, she just couldn’t seem to drive home the reality of the situation.

Brooke rolled her eyes dramatically and laid back on the desk. “God, that’s so lame. Does Monét like that sort of cheesy shit?” Deflecting to their relationship seemed to be a go-to for both herself and Vanessa when they didn’t want to be faced with the reality of their circumstances.

It was most likely due to the fact that it always garnered the same reaction – the teachers would recoil and blush. They would stammer and lose their train of thought and give the flustered teens a moment to recuperate.

Unfortunately for Brooke, Nina seemed unfazed this time around. In fact, she smirked. “Actually, she does,” she grinned. “And do you know why I know that? Because we talk and communicate our feelings like human beings. You should try it.”

“You didn’t have to come for me like that,” Brooke mumbled. Nina must have picked that up from Monét, she thought and momentarily regretted her matchmaking decision.

------

A’keria looked at Vanessa with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She pensively cocked her head to the side, and it took much longer than her friend would have liked before she started talking. “You’re a hot fucking mess, you know that, right? You both are.”

“Maybe so.” Vanessa clicked her tongue. “But that doesn’t answer my question, bitch. What the fuck am I s’posed to do at the lake?”

The eyeroll she received in response wasn’t helpful, but it wasn’t unexpected either. “Have you ever solved a romantic problem by yourself? When you gonna realize that there ain’t no one that can tell you how to feel about Brooke Lynn. That’s between you and her.”

Vanessa pouted and crossed her arms, actively looking down and away from her. “Look, you know damn well I ain’t never gonna meet another girl like her… Maybe that’s for the best. But I don’t wanna fuck this shit up. I’ll never forgive myself if I do.”

A’keria sighed, her expression softening. She wrapped her arm around the smaller girl and squeezed her shoulder. “Vanjie, even if it is the worst-case scenario – you guys don’t work out and don’t see each other again – life goes on. Your heart will heal, and you’ll find another girl worthy of all the love you’ve got to give and will welcome it with open arms.”

Deep in her heart, Vanessa knew there was truth in her friend’s words. She had healed her broken heart before, life had gone on. Even with that, however, she couldn’t let go of the idea that this would be her ‘one that got away,’ the ‘what if’ that she would look back on with a sense of longing when she was old and gray. But she didn’t have the words to convey that sense of fear. “I guess so.”

It wasn’t an especially convincing statement, but A’keria knew when to stop pushing. She gave her a hug from the side before letting go and standing up. “Come on, let’s get a snack or something. Can’t have romantic revelations on an empty stomach, right?”

------

The lake was as serene as ever when Vanessa and Brooke Lynn approached it. Crickets were chirping, the water was still, the full moon illuminated the picturesque scene. It was just the neutral environment that they needed for this conversation.

They sat down cross-legged and faced each other. It took what felt like ages (but in reality, was less than a minute) before either of them spoke, but Vanessa was the one to break the silence.

“I thought I’d know what to say when I got here, but I still don’t know shit,” she confessed. “All I know is I’m tired of fighting with you and worrying about everything I do. I don’t care if I’m not good enough for you – one of the first things you said to me was that we’re equal here.”

Brooke Lynn shook her head. “I don’t want you to think you not being good enough is the issue. I’m not better than you because of where I come from, or at all.” She reached out and took her hands. “Why don’t we just make the most of the time we have together?”

Vanessa didn’t need clarification when it came to that. She moved closer until she was sat on Brooke’s lap, her arms draped around her neck and their lips connecting in a tender kiss. That was all they needed, it seemed, for all their worries and fears to melt away.

Brooke’s arms wrapped around Vanessa’s waist and held her close as the kiss deepened. After a moment, she slipped her hand under her shirt, pushing it up inch by inch before she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she breathed out.

“And you not half bad yourself,” Vanessa smirked, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck, until her lips latched onto her pulse point and left a hickey in its wake. If the moan Brooke let out was any clue, that was the right spot, leading her to pay extra attention to the dark, purple mark that was forming, only breaking contact to take her shirt off as well.

They didn’t talk much after that – instead, there was an eager, haphazard mess of limbs as they tried to undress each other as quickly as they could manage, each article of clothing landing somewhere in the grass.

When they were naked, Vanessa pinned Brooke to the ground, a mischievous smirk on her lips. Normally, she would have submitted control to the blonde, but she wanted to channel everything she had been feeling over the past few days into the perfect, lustful expression. She trailed her lips down her body, not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

While Vanessa’s hand moved between Brooke Lynn’s thighs, her mouth moved to both of her breasts, massaging her nipples with her tongue and savoring the moans it elicited. She started with her hand by pressing her thumb to her clit, rubbing in small circles while she slowly kissed down to her lower abdomen.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna take care of you too,” Brooke insisted, and – despite Vanessa’s original plan – she had her hands bracing on her hips in a matter of seconds. She didn’t wait for her to start before she traced her tongue in a line down her slit before wiggling it inside.

“Fuck…” Vanessa exhaled softly, momentarily distracted before she gathered herself enough to reciprocate. She had a firm grip on Brooke’s thighs, fingernails digging into her flesh as she licked and sucked on her clit with a fervor that was reserved exclusively for her.

Vanessa’s skill and enthusiasm had a clear effect on Brooke Lynn. Her body twitched and trembled under her touch, causing her own ministrations to be erratic and fierce. She was the first to come, too, moaning out despite how stifled it was.

Even though she couldn’t hear it clearly, Vanessa knew when she had gotten Brooke off, paying extra attention to work her through her orgasm. It wasn’t until she was certain she was spent before she shifted to just riding her face, clasping her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at keeping quiet – the last thing they needed was to wake up an adult.

Brooke was able to focus all of her attention on eating Vanessa out as soon as she was able to move her body as she needed to, her hands roaming the expanse of her thighs and torso while she refused to come up for air.

“O-Oh god, fuck, fuck, Brooke!” Staying quiet proved to be too difficult of a task when Vanessa approached her climax. She bit down on her lip, whimpering and whining as she rode it out.

When Vanessa had calmed down from her orgasmic high, Brooke scooped her up in her arms and held her close. They lay in relative silence – their breathing still audibly heavy – and basked in the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Maybe this did clear the fog of confused emotions that had incessantly followed them, or maybe it threw a wrench into things. All either of them knew was that there was nowhere in the world they’d rather be than in each other’s arms.

[artificialqueens]

Exercise in folly 2.0 - Chapter 2.1 (Craquaria) - SamWhity

Title: Exercise in Folly 2.0

Summary: Monét looked at her with disbelief, before sighing: “Giovanni never saw the damn video. He dodged the whole thing like a pro because he was trying to be your friend”. “He’s my friend”. Cracker’s answer came without any hesitation, so natural and passionate that the other queen smiled softly. “Cracks…” Summary of the chapter: Maxwell tries again and receives an unexpected answer. Giovanni sulks and Kevin and Nicola are the best friends we all should wish for. Author’s note: Even though Aquaria and Jordan Stawecki seem to be friendly with eachother again, I decided to have them still un-reconciled for the time being. Everything you will read about this moment in time and the so-called drama should be furthermore considered purely fictional and nothing that is portrayed here has any legitimacy.

Chapter one

You keep me up at night To my messages, you do not reply You know I still like you the most The best of the best and the worst of the worst Well, you can never know The places that I go I still like you the most You’ll always be my favorite ghost

(Florence + The Machine, Big God)

Even though he deeply enjoyed touring with others queens, Maxwell Heller couldn’t help himself from sighing contently while putting down his luggage in the entrance of his apartment.

“Home sweet home”, he mumbled with a smile, before closing the door behind him.

“Coffee?”, Kathelyn asked while making her way to the kitchen.

“Of course”, the man answered, then he picked up one suitcase and started unpacking the gifts and fanarts he received on the road.

Just as he started reading a very long letter, his phone vibrated.

Monét X-Change, 2:34 pm: Got home safe?

Monét X-Change, 2:34 pm: We’re having dinner at mine, with Dustin and Yuhua. You coming?

Monét X-Change, 2:35 pm: I’ll ask Giovanni as well, but only the Lord knows what is up with that twink nowadays…

Monét X-Change, 2:35 pm: You coming, right?

Monét X-Change, 2:36 pm: Come on Cracks, answer already!

Maxwell chuckled, clearly amused by his friend’s lack of patience, before typing a short answer.

Miz Cracker, 2:37 pm: All right, all right. I’ll be there.

Monét X-Change, 2:38 pm: Perfect! Bring Kathelyn with you, it will be fun!

“What are you laughing at?”, his best friend asked, while handing him a mug full of steaming coffee.

“Kevin is being ridiculous as usual”, he explained, before taking a sip of the beverage and wincing in pain “Shit! That was really hot!”.

Kathelyn rolled her eyes, before going to her bedroom and starting to unpack.

“I’ll see a couple of friends tonight, don’t wait for me”, she said, while folding a shirt.

Maxwell nodded, then he added: “I’ll be at Kevin’s for dinner, don’t worry”.

The scoff he received as an answer was followed by a quick: “Well now I’m worried. Don’t get into any trouble, Mister”.

The look she received as an answer was enough to make her giggle.

“I love you too”, she conceded with a soft smile, then she closed the door behind her.

Kathelyn, 2:43 pm: I’m serious. We don’t have enough money to pay bail yet.

Kathelyn, 2:43 pm: Can you imagine? Okay, Kathelyn, time for slob.

Kathelyn, 2:44 pm: You have to admit that it was pretty funny.

Kathelyn, 2:44 pm: Right?

Kathelyn, 2:44 pm: RIGHT?!

Maxwell, 2:45 pm: I was waiting for you to finish your little piece…

Kathelyn, 2:45 pm: Don’t be so salty… :P

Maxwell, 2:46 pm: I will call in intervention, if you don’t stop

Maxwell, 2:47 pm: I’ve warned you

Kathelyn, 2:47 pm: You’re no fun…

After a couple of minutes, Maxwell’s phone vibrated once again, making him snort.

Kathelyn, 2:52 pm: You have to admit it. It’s time for slob was HILARIOUS.

***

Nicola, 2:43 pm: I just received the upteenth video of “Viva Las Vegas”. Please send help.

Giovanni Palandrani, barely awake but already in a weird mood, chuckled at his phone. With a little smile on his lips, he typed an answer.

Giovanni, 2:44 pm: Oh, poor you. Do you want me to send you “New York, New York”, just to switch it up a little bit?

The answer he got made him giggle stupidly.

Nicola, 2:45 pm: Do not even dare, kid! Otherwise I will personally ask Gaga to strike you from her beloved list of the most loyal fans!

Nicola, 2:45 pm: Where has the respect for the elders gone?

Nicola, 2:46 pm: Not that I’m old.

Nicola, 2:46 pm: Because I am certainly not old, understood?

Giovanni’s smile grew bigger. He quickly replied, before making his way to the balcony of the hotel room.

Giovanni, 2:47 pm: I would never imply you are old. I will just state that Shaquida was still going to daycare, while you were already driving one of those ugly tanks you like so much.

Giovanni, 2:48 pm: To quote Bob the Drag Queen, Nicola Formichetti is so old, he would probably die the moment he decided to act his age.

He did not receive any kind of answer for a couple of minutes and the lack of response made him worry he took it too far. Why was he always taking it too far?

“Goddamn it, Giovanni”, he murmured, before typing quickly.

Giovanni, 2:51 pm: It was totally inappropriate, I am so sorry! I should have just shut up.

Giovanni, 2:51 pm: Sorry, I am just in a weird mood. I am so so sorry…

Giovanni, 2:52 pm: I understand if you’re mad now but please know I really did not mean it in a disrespectful way.

The answer he got made him snort his water and sigh with relief at the same time.

Nicola, 2:54 pm: RELAX, I was just busy. I know how to roll with the punches kid… ;)

“You bastard”, he whispered, before answering.

Giovanni, 2:55 pm: Busy recording yourself playing the piano? Charming… :P

Nicola, 2:55 pm: Can we please go back to the apology? I liked you way better when you were sincerely apologizing…

Giovanni started laughing, before realising someone knocked at his hotel door.

“It’s open”, he said.

One of the hotel’s butlers was standing in front of the door, looking at him composedly, his hands hidden behind his back.

“The car will be here in less than forty minutes, sir”, he announced, before handing him a bouquet of flowers and adding: “Someone left this for you at the counter, today”.

The young man thanked him, before closing the door behind him and starting to gather his suitcases. He could do it even without Jordan, he thought to himself.

He put the bouquet on top of his carry-on, before picking the card and reading it out loud.

“To Aquaria. Thanks for the most amazing show I could possibly wish for. You are one of the best performers I had the pleasure to witness and I can’t wait to see you again, slaying on stage. Xoxo”

The boy smiled, before taking a picture of the sweet gift and uploading it to his Instastories with the caption “Blessed” and a smiling kitty.

In that exact moment, his phone vibrated again.

Monét X-Change, 3:04 pm: We’re having dinner at mine today! You’re in right?

He smiled, excited at the idea of seeing Kevin, before realizing he could not possibly make it to New York on time and sighing.

Aquaria, 3:04 pm: I wish! I’ll be back later tonight :(

Aquaria, 3:05 pm: You can feed me leftovers for brunch tomorrow, if you’re free. :D

Monét X-Change 3:05 pm: Lunch at mine and it’s a date. ;)

Aquaria, 3:06 pm: Now that took a turn…

Monét X-Change, 3:06 pm: You bitch!!!

Monét X-Change, 3:06 pm: You only wish…

A quick glance at his watch made him realize his ride would have arrived in a couple of minutes. He put his bags on the trolley he got from the reception and made his way to the elevator.

“You can make it, see?”, he murmured to himself, trying to avoid thinking about the whole drama around Jordan and his sudden interest in Los Angeles.

Once in the elevator, he found another text.

Miz Cracker, 3:12 pm: Are you coming to Monét’s?

He quickly left the message on read, before going back to the other one and trying to come up with a silly if not funny answer.

Aquaria, 3:12 pm: Last time I checked, I already gave to charity. Like a ton. Maybe next year you’ll be luckier ;)

“Weak”, he murmured to himself, before exiting the elevator and waiting for the car in the lobby of the hotel.

His phone vibrated again.

Miz Cracker, 3:14 pm: Are you purposefully ignoring me?

Miz Cracker, 3:14 pm: If you do not feel like talking it’s fine, just stop leaving me on read.

Miz Cracker, 3:15 pm: For real, Giovanni.

With a sigh, Giovanni locked the screen and saw the car approaching. He exited the building, put his sunglasses on and smiled at the driver, who then proceeded to load the suitcases in the trunk. He sat in the back-seat and put on his headphones, trying to come up with an answer for Cracker as well. Nothing. His phone vibrated once again.

Monét X-Change, 3:22 pm: You little sly bitch…

Monét X-Change, 3:22 pm: Have you talked to Cracks, btw?

Monét X-Change, 3:23 pm: And don’t you even dare to play dumb. You know better.

“Shit”, Giovanni murmured, before biting his lower lip and typing a couple of words.

Aquaria, 3:24 pm: I don’t know what to say.

Monét X-Change, 3:25 pm: Kid… just tell him how you felt while watching that video.

Aquaria, 3:25 pm: It’s not that.

Aquaria, 3:25 pm: It’s a lot more than that and I do not know how to react. And fucking everything around me is crumbling…

Monét X-Change, 3:26 pm: I heard about Jordan. I’m sorry, baby.

Aquaria, 3:26 pm: Can we please not talk about it now? I don’t really feel like crying in a taxi…

Monét X-Change, 3:27 pm: Of course, baby. Of course. I will see you tomorrow okay? Come at around one and we’ll have a kiki.

Aquaria, 3:27 pm: Thank you, Kevin. :*

“We’re here”, the driver pulled over, before exiting and starting to look for a cart to put Giovanni’s luggage on.

The young man exited the car as well, then took his bag and thanked the driver with a polite smile.

“Keep the change”, he said, while handing him some cash.

He quickly entered the airport and deposited his suitcases, before heading to the lounge and helping himself with a glass of juice.With a sigh, he took his phone out of his bag and tried to come up with a reply for Maxwell.

Nothing. Again.

The screen lit up for a quick second.

Nicola, 3:51 pm: Already at the airport? How are you feeling?

He bit his lower lip, before answering.

Giovanni, 3:52 pm: Honestly? I don’t know… I have so many things on my mind and I can’t stop thinking about other things and all this thinking is making me crazy.

“Way to go, Giovanni. You really have a way with words”, he sneered, after reading the message once again.

Nicola, 3:52 pm: Care to untuck? (See what I did there?)

Giovanni smiled at the attempt at making him laugh, before typing further.

Aquaria, 3:53 pm: I do not know where to begin, honestly… there is so much going on and I have so little control over how things are going…

Nicola, 3:54 pm: I will take an educated guess and say it has little to do with the lack of creativity in your current work, right?

Nicola, 3:54 pm: And before you start, your work is still fucking incredible.

Nicola, 3:55 pm: But I’ve known you long enough, kid…

The young man sighed, before answering.

Giovanni, 3:56 pm: I am in a weird place, right now. After all this drama about Jordan and people assuming I treated him like a fucking slave, I had to sit and watch that video. And it stung more than I could ever predict.

Giovanni quickly realized he was close to tears and decided to put his sunglasses back on, just to prevent a scene.

The other man’s answer was concise.

Nicola, 3:58 pm: Tell him

Nicola, 3:58 pm: Tell him that it hurt and maybe you can sort this shit out

Giovanni, 3:59 pm: Maybe

Nicola, 4:00 pm: Listen, I’ll be in NYC tomorrow afternoon. Sushi at mine?

Giovanni smiled: the care that man had for him was something he was incredibly grateful for, even if he could not quite figure out why the older one was caring so much. He quickly typed an answer.

Giovanni, 4:01 pm: I could use some sushi for dinner tomorrow, actually

Nicola, 4:01 pm: Then it’s a date! Let’s say at 9 PM?

Giovanni, 4:02 pm: That sounds perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Nicola, 4:03 pm: See you tomorrow, kid. Be safe xoxo

When his flight was announced, the young man got up quickly and made his way towards the gate. Once seated, he closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

***

“Guess who’s back in da house!”.

Kevin welcomed him with a solid hug and a warm smile. Maxwell entered the apartment, hung is coat and made his way to the kitchen, where Yuhua and Dustin were chatting sipping on some cheap wine.

“Hi guys”, he smiled and took a couple of steps forward to hug the both of them.

Yuhua hugged him back, with a big smile.

“How have you been, girl?”, the queen asked, before making space for Dustin to hug him too.

Max hugged the friend back, before answering: “Good. Busy but I can’t complain”.

They quickly sat at the table, waiting for the food to be delivered.

“Has someone heard from Giovanni?”, Dustin asked, while sipping on his glass of wine.

Kevin raised his glass, nodding.

“I did. He’s not home until later tonight”, he explained, then he added: “I will meet with him tomorrow, to see how he’s doing and stuff”.

Yuhua raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff?”.

In that exact moment, Maxwell chocked on his glass of soda and started coughing, causing Dustin to laugh manically.

“You bitch!”, Kevin laughed, patting his best friend on the back in order to prevent him from choking any further, “I want to see how he’s doing, what he’s up to and this kind of things. I also have yet to give him my Christmas present”, he said with a proud smile.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted the conversation and the host stood up to go take the food and pay.

“I’ll be right back, ladies”.

After a couple of minutes, they were sitting in front of a plethora of boxes and paper bags full of Thai food.

“You really went all out”, Yuhua looked at the food with disbelief, before adding: “Are you sure you don’t need anything from us?”.

Kevin pinched his friend, before opening a container and smiling at the sight of the steaming hot curry inside it.

“I just thought it would be nice to spend time all together again”, he said before pausing and adding: “Well, without Giovanni… but you know what I mean”.

The others nodded, before starting to eat.

***

Finally in his apartment, Giovanni left the suitcases in the hallway and sighed.

“Home sweet home”, he murmured, before switching the light on and deciding he might as well turn the heating on and warm up the rooms a little bit.

His phone vibrated, making him jump.

Jordan, 00:17 am: In February I will be gone.

Jordan, 00:17 am: Just letting you know.

The young man bit his lower lip, before typing a quick answer.

Giovanni, 00:18 am: Thank you for letting me know.

He put his phone back in his pocket, then he went to his room and opened a drawer, taking out a small plastic bag. He rolled himself a joint and went to smoke it on the balcony, trying to clear his head.

“Shit”, he murmured, before closing his eyes and sighing.

He did not know what to do, let alone how to react to Jordan’s antics any more. After the whole fiasco in London, he had absolutely no idea how to go further without ruining their friendship. When the management stepped in, he had no other options than to fire him and the expression in his eyes was one of defiance and cockiness he had never seen before.

“As if you would survive a day without me”, Jordan sneered, before collecting his jacket and leaving the room.

Giovanni took his phone out of his jacket, hoping Nicola would be awake and willing to listen to him vent.

Aquaria, 00:23 am: I am currently sitting on the staircase outside and all I can think about is how many friendships I’ve fucked up. It’s making me slowly insane and paranoid and so unsure of myself it is almost disgusting. I don’t recognise this part of me and it scares me, I don’t know how to react to Maxwell’s messages or to Jordan’s rage and it is making me go crazy.

He sent the message without checking the name of the receiver. Needless to say, just because karma and faith every once in a while love to play tricks on people, he sent it to Maxwell instead without realizing the mistake he made.

He locked the screen, finished his joint and headed to the bathroom to have a shower, blissfully unaware of what just happened.

***

Maxwell’s phone vibrated, making the man jump slightly.

“Everything allright, Cracks?”, Kevin asked, before looking at him quizzically.

The other man nodded.

“It’s just my phone, Kathelyn must have gotten home or something”, he replied, before taking his phone out of his pocket.

The message he got was definitely not from Kathelyn.

Aquaria, 00:23 am: I am currently sitting on the staircase outside and all I can think about is how many friendships I’ve fucked up. It’s making me slowly insane and paranoid and so unsure of myself it is almost disgusting. I don’t recognise this part of me and it scares me, I don’t know how to react to Maxwell’s messages or to Jordan’s rage and it is making me go crazy.

Needless to say, the man barely managed to whisper a confused: “What…?”, before signalling to his best friend to join him on the balcony.

Once the door behind them was closed, much to Yuhua and Dustin’s disappointment, the younger man was presented with the other one’s phone.

“What is happening, Max?”, he then asked.

“Read it”, Maxwell said, sighing.

Kevin read everything twice, before looking at his friend with concern in his eyes.

“I reckon it wasn’t for me either”, he then commented, trying to lighten up the mood and failing miserably at it.

Max sat on the floor, before closing his eyes and murmuring: “What should I do?”.

The other one shrugged, before joining him on the floor and giving him his phone back.

“Well, now at least you know he’s not mad or something…”, he murmured, trying to sound comforting, “I’ll see him tomorrow and maybe I can try…”.

“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea”, the other one interrupted him, “I don’t want him to feel trapped or some shit”.

Kevin nodded.

“Yeah, it makes sense”, he mumbled, before getting up: “Let’s go and see what the others are doing. I will keep you posted tomorrow, okay?”.

Maxwell nodded, then he got up as well and squeezed his friend’s hand.

“Thank you”.

[artificialqueens]

Four Times Brianna Hated Tutoring, And The One Time She Didn’t So Much (Crameron) - Millie

A/N: this is a little birthday present for Elsa so I really hope you like it!!! Summary: Brianna and Kameron are both excellent mathematicians, although they’ve never interacted properly over the almost two years that they’ve been in the same class. When Brianna is punished by their teacher for slacking, Kameron is forced to participate.

Brianna wasn’t stupid. In fact, she was far from it, hoping to make valedictorian in senior year (she was only a sophomore, but a girl could dream), and at the top of all her classes. She couldn’t pick a favourite if you asked her, even if you begged, but some subjects she liked more than others would be Languages, Drama, and Math. Math was easiest, though, so she couldn’t understand other students’ hardship when it came to the class.

Brianna wasn’t stupid. So, why did her teacher seem to think she was?

“Miss Cracker,” the woman in question scolded yet again, placing several sheets of paper, held together by a staple clinging on for dear life, face down on her desk, “how many times do I have to tell you?! Always show your working.”

Brianna huffed and turned over the papers, greeted by a sickly green 47 out of 100 at the top of the front cover. It might as well have been written in blood red; she knew the teachers marked papers in green to make everything appear reassuring. It was basic psychology. Green meant “good”. But Brianna wasn’t stupid. She knew just how bad a 47 was.

“Teacher’s being tough on you again?” Yuhua asked, seated to the blonde’s right. Peering over her forearm, she could see a beaming 82 out of 100 on her friend’s paper.

“That’s one way to put it,” Brianna replied, folding the sheets in half and stuffing them into her bag, even though she knew she wasn’t going to look at the test again until it was thrown into the recycling.

She knew she’d answered most, if not all, questions correctly, and she was often the student whom her teacher called upon to help others who were struggling a little in class. The only problem was, she didn’t write any of her working down - she did it all in her head, and by the time it’d come to her, it’d disappeared just as quickly, and she was only left with the answer. So, that’s what she wrote. And she lost out on marks for it.

Brianna leant back in her chair, letting out an angry sigh. She disliked, hated, even, this kind of humiliation, especially when her teacher just had to announce it in front of the whole class. Of course, everyone knew her intelligence was not reflected in her test scores, but it wasn’t the best feeling to know that it could impact her grade when it came to her finals. She just couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

The teacher spent most of the lesson going through questions on the paper, showing the working and how to get the correct answer. Almost every one, Brianna had answered correctly. She stared at the working on the blackboard, the white chalk harsh against it, its colour and its ridiculing pricking her eyes. She would call upon students to help answer the questions for the others, but Brianna kept quiet as a silent protest. Kameron Michaels, who sat on the other side of the classroom, ended up answering the most, and from the top of the sheet hanging off of her desk haphazardly, she could make out a 74 out of 100 written by a seemingly proud hand.

Kameron had always been the quiet kid, although she’d definitely come out of her shell since freshman year. It was a rare occurrence to see her putting her hand up in class, but their math teacher was so far up her ass that it forcefully made her answer questions. She would always shoot an encouraging smile the auburn-haired girl’s way, knowing that she knew the answer, and it gave Kameron a little bit of confidence. You could see her face light up whenever she was praised, and, Brianna had to admit, it was kind of sweet.

After a less-than-bearable hour, Brianna shoved her pen and exercise book into her bag, about to push herself away from her desk before her teacher called out, “Brianna and Kameron, please wait after class,” staring both of them down so they knew they couldn’t easily escape.

If Brianna were a three-year-old, she would’ve thrown a tantrum right there, with tears and all. She just wanted to break free from the eighth circle of Hell that was this classroom and join Monét, Bob, and the rest of her friends for lunch.

The remainder of the class left within the next minute, and Brianna and Kameron walked over to their teacher’s desk with a little apprehension.

“Girls, sit down,” she asked. Kameron took the seat out from the front desk and sat there while Brianna perched on the edge of another table, much to their math teacher’s dismay.

“Brianna, you seem to not be taking any of my direction, and I think there are some precautions that we need to take.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “Precautions?” she questioned.

“I was thinking, if she would be happy to, Kameron could tutor you.” Kameron looked over at Brianna like a deer caught in headlights, her face fluctuating between sheet white and beet red. Brianna mirrored her expression, except without the blushing. “She never fails to show every single piece of working, and could probably help you out. I’m not saying it’s mandatory, but if Kameron chooses to opt out then I have many other students that I can ask.”

The only other people in her class that were amazing at math were the greasy, smelly guys who’d probably never even looked at a girl for longer than two seconds. Or, the polar opposite, the ones who looked at girls for far too long to the point where it became predatory. Brianna certainly didn’t want to get stuck with them, and so she quietly prayed that Kameron would agree.

“I, uh, sure,” Kameron said. “If that’s alright with you?”

Brianna nodded almost too enthusiastically.

“Great!” Their teacher clapped her hands together, a smiled pulled across her lips. “You can start tonight. And you guys can work the schedule out yourselves, as long as you’re meeting at least twice a week.”

They were shortly dismissed, and exited the classroom together. Brianna let out a sigh, and Kameron appeared so tense that even her breathing was frozen. Brianna didn’t know what she was even worrying about; they’d known each other for the past two years, they just hadn’t spoken much.

“So, where should we meet tonight?” Kameron asked, rubbing her bicep with one hand.

“I have karate practice tonight, so it would have to be some time after 6pm,” she replied. She didn’t think they were close enough to suggest, “Hey, what about your/my house?” so she was hoping that Kameron had some idea in mind.

Kameron looked taken aback at the mention of martial arts; she wouldn’t have guessed that the tiny blonde she was about to tutor could probably kick her ass in one move. She herself went to the gym most nights, but that was glaringly obvious unlike Brianna’s stature.

The cogs seemed to turn in her head. “There’s a little place on the edge of town; a diner,” she said tentatively. “I can send you the address on Facebook, or something.”

“That old 50s diner?” Brianna asked. She’d been meaning to go there at some point, but she was always so busy with extracurriculars.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice there.” She cracked a small smile.

“I can meet you there at seven if that works for you?” she said.

“That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” They parted ways, Brianna swinging her bag over her shoulder, the weight of it just as heavy as the humiliation she felt, looming in the back of her mind.

-

Kameron was already inside the diner once Brianna arrived, and so the shorter of the two took the moment alone to admire the outside of the building. Above the walls were red and white chequered tiles, worn and chipped a little with age, and the sign directly above the door flashed white, buzzing softly. Most of the front wall was window except for the bottom three feet that covered the seat of the benches, also adorned with the same tiles. It was a cute place, quite cosy-looking, and she could see through a tiny window at the back some people working in the kitchen, steam rising from the stove and water vapour crawling from the ice and freezer. She also spotted Kameron, her red hair bright against the few brunettes and blondes sitting inside with her. She was tapping a pen against some paper laying on the table and had a drink in front of her.

Brianna pushed the door open and was greeted by an arrangement of smells coming from the kitchen, as well as Kameron’s head shooting around at the squeak of the hinges. The warmth enveloped her which was a lovely change from the chill outside, but she was still quite hot from karate.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly as she walked over to Kameron, sitting down on the red, leather bench opposite her. She noticed the wire-rimmed, aviator-style glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose which she’d never seen before, and Brianna turned her head slightly to silently question why.

Kameron noticed this. “Oh, I wear these instead of contacts when my eyes get tired,” she responded.

“I didn’t even know you wore contacts,” Brianna said. She looked into Kameron’s eyes as if she would see them there.

Kameron chuckled softly before taking a sip of her pink milkshake and turning the papers towards Brianna. “I found some practice papers online that I thought we could go through.”

Brianna eyed them up, dreading the likely easy questions already. Despite hating it all, she wasn’t going to give Kameron a hard time over it. She just needed to suck it up.

“Where do you wanna start?” Kameron asked.

Brianna flicked through each bit of paper until she landed on something vaguely interesting. “Let’s go with this one.” She fished it out from the pile. The topics listed on the front were circle theorem, trigonometry, simultaneous equations, quadratic sequences, and iteration. She liked four out of those five topics; the way to answer circle theorem questions on a test was basically saying, “this is this because I said so”. Yet, using that to answer other questions was frowned upon.

“Great!” Kameron said, although she looked pained as she spotted the topics. “I needed to go over iteration anyway.”

“Can we start with some trig?” Brianna asked. “It’s, like, minimal writing.”

“Sure thing.” She opened the booklet and turned to a page that had a triangle on it. “You probably know this like the back of your hand, but I wanna start easy, anyway.”

Brianna peered over to look at the page, and fished through her bag for a calculator. She cursed at herself once she realised she’d left it at home, but Kameron thankfully had one on hand.

She checked over the information she’d been given in the question and slammed it all into the calculator, writing down the answer she was given in the box at the bottom of the sheet.

Kameron looked at her quizzically. “You know, the whole point of me tutoring you was so you’d write down your working.”

Brianna huffed and picked up the pen again, pressing a couple buttons on her calculator to look through its recent history. She copied out the calculations: tan(angle) = 15/9, followed by tan^-1(15/9) = angle. “Is this alright?” she asked.

“You’d get one more mark for labelling the sides of the triangle,” Kameron said. She smiled and bit the end of her tongue teasingly when Brianna rolled her eyes and put pen to paper once again.

-

They continued these tutoring sessions at the diner for three more weeks, meeting every Monday and Friday for a couple hours or more. Brianna had gone from loathing them to simply not being the biggest fan, and that was improvement enough for the time being. Kameron still came off as tentative whenever she was around her, though, although, she wasn’t as bad as when they first spoke. She liked to poke fun at Brianna sometimes, testing the water most likely, and Brianna would just laugh and shoot something right back.

“The usual?” the woman who was normally their waitress asked from behind the counter.

“Uh-huh,” Brianna said. She always ordered a strawberry milkshake for Kameron and a chocolate milkshake for herself, and then a slice of cheesecake to share between them. Paying for Kameron’s drink was the least she could do to thank her for wasting her time on her.

“And the usual table?”

“Thirty-seven, like always.” She flashed the waitress a smile.

She returned the gesture. “Coming right up.”

Brianna went and sat back down opposite Kameron, who thanked her like always. Brianna was exhausted from today - her math teacher had been giving her a hard time yet again, something about some homework she hadn’t handed in. Sure, she wasn’t the best at returning assignments in any class, but she had significantly less time than before now that she was doing four hours of tutoring per week. That woman just couldn’t let her win.

“Brianna?” Kameron said, tilting her head at the blonde. “You okay?”

Brianna snapped out of her frustrated trance. “Huh? Oh, I’m fine,” she said.

“Is this about what happened in Math today?” she asked. Brianna didn’t even realise she cared enough about her to ask about it.

“… A little,” she admitted. “She just seems to have it out for me all the time.”

“I know she’s nice to me, but she’s such a bitch,” Kameron said. “I think she only likes me because I only speak when she wants me to.”

“Right?” Brianna exclaimed. “That’s exactly it.” Her eyes widened. “That wasn’t meant to be an attack on you - I think she likes you because you’re a lovely person.”

Kameron’s face became heated and she looked like she was trying to suppress a smile, but she eventually gave it permission to show. “I- Thanks,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “But, seriously-” she reached forward to touch Brianna’s arm very lightly, “-she hates you because she can’t control you. And that’s why she got me to tutor you.”

The hair on the back of Brianna’s neck stood on end at the touch. “Part of me wants to throw all of her efforts back in her face.”

“The only way to get revenge on her is to just do better.” She smiled. “Become so good at math that you have to take over the class.”

Brianna giggled. “Imagine that; she just has to leave the classroom because I’m too good.”

Kameron laughed along with her. “It-”

“Here’s your milkshakes and cheesecake, girls,” their waitress interrupted, and Kameron pulled her hand back abruptly. Brianna suddenly missed her physical presence there.

The waitress put their milkshakes down, the strawberry in front of Kameron and the chocolate in front of Brianna, and set the cheesecake at the end of the table, a fork lying on either side of it. Although Brianna was grateful that their food and drink had arrived, she was enjoying the conversation that she and Kameron had going.

They both said thank you to her and drank a bit of their milkshakes, deciding to save the cheesecake for when they had done a bit of work.

Kameron set her drink aside and pushed a couple sheets of paper towards Brianna. “So,” she said, “are you ready to tackle some percentage increase?”

Brianna groaned; these questions were always far too much writing. Nine times out of ten, they were stupid comparison questions to do with interest or something involving car value.

“I can’t say no, can I?” she said matter-of-factly.

“No; then you’ll be buying me this milkshake for nothing,” Kameron joked.

“Can’t I be buying it as a lovely, caring friend?” she countered, blinking innocently at the girl opposite her.

Kameron’s face lit up, and a beaming smile broke through her previously neutral exterior. “We’re friends?” she asked, mirroring genuine innocence.

Brianna furrowed her eyebrows. “Of course we are,” she said. “We can’t not be friends after hanging out this much.”

The redhead’s smile widened. “Of course,” she said. “I… I dunno why I assumed anything different.”

Unsure of how to respond, Brianna took a long sip of her chocolate milkshake. She was so used to breezing by when it came to making friends, that it hadn’t fully occurred to her that Kameron was struggling with the prospect of it. A product of her shyness, she guessed. But Kameron was a sweet girl - if she were more outgoing, there would be no doubt that she would be one of the more popular students.

“Should we get started with that percentage increase?” Kameron asked, breaking the brief silence.

“If we have to,” she replied, although picked up her pen and calculator. She just had to keep reminding herself that this tutoring - if you could still call it that - was going to benefit her in the long run. It had been a while since she’d received a good Math grade.

“We’ve got that cheesecake to look forward to once we’re done,” Kameron said.

Brianna ran her fingers through her thick, blonde hair as she released a sigh, reading over the first question. There were no ways to articulate just how much she hated this type of writing, but at least she got a small reward at the end of it: cheesecake, an improved grade, and seeing Kameron. The girl had really grown on her.

-

“Brianna, you good?” Kameron asked her, tilting her head to try and get a better look at the blonde’s expression.

The girl had her head propped up in her hands, fingers over her forehead shielding her expression. School had been painful, even more so because of their goddamn Math teacher. It seemed to Brianna that she just couldn’t get her off her back, no matter how hard she was trying. She felt like she was an olden-day prisoner turning a crank - it was cruel, pointless work, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere.

Brianna nodded to Kameron’s question, but the other girl saw right through her lie. Cautiously, she reached out to touch Brianna’s hand, enclosing it in her larger one. She slowly pulled it away from her face, revealing a dreary expression and eyes that wouldn’t meet hers.

“You can talk to me,” Kameron assured.

Brianna squeezed her hand weakly. “I just…” she began, “I’m not feeling great. Nothing I do is enough.”

“Don’t let some vile teacher get you down,” she said, her eyebrows knotting together. “You’re a smart girl, Brianna. And you’re trying to improve. That’s what matters.”

“She’s just being such a bitch about it,” Brianna spat. “I’m doing what she’s asking, goddamnit. That should be enough.”

“It is,” Kameron insisted.

Her eyes flashed a deadly glare. “Not to her.”

Kameron gritted her teeth. With Brianna’s hand in hers, that part of her body felt disconnected. The other girl seemed okay with their current position, but, God, it had been so long since she’d interacted with a friend so physically. She was so hyper-aware of the feeling of skin-on-skin that she was frozen, and that feeling wasn’t helped by the anger she felt towards her teacher.

She wasn’t going to make Brianna see how meaningless their teacher’s frustration at her was, but like the stubbornly passionate Cancer she was, she was at least going to try. She’d grown to care deeply about Brianna, and even though she hated how quickly she put so much faith into a friendship, she was beginning to accept that that was what was happening. To an outsider, their conversations sounded a little like an ego stroke, but she knew the situation was far from that.

“We’re still gonna do work, though, okay?” Kameron said. “I know it’s gonna suck basically proving to her that her idea was good, but this will help you in the long run.”

Tears of dread pricked Brianna’s eyes, but she wasn’t going to let herself cry at that moment. As much as she hated to admit it, Kameron was right - she just needed to buckle up and get on with it for a few more weeks, and then maybe, just maybe, her teacher would hop off.

For some reason, she found it hard to pull her hand away from Kameron’s, although she had to if she was going to write. She took one long look at the question in front of her before angrily slamming the necessary equations into her calculator, writing down her final answer once she was finished.

Kameron raised an eyebrow at her, pursing her lips and exhaling. As soon as she’d finished, Brianna was straight onto the next question, working speedily, spite fuelling her work.

“Hey, slow down,” Kameron said, putting her hand forward, but refraining from touching her this time.

Brianna did, but she still continued to push through a third question. She looked up at Kameron and the volume of already-present tears began to increase as she continued to blindly press buttons.

“I know you’re having a bad day, but don’t let it derail you,” she continued. “And don’t take it out on that calculator. Slow down; do the writing.”

She looked back down, retracing her steps, and shakily wrote her working. Once she was done with the first question, she slapped the pen on the table, the sound emitted making both of them wince.

“I can’t do this,” Brianna said, running both hands through the sides of her hair and gripping the roots. “I’ll do an extra day tomorrow, I swear, I just can’t do it right now.”

Without prompt, Kameron rose from her seat. Brianna suspected she was annoyed with her brattish behaviour, now ready to leave her stupid drama, but when she shuffled up beside her on her side of the table and wrapped her arms around her, those suspicions dissipated. Brianna leaned into her embrace, loosening the strong hold on her hair and winding her arms around Kameron’s waist. Her scalp throbbed lightly, and she let some discreet tears fall.

“We’ll leave it for now,” Kameron said softly.

“Thank you,” Brianna whispered. She could feel eyes on the both of them, however, that was what she cared least about at that moment.

“You want another milkshake?”

She shook her head. “I just want to stay here.” She pulled on the taller girl’s shirt to bring her closer.

Kameron was noticeably tense, but Brianna didn’t mind. She simply appreciated her presence. Plus, it was a nice gesture. For the past few weeks, she’d been going by Kameron’s boundaries, and she realised that this was the first time they’d hugged.

-

When Kameron was standing outside the diner instead of inside like usual, Brianna was a little confused. She had never waited for her outside if she arrived first - she would sit down and await her, maybe order their drinks if she was running late for any reason. She was holding a white, card box with a red line going around it in both hands, and two milkshakes in plastic to-go cups were balanced on top in a cardboard drinks holder.

“What’s this?” Brianna asked, her eyebrows knitted together as she eyed up the scene in front of her.

Kameron shrugged. “I thought we could go somewhere new,” she said a little apprehensively, her voice wavering. “Of course, with our usual things. Our waitress seemed a little confused when I asked for it to go.” She laughed nervously, and Brianna imagined her hand rubbing the back of her neck like she usually did. The term our waitress made her feel famous, like she could afford a thing like that.

“So, where are we going?” Brianna asked.

“I, err, I was thinking we could go to my house instead.” Kameron shuffled around. “Soon, we’re gonna start associating that place with math, and we’ll hate it.”

Brianna had to admit that she felt a bit nervous at the idea. What if it got awkward? What if her parents weren’t nice? No, no, her brain had to shut up for now. Kameron was even more tentative than her, and she just had to remind herself that, whatever she was feeling, Kameron probably felt a thousand times more intensely.

“That sounds great,” she replied, plastering a smile over her nervousness. Maybe if she told herself that, she’d believe it.

Kameron visibly relaxed, returning the smile. “Great,” she said. “It’s not too far from here so we can walk.

“Lead the way,” Brianna said, motioning for her to move forward. She did as instructed, and the two began to walk.

The diner was situated at the end of a long road, surrounded by the openings of a small forest, so with that as a reference, Brianna tried to picture where Kameron’s house was and what it looked like. She imagined it being in the suburbs on the edge of town, probably in a nice neighbourhood. Most houses in New York looked the same - copy-and-paste, three bedroom family houses, unless you lived in the centre of the city. Then, it was the option of a cramped apartment, or a mansion worth millions of dollars.

“So, how was school today?” Kameron asked. “Thank God we didn’t have Math.”

Brianna chuckled. “That automatically made it a good day,” she said. “It went well, I guess. What about you?”

Kameron nodded. “Same. Dance was fun; we kind of got to do whatever.”

“You take Dance?” Brianna half asked, half exclaimed in shock. Dance was full of the cocky, overconfident kids, extroverts who didn’t have a care in the world. That was the complete opposite of Kameron.

“You didn’t know?” Kameron asked.

“I don’t exactly keep up with Dance students.” She tried to imagine how Kameron would dance, but the image just wouldn’t, couldn’t, come to her head.

“I’m performing with some others at school next month,” she said, “if you wanted to come watch.”

Brianna smiled. Maybe she’d get to see the real Kameron, the one in her natural habitat. No matter how good she was at Math, she could never help but worry if she was getting something wrong. Dance, now that Brianna had wrapped her head around the concept, seemed more like Kameron’s niche; she was happily sharing it with her, and that spoke more than any anxious, jumbled sentence could.

“That would be awesome,” she said.

After passing through most of the more expensive suburban areas, they came to another long road. This one was surrounded by more trees and grass, and there were some houses dotted along it. The tarmac was free of potholes and the sidewalk mostly free of cracks, and overall, the area was pretty nice. The houses were mostly disguised by trees, but from what Brianna could see, they were grand and picturesque, like something out of a movie.

They continued along the road until they came to the end of it, and they were met with a large, tall house - if you could even call it that. It was practically a mini-mansion.

“This is where you live?!” Brianna exclaimed. She looked up at the building in awe. It had organised ivy and vines growing up the wall, and the front door was about a foot taller than Kameron, painted a rich black. The walls were exposed, grey brick, extending up to the attic that seemed to be converted into another room. The front porch was caged by four white pillars, and the windows were framed by the same colour. It was like a modernised princess’ castle.

Kameron led her to the front door, setting down their food and drink so she could pull her keys out of her pocket. “My family may or may not be rich,” she said, unlocking the door, which opened with a click. They stepped inside, and Brianna was even more blown away by its size. “Well, not exactly rich. My parents are in high-up jobs, though.” She went back to grab the containers still outside.

“This is… big,” was all Brianna could choke out. They stood in the living room, which had creamy walls and two long, suede, L-shaped couches lying in front of a sixty-inch TV. Several photos in frames were dotted around: Kameron and her parents, a couple school photos, et cetera.

Kameron took the two of them into the kitchen-stroke-dining room. At the far end was a medium, wooden table with six black chairs, and the colour of it matched the tone of the cupboards lining the walls. The black matched the countertops, both glossy and chic.

“We moved to New York because of my dad,” Kameron spoke up, noticing Brianna’s starstruckness. “He had to travel a lot, especially to the City. So, it was easier to move.”

Brianna sat down on one of the chairs, which cushioned her perfectly. “Where did you move from?” she asked.

“Tennessee.” The moderate, southern twang that occurred in her voice sometimes suddenly made sense. Brianna realised that she was learning more about Kameron today than she’d learnt in the last few weeks.

Kameron removed the slice of cheesecake from its box and went to grab a couple plates from the cupboard. Brianna caught herself staring as she reached up for them, standing on her tiptoes and her stomach exposed. Her abs looked like they were chiselled by the Ancient Greeks.

She looked away, immediately ashamed. Kameron was her friend, and not even one that she’d known that long. It was weird to look at her in any other way - however, that was becoming a struggle the more Kameron stretched.

“Do you want the big half or the small half?” Kameron asked, luckily interrupting her train of thought.

“Isn’t the point of fractions supposed to be that they’re equal?”

“Small technicalities.” She tutted jokingly.

“Hey, nothing wrong with trying to get into the math spirit.” She raised her arms to show innocence. “Big half.”

The redhead put their milkshakes on the according plate and padded across the tile floor, sitting down opposite Brianna. She moved the plate with the chocolate milkshake towards her.

“I swear,” Kameron said, “these cheesecakes are my motivation to go to the gym more.”

“As if you’d need to do that,” Brianna laughed. “You’re ripped.”

Kameron chuckled, a blush rising to her cheeks as she spotted Brianna not-so-subtly eyeing up her arms. “I could look ripped-er.”

“Why do you work out so much, anyway?”

“Why do you do karate?” Kameron countered.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you… second.”

Brianna laughed, her eyes creasing. “That makes no sense,” she said. “But if you’re gonna be difficult…” Kameron pouted playfully. “It’s just for fun. I started when I was a lot younger. But, it also helps with self-defence.”

“Now my answer seems really stupid,” Kameron said lowly.

“Go on; I’m sure it’s not,” Brianna assured. She smiled at her encouragingly.

She took a long sip of her milkshake, not meeting the blonde’s eyes. “Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

She took a deep breath in. “I just wanted to be strong enough to pick up every dog,” she said, eyes directed at the table and the redness still in her cheeks. “Like, the big ones.”

Brianna was expecting a tragic story of betrayal and revenge, and at her pleasant surprise, she couldn’t help but let out a noise of endearment. “That definitely wasn’t what I was expecting,” she said, unable to disguise her grin. “That’s so sweet, Kam.” They both looked a little taken aback at the nickname, but neither one spoke on it.

“It’s kept me going on this long,” she said, looking back up. “I can lift a labrador, a malamute, you name it.”

“Can you lift humans?” Brianna asked. The thought had been lingering on her mind from the moment Kameron had mentioned working out, but she hadn’t predicted it to fall out of her mouth. She was silent as soon as the question had been asked.

“Y-you wanna try?” Kameron stuttered. She looked Brianna over, probably sizing her up, but Brianna herself felt like there was another element in her stare.

“I mean, we have the time, don’t we?”

Kameron’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, I completely forgot about the math work,” she said. “… Maybe we could try after that.”

Brianna did her best to hide disappointment, but Kameron’s obvious subject change clearly showed alarm. The last thing she wanted was for her to be uncomfortable, feeling like the two were moving too fast friendship-wise.

“Sure thing.” Brianna smiled softly.

Kameron looked deep in thought for a second. “Actually, no,” she said. “Math can wait. And this’ll be more fun.” It sounded a little like an internal pep talk that had made its way out into the open, but that made it all the more charming.

Brianna pushed her chair out from under her with the back of her legs, and Kameron followed suit. The other girl bent down onto one knee.

“Stand in front of my left shoulder,” she instructed, so Brianna did just that. Kameron wrapped her arms around Brianna’s thighs and then pushed herself up, and Brianna fell over her shoulder. In a second, she was hoisted in the air, giggling at the sensation like a child. “You okay up there?” Kameron asked, laughing along with her. She had to admit, she was a little surprised at her strength.

“I’m good,” Brianna said, using Kameron’s shirt to push herself up - she felt she like was on top of the world. Kameron twirled her around. “Show off,” she teased.

“You’re just so pint-sized,” Kameron retorted, repeating her action, “that it’s easy.” She set Brianna back down on the ground.

Brianna scowled. “You won’t think I’m pint-sized when I take you down with a kick,” she said bluntly.

“Is that a threat?” she asked, smirking. She sat back down in her chair, resting her head in one hand, and raising the opposite eyebrow. The sight made Brianna feel an emotion she had on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

“Make of it what you will,” Brianna replied, sitting down as well.

“Now that’s definitely a threat,” Kameron said.

There was a soft click, the sound of a large door shutting, and the sound of footsteps. The collection of noises brought the two students out of their little bubble as - Brianna assumed - Kameron’s mom walked in. The redhead shot around, back to her timid demeanour.

Her mom had shoulder-length, brown hair, and was dressed in a pantsuit - she must’ve just been arriving home from work. She set her briefcase down neatly on the floor and took her hair down from her ponytail. It took her a moment to register the fact there were two people at the table instead of the usual one.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there!” she exclaimed, masking her exhausted expression with a shining grin. “Is your name Bri?”

“Brianna,” Brianna corrected, returning the smile. She could see Kameron’s cheeks going rosy for the third time that afternoon. “Well, either works.”

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not noticing you at first,” she said. The woman had an even thicker accent than her daughter. “It’s not often that Kameron has friends round.”

The girl in question buried her face in her hands. “You’re making me sound like a loser,” she said, and Brianna was startled when her accent came through stronger. Normally, it was almost undetectable, only coming through on certain words or when she was anxious.

“So, what are you girls doing?” her mom asked.

“Some math,” Kameron said. That was a bit of an overstatement, considering that they hadn’t even taken any papers out.

“If y’all get hungry while you work, there are snacks in the pantry,” she said. She walked over, kissing Kameron on the head and ruffling her hair. “I’ve got to take a call in five, so I’ll see you later.” She flashed a smile towards Brianna before heading towards the stairs, picking up her suitcase on the way out.

“Sorry about that,” Kameron said once the sound of footsteps against carpet disappeared. “She’s so busy, she doesn’t notice most stuff.”

“It’s okay,” Brianna said. “But, why did she think my name was Bri?”

“I don’t know,” she said quickly. It was clear that she did.

-

They did the same the following time they met - they met at the diner, grabbed their food, and made their way back to Kameron’s. Instead of their usual cheesecake slice, the two had decided that it was time for something new. The diner was home to a whole variety of cakes, pastries, and fast food, and it was weird to always get the same thing when so many other delicious foods were on display. Per Brianna’s request, they’d opted for two hefty chocolate éclairs, stuffed with whipped cream. Kameron had never tried one, which was an outrage to her, and so she had insisted that she tried one.

When they arrived, the door was already unlocked and immediately upon opening, sound filled Brianna’s ears. There were a couple authoritative voices talking, and what sounded like the crackle of a Skype call. Kameron showed a little annoyance at it.

“What’s that?” Brianna asked.

Kameron sighed. “Some conference thing that my dad’s doing,” she said. “A few people from his branch are here, and then they all Skype the head of the company who’s always too goddamn “busy” to leave his office, even though it’s less than an hour from here.” She made quotation marks with her fingers.

Soundlessly, she walked slowly into the dining room where they were all seated around the table, Brianna following. She peered into the room from behind Kameron to see several men and one woman dressed in office attire, accompanied by a MacBook placed in one corner of the table with a man dressed similarly on the screen.

The man in the centre facing them smiled, tipping his chin upwards to make it seen; the rest of the party turned around with dead expressions.

“Hey, good day at school?” he asked, so Brianna assumed that he was Kameron’s dad. He looked over at the blonde. “And you must be Brianna?”

“It was alright,” Kameron said as Brianna nodded and smiled a little. She had her bottom lip seized between her teeth. Her father went back to speaking to his colleagues, this time in a hushed tone, and Kameron backed herself and Brianna back towards the living room. “Uh, we’ll have to do everything up in my room,” she whispered. “If that’s okay.”

Brianna would’ve been lying if she said she wasn’t a little nervous. The whole prospect of being in a friend’s room was quite foreign to her, even when it came to Bob or Monét, who she’d known for years. She was used to just chilling downstairs, watching trashy TV and/or eating trashy food. But, to be fair, math tutoring at a friend’s house was also new territory, and that hadn’t gone terribly. It couldn’t be much worse in a bedroom.

“That’s alright,” Brianna said.

Kameron nodded curtly, walking towards the stairs and implying that Brianna should follow her.

She was led up two flights of stairs, the first taking them to the floor above with Kameron’s parents’ bedroom, a second bathroom, and another, smaller living room. The second flight then took them to the attic conversion, which was now Kameron’s bedroom.

Her room spanned half of the floor, the other half being taken up by the stairs and the part of the attic still used for storage, which was separated by a wall. The walls were painted baby pink and didn’t have much on them apart from some fairy lights dangling along them. Her bed resided next to the far wall of the room; a vanity table and a half-dead potted plant were lined along the left side. There were other random things dotted around, including a selection of dumbbells.

“So, what’s that conference about?” Brianna asked.

Kameron shrugged. “General business stuff, probably,” she said. “I don’t see why they can’t just do it somewhere else; they hold them here way more often than anywhere else.” She walked across the room and sat on her bed, beginning to dig through her bag for math work. Brianna followed, perching lightly on the end of it and balancing the food and drinks on her lap.

“You don’t like your dad’s work friends?” she asked, puzzled. She’d always got on well with her mom’s colleagues whenever they came over; they were pretty friendly and always made sure to speak to her. Of course, like anywhere, there was the occasional drama at work, but it was never anything serious. They were all smart, kind, rational adults.

“They’re barely friends,” Kameron snarled. She leant back, lying down on top of her duvet.

“What do you mean?” Brianna asked.

“They just- don’t worry, it sounds stupid,” she said, looking up at the ceiling.

“No, I’m sure it’s not,” she insisted, furrowing her eyebrows and pulling herself onto the bed more, shifting a little closer to Kameron. Their thighs were almost touching, but Brianna felt repelled slightly, like one magnetic force against a similar one. Perhaps it was the setting that made her feel unable to make contact. Perhaps it was Kameron, or maybe even herself.

“Well, it’s like- it seems like they look down on us. We didn’t even pay for our house in full - my dad’s company paid half of it, and all the extra things like my room was stuff we forked out ourselves, and it took so much work.” She sighed, a little defeated. “They’re a lot richer than us. And it seems like they come over here just to look at the house and make fun of us a little more.” She looked at Brianna. “Do I sound crazy?”

Brianna shook her head violently. “Not at all,” she said. “Rich people are dicks like that.” She suddenly remembered the food and drink in front of her. “Hey, how about we have the éclairs? They might make you feel a little better.”

Kameron sat up after a couple seconds of deliberating, deciding that a sweet treat would, in fact, cheer her up a bit. Her legs brushed Brianna’s, and the feeling made all her hairs stand on end. “Go on, then.”

Brianna took the two milkshakes off the box and set them on the cream carpet, opening the box and looking at the éclairs. She moved the box towards Kameron so she could take one. They bit into their food at the same time, and Brianna decided that she’d definitely get an éclair the next few times Kameron tutored her. Kameron wolfed hers down.

“This is so good,” she said, her mouth full of pastry, chocolate, and cream. She had a little whipped cream on her nose.

Brianna laughed at the sight. “You have a little something,” she said, reaching forward with her pointer finger to swipe it off of her nose. Kameron stayed frozen still, her pleased expression turning to one of trepidation, only at the drop of a smile. Brianna cleaned it off in less than a second and watched Kameron’s face go scarlet.

“Thanks”, she said softly, and went back to eating at the same speed, this time with an element of panic.

That’s what their interactions always came down to: a form of panic. Brianna, now she’d thought about it, had noticed it in both of them. Obviously, Kameron seemed to be the more timid of the two, but she’d surprised herself with her own shyness as well. She wasn’t usually like that.

One explanation for it could’ve been her Math teacher, as ridiculous as it sounded. She’d been reduced from slightly cocky about her math abilities to breaking down crying about them in just a few weeks. Plus, the degradation from that woman was enough to make anyone a little on edge.

Another could’ve been that she’d simply picked it up from Kameron. Adopted her mannerisms, perhaps.

The last explanation was the most likely, but Brianna hadn’t even admitted it to herself. This was the first time she’d properly thought about it, anyway. She’d never really liked someone before. The concept of it was foreign to her. The other two explanations, she’d felt before, understood them. This one - she’d just have to see for herself. She wasn’t even sure if that was the case.

And she didn’t like that feeling. The feeling of the unknown.

“You okay now?” Brianna asked Kameron, trying to snap herself out of her thoughts.

Kameron untensed her shoulders, nodding. “More okay than before,” she said, licking the ends of her fingers once she’d finished eating. “Is it alright if we pause on the math for a bit?”

“You didn’t even have to ask,” Brianna said, chuckling. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“Well, since we’re trapped in my room, we could just… talk?” she suggested. “I don’t know, I’m bad at suggestions.”

“Talking’s fine.” And it was. Brianna picked up the two milkshakes from the floor and placed the empty box there in their place, handing the pink one to Kameron.

“We should try and change up our milkshake choices, too,” she laughed, taking the drink. “But this one is just too damn good.”

“One day, we should just try everything they have,” Brianna said. “Like, maybe even next week. The chocolate gâteau looks amazing.”

“It’s a date,” Kameron replied. “Not a date- you know what I mean.”

Brianna giggled. “It’s okay, I do,” she said. Inside, her heart was racing a little at the idea. Kameron was blushing once again, and Brianna felt some colour rise to her cheeks as well. They sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying their drinks, but also unsure of what to say. It wasn’t often that Brianna found herself empty-mouthed, but then again, it wasn’t often that her friends did, either.

There was the almost inaudible sound of speaking from downstairs, but neither one could make out any clear words. Brianna was a little curious about what Kameron’s parents did as a job, however, Kameron seemed like she wasn’t a fan of their work, at least, not of her dad’s.

“Do you miss Tennessee?” Brianna asked her.

She’d clearly caught Kameron off-guard with that one. Her forehead creased as she questioned herself. “Sometimes, yeah,” she said. “It was a lot simpler there, and people were nicer. But New York is more interesting.”

“Oh, yeah?” Brianna asked. “Why’s that?”

“There’s just a lot more to do,” she said. “Before here, I lived in Nashville, which was more exciting than the city I was born in, but even then, it’s not like there was much.” She bit the straw in her milkshake as she drank. “And they don’t have people like you in Tennessee.”

Brianna’s breath hitched in her throat. “People like me?” she questioned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, like, the only person who’s tried to be my friend in a hot minute,” she admitted. “God, that makes me sound like more of a loser than my mom did last time you were here.” She laughed at herself, a little embarrassed.

“You don’t have friends in Tennessee?”

She shook her head. “Only ones I’ve known since elementary, really.”

“Well, I’m proud to be your friend,” Brianna proclaimed, beaming at her, and Kameron’s expression mirrored hers ten times brighter. “You’re so sweet, Kam, and I don’t see why people wouldn’t want to hang out with you. And you’re, like, gorgeous. I’m surprised you don’t have people all over you.” Her cheeks were burning now; she felt like words had just been vomited out of her mouth.

“I could say the exact same about you.” She averted her eyes from Brianna’s and they grazed her body in a flash, so quickly that she wasn’t sure if she had just imagined it.

Brianna pulled herself further onto the bed so that she was now in the middle of it, just so her body had something to do other than fidget. She could feel the thump of her heart resounding in her chest, pumping a thousand beats a minute.

“Sorry; I feel kinda bad that we can’t work in a decent space,” Kameron apologised.

“Why don’t we just forget math altogether today?” Brianna suggested. “We do it twice a week - missing one session can’t hurt.”

Kameron pressed her lips into a line. “I guess,” she said. “I kind of just want my dad’s colleagues to fuck off in general.” She lay down again, sighing.

“Hey, they’ll be gone soon.” Brianna pushed herself a little closer to Kameron, and was surprised when the girl extended her legs out, just a couple millimetres from her own. “And you don’t even have to speak to them.”

Kameron’s expression stayed the same, lines etched into her forehead. “The whole premise of their personalities just pisses me off,” she spat. “Sorry - I must sound so negative.”

Brianna offered the only thing she could. “Do you want a hug?” she asked tentatively. She wasn’t that great at comforting verbally, so it was her best shot.

“Please.”

Brianna shifted further up the bed and wrapped an arm around Kameron, snaking it between her lower back and the top of her duvet. Kameron hugged her back with both arms; Brianna rested her head in the crook of her neck. Although she’d had minimal experience, she’d come to the conclusion that Kameron gave the best hugs. She just had that ability to make her feel warm. Way more than any coat or jacket could.

She squeezed Kameron gently before pulling back, and while the redhead looked slightly more at peace, her expression hadn’t faltered much.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Brianna,” she said with a soft smile.

“I’m glad we’re friends, too,” she replied, and she meant it wholeheartedly. A part of her wished that they could try something more.

“So, at least we had a good outcome from our teacher bullying you,” she joked, smirking and sticking her tongue out at her.

Brianna hit her arm playfully. “It’s not like the aim was getting me to listen and bring my grades up,” she responded. “Definitely not the desired outcome.”

“Trying to improve in school?” She feigned a gasp. “Unheard of.”

Brianna laughed at her. “Well, if it came down to it, I would rather have her fail me than not be friends with you,” she said. “I’m glad we got to know each other.”

“I’m glad, too,” Kameron said. She was fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she looked up at Brianna, her lip caught between her teeth. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Brianna said.

“I think you’re really pretty.”

Both of them were a mix of blushing and smiles at the admission, and Brianna was unsure of how to respond. In the most modest way, she’d received plenty of compliments in her life, but never one from someone as gorgeous as Kameron.

“Sorry, that sounded kinda weird,” Kameron said, laughing nervously.

“No, it’s okay,” Brianna assured, unable to help herself reacting the same way. “I think you are, too. Really pretty, I mean. Not weird.”

Kameron giggled, this time more at ease. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

Brianna could feel her eyes dart from Kameron’s down to her full lips as the words left her mouth, and she sensed Kameron doing the same. She moved a little closer so that hers and Kameron’s hips were just touching, and even though she felt a bit of relief at it, the feeling shot sparks of electricity through her.

Kameron moved closer too, just a few centimetres, so that her head was tilted to the side, and her long, thick hair was sprawled across her pillow. Brianna bit her lip.

Moving one hand to Kameron’s hair, she leant down slowly, watching Kameron’s eyes fleet between her lips and the rest of her face, as her own eyes did the same. She wrapped her fingers around a few locks, and they were silky soft against her skin. Once she was so close that she could feel Kameron’s shaky breath against her, she shut her eyes and plunged herself in deep.

Kameron’s lips were buttery soft, and Brianna could taste strawberry milkshake on them. She didn’t kiss back right away - instead, she pulled on Brianna’s collar, bringing her slightly closer, before she captured her lips properly with her own. Brianna felt a wave of relief wash over her, prompting her to move her lips against Kameron’s a little more, and for the first time in a while, her brain had actually shut up.

Brianna swung one leg over Kameron so that she was straddling her, and before she could even worry that that was too far for the girl under her, Kameron affirmed her by placing her hands on her waist. She had never felt so calm, yet so on fire, in her life.

A moment later, Kameron was pressing Brianna’s chest to gently separate them, and when Brianna opened her eyes, Kameron was breathing heavily. “I was running out of air,” she told her, breathless.

“That’s okay,” Brianna said, and she was surprised at her own lack of breath.

“How in the hell did we get here?” she questioned, laughing.

Brianna laughed along with her. “I have no fucking clue,” she chuckled. “Is this-” she moved her hands around to motion the scene in front of them, “-okay, though?”

Kameron nodded. “It’s perfect.” She gave Brianna a wide, closed-mouth smile that showed all the little creases around her eyes.

Staring into Kameron’s jade eyes, Brianna felt for the first time that green actually meant “good”. Her docile expression reassured her, made her feel welcome. The colour of her eyes matched that of the pen used to mark their tests, but for once, she didn’t feel a sense of disappointment or uneasiness looking at it. Instead, she felt comfort.

“Bri,” Kameron said, and she didn’t even look like she was worrying if that nickname was stepping over a boundary. They were past boundaries at that point.

“Hmm?” Brianna responded.

“Can I kiss you again?” she asked.

“You don’t need to ask, Kam,” she said, and before she could respond, she’d connected their lips once more.

[artificialqueens]

we break but we're not broken (craquaria) - dis_connected

AN: Aquaria cares far too much for her friends.

Inspired by this prompt from happylilprompts on tumblr: Person A has had a crush on Person B, literal sunshine that gets top grades, for years. Recently B smiles and studies less, and is even skipping class. A’s the only one who pays close enough attention to see something is seriously wrong au

Read on ao3

Aquaria has given up with school. Well, she gave up with school not long after she started school. But, still, officially now, all she’s doing is focusing on trying to get into the Fashion Institute of Technology, which has been her only dream since she tried on her first pair of her mom’s heels as a kid, and now she’s just trying to keep all her grades at a C so she can successfully scrape by high school and leave it all behind for good.  

Meanwhile, a friend of hers, Brianna, is a model pupil. Aquaria has sat behind her in both History and French since freshman year, watching the way she flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder, how her head tilts back when she’s laughing and her confidence when talking in class in comparison to Aquaria’s stumbling awkwardness. Not that it’s a big deal that she watches her. She’s just hard to miss, with her big personality and even bigger hair, and you know, she’s right there, what else is she supposed to look at?

Brianna is popular amongst the students, like Aquaria, but, drastically opposite to Aquaria, she’s also loved by all of her teachers, thanks to her general friendliness and attitude to study hard in all her subjects. Brianna has truly excelled in high school. As their four years come to a close, she’s on track to go to a great college and have a great future, whereas Aquaria can hardly wait to get out of this hellhole and finally make a name for herself in fashion.

But, leaving behind high school means leaving her friends, and, unfortunately, that includes leaving behind Brianna. And the back of her head. Which is nice. The big, curly hair that the blonde does when she has a bit more time is Aquaria’s favourite, by far. She remembers vividly the day that she did it for the first time.

It’s a Monday. Aquaria spent the weekend in isolation from the outside world, trying to put together some looks for her portfolio, which she has changed and altered a million times, at least. Just last night, she redrew and redesigned a whole outfit she was obsessed with the week before, meaning she was up until the early hours of the morning furiously scribbling, sketching and sewing until her fingers were red raw.

Now, she’s sitting in her assigned seat at the back of Madame Dupont’s class as it starts, her pen tapping on her desk and her eyelids starting to droop already. Concentrating on the boring lectures on the imperfect subjunctive is hard enough as it is, without the added bonus of just two hours sleep. Aquaria is so tired that she hasn’t noticed that Brianna isn’t already sitting in front of her until she walks in, five minutes late, shooting an apologetic smile to the teacher and the usual grin to Aquaria, and hurriedly making her way to seat, the second row from the back.

“Bonne matin, mademoiselle, et qu’est-ce que la raison que vous êtes si tard?” Madame Dupont demands before she has the chance to sit down, even though the lesson has barely begun.

“Je suis desolée, Madame,” Brianna mumbles, her flawless accent still clear as she sits down and starts to pull out her things.

Aquaria is shocked. Brianna has never been late to class before, especially not French. Normally, she has to drag Aquaria by the arm so they’re on time, or she’s already there by the time the other girl decides to finally trudge into the room at the last possible, looking eager for whatever boring grammar shit they’ll be looking at.

“Et pouvez-vous conjuguer le verbe faire au conditionnel pour la classe?” The teacher continues. Brianna does so, perfectly of course, but she seems tired to Aquaria, who stares at the back of her friend’s head with worry.

Obviously, she’s just looking out for her friend, as she would any of them. Aquaria knows that Monét threw a party that she had to decline thanks to her portfolio work, and Brianna most likely went to it, or slept through her alarm, or would rather not be here, which is fair enough, but she still can’t help but worry.

Aquaria almost has to slap herself, as Madame Dupont starts to drone on about when to use the imperfect subjunctive (which is never in real life. Seriously who needs this?). She tells herself that she’s just looking for something to think about in this dull, dull class, and Brianna being late and tired has literally zero significance. People are allowed to be late sometimes, even Brianna. So, she just watches her as she twirls her hair round her finger, hair that she’s just shoved up in a ponytail without even brushing it. Not that she doesn’t look nice, still, annoyingly.

The class manages to end with no incident, and thankfully Aquaria is one of the few not called on for Madame Dupont’s never ending questions, because she wouldn’t have had a single clue what the hell to answer. She never really does.

She’s packing up to go at the end, grumbling to herself, when Brianna turns around, like she normally does to catch up with her friend after class, but today a frown is furrowing her features, as she looks right at the other girl, who does a slight double take at her unusually sad demeanour.

“Hey, Aqua,” Brianna says, slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaning forward on her friend’s desk.

“Hi, Bri, how was Monét’s?” Aquaria asks casually, trying to pretend that she isn’t worried as she shoves her notebook in her own bag carelessly, too tired to give a shit about the state of it.

“Oh, I dunno, I didn’t go,” Brianna seems uninterested. “Do we have history today?”

“Um, no, not until third tomorrow,” Aquaria replies, a little shocked at the unusual bluntness from her friend.

Okay, something’s definitely wrong. Brianna knows her timetable off by heart, she always has done. Aquaria tries not to think too much of it, but it stays on her mind the whole day. She’s ferociously munching her salad at lunch, sat with her friends on their regular table and staring into space as they talk about what happened at the party she didn’t go to.

Brianna is strangely absent; usually she’s the heart of the table, always cracking the jokes and puns and causing their table to be the nosiest in the cafeteria, but today, though the noise of the girls screaming about the party is extremely prominent, one voice is missing. Well, two, but Aquaria’s quietness is never that unusual. Nobody else has commented on the lack of Brianna, which annoys Aquaria slightly, but also makes her think she’s kind of making a big deal out of nothing.

She notices after a while a drop in chatter and a shift in atmosphere and looks up at everyone.

They’re all looking at their friend aggressively stabbing a poor lettuce leaf with her fork like she has a personal vendetta against it, concern and amusement etched across their faces.

“Um, Q, are you planning on eating you salad, or murdering it?” Blair, Aquaria’s best friend, asks her, laughing slightly.

“Sorry,” she mumbles in reply simply, rolling her eyes as the focus remains on her.

“What’s eating you, bitch? Your portfolio?” Vixen, the most blunt and unabashed of the group, asks. Everyone knows the stress that Aquaria has put herself under; her whole life has basically boiled down to this portfolio that is supposed to showcase who she is as a person, and, more importantly, a designer. To say there has been tears shed would be saying the least.

Aquaria puts down her fork and pushes her salad away, no longer hungry. “I’m bored. You’re all boring,” she jokes, rolling her eyes again.

“Well, sorry you’re too focused on your career to come to the best party of senior year,” Monet cheers.

“Actually, bitch,” argues Asia. “The best party of senior year was definitely my pool party right before school started!”

“Hah, that was before school started so it was technically it was a summerparty and not in senior year, so I win!” Monét laughs back loudly.

Aquaria stops listening. This argument is a regular occurrence between Asia and Monét, who constantly keep a friendly competition with each other. Their group has a specific dynamic, especially as they happen to be the most popular girls in the school, not that Aquaria really cares that much. She’s definitely not a people person.

Each girl in the group seems to have a specific, unspoken role and dynamic, and somehow they all create a powerful sort of clique. There’s no room for anyone else, not that Vixen would let them in anyway, unless they proved themselves to her, a task which few have ever succeeded at.

Which is why Aquaria notices so much when someone is missing, it doesn’t matter who. Just because it’s Brianna now that she’s worrying about, doesn’t mean that if, say, Kameron was acting differently next week she wouldn’t be just as worried about her. Aquaria cares about her friends, so what?

So what?

The week continues in pretty much the same way as Monday. Aquaria picks up on the subtle differences in Brianna, including her lateness to most of her classes, and her lack of makeup. To most people, it’s not a big deal at all, and she could blame it on the stress of nearing the end of the year. In fact, that’s what it would look like to any other person but Aquaria, especially the rest of their friendship group which have failed to notice the shift in Brianna’s behaviour.

God, she is going insane. She starts to drive herself crazy, overanalysing Brianna’s every move, from the back of her head in class, which is unusually slumped and bent over, to her weak attempts at jokes and uncharacteristic quietness at lunchtime, to the bluntness of their normally flowing conversation. It’s ridiculous, and distracting. Especially because none of their other friends have mentioned anything, at least not to Aquaria, and she really doesn’t want to bring anything up for fear of looking like a total idiot.

The worry is crippling to Aquaria, as though somebody is repeatedly whacking her over the head with a huge stick. Every time she tries to forget about it, bam and it’s back. She knows it’s ridiculous, and she blames her own stress. Her mind is clearly looking for something to do, bored to death of her sewing, sketching and designing the same pieces over and over again. It’s insanity. Complete and utter insanity.

But on Thursday, her insanity is justified, just slightly; after the class get a test back in History and Aquaria peers over to see she did better than Brianna, she can tell it’s with due reason. Brianna studies hard. Brianna puts school before everything. Brianna never gets below a B. In anything. And here she is with a C-, not even looking that fazed by it.

It’s like she’s given up. It’s eating away at Aquaria’s brain, so much so that she starts to design a new garment inspired by melting flesh and a revealed skull, and then hates it and screws it all up again. She wants to know why, without having to ask her. Confrontation is not her strong suit, especially when she could be completely wrong.

She’s hanging out at Blair’s house on Thursday night, an excuse to use her mom’s sewing machine, which is a million times better than her own, to test out some material she found that she wants to work with, but it keeps going wrong.

Aquaria is a good seamstress. She prides herself on it, in fact. It’s her thing. But after she fucks up the hem for the millionth time, she screams and rips apart her fabric, throwing it in the air in the most dramatic fashion ever.

Blair looks up from her laptop, where she’s trying to complete some homework, concern and worry etched onto her face as she witnesses her best friend’s outburst.

“Um, are you okay?” she asks, knowing that Aquaria is someone that tends to bottle up her emotions, not scream and throw things.

“I’m just stressed about this whole portfolio shit, I need it to be perfect,” Aquaria lies, rubbing her forehead aggressively.

“Lie,” says Blair nonchalantly, closing her laptop lid and moving to sit beside her best friend, who is trying desperately to stop her eyes from watering.

“Excuse me?” Aquaria says timidly, not looking her friend as she blinks furiously down at the sewing machine.

“You’ve been stressed about this for months. And when you’re stressed you turn it out, not fuck it up. Something else is on your mind and you’re telling me what it is right now,” Blair demands.

“You’ll think I’m stupid.”

“If it’s got you this worked up, it can’t be stupid. Spill! Spill!” Blair starts chanting and it almost puts a smile on Aquaria’s face, who pushes her friend playfully to get her to shut up.

“Okay, fine, Jesus. I’m just worried about a friend of ours who I think there’s something wrong with. She’s just acting really weird and I’m wondering if she’s okay,” she mumbles, trying to play it off as no big deal, which it probably isn’t.

“Who is this?” There’s a long pause whilst Aquaria stares down at her manicured nails in shame. “Aquaria, who?”

“Brianna.”

“Oh for god’s – you can’t let her ruin this for you. I know you’re obsessed with her-”

“Woah, woah, wait a minute, I am not obsessed with her. She got a C- today, B,” Aquaria says dramatically, like that’s supposed to clear everything up. Blair seems unbothered.

“So what?”

“So what?” Aquaria repeats in disbelief, annoyed at the lack of reaction. “This is Brianna. She always gets A’s.”

“Q, I love you, but I don’t think that Brianna getting a C- on one test should be the focus of you little brain right now,” Blair says, gesturing to Aquaria’s sketches that are now littering her room, along with the torn bit of fabric. “Have you even talked to her about it?”

“Well, no, but she’s not really given me much of a chance. We’re not exactly super close anymore, are we?” Aquaria feels her throat close up a little, before shaking her head, her friend giving her a pitying look.

“If it stops you worrying, just grab her after class and ask her if she’s okay. It’s really not hard, babe, it’s just being a good friend, and I’ll bet she’ll be happy to know you’re thinking of her.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Aquaria mumbles, choosing to ignore the last statement, knowing it probably won’t help, especially as she’s the fucking worst at giving advice.

“Okay?” Blair asks, receiving a reluctant nod in reply from her friend, who picks up her material from the floor in shame.

Aquaria knows how she feels about Brianna isn’t just friendly. She does. Blair might be her best friend, and Monét might be Brianna’s, but they’ve known each other a long time, longer than any of the other girls in their friendship group.

Aquaria recalls the day they met, almost ten years ago. She was always left out and picked on by the other kids; they thought she was way too weird and stupid, always laughing at the things she said and how she acted, which is a huge deal when you’re eight. Aquaria hated them all, and hated school. And then, a new girl moved to Aquaria’s town, and started at the school.

She had the biggest, kindest brown eyes that Aquaria had ever seen, and made it her mission to befriend the quirky girl who preferred to be alone. She sat down next to her whilst all the other kids went out to play, and handed her half her sandwich without a second word.

And that was that.

And then they grew back apart again, after a night which left Aquaria in tears, and unable to look her former best friend in the eye for months. They remained friends, tied together by mutual friends and mutual classes, but it’s nothing like it used to be.

So they’re not the closest of friends, not anymore, but conversation still comes naturally and easily, they can laugh together without it being awkward, and pick up wherever they left off. Aquaria’s quite an awkward person, but Brianna feels like someone who will never judge or ridicule her, who she can always come to for any sort of advice.

Feelings have been brewing under the surface for Aquaria for years now, of course she knows that, she’s just been pretending they’re not there, because a harmless crush is pointless when Brianna has no interest in her in the slightest. Her act of indifference has most people convinced, everyone except for Blair, who can see right through the paper-thin charade and has been teasing her best friend about it ever since.

Aquaria tries not to care. She can admire Brianna in class and be her friend the rest of the time. It’s not that hard, really. It’s not.

Aquaria has French the period before lunch on Friday, so she plans on grabbing Brianna after the class so they can have some time to talk. Her plan, however, is foiled when the blonde doesn’t even show up.

Aquaria spends the whole class sick with worry, unable to concentrate on her work, her nails tapping the surface of the desk rapidly, staring at the door and expecting her friend’s face to poke round it at any second, an apologetic smile pulling at her plump lips. Her mind is in overdrive, and it feels like everything is going off track.

As soon as class is over, she starts to walk to lunch slowly, pulling out her phone and calling her friend once, twice, three times with no reply. Aquaria rakes her hand through her black hair, almost clawing at her scalp.

She needs to calm down. Brianna is probably sick, and that’s why she’s off school, and sleeping, and that’s why her phone is left unanswered. Something in the back of Aquaria’s mind is still buzzing, however, drowning out her attempts to reassure herself and filling her mind with anxiety, like the sea pulling her under on a stormy day.

So, she bypasses the cafeteria and heads instead straight to her locker. Aquaria takes a second to linger over the polaroids decorating the inside of the door, adorned with stickers and hearts drawn sloppily in black sharpie. They’re mostly of herself and Blair, though it’s closely followed by some of her favourites of her and Brianna throughout their ten years of up-and-down friendship, as well as the other girls that Aquaria is friends with, group selfies and candid shots from parties and movie nights. Her eyes stop on a picture the summer before she started high school, of her and Brianna lounging by a pool, goofy grins on their faces, their bodies clad in bikinis. They had been so excited, buzzing with nervous energy about the adventures of high school that were to come.

Aquaria shakes her head and grabs her gym bag, slamming her locker shut and cutting off her thoughts of a simpler time, before she realised what a hellhole this place actually is, and what the hell it did to her friendship.

She storms through school like a lady on a mission. No matter what, Aquaria can always calm herself down through a vigorous dance session, pushing her body to the limit until she’s drenched in sweat and her only thought is of a shower.

She has a free period next, so she changes quickly, shooting a quick text to the group chat to let them know what she’s up to, planning to use all the time she can get to try to push the ridiculous thoughts of Brianna from her mind, at least for a little bit.

The high school is attached to a leisure centre, which the students use themselves in classes, but is open to the general public also, therefore the students have access to private rooms they can use to practise sports, as the public do, considering they pay.

Aquaria makes use of this any time she can, choosing the smaller rooms any time she can to practise her dance in peace.

Aside from a class playing volleyball in the gym, the area is empty as Aquaria walks back to the changing rooms, every single muscle on her whole body screaming out in pain. She loves to push herself or she feels like there’s no point, but today she obliterated the limit, only stopping when her throat screamed for water.

It worked, as well, as she soaks herself in the scolding water of the shower, her mind is taken up by the success of her session and not a certain blonde. As the heat from the water cascades over her body, she lets her mind empty of all thoughts, closing her eyes against the surprisingly decent stream of water and takes her time washing her body, allowing herself to be at peace for a while.

Finally, Aquaria steps out the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around her glistening body. The changing rooms are empty, therefore she is free to take her time to dry herself with the scratchy material of the towel from her gym bag, not quite ready to face the outside world yet.

She still has half of the period left before the next class starts, so, after redressing and pulling her damp hair into a careless messy bun, she decides to head to the library. Not to do school work, of course, just to flip through the latest issue of Vogue in search for inspiration.

Aquaria is happily walking up to her locker through the deserted hallways of the school, feeling surprisingly refreshed, her usually busy mind feeling almost new again, before it will be undoubtedly hit with a new tidal wave of thoughts. Her locker is up in the music block, as that’s where she has homeroom, and she’s just walking past one of the sound proof practise rooms when she happens to glance inside, through the glass panel in the door, and spots a familiar face, distorted by the glass, but familiar all the same.

Brianna.

She’s sitting at the far end of the tiny room, with her feet propped up on a chair, her head bent over a guitar, and she appears to be singing something. Aquaria inches carefully closer to the door, watching her friend who is oblivious to her presence. She looks so sad.

Brianna has always loved music, Aquaria knows that. She taught herself how to play guitar at a young age, and constantly came up with little melodies and songs that went with them, getting her best friend to chip in on the harmonies once in a while. But, to Aquaria’s knowledge, she hasn’t played in a while. And here she is, when she should probably be in class, strumming her old guitar, distinguishable by the old band stickers that faded a long time ago, and the dent from the time Aquaria dropped in on her wooden floor, by accident

And then Brianna looks up, and spots Aquaria standing in the doorway holding a gym bag and a concerned gaze, and lifts her hand up in a sort of half-hearted wave, getting up and placing the battered guitar down. She goes over to the door where Aquaria is frozen in a sort of silent embarrassment at being caught, and opens it.

“Hi,” Brianna says simply, before walking back into the room and retaking her seat.

Aquaria supposes that this as an invitation, and cautiously enters the room, shutting the door softly behind her, before perching on the piano stool close to where her friend is sitting. She studies her face for a second, all the worry and anxiety that she just worked so hard to get rid of flooding back and smacking her across the head again.

“What are you doing? Are you okay, Bri?”

At least she can finally talk to Brianna, again, and settle the matter for good, but the response from her friend is not at all what she’s expecting, her sad brown eyes lifting up to gaze into her own, her mind clearly occupied by something that has been pressing down on her for a while.

“What happened to me and you?”

It feels like a slap across the face, a cold, hard slap with a wet fish. That’s not even dead. And covered in slime.

“What do you mean?” Aquaria’s mouth feels dry, so she runs her tongue across her lower lip, which helps very little. She knows exactly what she means.

“We used to be best friends, Aqua. We were inseparable. Don’t you remember us sharing everything? I stayed at your house, like, every other night. What the fuck went wrong?” Brianna is angry now, and it takes Aquaria by surprise – it’s a rare emotion in the usually laid back, easy going and happy girl that she used to know so well.

“We’re still friends,” Aquaria mumbles, though it’s a poor attempt at reassurance. Is this what’s been weighing down on Brianna the last week? Surely it can’t be? And yet, a small part of Aquaria’s heart, dedicated to Brianna, lights up in hope that it could be.

“Yeah, great. I can’t remember the last time I was alone with you. When did we last hang out that wasn’t at fucking lunchtime?”

It hurts. It really fucking hurts. Aquaria’s chest feels like it’s closing in on her. Brianna doesn’t remember. She doesn’t remember the fatal night that caused Aquaria to distance herself from Brianna, gradually, slowly, because the more time she spent with her, the more it hurt, like a dagger twisted into her chest, plunging deeper as the days, weeks, months passed. She had to get it out, even if that meant the end of their friendship, which it almost did.

She sure as hell isn’t going to bring it up.

“I know,” she says instead, shaking her head, hoping that the hurt she feels hasn’t seeped into her voice. “You know I still care about you. Which is why I want to know what’s been going on with you?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Brianna groans, clearly uncomfortable at what she knows Aquaria is about to bring up.

“Bri, you got a C and didn’t even care. You missed French, and you’re in here in a free period! I’m not crazy, something is the matter,” Aquaria says, mostly to reassure herself. There’s a long pause, as Brianna appears to be thinking something over, painfully slowly. Aquaria chews at the inside of her cheek anxiously, enough so that the metallic taste of her own blood seeps into her mouth

“Well, okay,” Brianna says, at last, looking up at Aquaria with a small, sad smile on her face. “Maybe you can help me. I could use your advice.”

“You know I’m shit at advice. You do know I’m shit at advice?” Aquaria says. If Brianna remembered who she was at all she would know that, but the girl just shakes her head, looking at Aquaria as if she holds a cure for all her troubles.

“I think you’re my best bet, right now.”

There’s something about this statement that makes Aquaria extremely nervous, the worry now pounding through her mind, amplified to a million times to what it was before, but how the hell can she refuse now?

“Um, okay, I’ll try my best.”

“I’ve been, sort of, realising some things about myself recently.”

“Things?”

There’s a long, painful, drawn out pause. Brianna can’t even look at Aquaria, who’s staring at her so intensely she might possibly be about to burn a hole through her skull.

“Like, maybe I’m not actually straight?”

Oh. That was not what Aquaria was expecting, at all. She almost chokes on air, trying her best to maintain a neutral disposition as she nods encouragingly, willing Brianna to continue as her mind starts whirring at a million miles an hour. Is this about her? Can she possibly dare to hope that it is?

“You’re… gay?”

“Maybe, god, I don’t know. I haven’t talked to a single person about this yet.”

God, that feels like old times. A bittersweet wave of nostalgia washes over Aquaria. Sitting up for hours and blurting any random thing that they could ever possibly think of. No secrets, no lies. Come to think of it, Brianna did once say that she had an unexplainable crush on the groovy chick girl that adorned her bedding as a kid.

“I just feel so lost, all of a sudden. I’m eighteen years old and I’m only just figuring out that I like girls?”

“Hey, that’s not that old. People don’t figure it out until college normally.”

Brianna laughs, though it’s painfully bitter, shaking her head in amusement, causing her friend to smile, just slightly.

“See, bad advice! What did I tell you?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it, like, it’s keeping me up at night. And I have to avoid her, which is where you come in.”

“What?”

“Well, she made me realise I like girls at all. I have a huge, ridiculous crush on her.”

“Who, Bri?”

“Blair.”

And, just like that, the world comes crumbling down.

[artificialqueens]

But I'm A Cheerleader! - Chapter 30 (Aja x Farrah) - Millie

A/N: Happy 1 year anniversary to this fic! The first chapter was submitted on April 7th last year, hence why I decided to publish this chapter at the same time. I can’t believe it’s taken me a year to reach 30 chapters! Also during the time of writing this chapter I met a load of queens including Farrah which was literally the best night of my life and she was incredibly sweet. As a little celebration I made a Spotify playlist for this fic :)

 When Monday came around, the cheerleaders received an announcement from Miss Visage, with Cynthia standing by her side. They’d both come to the conclusion that they’d need to host auditions to acquire new cheerleaders in time for when the seniors graduated. There were six in total - Charlie, Cynthia, Nina, Alexis, Kimora, and Peppermint - and they needed to fill every spot to fit the routines that they did.

 "Since RuPaul’s Glamazons won this season, we decided that they could be in charge of auditions,“ Miss Visage had told them all first thing in the morning. “B-52 Bombers: you can attend if you’d like, but the Glamazons will get first pick from the lineup if you don’t.”

 "I’ll definitely be there,“ Cynthia had assured. "You can go to your classes instead and I’ll pick the best girls!”

 A feeling of excitement had bubbled in Aja’s stomach. She missed cheerleading so dearly since football season had ended and they were waiting so desperately for their results from the tryouts. She’d never had the privilege of attending an audition as a judge before, as previous captains had been much stricter and the teachers less involved. Even if she wasn’t going to perform, it filled her with happiness to witness someone else do it. Plus, she got to wear her cheer uniform, which she hadn’t even looked at since the tryouts.

 They organised to host the auditions in a week’s time, and Shea got to creating the advertisements. The end result was a giant header, reading, “Cheerleader Auditions,” in a sparkly, pink font that resembled the format of some text from Microsoft Publisher, with, “Monday after school in the gym - GOOD LUCK!” written underneath in cursive. It looked very girly (not to perpetuate stereotypes, Aja reminded herself) and almost childish, but all of them were happy with it and it got straight to the point.

 So, when next Monday quickly arrived, everyone was raring and ready to get this going. They put up signs on the gym door to less-than-subtly remind people of the auditions, and provided sheets outside for people to put their name, age, grade, etc. down so that they were easy to keep track of. Aja admired her team’s organisation skills, and everything felt very professional.

 Sitting at the table in the gym were all of RuPaul’s Glamazons, as well as Cynthia, Valentina, and Eureka. The rest of the Bombers had decided that class was more important, even if it was almost the end of the year, and so had passed on this opportunity.

 "Who’s next?“ Aja asked, who was sitting on the right-hand side of the table.

 Cynthia, who was next to her, flipped through the application forms for a moment. So far, most of the girls had been fairly disappointing.

 Her eyes widened once they landed upon the name at the top of the sheet in her hands. "Oh, my God,” she said.

 "What?“ Aja questioned. "Someone famous or something?”

 "Well, kind of,“ Cynthia replied. "Brianna Cracker - that’s Bob the Cheerleader’s younger sister! And Peppermint’s cousin!”

 Aja’s expression mirrored Cynthia’s, as did the rest of the table. “You mean Miz Cracker?” she asked. “Apparently she goes by that now.”

 "Have you guys seen her cheer before?“ Jaymes asked. "I saw her with who I presume is her old team a couple years ago at a convention centre and she won some trophy.”

 "Then I imagine she’s pretty good,“ Shea said. "Should we call her in?”

 Cynthia nodded. “Miz Cracker!” she called towards the door, and a second later, a petite, blonde girl walked in.

 She looked nothing like Bob. First of all, she had extremely voluminous, blonde waves, and was about a foot shorter than Bob was. However, all of them were sure that their talent would be on the same level, or at least, they were hopeful.

 "Hiya,“ Cracker said with a grin.

 "Hey,” Sasha said. “What kind of position are you auditioning for?”

 "Preferably a flyer,“ she replied.

 "Alright; go ahead,” Sasha said. “Show us what you have.”

 Cracked nodded curtly, and quickly tied her hair back into a low ponytail. She leapt forward into a front handspring, looking almost weightless as she did it. Next, she did a backflip before cartwheeling, landing in the splits. Compared to other people they’d seen, this was quite advanced, especially for a sophomore. A lot of the current cheerleaders had only learnt moves like that from being on the team, certainly not before that.

 She pulled herself up and bowed, receiving a round of applause form everyone.

 "Seniors? Any requests?“ Sasha asked, looking around the table. They had agreed that the seniors could have the most say in who would join the team, especially considering that they were the ones being replaced - the new girls had to carry on that talent.

 "Can you do a back handspring?” Eureka asked.

 "I can try…“ Cracker said. She took a visibly deep breath before bending her knees and throwing herself backwards into a shaky back handspring, landing precariously on her feet. Eureka seemed impressed, raising her eyebrows.

 “Great!” Cynthia said, smiling. “Can you cheer?”

 “Sure…!” she replied hesitantly. “What do you want me to say?”

 “We are RuPaul’s Glamazons; got our cheering panties on,” Aja piped up. She was impressed thus far, and if she heard the Glamazons’ words come out of her mouth, she could be even more convinced of Miz Cracker’s talents. “Our beat is unstoppable; our hair is unclockable.” Cracker got her gist and went ahead.

 “We are RuPaul’s Glamazons; got our cheering panties on!” she belted, a grin spread across her face. “Our beat is unstoppable; our hair is unclockable.“ She concluded with one hand on her waist and the other up in the air, shaped into a triumphant fist. It was convincing enough.

 "That was great!” Sasha encouraged. “Thanks for coming. We’ll let you know at the end if you made the cut.”

 "Thanks!“ Cracker nodded at her before leaving the gym, more spring in her step than before.

 -

 The next girl to impress everyone was surprisingly a freshman: Aquaria. However, Aja wasn’t pleased at this. Sure, she was quite talented, but she had a vibe about her that made her seem, frankly, unlikable. She looked fairly similar to Miz Cracker and had pretty much the same skill set as her, which was even more annoying; there would certainly be fights over who got who.

 Kameron was another very impressive student. She had the biggest muscles that Aja had ever seen on a girl, especially someone of a sophomore age, and was strong enough to lift a person by herself (which she demonstrated on Cynthia). She seemed quite sweet, too, and her cheers were filled with enthusiasm.

 The cheerleaders went through several other girls before they finally landed on another talented person, and that was Monét. Aja knew Monét through Bob and Luis, and knew she’d tried out for the team a couple times in the past. She had no idea why they hadn’t taken her on previously; her stunts were absolutely phenomenal.

 Yuhua was straight after that, and was just as charismatic. Her cheering was loud and clear, which was exactly what they were looking for, and her stunts were some of the smoothest they’d seen so far.

 To finish, there was The Vixen.

 Cynthia had first addressed her as simply, "Vixen”, which she wasn’t pleased about.

 ”The Vixen,“ she had corrected immediately, which at first gave her the same air as Aquaria. However, after that, she was perfectly nice, and her performance was sharp. Aja would watch out for her if she ended up with the Glamazons. Shea had been to middle school with her and they were close friends, and apparently she was notorious for her dancing.

 -

 "Is that everyone?” Aja asked, trying to peer through the door that The Vixen was leaving through. The rest of the girls that had auditioned were still standing there restlessly, some tapping one foot or shifting between legs to stand on.

 "I guess so,“ Cynthia said.

“What’s the verdict?” Shea questioned. “Does everyone know who they want?“

 "I think it’s obvious who the best are,” Alexis said. “I mean, everyone else was boring as fuck compared to Cracker, Kameron, Monét, Yuhua, and The Vixen. And, dare I say it, Aquaria.”

 "Do we really have to have her?“ Valentina complained. Being a freshman herself, she was perfectly aware of Aquaria’s irritating tendencies. Aja thought they would’ve been friends, considering that they were both up their own asses. Maybe Aquaria wasn’t quite with the whole backstabbing thing yet.

 ”Someone has to take her,“ Shea said. "I think we should get first pick - we have two people leaving and you guys have four, so chances are you’ll get at least one person you want.”

 Cynthia didn’t seem happy about this, biting her bottom lip. However, she decided to just suck it up - she wasn’t the one who had to deal with the new girls.

 "Alright,“ she gave in. "You can have first pick.”

 Shea beamed, and instructed the rest of the Glamazons to head to the other side of the gym so they could discuss each performer. They sat down in a circle, hunching over to contain the volume.

 "So, who’s everyone’s favourites?“ Shea asked quietly. "Obviously, I have to go with my girl, The Vixen.”

 "I really like Cracker,“ Aja said. The tiny sophomore had really made an impression on her; she was so talented for such a young cheerleader, and according to Jaymes’ anecdote, she was experienced too.

 "I have to agree with Aja,” Jaymes said. “Plus, I thought Kameron was great.”

 Alexis hummed in approval, nodding. “She could replace me as a base.”

 "I think The Vixen was great,“ Nina said. "But Monét was my favourite.”

 "I loved Yuhua,“ Sasha added, "and Miz Cracker. She’d be an amazing flyer.”

 "I agree. Cracker was one of the best, as was The Vixen,“ Charlie chimed in.

 "So, we want Cracker?” Shea asked. “I’ve got to admit, she was pretty good.” The rest of the squad nodded.

 "I think our second pick should be Kameron,“ Aja advised. "Like Alexis said, she’d make a great base.”

 "I can see that happening,“ Sasha said.

 Shea furrowed her eyebrows. "I’d love her too, but there’s so many other girls that we could have on our team. It’s a hard choice.”

 "They’d still be cheerleaders,“ Aja said. "But they’d be Bombers. And we’re good with the Bombers now, so it’s not a total travesty.” Not to toot her own horn, but the peace treaty was all thanks to herself and Farrah.

 "Yeah, only because you’re banging one of them,“ Sasha teased, poking Aja in the shoulder. The group snickered, and Shea put her hand in front of her mouth so she wouldn’t burst out laughing.

 "Whoa!” Aja said, trying not to raise her voice louder than a normal speaking volume. “Who said we’re banging?”

 "You haven’t yet?“ Alexis asked. "Charlie and I totally thought you had.”

 Aja’s forehead creased. “No, we haven’t,” she said. “Maybe that’s weird for you, Alexis, but it’s not that weird.” She threw Alexis a half smile. She mocked offence, laughing a couple seconds later.

 "Anyway - off topic,“ Aja said, concluding the very brief discussion. "Let’s get back to the others.”

 The pushed themselves off of the ground and walked back over to the table where Cynthia, Eureka, and Valentina resided, their footsteps echoing throughout the mostly empty gym.

 "Have y'all made a decision?“ Eureka asked.

 Aja nodded. "We want Cracker, first and foremost,” she told them firmly. “And…”

 "Kameron,“ Shea whispered to her, as did Sasha and Alexis a second later.

 "Kameron,” Aja repeated.

 Cynthia wasn’t totally devastated - she had girls who were just as talented, even though she wanted Miz Cracker the most. However, Aquaria was just as skilled, and the remaining Bombers would have to make do, especially with that attitude.

 -

 "How were auditions?“ Farrah asked, strewn across her bed with one arm on her stomach, the other fiddling with the hem of Aja’s cheer shirt. Aja was sitting next to her, the arm closest to Farrah’s head propping her up.

 "Mostly boring,” Aja said. “But there were some really talented girls. You know Miz Cracker?”

 Farrah’s eyes lit up. “Of course,” she exclaimed. “Last year, when Bob was on our team, she took us to a tournament where Cracker was performing - she was amazing!”

 "We took her on,“ Aja said with a smile; she loved when Farrah got excited. "She’s a Glamazon, now.”

 Farrah scowled. “Why not a Bomber?” she questioned.

 Aja shrugged. “We got first pick.”

 "So, who’s on my team?“ she asked, eyes beaming. Aja just couldn’t help but want to kiss her when she had that happy expression.

 "Aquaria Needles, Yuhua Hamasaki, Monét X Change, and The Vixen. I don’t know what her last name is,” she replied. “And Kameron Michaels is the other Glamazon.”

 "I know Monét,“ she said. "Her and Cracker are, like, best friends. And I’ve spoken to Kameron a couple of times.”

“They all seem really nice,” she said. “Well, apart from Aquaria - she was quite full of herself.” She let out a yawn; the stress and exhaustion of the auditions was finally catching up to her, and she was suddenly feeling tired. The gym contained nothing but harsh overhead lights, which really made her, and all the cheerleaders’, eyes ache.

 "Those auditions tiring you out, huh?“ Farrah commented, shifting on the bed so that she was sitting up, opposite Aja. She caressing her cheek, sliding the pad of her thumb slowly over her skin and supporting her head with her fingers.

 Aja nodded as she yawned again, her eyes closing in a slow blink, feeling very much how she imagined Farrah felt when she was indulged in this way.

 "Can I make you feel better?” she asked, looking up through her lashes at her girlfriend. “Relieve some stress?”

 Aja raised her eyebrows at her, suddenly perky, and stifling a disbelieving laugh - she’d never heard Farrah speak like that before, although part of her knew that Farrah could sweet talk her way through anything, as if sweet talk were her native language.

 "Go ahead,“ Aja responded. "Relieve it.”

 Farrah pushed forward until her lips met Aja’s, and her hands slid to her girlfriend’s bare shoulders, her skin sunkissed and warm. She squeezed softly, her pastel pink, chipped nails digging into Aja’s skin ever so slightly, and her lips matched the slow pace. Gently, but with confidence, Aja was pressed flush against the wall, her Dutch braids slightly uncomfortable against the flat surface, but she didn’t mind - it was Farrah, who could always manage to distract her from something.

 Farrah pulled away a couple of centimetres, immediately dipping her head towards Aja’s neck, and the sudden, new contact sent a flame down her back, forcing out a shiver and an almost silent whimper.

 Farrah smiled at the results; Aja could feel the twinge in her lips. “You okay?” she drawled, gliding her hands down from Aja’s shoulders to her ribs, running her thumbs along the exposed parts.

 Aja, far too distracted, suddenly realised she should reciprocate. Her hands dove to Farrah’s thick, blonde hair, tugging lightly as an encouragement.

 "I’m great,“ she breathed out, sighing heavily.

 "Good,” Farrah replied, planting soft kisses all the way down to Aja’s collarbone, all previous kisses feeling suddenly cold without the contact.

 Aja untangled her legs and wrapped them around Farrah’s hips, feeling kind of ridiculous being the taller out of the two, but she didn’t pay it much attention. Farrah took that as a cue to go further, her hands travelling even higher to the hem of Aja’s cheer shirt. They both froze.

 "Can I?“ Farrah asked, tugging at the edges.

 Aja thought for a second - what did she have to lose?

 She nodded. "Do it,” she affirmed.

 With a little help, Farrah managed to lift the shirt over Aja’s head, the warm summer air hitting her chest. Maybe, she thought to herself, Alexis had foreshadowed this during the auditions today.

 Farrah glanced down at her chest: the bra was a pretty simple, everyday-wear design, but the blonde looked at it as if it were an intricate, lace garment that someone had slaved over for hours. Aja pulled Farrah’s face to her own again, kissing her more forcefully and tightening her grip around her waist. Farrah’s hands wandered further upwards, playing with the material of Aja’s bra, sliding forward until her right hand was on the cup, and she squeezed gently.

 Aja broke away, gasping lightly, her forehead leaning against Farrah’s.

 "Is this okay?“ Farrah asked, her hand supporting the material still. "Have you done this before?”

 Embarrassed, Aja shook her head. She’d never even had a relationship before, let alone an occurrence like this. “I’m okay, though,” she said, her voice coming out more timid than she’d expected. She wasn’t used to sounding this vulnerable.

 “You sure, baby?”

 She nodded quickly before diving back in, bouncing off the springboard into the kiss once more, further confirming her answer. Farrah squeezed the same place again but with more force, eliciting a moan that surprised both of them.

 Aja reached around the back of Farrah’s shirt and pulled it up from the hem, peeling it off of her without complaint, the two of them only separating so it could be removed completely. Farrah’s skin felt hot and smooth, reminding Aja of honey. She was just as sweet, too.

Before she closed her eyes again, she noticed the vast amount of freckles dotted along the tops of Farrah’s shoulders and back. They were barely visible when she had something like her cheer shirt on, and she didn’t realise how many there actually were. It was cute.

 Farrah’s hands travelled further down, snaking across Aja’s waist and landing on her ass. She began to undo the zipper on her cheer skirt, but not before breaking away to check with Aja that this was alright. And it was. She continued to tug the zip, which was getting stiff after three years of wear, and soon the item of clothing had been removed, tossed over the bedpost along with her shirt and any worries that they had.

 “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Farrah said softly, kissing the corner of Aja’s jaw. Aja beamed as Farrah pulled away to regard her, her eyes glazing over her chest.

 “Hmm,” she feigned thought, “I think you have, but I’d love to hear it again.” 

Farrah giggled; a gentle sound that vibrated through both girls’ chests, creating a warm feeling of closeness. “You’re beautiful,” she reiterated. “Inside and out.” She craned her neck up again to reach Aja’s lips, holding on to her shoulders for support.

 Aja pulled back. “Let me make this easier for you,” she laughed. She leant them to the side so that Farrah’s head slowly fell into the pillow, and Aja positioned herself above her, straddling the blonde’s hips. “Better?” she asked, smirking.

 “Infinitely,” Farrah said. She pulled Aja down with her index finger under her chin, resuming the kiss, before both of her hands took their place along Aja’s back, running along the length of her torso as the kiss deepened. Instead of being full of energy like Farrah had “planned”, Aja felt like she could just melt into nothing right now, under Farrah’s gentle but confident touch. There was no place she would’ve rather been in that moment.

 Farrah’s hands followed the shape of her figure, all the way to Aja’s ass once again, squeezing with more intent, her nails marking the skin with no shame. Afraid of making a noise that Farrah’s mom could hear, Aja attempted to distract herself, hooking her finger around Farrah’s bra strap and playing with the delicate lace that decorated it. It felt natural, almost calming, and Farrah didn’t seem to mind - if anything, she knew it was nerves.

 Aja’s lips left Farrah’s momentarily, and the blonde tilted her head towards the lack of touch, practically begging for it. Instead, Aja dove downwards, directing her lips to Farrah’s neck; she sighed, sounding relieved, and muttered a very quiet, “Fuck”, when Aja trailed down to her collarbone, dragging her lips across heated skin that was becoming blotchy. She kissed all the way down to her chest, pausing at her bra and resuming again over the plane of her toned stomach. Within a matter of seconds, her lips reached the border of Farrah’s skirt - she didn’t dare go any further, no matter how loud the voice in the back of her head was screaming at her to do so.

 Farrah, fighting an urge as well, slightly disappointedly motioned Aja to come back up to eye level, using one hand to tug her upwards. But with the disappointment came relief; she valued Aja’s comfort over anything, and for someone who rarely expressed how she felt, she could tell that her girlfriend wasn’t ready in the slightest just by the way she suddenly froze below her navel.

 “Are you comfortable right now?” Farrah checked.

 Aja nodded. “Of course,” she replied. She noticed how swollen Farrah’s lips were. She also clocked the bright purple lipstick she always wore with her cheer outfit that ran down like animal tracks across the whole front of her body, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

 “What is it?” Farrah asked, looking down at whatever Aja was staring at. Once she noticed the trail of makeup, she joined in with the laughter. “I look like a radioactive leopard or something.”

 Aja sat back up, tracing the path of her lipstick with one finger. 

Something about its presence gave her a sense of pride; she’d left her mark on her, physically and probably emotionally. It reminded her that Farrah was hers (in a non-possessive way, obviously), and that she was Farrah’s.

 “What now?” Farrah asked, bringing Aja away from her thoughts. She was looking up at Aja with great, big, doe-eyes. Her breathing was slightly laboured and her heart-rate was still through the roof, she could feel it all under the one finger laying on her stomach. Aja thought she looked absolutely beautiful.

 She shook her head. “Nothing,” she lied. She wasn’t going to spew some sentimental crap after everything that had just happened, and even thinking about doing so made her cringe internally.

Despite knowing that “nothing” was certainly “something”, Farrah decided to not press on. Besides, if it were serious, Aja would tell her at some point. Instead, she sat back up, pulling Aja towards her. She looked into her eyes and then at her lips, where the purple lipstick had been just a few minutes before, and kissed her very softly, and Aja felt a gentle smile appear on the other girl’s lips. She raised her hands and tangled them in blonde waves which were now slightly mussed up, bringing her face closer and deepening the kiss for the millionth time that afternoon. It had been so long since either of them felt so close with another person.

Just as Farrah was pressing Aja against the mattress, the sound of a door moving across carpet interrupted them. Aja’s blood froze in her veins and her eyes shot open, and Farrah grabbed her t-shirt, as if that would do anything. Aja propped herself up on her elbows when she heard no other noise, only to realise what had caused it.

 “Fuck off, Fluffy,” Farrah huffed, exasperated.

 Aja laughed at her annoyance, and the calico cat chirped at her as soon as he saw her face, running over and waiting for Aja to extend her hand for a scratch.

 Farrah had received Fluffy as a birthday present when she was eight years old. Needless to say, he wasn’t what poor little Farrah had expected a cat to be. He refused cuddles, petting, any toys that were bought for him, and often resided in his bed, playing with something he’d found himself. However, after Aja had been to Farrah’s house several times, he immediately warmed up to her, much to the aggravation of Farrah - he absolutely adored her (except, who wouldn’t?).

 “Go away, you annoying cat,” Farrah demanded not-very-threateningly, sitting up and pointing her finger at the feline in question.

 “He just wants some attention,” Aja said. “Don’t you! You adorable, little thing,” she cooed. She always caved in front of animals. “Hey, you two have something in common!”

 Farrah’s jaw dropped open, and she swore she could see Fluffy smirking at her menacingly. But she knew Aja was right.

 Aja patted the bed so that Fluffy would jump up, and he did so, purring and rubbing his head against Aja’s. He rolled over next to her, inviting her in for a belly rub.

 “Such a little cockblock,” Farrah muttered under her breath, although Aja clearly heard it, but she was too busy stroking Fluffy to care.

 A few minutes went by, filled with contented purring and what could be considered hate speech from Farrah directed at her cat. Aja was happy, though. She had her girlfriend (albeit, not as amused) right above her, the cheer teams were more or less organised, and, most importantly, there was a very pleased calico next to her.

 Farrah huffed for what was probably the seventh time in those few minutes, tired of the attention not being on her, but instead on this miserable, grumpy animal. Aja looked up at her, raising one eyebrow, and her eyes met Farrah’s annoyed ones.

 “You want to be the focus now?” she joked. It wasn’t unusual for Farrah to stir up a fuss when Fluffy was brought into the mix. Aja just loved him too much, and gave in far too easily. Farrah pouted, nodding, and shooting a glare towards an oblivious Fluffy.

 Aja pushed herself upwards and shuffled along the bed, pulling Farrah with her before lying down, the blonde following suit. She smiled, content, and tucked a wisp of purple hair behind Aja’s ear that had escaped from her braid. Aja wrapped her arms around her, the feeling of skin on skin still unnatural to her, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just new.

 “You remind me of Tinkerbell,” Aja blurted out.

 “Hmm?” Farrah hummed. “Why’s that?”

 “You need attention or you’ll die.” Aja laughed when Farrah let out a noise of disagreement. “And you’re small.”

 “I’m not that small!” Farrah protested, but the fact that the top of Farrah’s head only reached Aja’s chin begged to differ.

 “See, you didn’t disagree with the attention thing,” she countered.

 “Shut up and cuddle me,” she said, grumbling, and pulled Aja closer to her. Aja did as she was told, wrapping her arms further around her girlfriend and stroking her hair. Meanwhile, Farrah traced lines across Aja’s skin, their paths having little meaning, but were subconsciously drawn denser in the places Aja had mentioned one night where she wanted tattoos. Her finger glided perfectly, like ink to paper.

 -

Aja expected herself to be asleep after such an exhausting day, but that wasn’t the case right now.

After washing the stray lipstick off in the shower, Farrah had got changed into pyjamas, getting into bed and forcing some affection on Fluffy, who’d surprisingly stayed in Farrah’s room for so long. Before that, she’d chucked Aja something to sleep in: an old t-shirt and shorts, the t-shirt previously belonging to Aja because she gave it away to her; everything else Farrah owned was slightly too small for her. After getting changed, they’d both crawled under the covers with the intention of sleeping, but Aja couldn’t seem to do it.

She was lying there on her back, staring up at the numerous Farrah Fawcett and Christina Aguilera posters that adorned the room, pressed against the cool, pink wall next to Farrah’s narrow bed. Farrah was turned to the side, her arms wrapped around Aja’s midsection and her head resting on her shoulder. Aja’s arm held her snugly against herself, outlining the curve of her shoulders.

With her free hand, she reached for her phone from underneath her pillow. Doing absolutely nothing was boring, so the least she could do was tire herself out by actually doing something, even if it wasn’t productive. She turned down the brightness on her screen so she wouldn’t wake a fast-asleep Farrah, and clicked on various social media until she found something vaguely interesting. After a while, she settled on Instagram, and mindlessly scrolled through posts in the hopes that her boredom would eventually soothe her to sleep. Beside her, Farrah remained unawake, her mouth slightly open, and Aja was envious.

After scrolling for a minute or so, Aja came across a photo of some old friends (if you could even call them friends anymore): Kandy, Momo, and Dahlia. Once again, they were hanging out without her somewhere, and the photo made them look like they were having the time of their life. The last time they’d invited Aja somewhere was over six months ago, and all the “invite” really was was, “We need to see each other more!”. Aja had made efforts to see them, she really had, but they always seemed to be busy. In times like this, she was more than grateful for Sasha. Even though they rarely hung out either, they were always in contact no matter what, and they could tell each other pretty much anything.

It was then that something clicked in her mind. Without so much as a second thought, Aja clicked on Kandy’s username which took her to her profile, and she firmly pressed the Unfollow button. She did the same with the other girls, and once her feed was clear of selfish friends, she felt herself breathe more easily. Years of friendship were gone at the click of a button, but there was no sense of loss. Besides, she was pretty sure they’d all unfollowed her at some point as well.

She tucked her phone back under her pillow and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. She opened them again a few seconds later and looked over at Farrah, peaceful, breathing slowly and steadily. A smile grabbed at the corners of her lips.

“I love you,” she whispered, even though everyone in the house was asleep. It wasn’t like anyone would hear.

“You’re the sweetest, you know that?” she continued just as quietly, not expecting any kind of response from her, but she felt it was important she said what she was thinking. “You deserve everything good that happens to you. And even more than that.”

Fluffy suddenly awoke and stretched his legs before jumping off of the bed. He didn’t seem happy that Aja was still directing all her attention on Farrah. Maybe the two were too similar to ever get along.

“One day, I want to get you a cat that will actually appreciate you,” Aja told her sleeping figure. “I’ll make sure it’s the nicest cat in the world, and it’ll be any colour you want.” Fluffy opened the door with his paw to exit the room, probably outraged at what he was hearing.

“See? He’s an asshole. He loves me, but he doesn’t love you, and what kind of animal wouldn’t love you? An asshole one.” She kissed the top of Farrah’s head, her hair as soft as silk against her lips. “You deserve everything.”

With that, Aja closed her eyes for good, her lids becoming more and more heavy. Her heart was warm and buzzing with a sensation she couldn’t name, but she always felt it around Farrah. And, right now, it was lulling her to sleep.

In moments like this one, Aja asked herself how she got so lucky. How so much drama and prejudiced hatred turned into a blossoming relationship, and how she’d fallen so hard. How, if she hadn’t been walking home so late, none of this would’ve happened, and the Glamazons and the Bombers would’ve still been sworn enemies.

With one last gentle and weary squeeze, Aja practically passed out from tiredness. The thoughts clouding her mind cleared, and a beautiful view of sleep was revealed.

Farrah pretended she hadn’t heard a single word. She pretended that the sudden light of Aja’s phone hadn’t woken her up, and she wasn’t kept awake by her girlfriend’s little monologue. She pretended that she didn’t want to break character and hug her until her arms gave out, and she pretended she wasn’t grateful for everything. She pretended she wasn’t about to cry from happiness, as she felt both of them drifting off back to sleep.