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foolgobi65 · 5 years ago

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careful man’s careless daughter

@philtstone prompted: Anne/Gilbert babysitter au fake dating prompt #5 let’s go laydees “you have the emotional capacity of a brick. that slate I broke over your head.” (we’re pretending people still use slates now....american schools have no money...its possible ok)

k so i was trying to figure out how to work in the babysitter + fake dating and ... like a flash the plot to this old telugu/tamil movie i love missamma/missaimaa came to mind -- its not quite the same because they’re two people pretending to be married so that they can make money as school teachers/live in tutors for a wealthy family’s daughter but it works just enough that i decided to roll with it lol.

this technically isn’t the actual babysitting, nor the fake dating which I actually turned into a fake marriage lol, but i hope u still like it, even though it is all over the place and a general wreck because i wrote it straight through without any editing or thought towards pacing/characterization bc i havent written in forever lol!! im not even sure what the time period setting is lol, and i dont think my translating of the anne events into a semi modern day even works but w/e lol.

u are the truest of friends, the light of my life, and have certainly heard more than your share of my mental breakdowns both in the last month and the last few years lol. u deserve all the good things, all the good fic, all the time.

title is a perversion of a tswift lyric because it came up on youtube. if anyone wants to send in prompts from here

---

“You owe him how much?”

Anne sighs, crossing her legs to hide how uncomfortable she is in this moment -- here she is in the park, fifteen thousand dollars plus interest in medical debt for Marilla’s eye surgery and being hounded by Roy Gardner, ex boyfriend apparently turned loan shark who was on his knees proclaiming both love and loan forgiveness should Anne just accept his proposal.

Here Gilbert Blythe is, sitting on a park bench after two years without contact, watching the whole thing.

“Marilla doesn’t have health insurance,” Anne says, eyes on the ground as she uses the toe of her shoe to grind a leaf into the sidewalk cement. “Even when I was teaching, the union plan didn’t let people add parents on as dependents.” She sighs. “With everything happening with the farm, she couldn’t afford to put money towards a plan and so when her eyes got bad....”

For a moment, there is silence. Anne can almost hear Gilbert’s jaw clench “That’s just wrong.”

Anne laughs, and because her eyes are averted she doesn’t see Gilbert flinch. “That’s America, Blythe.”

“Well,” she hears him say, tone just dripping with what Mrs. Rachel would call the Blythe Stubbornness, “It shouldn’t be.”

She won’t ever admit it, but there’s something Anne has always found deeply compelling about Gilbert when he gets into these moods -- all righteously indignant in a way that Anne feels inside of her own body. Or felt, before Matthew died and left behind debts not even Marilla had known about, and Marilla’s eyes worsened around the the time Anne was let go from her teaching job and even if she had had the job it wouldn’t have mattered, she knows, but still. Beautiful, wonderful, beloved Diana had offered to help, of course she had, but Anne knew that Fred’s business wasn’t yet where it should be and that the parents Barry were still unimpressed with their son in law to be’s financial acumen. So she’d had to go to Roy, who had of course lent his beautiful Anne the money, and of course had arranged for Marilla to be treated at the best hospital in Toronto, of course had set them up in the apartment of a friend of his right in downtown where the rents were a thousand maybe two per month. He’d popped the question for the third time the second Marilla had been released back into Anne’s care.

Almost as if he can hear her thoughts, Gilbert speaks -- “Gardner shouldn’t be harassing you like this either. Who ever heard of charging interest on a loan to a friend? And what on earth does he think he’s going to take from you if you just don’t pay?”

Anne burns. This, she hasn’t told Marilla, nor even her darling Diana. For some reason, it seems alright to tell Gilbert. “The farm,” she mumbles.

Gilbert snorts. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard. Are you saying that Roy Gardner, heir to one of the biggest fortunes in Boston and your ex boyfriend, took your home as collateral on a loan for money you needed to pay for your mother’s surgery?”

Anne says nothing. She still hasn’t looked up at him, hasn’t been able to meet his gaze since she sat down on the bench and told Roy to get up off his knees and wait two months for either his money or her affirmative answer. She blinks, having mercifully forgotten that Gilbert was present for that last bit. She hopes he’s forgotten too.

“And wait, before he left you said....” No such luck. “Anne!” Anne’s sure her entire head must be flame as she closes her eyes, bringing her knees up on the park bench and burying her face into her own lap. “Anne you said you’d marry him if you couldn’t get the money!”

“There’s no debt between spouses,” Anne mumbles. “We’d get to keep the farm, and I wouldn’t ever worry about Marilla’s health again.”

“But you don’t love him!” She doesn’t know if she’s ever heard Gilbert sound so scandalized.

“I used to!” she tries to retort, but even Anne knows that her voice betrays her when she tries to speak this lie. “I used to think I was,” she amends, “and maybe that’s as close as I’m allowed to get -- he’s rich, handsome, he even loves me! What more could I ask for?”

“Coercing you into marriage, demanding interest on money that we all know is just pocket change for someone like him...that’s not love,” Gilbert Blythe responds, with all that....that all-knowing Blytheness in his voice that Anne has hated since she was 13 years old and the new kid in a class of people who had always known each other just as easily as they had known themselves. “Love is selfless, Anne, strong and kind. It makes you better for giving away your heart, even if the one you love doesn’t give you theirs in return.”

Gilbert Blythe, always acting as if he knows something Anne does not. He speaks as if he’s been in love, at some point over the years since he was last in Avonlea and for some reason Anne absolutely burns with that knowledge. Ooh she just hates him, now at 24 just as easily as she had at 13!

“And what exactly is love worth if it means I just lose the farm trying to pay for Marilla’s surgery, and still have nothing for the next time she’s sick?” Suddenly Anne is on her feet, hands on her hips as she glares at Gilbert looking quite alarmed as he still sits on the bench. The words she has kept locked on the inside, too private to even be written in a diary, come pouring out in one big rush:

“Three of my four parents are already dead, Gilbert Blythe.” Her voice hitches, to her horror, her sudden fury vanishes as she has to blink away the tears she has kept at bay since she and Marilla buried Matthew. Damn Gilbert, for bringing this out of her as well. “I can’t...I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.” Her lips thin, and with a breath, her voice steadies. “I don’t care what you, or anyone else thinks about my choices if it means that I can take care of Marilla.”

Gilbert’s eyes have the sheen of his own tears when he stands, his own lips wobbling just slightly. “I...” he swallows. “Of course, Anne.” Something Anne recognizes as self hatred passes briefly over his face, but she doesn’t understand. “I wish I had money like Gardner to give you, I really do.”

Anne gentles, even if something inside her twists to be the object of the long-old guilt mixed with pity, much less Gilbert Blythe. Since Matthew’s death, every person in Avonlea it seems has sat with Anne and Marilla and offered their deep condolences, their absolute shock at the pair’s financial state of affairs, how much they wish they could help but sadly cannot, what with the way the bank’s collapse has hit their own finances. Only families like the Gardners survive economic crashes with money to burn.

“I wouldn’t have taken it even if you had,” she offers instead, shrugging casually.

His eyes flash. “But you took Gardner’s?”

“I thought he loved me!” Anne closes her eyes, somehow feeling her cheeks flush even deeper. This is why she’s avoided all mention of Gilbert Blythe so strenuously since high school graduation, because more than anyone else he is the one who drags out the words she is always learning to keep inside. Here he is, somehow pulling confessions Anne hadn’t even dreamed of telling Diana, confessions that make her seem small, and stupid, lost in a world so much more complicated and treacherous than she can handle all on her lonesome.

Well, she thinks, in for a penny --

“I thought he loved me,” she says, “and that he had the money to spare. I didn’t realize...” She looks away again, so that she never has to see him react to her folly.

“Oh Anne,” Gilbert says, for some reason so soft and stricken that Anne’s knees go weak with her sudden desire to fall to the ground and weep. “You deserve so much better.”

And now she’s angry again. “What would you know about what I deserve?” Anne spits, “you haven’t even been home since you started med school!” Vaguely, Anne thinks that Gilbert hasn’t been home since she and Roy had gotten serious, serious enough for her to bring him to Green Gables and show him the place that had been her very first love. Coincidences can be so strange.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, glaring again at the ground. “None of this matters. I’m just going to go home” Anne clenches her jaw, knowing that when she gets back to Green Gables she will go into her room and play every excruciating part of this conversation back in her head, again and again until she throws up or passes out at dawn from sheer exhaustion. Maybe both, if she’s lucky. She leans back slightly and manages to turn around on her heels, a trick Gilbert Blythe had always pulled at school and had had girls thinking he was so cool.

She’s five minutes away from the park bench when suddenly she hears him call out her name.

“Anne,” he shouts again much closer, bending at his waist to balance his hands at his knees as he pants. “God, it really has been two years since I was on the university football team.”

Despite the roiling emotions of five minutes ago, Anne’s lips quirk. “I can’t imagine you all practiced very much to end up near the bottom of your league every year.”

Gilbert’s eyes widen, and for some reason he flushes. Maybe he’s so out of shape that it’s from exertion? “I didn’t realize you kept up with my matches.” Ah. Anne, it seems, will experience nothing else but one long sustained flush as long as she is in front of Gilbert Blythe. “You know,” she tries to say casually, “you hear things here and there. Diana told me the village gossip.”

Gilbert opens his mouth, but then suddenly shakes his head, like a dog trying to dislodge water from its fur. “I have...” he frowns. “I have a proposition for you.” Anne raises what she hopes is an elegant eyebrow. “Oh?”

He grimaces. “There’s a boarding school, a Catholic one, that’s asking for teachers over the summer for a few of their select students who want to be coached for college admissions. Essays, standardized tests, everything. They’ve got heaps of money, and are willing to pay salaries up front. Plus, they cover all your expenses while you’re there!”

Anne blinks, feeling the beginnings of hope gather as kindling at the very dredges of her heart. Once, both Anne and Gilbert had competed so well against each other that they had both gotten into Harvard. Then, Matthew had died, and Anne decided she could just as easily get a teaching degree at the state school and stay closer to Marilla too. Gilbert alone had had the distinction of being the first from Avonlea to reach such heights, and had reached even higher when he had been accepted again to Harvard Medical School.

But at one point, both Anne and Gilbert had taken their SATs. They’d both written their application essays. They’d both gotten in. Anne, even, had been offered a full ride compared to Gilbert’s only partial scholarship, so there could even be an argument that of the two, Anne had been the one on top.

And if nothing else, Anne is even better at teaching than she was at taking tests.

“I’ll do it,” she says firmly. “Where and when do I need to report, and how much money are they offering?” For a second, a bright, dazzling grin paints Gilbert’s face. “Really? Ten--” he coughs, “Twenty thousand.” Anne frowns.

“Each?” It sounds like a dream come true. Five thousand more than Anne needs, and paid upfront. She could save the farm, and put away five thousand towards the farm’s debts. “That sounds....exorbitant.” He nods, suddenly more confident. “Yep! Twenty thousand for sure.” He laughs. “I know Gardner was supposed to be slumming it at state school, but you really can’t be surprised at how much money rich people are willing to throw at a problem.”

“The problem being...their children.” Gilbert’s grin turns wicked. “The problem being their children’s SAT scores, and lack of compelling anecdote to base an admission’s essay on, yes.”

Anne laughs, wicked in this moment as well. She wishes in this moment, fiercely, as she has many times over the last few years, that she had been able to go to university with Gilbert at her side -- as the friends they had slowly begun to be after years of one and two sided enmity, before time and distance had turned them into near strangers. She doesn’t regret staying back, not really, but there is a part of her that no one had ever understood half as well as Gilbert Blythe, who had, after the Harvard interest meeting, drawn and pinned up a schedule for practice SATs that took into account both his and Anne’s often conflicting life schedules.

“What’s the catch,” she asks, grinning when Gilbert chokes “come on, Blythe, there’s always a catch with offers like this. Is it across from a waste manufacturing plant? Is the principal a pervert?”

Slowly, Gilbert Blythe is turning red. “Ah,” he says, shuffling like he never did even when he was an errant schoolboy. “Well,” he says, and....is that his voice cracking?

“Gilbert,” Anne says, trying to reassure him, “I grew up in the foster system, I can handle much worse than bad smells and pervert principals, I promise.”

He frowns. “It’s not that,” he says slowly, “but basically they’re looking for two teachers, a man and a woman to manage the boys and the girls while the rest of the staff go on vacation.”

Anne smiles, trying to ignore the jolt of her heart at the thought of an entire summer with Gilbert, studying like they used to but as friends. Her old dreams, finally coming true. “That’s perfect then, you take one job and I’ll take the other! It’ll be like old times, kind of.”

He smiles faintly, as if, even after locking horns with the best and brightest at Harvard, Anne is still the person he wants to be trading barbs with over the heads of high school students for months on end. “I’d like nothing better, he says, except...”

“Except?”

Gilbert inhales. “ExceptTheSchoolWillOnlyHireAMarriedCoupleSoThatTheyDon’tHaveToWorryAboutOutofWedlockSexorTeachersHavingSexWithStudents.” All in a rush, and now Gilbert is the one who can’t apparently handle eye contact.

“What?”

“The school,” Gilbert says to his shoes, “since it’s Catholic, and also since they’re lazy, only want a married couple so that they don’t have to have anyone watching to make sure the teachers aren’t having sex with the students. Or each other.”

Anne blinks. “But we’re not married!”

Gilbert grimaces, opening his mouth, but then just biting his lip. They could be, Anne thinks, only a tad hysterical. Only all of Avonlea was matching them up all the years of high school, and even the years after until she’d met Roy. It would be so easy to get a certificate. They could get a divorce by September, even annul their marriage since they definitely wouldn’t be having sex.

Twenty thousand dollars.

“So what you’re saying,” Anne says slowly, her lip curling of its own accord “is that after all that talk about what love is and isn’t, and telling me that I shouldn’t marry Roy for the money he’d give me, your blockheaded solution is instead, for me to marry you?”

Gilbert looks up. “Well when you put it that way--” Anne sees red, even as she already sees herself in one of her old white lace dresses, standing with Gilbert at the courtroom and signing. “Gilbert Blythe I don’t believe you! Sometimes, I think that you really do have all the emotional capacity of that slate I broke over your head!”

“I know,” he says tone heavy with something so sad that Anne’s hearten softens a bit of its own accord. “But you really need the money, and I promise we’ll get a divorce by September.” He smiles, but there’s something bitter at the corners that Anne has never seen before -- she almost raises her hand to rub the strand of emotion off his lips. “And you’re not the only one who needs the money. Will you do it?”

Twenty thousand dollars. The farm, Marilla, an end to the eternal pity of Avonlea. And also, a small part of her suggests, an opportunity to finally spend time with this new Gilbert Blythe who went off into the world and left her behind.

She sighs. “I vote that you be the one to tell Mrs. Lynde.”

#obviously gilbert's been in love with anne this whole time #not in a really creepy way just a realization that no one he meets compares #a gentle longing for an unrequited love hes accustomed himself to #the salary is originally 10k each but he decides to give her his and cut a deal with the people to put it all in anne's name #which theyre fine with bc theyre married and hes like oh the debts we have are in her name lol #in this au since he didnt give up the school for her this salary thing is probably that equivalent?#anyways anne and gilbert fall in love while teaching annoying rich kids who get a transformative summer that helps them become good people #they reconnect talk about their past their present their futrue #fall in love thinking the other one could never feel the same #good stuff #aogg #anne of green gables #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #maya writes

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Amoretto - Chapter 2 - (Branjie) - dreamyunicorngirl

A/N Here we go again. Please appreciate my attempt at writing Kasia (Kameron x Asia) and some Ninex - probably my fav part. Thanks to Meggie for being an amazing beta! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

CW: alcohol

“You don’t need no unloyal piece of dick - even if it’s some fine piece of dick,” a wide-eyed Latina whispers to herself as a thin smile stretches across her face.

The brunette had left the comfort of her messy but cozy home just about two hours ago in favour of celebrating one of her best friend’s birthday. Vanessa had contemplated earlier if it was really the right decision to go out on a Tuesday, especially considering that there are plenty of essays and textbooks waiting for her at home, but what the hell; Silky only turns 21 once in her life. So after a few minutes of attempting to hold up a responsible personality, her evening plans were settled.

Perfectly painted brows furrow together as slightly tipsy fingertips attempt to fix her smudged lipstick. Brown doe eyes stare at a skimpily clothed woman, wearing her favorite beaded red dress, in a sweat stained mirror, forgetting for a moment that it is her own reflection staring back at her. A flawless mug blurs the lines between the real Vanessa and the seductive and quick witted stranger she craves to be. Dark lashes flutter shut for a second before the girl in question regains her sense of being and flashes herself an encouraging smile.

After one last glance she quickly rinses her hands and leaves the safety of the cool bathroom - leaving behind all of her spiralling thoughts. A ball of energy bounces towards the sultry warm dance floor, greeting all of her friends upon her arrival, most of them barely even realizing that she was gone. Purple and dark blue lights dance on her olive tanned skin, painting a mysterious sunset on her naked limbs. Beaming smiles fill the heavy air as the Latina shakes her body to the catchy rhythm flooding the room, leaving her heart and all of her essence on the dance floor. She twirls and spins and dips, challenging her friends to light a fire under their asses as well, joining her destructive nature to help the brunette tear down the ballroom.

Laughter fills the heavy air between the party crowd, shots are distributed, energy is running high, and serotonin is flooding everyone’s system. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads in the brunette’s chest with each passing second, appreciation radiating off her soul for the lovely evening she gets to spend, surrounded by the best of friends. Ultimately grateful for the loving people in her life, celebrating spending another day with them.

Yet with all the loving and kind people around her, celebrating Silky’s birthday, she still steals glances at her phone screen, hoping to see a message from a certain someone. Her mind distracted, zooming out every once in awhile, barely registering the party crowd. Craving an answer to her flirtatious texts, craving proof of a chance at possible requited love.

But with each glance she gets disappointed. Doe eyes stinging at the corner, an embarrassed figure attempting to hold back the tears forming. So she sashays to the bar instead, grabbing one shot after the other. Showing off her curves to hot bartenders, fluttering with heavy lashes and giggling at gibberish spilling from her friends’ lips she doesn’t understand. All just to take her mind off a certain Tinder date. Ignoring the sting in heart and gulping down the lump forming in her throat.

And with each trip the group of friends takes to the bar, more alcohol enters Vanessa’s system until one shot of tequila is too much - the fatal shot that leads her to see her angel again.

Just moments ago A’keria had ordered a round of tequila shots in honour of their birthday girl. Each guest wishing the life of the party all the best for the new year. Vanessa takes a good minute to scan the crowd surrounding Silky for the first time this evening, and is surprised that she already knows most people. Friends, old hookups, or fellow university students crowd the bar. There are only a couple of people she’s never even laid her eyes on, a model-like redhead who seems to be attached to the hip of a bald sepia skinned young man with an odd laugh, a raven haired girl - sharing a lot of similarities to a K-pop star whose name Vanessa couldn’t remember- and a girl who already seemed like a shady ass bitch, in the first few minutes she had listened to her, who Vanessa doesn’t even want to get to know.

As her eyes carefully scan the crowd, she manages to spot one of her close friends and fellow IT student, Asia, standing at the end of the bar, fairly close to a bodybuilder Barbie with light caramel hair and amber coloured eyes. Vanessa catches the other woman lovingly stare at her friend, tracing random shapes on mocha skin as she giggles to every mindless word spilling from Asia’s lips. The brunette faintly remembers being introduced to the other woman, yet not fully recalling her name. Katja, Kayla, Kimberly - something with K.

Dark knowing eyes catch Vanessa’s staring and wave her over with a smirk.

“Do you remember Kameron, Vanessa?” Asia greets her friend after having paved her way through the crowd. The woman pets the barstool next to her, offering the seat to the brunette.

“Of course I do,” the brunette replies with a small smile, her cheeks painted with a slightly pink tint, embarrassment swimming through her veins, as she scratches the back of her head. Definitely grateful for the reintroduction.

After her little hiccup Vanessa manages to have a heartfelt catch up with her friend. They briefly talk about the upcoming semester and each other’s lovelife, or as much as they manage to scream over the deafening beat penetrating the floor, leading to Asia officially introducing Kameron as her girlfriend. Their revelation sealed by a sickly sweet kiss, nearly making Vanessa gag, so she decides to drag the two lovebirds to the dancefloor instead.

An hour later the three women still dance to old nineties tunes, screech along and stumble over misheard lyrics as Vanessa gets lost in the moment again. Her heart beats along to the rhythm of the beat, music running through her veins. Eyes closed, lost in time. Just living for the moment.

So it’s a no-brainer that she doesn’t catch Kameron’s obviously inhuman beauty - long luxurious lashes, a perfectly proportioned body, glowing skin and flawless curls - or her knowing looks directed towards the brunette, amber eyes never leaving the young woman.

Sickly sweet, lingering kisses are being shared between the couple as the three women converse in small talk during a dance break at the bar, making the brunette third wheel for a few awkward minutes. Envy clouded eyes stare down her fidgeting fingers in her lap, a slouched shoulder leaning against the sticky bar counter. Another shot glass is placed next to her miserable figure, not even eliciting a smile from the brunette. Droopy eyes catch another kiss planted on Asia’s already bruised lips. Why couldn’t she be the one happily in love?

Another alcoholic beverage runs down Vanessa’s throat as a deep sigh escapes her dry lips. Still no new message from her mysterious Tinder guy, Matt. Is it really that hard to actually send her a text back? Isn’t she interesting enough? Loveable enough?

The heartbroken woman empties her shot glass and throws her phone into her purse with an extroverted eye roll. He won’t text or call her anyways. No matter how long she stares at her screen. Ghostly hands grip at her throat, making her choke on air. Tears sting at the corner of her eyes as disappointment settles in her stomach, weighing her down like a sinking anchor in the deep ocean. No one to hold on to. Just a lonely girl all by herself.

As Vanessa looks up again, her now slightly tired eyes scanning the room, she catches an angelic woman with bright white wings entering the club. Naked feet hovering above the ground, a leather quiver and wooden bow hanging over her shoulder, painting an ethereal picture. Fully doubting her vision again, Vanessa tries to rub the sleep out of her eyes, even going as far as blaming the sighting on her slightly tipsy state.

But as she opens her eyes again, Brooke is still here in her godly aura with wings and shit. Vanessa had hoped she would disappear, just like she did this afternoon during her shift at the café down the road. The blonde beauty had appeared out of nowhere, making her drop multiple glasses in the process and scaring her shitless - she probably had looked like a madwoman as well. After a short lecture by her boss and another hour passing like a blur, the incident was already forgotten, upcoming exams and essays now occupying her restless brain.

Vanessa had originally blamed her appearance on her immense coffee and energy drink mix consumption - a constant in nearly every university student’s life - and nearly complete managed to erase the encounter from her memory. Until now.

Here she is, hovering above the dancefloor in a white, sheer robe and trained eyes looking out for her new prey, her aura consuming all of Vanessa’s attention. Dark plum lips fallen agape, pupils blown wide, her right hand gripping the counter so hard that her knuckles turn nearly white.

Brooke’s heavenly body inches closer to another friend of Vanessa, targeting a bubbly girl with long dark blond braids and an enormous love for oversized flannels.

Vanessa excuses herself from the couple in a trance-like state and dares to follow Cupid’s gaze and inches closer to her and her victim, feeling an invisible force pulling her towards the heavenly woman. A regal woman floating through the crowd, massive, feathery wings raised high above her head, yet no head turning her way. An invisible being, only for two pair of eyes to be seen - one not able to keep her distance. The brunette is fully captivated by the creature’s essence, gravitating towards her like a moth toward a light bulb.

From a safe distance Cupid’s blood-dripping arrow hits a girl with candy floss hair, who daringly decided to wear a dark blue pinafore dress above a Mickey Mouse patterned shirt to a club, instead of Vanessa’s friend. Monét continued to crack jokes with her counterpart, completely unaware of the commotion going on around her, missing how Nina’s lungs constrict at the impact, roses immediately blooming in her heaving chest. Her love for the other woman doomed from the beginning.

Vanessa feels the urge to close the distance between her and Brooke Lynn, sprint towards the angelic woman’s spot behind the oblivious Monét and bombard her with all of the questions burning on the tip of her tipsy tongue. But before her mortal body can even catch up with her demanding mind, Silky interupts her plans - always the woman of great timing.

“Are you really spying on these love birds, hoe?”

Vanessa slightly jumps at her sudden appearance, head whipping around in matter of seconds, not prepared to have Silky’s booming voice so close to her ear. So she just simply shakes her head, too stunned - for once- to get a word out.

“Stop being a perv, V, and let Nina get that pussy,” Silky cries out loud, dragging the Latina back to the bar by her wrist, while doe eyes try to catch fleeting pictures of the heavenly creature, and orders another round of shots.

Having lost the immortal of interest, she decides to catch up with A’keria, takes two rounds of shots with the suspiciously sober Kameron and has a dance off with a slightly awkward twink. All in the span of an hour. Just a silent attempt at emptying her overloaded mind. Dancing and drinking away her worries. Trying to forget multiple names at once - but never succeeding.

An exhausted figure paves her way to the bar, ordering a glass of water for once. In a desperate need of a cool down, trying to steady her spinning world for a moment. The tongue in her mouth resting for once, no words bubbling up her throat. Her mind is spiralling at a record pace, jumping from one issue to the other. Matt - university - Brooke Lynn.

Speaking of the later - squinted eyes scan the room again, hoping to catch an ethereal creature hiding in the shadows, hoping to find her personal angel lurking somewhere. Doubting she stuck around, but still hoping to see her again. Needing to talk to her again.

After their last encounter her head has been spinning non-stop, constantly replaying the encounter. While heart had fluttered at every message she had received from Matt - the guy from Tinder, now her heart just weighs heavy in her chest at the recent lack of messages. Her stomach starts to tighten at the thought of the reason for all of this.

Still unsure if she had just fall in love with this sweet boy overnight or if her morning really had been full of strange encounters. Still not wanting to give into a reality full of mythological beings.

Nearly completely lost in her thoughts, she spots the woman she has been craving to talk to all night in the spur of a moment. Taking the last gulp out of her waterglass, she slams it down on the counter, before jumping down the barstool she has been sitting on, casually strolling towards the lady in question.

“Are you a parking ticket? Cause you’ve got fine written all over you, mami.” The brunette flutters her heavy lashes and pokes out her tongue as she silently chuckles along to her own cheesy pickup line.

“It’s nice to see you too, Vanessa,” the blonde monotonously answers without even sparing her with a single look.

“Why do you look like someone kicked your favorite puppy, mami?” Vanessa asks, frown in place, clicking with her tongue once again at Cupid’s depressing mood.

Brooke Lynn doesn’t even spare her an answer this time around, just silently stares in a direction unknown to Vanessa. Cold, stormy eyes focused on caramel locks of an apparently particular interesting club-goer, one that Vanessa couldn’t identify from the distance.

“You really aren’t the life of the party - huh? Well, sweet-cheeks, do you know what I do when I am sad?” Vanessa lets her unfiltered mouth slip, attempting to conceal the hurt Brooke’s sudden cold dementor is causing.

Vanessa only receives the silent treatment.

“Drink away my problems,” she still enthusiastically screams over the loud music, trying to uplift her counterpart’s mood. The brunette is fully aware at her struggle dealing with sad emotions, especially with other’s, and drags Brooke towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila.

Brooke suspiciously eyes the drink in front of her eyes before hesitantly grabbing it after being enthusiastically encouraged by the brunette. As the content of the glass runs down her dry throat, she pinches her eyes together and puts the glass back on the counter with a scrunched up face. A shiver runs down her figure at the sharp taste.

Vanessa barely contains a giggle as she orders another round, enjoying the torture she is putting the woman through. With an amused expression she watches Brooke run her hand over her tongue, trying to get rid of the taste on her taste buds, before she declines the other drink. Vanessa herself not even feeling any harsh liquid anymore on her now numb tongue.

Vanessa downs Brooke’s shot as well and drags the unimpressed woman to the dance floor with a “show me what you’ve got, mami.”

Vanessa twirls, spins, and dips for the third time this evening. Most of her friends have already gone, having an early calltime in the morning. But not Vanessa. She has passed the point of no return - text books and essays long forgotten. Even her phone is abandoned in her purse - hasn’t been touched for the past hour. All that matters is the mysterious woman dancing so close to her, but never close enough to touch. Dark brown eyes taking all of inhumane beauty, watching her icy hair swing around with every movement. The tipsy brunette dances in circles around the blonde goddess, taking her hand in hers during a very brave second, twirling her around the dance floor as well. Even teasing a small smile out of the ice cold beauty, dimples appearing out of nowhere. Two women caught in time, dancing the night away, all responsibilities forgotten. Just the two of them - letting their spirits run free. Their bodies gravitating towards each other, existing just within the world of the other. Two pairs of heavy lidded eyes, watching - staring - taking it all in.

Multiple eyes watch the scene with confusion painted on their faces. Wondering why the strange girl laughs and dances with air.

But as soon as Brooke’s mood has seemingly lifted, it falls again. Her eyes carefully scanning the crowd, searching for something, her mind running to places Vanessa never could imagine. The ice cold woman taking a step back from the young girl, distancing herself from her. Vanessa’s blunt rambling and chessy attempts at making the woman by her side smile again - blatantly ignored. The blonde’s attention not in the present.

With a deep sigh Vanessa lets herself be dragged to a silent corner of the club, facing a previously empty stage. Yet somehow in the past hour the karaoke stage must have been opened, or at least been hijacked by Vanessa’s favorite blonde Russian exchange student.

Beneath the bright yellow lights a very drunk Katya sings her heart out to a very beautiful rendition of Enya’s “Only Time.” It might not be the most appropriate song for the setting, but as if Katya would ever care, and yet she still managed to attract multiple party guests at the front of the stage. Numerous drunk men cheering for her, already chanting for an encore. Her girlfriend proudly smiling from the side of the stage.

“Mami, we’ve got to sing a duet together,” Vanessa blurts out after Katya had left the stage, spinning around to face the blonde beauty by her side again, flashing her a cheshire cat smile. Excitement sparkling in bright does eyes upon her, self-proclaimed, brilliant idea.

“Ohh no, no, it’s already late, I should- I should really go”, Brooke stutterts, finally being snapped out of her dream like state and catapulted back into reality by Vanessa’s request.

“Just one song, bitch, pretty please!” A pouty lip and puppy eyes face the torn blonde, attempting to win her over. Not ready to let her go just yet.

“Well…" the blonde beauty caves in, her ice walls slowly melting.

Like a little child opening her presents on Christmas morning, Vanessa jumps up and down, clapping her hands together while simultaneously squealing. Her locks bounce with each jump, alcohol clouding her better judgement and a lack of sleep can be found behind her eyes as well. But it’s too late to stop her now.

“Gotta show these hoes how a ten does it. Get these cookies!” A hand on her hip, lips pursed and a sharp nod highlighting her determination, letting everyone know she could slay her competition.

With a confident stride she climbs up the stairs towards the stage and demands to sing the next song, Brooke trailing behind her like a little kid following her teacher on a school trip. Her lips pursed into a frown, arms crossed and her foot tapping as she watches Vanessa discuss the song options with Pearl. Heads nearly bumping together over the karaoke facility, olive hands raised high as the discussion grows heated.

As the intro to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” by Elton John starts playing, Vanessa and Brooke take on their respective places in front of the two mic stands, the later not even able to contain an eye roll at the song choice.

But with each passing second and each sung paragraph, the two women enjoy themselves more and more. A serious attempt at singing a duet slowly but surely turns into lots of giggles and intentionally off notes, especially on Brooke’s part. Toothy grins are traded between the two women. The short song turning into a lasting melody.

Even though all Vanessa can focus on is the mysterious immortal by her side, everyone else seems to be watching a drunk girl singing by herself, drifting off into madness.

“A heartbroken Vanjie is really out there singing a duet all by herself - ouch,” Asia slightly whispers into Kameron’s ear, but still somehow loud enough for the other girl stood next to her to hear.

“We should get her down from the stage, before she embaresses herself even further,” Nina chimes in on the conversation. Her ever-so-kind soul looking out for the young girl on stage, not wanting to see her regret this decision in the morning. Monét smiles at the candy floss girl’s heartwarming compassion while barely containing an evil grin at the idea popping up in her head.

“Or - we could just film her,” Monét and Asia simultaneously exclaim, giggling at their own stupidity. Two halves of a whole idiot. Two phones point at a ball of energy, now fully pulling of a full production on stage, within a second.

Kameron doesn’t add a word to the conversation, distracted by an unexpected presence on stage, too stunned to form any proper sentences. Her usually giggly persona suddenly all silent.

Within a heartbeat, a roaring applause signals the end of the performance. A curly beauty silently retreats into the shadows.

Two smiley women basking in the afterglow of their earth shattering performance, climbing down the stairs pulling and goofy faces at each other. Two pairs of eyes gleam brightly, challenging the stars.

The brunette inches closer to the blonde beauty hiding in another corner of the club, whispering seductively with a sly smile on her lips: “We should get outta here.”

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #nina west #monet x change #kameron michaels #asia o'hara #branjie #ninex #asia x kameron #lesbian au #fluff #angst #aromantic #cupid au #amoretto #dreamyunicorngirl #fantasy #submission

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