#I gathered up a very comfy outfit for work!! despite most of my clothes being dirty!!

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Challenge Level: HARD!

gather up an outfit for work that is suitable, pretty, and comfy

most of your clothes are dirty and you do not have much to pick from

Challenge: COMPLETED!

[stylesgalaxy]

mastermind; chapter 17

I can't stay with Julia. Not with how often she looks at me like I might explode or like I'm the bitch that's in love with her boyfriend.

Well, ex-boyfriend.

She heads to the bathroom with a deep heave while I hurry into my room. I pack a duffel bag with all my necessities and clothes for a few days. Julia steps out of the bathroom and I go in to grab some other things.

"Where are you going?" she exclaims, nervously.

"Away." I answer, marching to the door. "I can't stay here, I'm sorry. Not after the things you said and not after the things he said."

I swing the door open and leave before she can respond.

Forty minutes later, I find myself in the very cliché movie scene: outside Zayn's door in the pouring rain.

Zayn swings the door open and looks at me in alarm. I clap a hand to my mouth to conceal a sob as the tears pour out again.

"Aria? Oh my God, what happened?!" he ushers me in and locks the door behind us. I stand in the foyer, dropping my head to my hands and letting whatever's left of my tears to run. "Aria, please tell me what happened," Zayn says softly, rubbing a hand over my shoulder awkwardly.

"I-I told Julia that I love him..."

Zayns eyes widen.

"And she told him, like, five minutes later right in front of me..."

"Oh shit."

"I told him everything and n-now he hates me!"

"He doesn't hate you, Aria, it's not your—"

"He does hate me! He said to leave him alone and never talk to him again!"

"Harry said that?"

"There's something else too..." I explain tiredly. "I guess I should explain everything."

---

Rodger was out tonight, so Zayn ushered me into his living room and I was able to cry freely and explain everything. I told him about the part I played in Julia and Harry's relationship, he did not seem impressed. He was quite disappointed and I don't blame him.

Harry was right. What I did was wrong, I violated his privacy by engaging in conversations I wasn't meant to be in.

But Zayn is a really good guy and an even better friend so he patted my back and soothed me until I calmed down. He told me I'm welcome to stay as long as I was want, but he urges me to mend things with Julia and Harry.

Julia and I will get over this, I know it. No boy has ever successfully torn our friendship apart—and I know Harry isn't just a regular boy, but he's no exception. And I'm positive about this because I could see the sympathy in Julia's eyes when I told her about my feelings. Julia isn't cold-hearted, she's oblivious and inconsiderate most times, but she's not evil.

The hardest thing I was facing now was how I was going to deal with the situation with Harry.

For the next two days, I laid on Zayn's sofa. He offered his bed, but I declined, this was fine. He had a very comfy sofa, one that dipped in a lot when you sat. I moped around and wallowed in self-pity, so pretty much what I had been doing all week.

Rodger was somewhat filled in on my situation. He didn't have any problems with me staying with them because I literally did nothing all day, it was like I wasn't even living.

On the third day, Julia wouldn't stop texting me. She gave me my space, but now she was worried about me and about our friendship. I called her and we cried (a-fucking-gain) about how we love each other too much to let this be the end of our friendship. She forgives me for loving Harry, saying I wasn't committing a crime and that she knows I never tried to do anything to harm her relationship. She went on a whole speech (that I think she prepared beforehand) about how grateful she was to have a friend like me, who despite my strong feelings for her boyfriend, I remained loyal to her and even went as far as making sure her relationship was stable.

I told her I was staying with Zayn, but I didn't give her the address.

After our call, I was able to get up and at least catch up on all my homework. When Zayn left to go to work (which I still hadn't returned to since the semester started, but I really didn't want to think about it) I would use his studio. It made my creativity flow and I had the resources to make spontaneous decisions.

I hadn't been able to sleep well either. It would take me hours to fall asleep and when I did, I would dream about Harry. So I was staying up to work.

On the fourth day, when I was still visibly sad and with nothing left to do (now all caught up on my homework) Zayn was tired of seeing me so depressed so he suggested I go talk to Harry. I strongly disagreed, which only made us argue and made me lock myself in his bathroom in anger. He felt bad and coaxed me out with food.

On Monday, I finally went back to class but I left twenty minutes early because the guy in front of me had curly hair and it was making me sad.

I walked all the way back to Zayn's house, which took so long that I felt really stupid for doing it and didn't tell Zayn. Good thing was, I gave him no reason to suspect that I left early.

By Wednesday, I was two weeks ahead of all my classes. Strange how that works. Lowest point in my life, highest point of my GPA.

Zayn woke up me up bright and early on Wednesday morning, just an hour after I fell asleep.

"Mm, wha'?" I mumble into my pillow.

"You have to get ready, we have class in an hour," Zayn speaks calmly.

"No."

"Aria, come on. You've been doing so well, you went to all your classes this week!"

"I'm not going."

"Please, Aria, come on. Look, I won't make you sit next to him. We can sit far away."

"Zayn, leave me alone," I mutter forcing my eyes shut. I burrow my head deep in the cushions, as if the deeper I go, the faster I'll fall back asleep.

"Okay, I've had enough. You are getting up and getting ready. Wear a nice outfit you have, put on some of your makeup or whatever makes you feel nice, and we can go get Starbucks before class if you want."

At the mention of Starbucks, my heart broke all over again.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Zayn!" I shout at him and he flinches. "I don't want to go to class, I don't want Starbucks, I just want to sleep! I only slept for an hour last night, please just go without me."

When I woke up a few hours later, I felt really bad. Zayn was just trying to help me, and I completely lashed out at him. Deciding I want to be productive today, I ask Rodger what Zayn's favourite meal is.

"Why?" he asks suspiciously.

"So I can put it in the biography I'm writing on him," I deadpan. "Why do you think?"

Instantly, I feel bad about being mean to Rodger too, but I get the feeling he talks about me behind my back.

"I'm sorry, Rodger, I shouldn't have snapped. I haven't been sleeping well and it's making me cranky," I apologize.

"S'alright," he says slowly after a while. "He likes biryani with chicken, but if your going to make it, make sure you buy the correct seasoning and put all of it in. White people like to make their own version of Indian dishes with just salt... in our house, we don't disrespect authentic Indian cuisine."

I roll my eyes and agree. After a quick trip to the nearest grocery store, which was a twenty-minute walk actually, I have everything I need to make the dish. I'm actually really happy Rodger insulted me and told me to season it properly, because I didn't know you could buy the seasoning packs and it made my life so much easier.

By the time Zayn arrives, the biryani is nice and warm in the pot. I start setting up the table and put a plate out for Rodger, too.

"Rodger, come down I'm serving dinner!" I yell upstairs. Zayn peaks his head into the den and his eyes widen. I glance down at the shawarma in his hands and shake my head. "Oh no, you didn't... don't tell me I slaved away all day and you already ate."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! I didn't even eat that much, I'm still really hungry!" Zayn says. I roll my eyes playfully and walk back to the kitchen while he places the half-eaten shawarma on the counter and follows. "What did you make?"

"Biryani with chicken."

"No way! That's my favourite!" Zayn exclaims and helps me serve some on plates.

"I know, I asked Rodger. I felt really bad about yelling at you this morning... it's not like me to be so cranky, I'm so sorry. You're the only one who's there for me and I'm not trying to push you away," I say sincerely. Rodger walks past us to sit at the table, not paying any attention to what's being said.

"It's okay, Aria, I understand," Zayn smiles.

"See, this is why I don't deserve you!" I say starting to tear up again but Zayn chuckles and pulls me in for a hug.

"Stop it with the crying and dramatics," he laughs.

I nod and laugh lightly.

Rodger is quite impressed with my biryani, and so is Zayn. They're surprised I didn't hold back on the seasoning, and that's only because I didn't want to give Rodger any reason to make fun of my cooking. Had he not said anything, I would not have made this biryani so spicy. I ate half of my plate and the entire bowl of yogurt I put out, plus the whole pitcher of water. Every time I sniffed, Zayn and Rodger would snicker.

"Oh yeah, hahaha, Aria can't eat spicy food, this is so funny," I retort sarcastically and roll my eyes. They laugh at me freely before feeling bad and thanking me for the food.

After dinner is done and I tell Rodger I won't wash the dishes because I cooked the food, he gets up to clean them while Zayn and I move to the living room.

Everything was well until Zayn spoke.

"I saw him."

I take my eyes off Rachel and Phoebe's screaming faces, and look at Zayn. "I don't want to know," I say.

"He looked just as miserable as you, Aria," Zayn insists.

"I said I don't want to know."

"Why won't you just talk to him?! You're just going to throw away what you had? Just like that?" Zayn argues.

"I won't talk to him because he told me not to talk to him! He threw away the friendship, not me!"

"So go fight for it back! Don't just sit here and be miserable all day on my couch. This isn't you."

I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts before saying, "Look, if you want me to leave, I will. Don't bring him up and guilt trip me."

I stand to leave but Zayn grabs my hand.

"That's not what I meant, you know that. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want, even Rodger said so!"

"Lies. Rodger thinks I'm annoying," I mutter, scowling.

"Well, yes, but he won't just throw you out. He's actually a big softie. He wants to know you're okay before you leave."

"Well, then: I'm okay. I'll leave." I move to leave again but Zayn pulls me back.

"Leaving to talk to Harry? Sure. Leaving to roam the streets and mope around? No." I glare at him. "Just please consider talking to him. Please? He might have changed his mind."

I decide to humour him and nod. Zayn's smile is so wide that it makes me feel bad, so I end up actually considering it.

---

It's Zayn's fault that I'm freezing my tits off outside Harry's house the next day. He has class soon so he should be leaving his house in a few minutes. I wait outside on his driveway because I'm too embarrassed and ashamed to knock on the door and risk Niall or Louis opening it. I want to talk to Harry first and privately.

I sigh as he takes another ten minutes to leave. I'm sitting on rocks on the side of their driveway when the door opens. I'm on the other side of his Range Rover, so he doesn't see me as walks out and locks the door.

"Harry," I say, standing up. His head whips up to make eye contact with me and my breath is taken away. He looks horrible, worst I've ever seen him. Dark circles around his eyes, his face pale, his curls unkempt. He blinks then walks towards his car with his head down. The closer he gets to me, the more panicked I feel, "I—"

Harry pays no further attention to me. He gets into his car, slams the door and drives off without a word, leaving me alone.

---

"Hey," Zayn greets me, when I get back to his. "So did you see him? How'd it go?"

"Horrible," I deadpan, throwing my purse on my couch and flopping down on it.

"What?"

"I don't know what to do Zayn. He saw me and just got into his car and drove off. He doesn't even drive his car to class!"

"Oh shit, Aria... Okay, how about if—"

"No. I'm sorry, but I'm not taking any advice from you again," I say tiredly.

Louis comes over later. He looks at me carefully as I stare him down from my position on the couch.

"Hey, Aria," he says softly.

"Do you hate me, too? Does Niall?" I can't help but ask. Louis and Niall were Harry's friends first, obviously they would take his side. But they were also my only other friends.

"What? No, of course not!" he says. "You're our friend as much as Harry is."

"No, you guys knew him first. You're closer with him," I argue softly, picking at my split ends.

"Yeah but we still love you," he says casually. A small smile grows on my face and I look at him.

"Did he tell you everything?"

Louis nods.

"I was only trying to make everyone happy."

"Yeah, we know. Have you been here ever since?"

"Yeah."

"Did you go to your classes?"

"Some," I sigh.

"Aren't you worried about falling behind? It's midterms."

"I'm two weeks ahead in all of my classes."

"Oh," his eyes widen.

"Yeah," I chuckle.

"So that's why you look like shit."

"Shut up, I still look better than you," I huff and throw a pillow at his face. Louis laughs, catching it and sits on my couch. I try to kick him away but he sits on my legs and I'm forced to be in their company as him and Zayn play video games.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Louis asks a few hours later, just when I thought I can live my life never talking about it again.

"Yes. And I'm never doing it again."

"Why? What happened?"

"He got in his car and drove off. Didn't even get to say anything." Louis looks at me in pity and I roll my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"You have to try again. Maybe give him some more time."

"No."

"That's all he needs! Just some time. Then try speaking to him again."

---

Obviously, I didn't listen to Louis. It was already humiliating being ignored by Harry the first time, I'm not doing it again.

It's been a whole week since I've lived away from home and to be honest the only reason I finally went back was because I didn't want to wash my clothes at Zayn and Rodger's. I gathered all my shit and tied my messy hair in a bun. Men's shampoo was not for me, and plus I forgot to bring my other hair products.

I wrote a note for Zayn telling him there's leftovers in the fridge and thanking him for being such a kind friend and letting me stay with him, before calling an Uber.

Seeing my own building again was relief like no other. I liked being back in the familiarity of my home. I greet the concierge shyly and wave to our security guard before getting in the elevator.

Julia shouldn't be home right now, so I'm confident no one's inside when I unlock the door.

Boy was I wrong.

"Shit!" Julia screams in panic, naked on top of a guy on the sofa.

"Fuck, I'm sorry!" I yell and shut the door really quickly. There's lots of scrambling as they quickly put their clothes on and whisper-yell. I didn't get to see the guy because his legs were facing me and his face was blocked by Julia, making me wonder who it was.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Do I go back to Zayn's? No, this is my house. And Julia was not supposed to be having sex on the sofa!

I wait for a couple minutes until they get their shit together. I really hope who ever this guy is leaves so that 1. I can be left alone with Julia and 2. so I can see who it was. I'm quite curious—

The door swings open and my heart stops as a scowling Harry steps out, brushing past me without saying anything or even looking at me.

---

The hurt I felt from Harry's cold stare washed off any excitement I had about returning home. This whole thing stung. A lot.

"Aria, I'm so sorry you had to see that... um I know with your feelings for him—" Julia instantly apologizes as I walk in, dumbfounded.

"Don't," I gulp. There's a lump in my throat that won't go away. I struggle to take in my surroundings and remember what I wanted to do. I set my bag down on the small table, unsurely. "So, um, you guys got back together?" I ask in a defeated tone.

As far as I knew, Harry was hurt by both Julia and I. And the part that stung so much was he was willing to come here to be with Julia and have sex with her, but he won't even spare me a glance? Allow me to speak?

"Oh, God no. No no no," she says quickly.

"No?" I ask confused. "Then why were you two..."

"It's complicated... I mean we were both pretty fucked up about the break up and um, he came here one day drunk off his ass... we talked and one thing led to another and next thing I know our clothes are off and we were having sex." I cringe inwardly. "The next morning, he was very firm in saying that it meant nothing," she mutters.

"Were you hurt?"

"Not as much as I thought I would be..." she sighs deeply before saying, "I can't look at him the same way after finding out how much you loved him. The feelings are dissolving and I think it's the same for him."

I nod. I desperately want to ask what they talked about and what he said about me (did he even say anything about me?) but I know it's not my place to.

"I'm sorry you saw that... I wasn't expecting you to come in. It only happened a few times and I really don't want you to think I don't care about your feelings or anything—"

"Then why did you sleep with him?" I deadpan, looking straight in her eyes. Julia falters and I feel guilt course through. "I'm sorry... that's not fair. Um, I'm not mad at you or anything. You're both adults, you can make your own decisions. I guess I'm just a little hurt."

"That's what I didn't want! I'm sorry Aria, please don't feel bad—I wish I never did it now!" Julia cries. "I told myself this was going to be the last time, I swear—"

"It's alright Julia. It's not just you," I start mumbling. "He won't even look at me. I went to see him the other day but he didn't say anything to me. Just got in his car and drove away. And today he just brushed past me like I was no one. It just... hurts you know?" Julia nods in understand. "Knowing that the two people I always put before myself and my own feelings, would treat my like this." Julia freezes and opens her mouth to respond. "Don't, please. It's not that deep, okay. What happened, happened. I'll get over it. I don't want to fight anymore."

She nods.

"I'm sorry," Julia whispers again as I walk into my room. I nod, accepting her apology.

***

Sorry for the late update! Hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought!!!

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[the-second-circle-ffxiv]

Proposition

Asagi looked around in a mess of a room she had just casually walked into through an unlocked door. Somewhere deep down she wished that she, too, could still be that carefree. Silke's small apartment was so full of miscellaneous things, that at the first glance it seemed to be chaotic. However, after watching more closely, despite of the amount of things everything was in surprisingly good order. Opposite the door, on the other side of the living room was obviously her personal fortress: a huge, inviting and soft-looking canopy bed accompanied by a gigantic bookshelf that almost touched the roof. It had been crammed full of books, and even then she hadn't managed to fit them all in there. About half of the tomes were either laying on the floor or had been piled next to the shelf. On the right side of the living room the eye-catcher element was definitely a cluster of a small fireplace and an odd, winged sofa alongside a couple of round armchairs. Asagi was just thinking how her usually somewhat unorganized and clumsy sister had matured so much since starting her mage studies and finally reached some level of elegance. Then her gaze moved into the darkest, farthest corner of the room, where an old cupboard slouched both doors open like a drunkard passed out while still sitting in a chair. Bundles of clothes, cleaning tools and who knows what else were hanging from the drawers crammed so full of stuff they couldn't fully close. Shaking her head, Asagi turned to look on the other, tidier side of the room, where Silke had displayed her greatest treasures. A couple of far eastern drawers were almost bending under the weight of all plush toys and figurines on them. Silke liked to travel, and she had a habit of bringing something cute back home from every place she had visited.

Asagi couldn't help but smile when she noticed a happy looking emerald Carbuncle sitting on a round, red pillow and holding a gold coin almost as big as itself. It was very old, but it still looked almost like new. Back in the days when Asagi and Silke had been kids and lived in Kugane, they had gone to fair with their parents and brother. Some old merchant had noticed Silke's greedy stare and they had told the girl such artifacts brought luck. Asagi wasn't sure did she believe in such or not, but Silke couldn't have cared less. She had thought the creature was pretty colored and cute and that was all that mattered. She decided right then and there she wouldn't leave the fair without it.

However, the money their parents had given for the fair had not been enough for the item. Silke had asked for more without success. A heated debate had followed, which Silke had lost. Gracefully she had dropped on the ground and started screaming like a banshee, attracting too much unwanted attention. Their parents had finally bought the damn thing just to avoid possible Sekiseigumi questions about domestic violence. When Asagi's gaze finally ended up into the last corner of the room, a frustrated exclamation wasn't far. It was Silke's desk. The dummy had piled paperwork on it - judging from the amount since the day she had moved into the apartment - and a candelabrum peeked out from the messy mass. It was purely absurd to keep it in such place, and even more with a shiba inu in the house. Damn creature, Asagi thought in passing, while lifting the candelabrum away from the desk and relocating it on one of the drawers. The little red beast wasn't annoying in the same way most of dogs were, who barked at everything, smelled like animals, shed their fur everywhere and were messy in general. No, Laurence von Salem - though Silke and Lareine called him also Lucy for some reason, had way too much fun with it and Asagi had not the slightest clue why - was like people, except he looked like a dog. Just like a few minutes ago, when Asagi had arrived. Normal dogs would've barked their lungs out, dashed to greet her and dropped all nearby movables with their swooshing tail. But no, Laurence had just lazily gotten up from his spot in the living room next to Silke's bed, slowly padded towards the little hallway like he'd own the place and stared at Asagi for a moment while looking like he had just smelled something bad. Then he had apparently decided Asagi wasn't a threat, since he had silently snorted and continued his way into the kitchen, after which Asagi had heard rippling of water before it had become silent again. He hadn't come back though. It was probably cooler in the kitchen. Bah, enough of recollection, Asagi thought to herself. She took a couple of steps next to the couch where Silke was laying in a half sitting position, facing towards the fireplace and neck bent in such an unnatural way it almost hurt just to look at.

"Hey, sis", Asagi said, poking her sister carefully. "Can I sit down for a while, or are you busy?" Silke flinched and turned to look at Asagi, dazed. Her long, black hair was unkempt and glasses tilted. She was wearing one of her pompous robes, as usual. It was rare to see her in a more casual outfit. The girl just loved robes. "Oh, hi!" Silke exclaimed and glanced around like not being completely sure about her surroundings. "Yeah, by all means", she giggled awkwardly and then added: "I think I just fell asleep." "You should seriously sleep for a change... have you pulled an all-nighter with those books of yours again?" Asagi asked accusingly and took a seat next to Silke, reaching out towards her and gently fixed her glasses. Silke rolled her eyes with dark circles around them. "Not my fault they make books so interesting. And I gotta say I hate schedules. There ain't enough hours in a day for me to do stuff, I swear." She became more serious all of a sudden. "But oh, you got me interested. This must be something very important for you to leave your work and drop by." Her sleepy gaze focused a bit. "Maybe one day you'll find a way to add more hours into your day... as an archmage and all that", Asagi noted smiling, but let her expression quickly fade away. "And well... it's about my work. I do not know who to talk to, but you are all I have so... Silke, what would you say if I told you I have hit a mid-life crisis?" There was a short silence. Silke's eyes widened for a moment while she was staring at Asagi in disbelief. Then she burst out laughing, but soon after noticing Asagi's darkening expression she forced herself to stop and coughed awkwardly. "Eh... what? Why? Wait... Does this have something to do with that new hair color of yours?" It was Asagi's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, go on and laugh, you silly little gremlin", she snapped playfully. "I mean... I have been thinking. What do I have? The bar... yes. But it's all there is. And honestly: the recent accident with the drunkard made me wonder. Is it all even worth it? Day after day I'm stuck inside those red walls. Seeing the same old faces. Hearing the same dry stories time after time. I have started to see myself as I will be when I grow old: a bitter woman, wiping puke off the table."

Silke listened closely while nodding rapidly. "Hm, well... I don't think other occupations are any more exciting", she pondered, rolling her hair around her finger. "Less risky they may be, but... My professors for example. Their job looks exciting from a student’s point of view, but I've thought of what it's like to them. Same old routine day by day, teaching students at days and fixing paperwork at evenings and nights. I think all regular occupations are like that in the end, after the first charm has worn off. You just gotta pick a career of which routines you like the most." Asagi couldn't do anything but to stare at her for a moment. Silke was usually so cheerful, but this was probably the most depressing thing she had ever said. And it made the whole thing even more depressing, that Asagi thought she was right. "At least you have choices", Asagi notified. "You don't have to become a professor. You can use your knowledge in so many ways. Maybe you can become a seer in a royal court. A mercenary... Maybe a researcher of old. Only the sky is the limit with your talent, Silke. Don't even think about locking yourself into some dusty, old office!" While Silke was frowning, Asagi let out a long sigh. "For me, though... I don't want to say this... but I don't know what to do. Time to time I find myself just thinking about burning the whole shit down." Silke tilted her head, frowning even more. She lifted her feet alongside a pair of moogle slippers from the floor and turned around so that she was facing Asagi completely, sitting cross-legged. "Huh? How are those royal seers or mercenaries any different then?" she started to grill. "They have their own routines as well." She rolled her eyes once again. "Personally I don't have a clue what you're talking about. I've always thought your occupation is interesting. It includes more risks than ordinary duties, but that's about the only thing I don't like about it."

Asagi leaned her back onto the sofa's comfy curve while crossing her legs. "Well, at least days would be different. But I guess you are right", she admitted.

If Silke of all people thought her occupation interesting, it couldn't be too bad after all. All those poor souls depended on her. Sure, most of them were drunkards, but despite of some bad choices of life, deep down they were just ordinary folk. One usually had a very good reason to grab a bottle. Asagi couldn't deny her bar was a peerless way to gather information, both for herself and her customers. She also had her doubts of being on the game for so long it might actually be close to impossible to step out from the shadows without dragging them along with her. "And it's bringing food to the table", Asagi added after a short while. "I'm proud of what I've achieved. But you see... I never see you for example. I miss the old days in Kugane. We used to do a lot together. Now it's just... Bah, look at me being all sentimental! I think I'm finally starting to drop the ball for good." "Now that you mention it, I'd like to see you more often, too", Silke noted, smiling. "But I don't think there's another bar in Foundation area like yours. And no, I'm totally not including Forgotten Knight! Imagine all those poor folk who'd have no longer a place to go and have fun in if you quit. But honestly, if you're feeling bored, what is stopping you from changing careers? What would you rather like to do?" "That... is a good question", Asagi pondered. "Anything connected to magic is off limits. My magic is way too unstable as it is. My blade? Years have made me rusty, and I don't want to risk my life again." "Of course your skills will get rusty if you don't do anything with them for a long time", Silke notified. "If you want to live by the sword again, all you need to is to pick it up and start using it. Geez..." Asagi had been thinking about it herself as well, but she had ended up into a conclusion it was too big of a risk and could lead into another mistake way too easily. And perhaps this time she would lose more than just an eye. "Nah", she said and couldn't help but smile. "I want to make sure I stay alive and see you becoming an archmage. And maybe get married. Then I could be the uptight aunt Asagi." "You?" Silke exclaimed, eyes round with horror. "Married?" She burst out laughing uncontrollably. "As if!"

Asagi blinked, her mouth hanging ajar. Before she was able to regain her voice, Silke suddenly stopped laughing and slowly turned to look at her. "Wait... Does this mean you actually have someone you like?!" "No! What?! No!" Asagi cried out. "I was talking about you anyway!" "Oh." "But speaking of which: why do you find me getting married so impossible of an idea?! You are hurting my soul, sister..." Asagi turned away from her dramatically. Silke puckered up her lips, and the tips of her ears started to droop a bit. "Meh... And here I was getting all excited for you." Then she sighed deeply and looked away. "You should know by now. I'm not interested in relationships, even less getting married. It's too much work and takes too much time. I've had my share of dating partners who've been jealous of my studies or my hobbies, or even magic itself! Relationships feel like someone tying a leash around my neck and tugging me all the time, telling me to stop doing what I love the most and give them attention instead. There's no way I could live like that. Ugh...", she rubbed her temples, eyes squeezed shut. "My brain starts to hurt just by thinking about it. Let's not talk about me." Asagi wasn't sure what she should've said. She found it extremely hard to believe there would've been anyone in the whole world fitting to be her own lifemate. She had also noticed she shared her sister's problem: she wanted a partner who wouldn't make her feel like she was trapped. If such a miracle were to happen, she would - by all means - welcome it. But still she thought the mere chance was low in astronomical proportions. Thus she wanted Silke at least to experience it, but so far it seemed she was following in Asagi's footsteps. She couldn't keep anyone for long, and wasn't even sure did she truly want it. Silke wiped the melancholic expression from her face like a pinch of dust from a table, and in an instant it was replaced by her more familiar, impish grin. "As far as I've watched other people's relationships from afar, there seems to be awfully lots of people who're seeking... ya know... the princess type, who they can protect or something like that. You couldn't be a princess even if your life depended on it, no offense!" Silke started to laugh again. Asagi smirked playfully and reached out to pinch Silke's ear. She let out a surprised squeal and yanked her ear away. "Here I was just teasing you, but you are shooting me with actual poisoned arrows!" Asagi proclaimed. "How dare you? I can be a delicate princess if I want to! Anyway, I guess you are right. I will just keep doing what I do. And maybe try working a bit less and seeing you more. I'm... kind of worried about you anyway." "Worried about me? Why?" Silke repeated, frowning slightly. "I haven't even blown anything up lately. Is that what worries you? If that's the case, it's easily fixed." If it had been something so simple, Asagi certainly wouldn't have had any need to talk about it. She had been postponing this discussion for as long as she had been able to, but lately she had started to feel she should've said something much earlier. "You are spending quite a lot of time time with that experiment girl", Asagi finally stated. "You hardly see people, and when you do, it's that... what does she call herself? Lareine? Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you have found a friend. But you know what I mean." Silke tilted her head again. "Experiment girl?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Yes, her name is Lareine. She happens to be the only person who has enough spare time in her hands to see me when I'm able to go out. And what's even more important: she doesn't annoy me, like most of other people." Asagi let out a drawn-out sigh, looking at the flames dancing in the fireplace. "She's not right in the head. She is an outcome of what that man did to a poor woman. I may see him in different light these days, but I'm afraid this Lareine is just pulling you closer to Blacksoul. You will end up being an experiment as she is." Asagi hadn't been completely honest when she had told Varg she didn't care about the rumors about him. In a way it was true - while no one she knew was involved with the man in any way. However, it was completely another matter when Silke of all people had started to spend her time in such questionable company. Silke made a gesture with her hand like shooing away a fly. "Pff, oh please. This is probably the most ridiculous thing I've heard all week. You're being mean now." Silke obviously tried to keep a brave face on, but Asagi still noticed that strange hue in her sister's eyes she always had when someone had been poking her into the wrong place. "Lareine has been through so much shite it's no wonder it has left its mark", Silke started to speak formally like she'd been addressing an audience. "She's one of those few people who actually like to have me around and who doesn't think I'm crazy. Would you like me to rather hang out with my classmates? The normal ones? The ones who're bored during classes, who badmouth professors behind their back, who call me a nerd because I actually like to study..." Silke's voice was dripping with bitterness. She inhaled deeply and continued: "I've always wanted to ask them why do they even bother going to school if they don't want to be there. It's not even a grade school anymore, it's completely optional! No one is forcing them!" She shook her head, trying to regain at least some of her composure. "About Grumpy, I mean, the old man Varg-Varg... you're just being paranoid, dear sis. He may appear intimidating, sure, but in reality he's just an ordinary dude and totally under Lareine's slipper. He's not interested in me in any way. He probably wouldn't even want me visiting there." When Silke finally stopped talking, she was slightly out of breath. Asagi remained silent for a while, studying her. She certainly hadn't wanted to make her this upset. She wasn't sure did Silke know about it, but few months back Asagi had marched to Varg's door and demanded him to leave Silke alone. Back then Asagi had been certain he had lied when he had said he had no clue what she was talking about and told her to put her sister on a leash or something, so that she wouldn't stray into his house anymore. "...I'm sorry, sis. You are right", Asagi admitted finally. "You're a grown up woman. Just promise me to keep your eyes open, okay?" "Don't I always?" Silke asked, glancing at Asagi, sounding a bit tired. "Every time someone has tried something shady with me, they've ended up burning themselves..." Her eyes unfocused for a moment. She was either thinking very rapidly or wasn't thinking at all. Then she turned to look at Asagi again. "Perhaps you should join me next time I go visit them?" Asagi blinked. "J... join you? To Blacksoul Manor?" she broke into a giggle. "Oh, Varg would love that for sure!" She wasn’t certain was the suggestion either genius or plain stupid. If Varg didn't want either of them around, it would've been best to stay away. But Silke and Lareine were best friends, and Asagi had only heard good things about the butler, Arsene, who seemed to be delighted when he had guests to serve. It couldn't be good for Lareine either to spend her days alone in that grim, old estate. If she was important to Silke, and she wanted to keep her close, Asagi would certainly help her with it. "I may consider", Asagi agreed finally. "Maybe it's good time for me to pull my head out of a wine barrel. I guess I have been so drowned into my work I have not even noticed you growing up... You are hardly the same girl who got in trouble on the streets of Kugane. And what am I? Your mother? Bah... I'm not the one to tell you what to do." Silke shrugged and grinned. "I don't want you to worry, and I want to show you there actually is nothing to worry. What would be a better way than facing your doubts head on? Besides, grandpa Arsene is the best cook I've ever met. His skill may even rival our dad's. You haven't truly lived until you've tasted his stuff." "I guess that's an offer I can't refuse", Asagi giggled. "If someone is competing with dad in cooking, I have to see it with my own eyes. Tell me when you are going over, and I shall find some time. But talking about work...", Asagi got up from the couch and ruffled Silke's already messed up hair. "My shift is about to start. I will see you later, okay? Thanks for listening to my ramblings." Silke yawned and stretched her limbs, but didn't get up. "Haa, I’m glad I was able to be of help. I think I'm gonna try and sleep some more. Keep your eyes open at work as well, sis!" "I will." While walking towards the hallway, Asagi glanced over her shoulder and saw a petite, pale hand waving at her from behind the back rest. Smiling, she turned back towards the door, but then she noticed an eerie silhouette of a shiba inu staring at her in the kitchen doorway. The setting sun created long, sharp rays that cut the view like in far eastern paintings. Laurence was standing there, his back against the window, making himself seem like a black figure basking in an explosion of bright, orange light. What a drama queen, Asagi thought to herself, frowning. Laurence strutted closer to her and looked at her accusingly like she'd been a cheap sausage. "Lucyyy~!" Silke yelled from the living room. "C'mere, boy!" In an instant the arrogant expression disappeared from the dog's face and suddenly he was beaming as happily as the sun itself. His tightly curled tail started to wag rapidly but clumsily as he dashed into the living room so eagerly he was about to slip. Silently, Asagi opened the door and stepped outside. Before closing it, she could still hear Silke babbling at the dog in a high-pitched tone: "Whooza good boy? You are and you know it, don’t ya? Yes, yes~" --- With @lareine-kira​ :3c

[lunarhayn]

...IDK what to call this

Ok, so this is my first fic on here. It's not the best, but I really like it and I hope you guys do too. Basically Virgil is having a super bad day which leads to an anxiety attack and, later on, lots of cuddles. TW: Anxiety Attack...I think that's about it Pairings: Mostly LAMP, a little bit of Prinxiety, and some Platonic Moxiety I have no clue how long this is Constructive criticism is appreciated ____ Virgil still wasn't good at opening up. Despite the fact that he was getting closer to the sides and he knew (or at least hoped) that they were finally accepting him, his walls still wouldn't come down. Too many years of being pushed away still weighed him down. Still, when Patton asked him to come down for movie night, he did. When Roman was brainstorming ideas with Thomas, he would do his best not to bring down their ideas. And the occasional times Logan needed help with Thomas's schedule, the anxious side sat with him for most of the day making sure the schedule would work. But today was just one of those days where he didn't even want to leave his room. Thomas has been working on a new video and things had been going wrong left, right, and center and the anxious side was just on the verge of a meltdown. They had been planning for weeks. Weeks!! Everything had been planned down to a T. But then Talyn got sick and had to cancel. Typically, this wouldn't be so bad. But Talyn had been the one doing Thomas's make up in the video and Joan didn't really know how to do it. Then, one of the lights stopped working. Easy fix, right? No. As everyone had been so focused on this new video, no one had really paid attention to the weather. So, the raging storm outside wasn't helping. And to top it all off, the power went out. Thomas and Joan had decided to save the video for another day. So, when the storm let up some, Joan went home. Virgil was too stressed to really do anything at the moment. He knew leaving his room wouldn't help at all either. With his mind being so vulnerable at the moment, really anything could cause an anxiety attack. So, when Patton came up to check up him, Virgil lost it. He jumped at the knock on the door, follwed by Pattons voice, "Hey, kiddo, you doing ok?  None of us have seen you today." "Yeah," Virgil paused, trying to control his shaking voice, "Yeah, Patton, I'm doing fine." There was silence for a moment. "I'm fixing supper, I'll bring you up a plate. I don't think you've eaten much today.“ “Ok.“ Virgil silently swore as his voice cracked and that's when Patton knew something was wrong. Virgils door slowly creaked opened, a stream of light brightening his room. Patton took one look at the anxious side and immediately ran to him. Remembering something Logan had said about not touching a person having an attack, Patton sat down close to Virgil, whose breathing was quickly picking up. Not knowing exactly what to do, the fatherly figure just started to softly talk. He figured the noise might give Virgil something to focus on. Time seemed to pass slowly as Patton did his best to help Virgil with the attack. He must have been gone for a while as soon Roman and Logan were at the door.  Logan saw Virgil first and immediately went to him, telling the others (or, Roman more specifically) to be quiet. "Virgil." He stated calmly, "Virgil, can you hear me?" All he got was a small, shaky nod. "Good. Ok, I need you to name off five things you can see." Virgil shakily lifted his head from where it rested on his knees and blinked slightly. He took a deep breath. "You..." He started, "...Patton and...and Roman." It took a few minutes before he spoke up again, "My...my moon light....and my desk chair." "Good, good. Now 4 things you can hear?" It took longer than it should have, but eventually Virgil managed to name them off. And the cycle continued until Virgil's breathing had evened out for the most part. Patton being Patton finally took the chance and wrapped the younger side up in his arms and just held him. Virgil didn't really know how to respond to this, so he just sat there letting Patton hold him as tears leaked down his cheeks. He did his best to stay quiet, not really wanting the others around. But Patton knew. The dampness on his shoulder from Virgil's tears were also a giveaway. So, Patton gathering the crying side onto his arms and pulled him onto his lap. And Virgil let him. The comfort of another person felt really nice at the moment. After a few minutes, Virgil felt the bed dip and suddenly a new pair of arms were wrapped around his waist. The figure pressed into his back and placed his cheek on Virgil's shoulder. Roman, Virgil thought, feeling the sleeves of his outfit, Roman is holding me. No one but Patti had ever actually hugged him and Virgil wasn't quite sure how to react. Eventually someone else took his hand and just held it. He figured it was Logan, knowing the logical side wasn't too keen on touch. They weren't sure how long they stayed there, letting Virgil silently cry over the day. But soon his tears were gone and he was just left shaking slightly. "Hey, kiddo," Patton started softly, "do you wanna go watch a movie? Get your mind off everything?" Virgil nodded, letting Patton slowly pull away from him. Logan had dropped his hand and was already at the door, "I'm assuming the usual popcorn, chips, and soda?" "Oh! And the cookies Patton made earlier." Virgil felt Romans chest rumble as he spoke. In a weird way, it was comforting knowing he was still there. Patton got up next, "Black Cauldron?" he asked, "And then maybe we can watch Coco and Moana?" "That sounds good." Virgil stated softly, pausing for a moment before saying, "Maybe Thomas can join us? I know today's been really crappy for him too." Pattons face lit up, "That's a great idea kiddo! I'll go ask Thomas, I'm sure he could use some love from himself right now." And with that, Patton was gone. "....was that supposed to be a dad joke?" Roman asked, pulling away from Virgil. "I think so." Roman let out a laugh and Virgil cracked a smile. Roman stood up and reached out his hand for Virgil to grab, "Come along now, Winnie the Blue, it's time for a Disney marathon!" Virgil grabbed Romans hand and let him pull Virgil up. Roman didn't let go, though. They walked out of the dark room hand in hand. At some point while going down the hall one of the other two had changed their clothes and everyone elses. Roman was suddenly in his ruby red and crown covered pajama pants and his comfy white tank top with a crown on it and Virgils skinny jeans had been replaced with his black, fuzzy pants. As the two neared the top of the stairs, they felt the familiar pull of Thomas summoning them. Virgil dropped Romans hand, giving him a small smile as the both appeared in Thomas's living room. There were blankets and pillows everywhere. A table had been set up with snack and Black Cauldron was on the screen, waiting to be played. Patton and Thomas were already curled up on the couch at one end, while Logan was seated on the floor in front of them, using some of the blankets and pillows to sit on and wrap up in. It was also obvious that the other two sides were in their onesies (which non one was surprised about). Patton, seeing them pop up, excitedly patted the open spot next to him. "Come here, my dark, misunderstood son.“ Virgil walked over, careful not to trip on the messy floor, and sat down next the moral side. Patton put an arm him, pulling Virgil close to him. Roman sat down next to the darker side, grabbing the remote and a handful of popcorn before hitting play. And that's how they stayed for the rest of the night. Cuddled up together, watching movies, and pigging out. Virgil, despite still being pretty upset about the day, was very happy with the end of it.

[kittenwritesstuff]

The best best friends

Fandom: The Hobbit Pairings: Fili x reader, Kili x reader Genres: platonic fluff, friendship Words: 1.510 Summary: You are having a bad day, but Fili and Kili are there to cheer you up - requested by @princess-of-erebor1992

You adjust a basket on your forearm; it’s not very heavy but the butter cookies keep moving to the sides, despite being put on a plate and wrapped in a cloth. You also packed a half of apple pie, knowing very well that your best friends adore it.

It’s been a tradition for the three of you to visit each other every week, whether it be you coming to them, or they to you. You would always prepare a sweet treat while the boys usually cooked dinner from the fresh meat Kili hunted.

However, this time you wish that boys told you that they had other tasks at hand, too busy to see you that day. It surely hasn’t been your week, you feel as if the universe has plotted against you and make it impossible for you to get anything done those past days.

You mood is bad, to say the least. The only thing you want to do is to crawl under a few blankets and just nap the day away, ignoring the outside world and its callings. It can do without you for a day or two and maybe when the new week starts, the tables will turn and you will finally do better.

Yet, you are more than positive that hadn’t you appear, the boys would come and do everything that was in their might to cheer you up. And you’re not convinced that this is what you need.

You heave out a sigh when you arrive at their house’s door, sporting your face into what you hope is a most joyous expression. They sure were looking forward to see, you’d hate yourself to ruin it for them.

After knocking on the door, you wait hardly a minute before a wide grinning Kili swings it open and immediately pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! I’ve missed you so much!”

“Kili, we saw each other last weekend. And briefly at the market two days ago, remember?”

“Yes, but I didn’t get to hug you so that doesn’t count.”

“Alright, alright, you big puppy,” you rub his back and Kili hums contently before releasing you and reaching to take the basket.

“Do I smell an apple pie?” he asks excitedly and squeal when you nod, rushing to the kitchen.

“Fee! Y/N made an apple pie for us!”

A merry laughter rings through the air as you follow Kili and, as per usual, lean against the work top to watch what Fili is cooking.

The blond-haired dwarf leans in and places a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Hello there, my dear friend.”

“Our dear friend,” Kili chimes in with a childish jealousy hinted in his voice while unpacking the basket and Fili rolls his eyes.

“How have you been?”

“Well. Busy but I am not complaining.”

“A lot of dwarrowdams require brand new gowns, eh?”

“Yes,” you pant out, “and in pretty unique styling. And bright fabrics which I don’t have that much, so I had to order them and wait until they arrive.”

“But you managed?”

“Hardly,” you admit bitterly, a grimace appearing on your face briefly before you muster a smile. Fili’s brows knit over his nose but he doesn’t say a thing, turning his attention to the meal.

You sniff it and a content hum leaves your mouth.

“A rabbit?”

“Kili got lucky lately,” Fili states with slight humor and over his shoulder you notice Kili sticking out his tongue at his older brother.

“Kili, get the plates, the stew is ready,” Fili orders and in a matter of couple of minutes, you are all sat at the table, the boys greedily devouring the meal and you.. you ate a bit but your appetite is gone just as your good mood.

You can feel Fili’s heedful gaze focused on you and it’s more than clear that he noticed that something was wrong. Kili on the other hand is completely oblivious, his mouth never really closes as he rambles on about this and that around mouthfuls of food.

You try to add a comment or two, ask a question every now and then but you’re not really involved in the conversation. And what’s even worse you start to think that you are disappointing your friends.

When boys are done with food, Fili quickly gathers the plates, not uttering a word about your barely touched meal. He asks Kili to help him in the kitchen and for a moment, they leave you to your thoughts.

“Kee, there’s something bothering her,” Fili whispers confidentially to his brother while pouring some water to wash the dishes.

“Y/N? You sure? She was smiling when she came here.”

“And have you even heard her openly complaining about something?”

“Uhm, no..? She never does, you’re right. Fili, we have to do something. She can’t be sad, I don’t like when she’s sad.”

“Me neither.”

“Let’s take her for a walk. The forest is near, Y/N likes the forest, aye?”

“Aye. We’ll tell her we ate too much and we need to walk it out, alright?”

Kili nods readily and quickly steps back to the living room. Fili hears his brother’s cheerful voice and yours approval of a walk and so once Fili is done washing up, the three of you head to the woods, exiting through the back door.

You remain silent for most of the time, Fili and Kili however can’t stay quiet for too long and so you’ve heard about the most recent wager with Dwalin, the fact that Kili beat Thorin at the last sparring and that Fili caught an eye of one of the older dwarrowdam who wished to pair him with her daughter.

Inevitably, the conversation turns onto you and you gulp, not really feeling like sharing about your awful week.

Fili wraps an arm around your shoulder reassuringly.

“Y/N, we don’t want to pester you, but it’s clear to see that something’s wrong. Maybe we could help?”

“Can you sew, Fili?” you ask quietly, a distraught expression appearing on your face and Kili reaches for your hand to squeeze it.

“We can’t but our mama can. And I’m sure she’ll be happy to help, right Fili?”

“Of course! Don’t worry, Y/N!”

“It’s just too much for only my two hands,” you whine, the tears that you managed to hold at bay now streaming down your face. “And none of my customers understand that I sometimes need a break, I can’t work all the time. One of them actually asked if I would sew her dress during the night because she needed it right then! I love my job, but during last week I started to hate it.”

“You’re overworked, darling.”

“Does it give you sads?” Kili inquires softly and his adorably worried expression makes you smile through the tears.

“A little bit of them, I’m afraid.”

“I know what will cheer you up. Remember that funny attire you made for me for last festive?” Kili’s face lit up with excitement and you frown slightly not knowing where it leads.

“Yes, I do.”

“We come back home, I will put it on and dance and sing for you!” he announces proudly, puffing out his chest and Fili shakes his head, while wiping the wetness off your cheeks.

“Sometimes I can’t believe that he’s my brother.”

“Sometimes you’re very boring, Fili.”

“Kee, go home and change into that stupid outfit.”

“On my way!” Kili darts to the house and you look at Fili with disbelief.

“You are going to let him make a fool out of himself?”

“As if it was the first time, Y/N. Besides, will it make you smile?”

“I do believe so.”

“Then it’s worth it. Now, because you are the most talented seamstress I have ever known, with magical hands and beautiful smile, I am going to carry you back!” and without waiting for your possible protest, Fili effortlessly scoops you up and starts walking.

“You two are unbelievable.”

“Y/N, how long have you known us?”

“Way too long, Fee.”

“And you’re still surprised we’re ready to act like idiots to lift your spirits?”

“Well, no, I kind of… I should’ve expected it.”

“You sure should have. Now, let’s get you comfy before the great performed comes in with his show,” Fili jests and kicks the door open, putting you down on a couch and taking a seat next to you. You readily rest your back against his side and when Kili hops in, you let out a shocked yelp.

“There’s an inn…!” he starts and jumps onto the table and you can’t do anything else but laugh. He looks like a fool, indeed, but he seems to be content, even more so when you start crying from laughter.

The bad mood quickly get replaced with a better one and once Kili is over and you eagerly clapped for him you jump onto your feet and bring the pie, thanking boys with a loud ‘mwah’ to their both cheeks.

Truly, you are blessed to have such wonderful friends.    

[meditatemoremedicateless]

Life in Snippets: An Adventure

Summary: Max and Victoria take a daytrip down to Portland to buy Max new clothes (Courtney wasn’t so happy with the outfit Max wore to her first Vortex Club function). After a surprisingly romantic time at the mall, they have ice cream on a hill at Council Crest Park. Things will never be the same between them.

Words: 6,083

Major Tags: Chasefield, Marshfield, Fluff, trans!Victoria, nb!Max

Tagged: @mute-frisk​ @red-zora​ @melonishus​ @priestessamy​ (I think you’ll like this story, Amy, it’s very gay).

Read on AO3 or ff.net

The Page Before: “Friends?”

September 7, 11:20am

Victoria was almost done putting on her face by the time she heard the knock on her door. That must be her.

"Come in, Max," she called, not looking away from the mirror she used on her desk.

The door opened, and there was a bit of hesitation before it closed. Then, "Hey Victoria."

Sure, Victoria couldn't see her, but she knew exactly what Max would be wearing. A t-shirt or tank top along with that infernal sweat shirt, despite the fact that it had been in the high seventies for the entire month. Max never wore anything different, like Taylor before she had discovered sundresses went with jackets. Luckily, Victoria had prepared for this inevitability.

"There's clothes on the bed for you. You and Courtney are the same size, I'm pretty sure, so everything should fit you fine. I'll do your makeup in a sec."

There was no shuffling to get dressed behind her, so Victoria figured Max must be confused. Then Max said, "Uhh? I mean, aren't we going to buy clothes? Why would I need nice clothes or makeup to buy nice clothes and makeup?"

Victoria sighed, setting down her brush and turning in her chair. Of course, Max was dressed precisely as Victoria had imagined, though she didn't think she'd seen the creepy Silence of the Lambs t-shirt before. Gross. Max absolutely could not be left to her own devices.

"Because, Max, we have to see if the nice clothes will look nice on you. That means you should already be wearing something nice so we can see if it'll match. Of course, these aren't your clothes, but they'll at least give us some ideas as we go along. As for the makeup, I want to know how you'll look in total when we go out. And I get that you don't really wear makeup, fine, but if you're going to start going to parties and meeting famous photographers and talking to nice galleries, you're going to have to look more . . . put together."

Max pouted, shoulders sagging as if she was planning on dragging her hands over the ground all day. She said, "I mean, it seems a little misogynist if people are only going to take me seriously when I look nice."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Of course it is, Max. The world is a sexist place, doubly so in industries about appearances. We're not about to change that when nobody even knows our names."

Max crossed her arms over her chest, but gave no protest. "Fine," she responded, "I'll wear Courtney's clothes."

"Thank you Victoria," Victoria chimed as she turned back around to face the mirror.

"'Thank you Victoria,'" Max repeated, and then the shuffling of clothes being pulled off and replaced began.

Once Max had apparently replaced her shirt, Max started to talk over the sound of her zipper. "So, how'd you get so good at all this? Looking good, I mean. I never really got how girls just seemed to pick it up."

Victoria was satisfied with her face, so she moved on to her eyes. "Youtube, mostly, and my mom. I can't really say I had a choice."

Max was done, but there was still a lot of jangling. Moving change between pants, maybe? "What do you mean?"

Hmm, that's right. Max really might not know. She doesn't have much reason to. "Well, you see, my doctor was a real bitch. Back when I was fifteen, and I was looking to get hormones, my doctor refused to prescribe them until I had 'lived experience' as a woman. And, in his eyes, I guess that meant having long hair, wearing skirts every day, and learning to contour, because that's what it took. I had no fucking clue there were even standards of care at the time. I thought that was procedure."

Max was done changing, so she sat down on the bed next to Victoria's desk. "Wow . . . that's some bullshit," she said.

"Don't I know it." Victoria smirked, swiveling her chair to face Max with one eye mostly done, so the left side of her face looked much heavier. "But hey, don't I make such a pretty girl now?"

Victoria swiveled back to her mirror, expecting no response. However, she could see Max nodding out of the corner of her eye. Max said aloud, though so quietly Victoria wasn't sure she knew she was speaking, "You really do."

Victoria refrained from talking further, or looking Max in the eye for a minute until she was done. Once her composure returned, though, she turned towards Max again. "Come on, I'll do you and then we'll go."

"I still don't see why we have to go all the way to Portland," Max whined from the passenger's seat.

They were just passing through Tillamook, the most depressing county seat imaginable, and Victoria was taking the time to enjoy the low speed limit by leaning into the wind out of her window.

Victoria glanced at Max, unable to comprehend literally a single idea that came out of Max's mouth. "Are you serious right now? You spent what, a quarter of your life in Seattle before moving back to this hick ass county and you don't see why we'd go to a city to go shopping?"

Max shrugged. "There are boutiques in the county with nice clothes."

It was kind of dangerous to emote too much while driving, so Victoria settled for a "Uuuuugggghhhhh," followed up with a, "No, they have hand-stitched sundresses made by old grandmas and secondhand Urban Outfitter designs with Navajo patterns on them. God, Max, did you even leave your house while you were in Washington?"

Now Max looked annoyed. "Yes, Victoria. I was just never very interested in vanity."

Victoria grinned, putting on a more nasally voice, "'I'm not like other girls.'"

"Got that right," Max laughed, the annoyance disappearing from her face as fast as it had appeared.

"Well," Victoria said, "maybe you should have. Vanity suits you."

Max was still smiling, though an unfamiliar look crept onto her face. She was hard to read, given how little she ever animated. "You think so?" she asked.

"Would I be buying you clothes if I didn't?"

Max sunk back into her seat, elbow up on the window sill, though hers wasn't rolled down all the way. She looked cocky. It was a good look on her, just like Courtney's clothes were. Max could be cute. It was too bad she didn't seem to know that.

September 7, 2:52pm

It had been like an hour. It turned out Max had bigger commitment issues with clothes than Courtney's dad had to her mom.

"Yes! Okay, yes, it's cute. God, okay, Max, it's gorgeous, just please, please decide on something to buy."

Max had eschewed everything too feminine once they'd arrived at Pioneer Place and started going through the clothing stores. Victoria had never really been interested in men's fashion, beyond the extent she'd had to wear a suit on occasion after turning twelve or so for gallery showings and things like that. It was hard trying to mash up her stylistic preferences along with Max's absolute assertion that her pants be from the men's section, because 'they're so comfy, and the pockets are endless!' They'd spent the better part of the hour switching between clingy, arms-length shirts and tops, ignoring Max's interest in a leather jacket. Nobody wore a fucking leather jacket in Arcadia Bay or at art events and it would just look weird.

Max's head cocked to the side curiously. She didn't seem frustrated, which was how she had responded the past six times or so Victoria had announced that an outfit was adequate. "Do you really think it's gorgeous?" she asked.

Victoria sighed, slumping back against the changing room hall's wall. Max was trying on a striped, slightly see-through shirt very similar to Courtney's preferred casual look, though she'd paired it with a cardigan with thick, contrasting lines around the edges. Max looked pretty, very pretty, but like everything else, she was concerned that it was too girlish. Victoria put her hand to her temple where a headache was rapidly coming on. "Yes, Max, I do. You look good in everything - you're skinny and small, so everything fits you, you look a little professional but not so much that you're overdoing it, the cardigan even matches your lipstick, and while you may have no butt, you're wearing boy jeans, so it's not like anyone would notice if you did."

Max's mouth pinched into a point. It looked a little silly with how her lipstick was smeared (she touched her face constantly), but Victoria could tell she was mulling something over. She turned back around to her stall, looking herself over again.

"Are you sure I'm pretty enough? Like this works?"

Victoria had never seen Max like this. It was no wonder that she avoided vanity - it seemed to make her distressed very easily.

Victoria took a few steps forward so Max could see her face in the mirror. "Of course you're pretty, Max. You were pretty the whole time. I think the thing that's bothering you is that you don't want to be pretty."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, clearly confused.

Victoria exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. She pinched her own sweater, trying to make an example. "Look," she said, "beauty is all about gender conformity, right? People find women beautiful when they highlight everything about them that is meant to mark them as women. The beauty is in the binary, and you hate that."

Max turned around slowly. As Max looked up at her, Victoria became keenly aware of the short distance between them. Max was so pretty. But was it wrong of Victoria to try and make her be? Even if, from every angle she looked at it, she was looking out for Max?

"But don't you hate that?" Max asked. She didn't seem upset, like Victoria had expected. She seemed . . . gentle. Hesitant. Meek, even, like an animal trying to guess whether Victoria were friendly or not.

Victoria swallowed, then nodded. "I mean, of course I do, Max. But I also love being beautiful, and I love people knowing that I'm beautiful. Wanting it to be some other way doesn't make it so."

Max's eyebrows furrowed as she got lost in thought, staring right past Victoria. A woman pushed past them with a huge handful of items, entering the stall at the end. After a pause, Victoria laid a hand on Max's shoulder to get her attention. When Max looked back up, remembering that she was there, Victoria said quietly, "You know what I did almost as soon as I could walk freely after my bottom surgery? When I didn't need any more approval from any more doctors and any more therapists to look like myself?"

Max shook her head.

Victoria reached up, running her fingers through her cropped hair. "I cut off all my hair. I had grown it out for four years. I styled it almost every day. And as soon as I could, I chopped it all off and bleached it." Victoria paused for a second, then continued, "I always hated having long hair."

Max raised her hand slowly, hesitantly, towards Victoria's hair. She paused partway, as if asking for approval, and Victoria nodded.

As she ran her hand through Victoria's hair, she whispered, "That's too bad. I think I would like your hair long . . . it's so beautiful." Sensing Victoria's discomfort, perhaps, Max continued, "But that's not for me to decide."

Victoria wanted to kiss Max, she knew that much. She couldn't tell if it was because of how delicate Max's touch was, or the way she was looking into her eyes, or that Victoria had revealed something personal, or just that they were so close. Victoria had this impulse sometimes, of course, but she'd never known how to act on it. The only girl she had ever kissed . . . she had seen it in her eyes, Victoria was sure. She couldn't imagine any other reason why else she would have kissed her.

"Is it okay if I pick out another outfit for you?" Max asked, dropping her hand from Victoria's hair.

Victoria smiled. It helped diffuse that knot inside her, the one that pulled tighter every time something like this happened. "Of course." Beat. "No promises I'll buy it, though."

Max grinned, and that broke the tension, finally. "That's fair," she replied.

They spent the next twenty minutes or so flitting all over the women's section, although that composed about half of the entire floor they were on, with Max only stopping long enough at a rack to hold something over Victoria's body for a second. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for - whatever it was, it was red. Red on black? Hmm, no, it looked like Max gave up on that idea rather fast. But after twenty minutes of this mad dash, Max was only holding three additional pieces of clothing from before - a red dress, white lace stockings, and red heels maybe three inches tall.

"Are you - are you seriously going to make me wear heels?" Victoria asked, once Max actually took the box with them. "I'll be a giant."

Max had already starting walking out of the shoe section, but she paused just long enough to look over her shoulder and say almost snidely, "Well, yeah, but a fucking hot one." And then she just kept walking, heels in hand.

Well, all right then, Victoria thought, lagging behind for a moment before jogging to catch up.

"Wait, where are we going now?" Victoria asked. They were headed to a part of the store they hadn't come to at all in the past hour and a half.

"To the part of the men's section where they have suits," Max replied.

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks - it was a pace or two before Max followed suit, turning back towards Victoria.

"Max," Victoria said cautiously, "I haven't worn any men's clothing since I was fourteen."

Max nodded in reply. "Yeah. And I haven't worn a dress since I was thirteen. But you dressed me up like a girl, and now I'm going to dress you a little more nonbinary."

"But I don't know if I'd ever wear something like that," Victoria protested.

"Fair, fair," Max said, taking a step back towards Victoria. "But you'd look killer in a suit."

And she did. The suit was red like her dress and her heels, which was a little too much for Victoria, but she couldn't pretend that she didn't look good. It was bright, and in your face, and it made her butt look good, and it was something she would absolutely never wear, and it made her look huge, and it also made her look hot. Very hot. Even Max's face told her that much.

"I . . . I don't know," Victoria said. It wasn't a custom suit like she would have wanted were she to buy one, and a good three hundred dollars cheaper than any suit she'd ever worn before. Moreover, it was a goddamn suit, and she couldn't think of a place she'd go where she'd be caught dead in it.

Max answered, "Oh, you know. You know."

Victoria's voice rose in pitch as she got more distressed, "I know it looks good, I do, but I feel like this suit is walking imposter's syndrome and I'm so huge with this and the heels."

Max's voice was softer when she replied. "Is it too much?" she asked. "We can stop. You don't have to buy it. I think I just . . . wanted to make something beautiful I wasn't so scared of."

Victoria turned back towards her changing room mirror, taking a step closer to it. She fluffed up her hair. She pulled her jacket taut. She turned to one side, and then the other. Then she just hummed quietly to herself. "I guess I could have it tailored," she said, thinking aloud.

In the mirror, Max's face brightened. "Really? You'll buy it?"

Victoria nodded, exhaling loudly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. It's only fair, right? Well, in the kind of fair where I have fuck-tons of money for clothes, but yeah."

Max grinned as Victoria turned back around. "Now let me get changed," Victoria said, Max stepping back as she closed the door.

By the time she'd taken the suit jacket off and stepped out of her heels, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah Max?"

"Victoria . . . do you like me?"

The knot in Victoria's chest returned suddenly, the rope of nervousness brushing over her neck in warning. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, are you attracted to me?"

Tighter. "What . . . what's bringing this on?"

"I'm very attracted to you. I mean, I haven't been doodling our names in little hearts in my notebook but I . . . like you."

Tighter. "Well I . . ." tighter. "I like you too, Max. You kind of fascinate me."

There was a little chuckle from outside, and then Max responded, "I'm glad."

There was a pause, and then Max's voice appeared again, "Victoria. Would you like to have sex with me?"

Victoria thought she might choke. "Uhhh," Victoria mumbled, then, "like, right now?"

Max only said, "Yeah."

Oh god. Oh my fucking god. She wants to have sex in the changing room. Do I want to have sex with her? Okay, okay, fine, I'm a little curious, but here? Seriously? Okay, wait, maybe that's fine. I've seen like two people come in this whole time, and I can totally masturbate quietly, at least. Am I seriously going to fuck Max in a changing room? What if she's joking? What if I say yes and she's actually joking? Will she make fun of me? But what if I take it as a joke and she's not joking?

"You still there?" Max asked.

"Uhhhhh yeah. Hold on."

After a second longer of hesitation, Victoria unlatched the door and pulled it open. Max stood there, no different from before, in her freaky t-shirt and faded jeans. This was nothing like the first time. This wasn't a seduction. This was . . . curiosity. For both of them.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked. It was soft, forceless, like when she'd reminded Victoria they didn't have to buy the suit. It was different. This was definitely different.

Victoria nodded, and Max stepped forward, standing on her toes as she held Victoria's face and kissed her. The first kiss was soft, just warm and gentle and hesitant. They barely knew each other. Their bodies weren't familiar with each other. That was only to be expected. But the second kiss was hard, and Victoria inhaled sharply in surprise. By the time it was over, Victoria was panting, and she could taste lipstick.

"Oh."

Max stepped in as Victoria took a step back, and the door was latched behind them a second later. Then Victoria was up against the mirror, the glass cool against her legs and neck while Max was very, very warm. Why wouldn't she be? She was always wearing that damn sweat shirt. Oh, nevermind, that was the first thing to go.

As Max's kisses started anew on Victoria's neck, she blurted out, "I've wanted you this whole time." It almost sounded like a whine. Victoria wasn't even sure why she said it.

Max pulled back, blinking a few times in rapid succession. Then she said, "Me too."

Victoria hadn't taken off any of her clothes (she didn't even know if she was going to), but she felt naked, exposed when the truth was out there instead of in her hand. That was how the knot stayed so tight, but it was also what kept her from unraveling. Being in total control of her feelings was her way of being in total control of herself.

Max made a twirling motion with her finger, and then said, "Turn around."

Victoria obeyed, turning until Max's hand fell on her hip, stopping her. The zipper on the back of Victoria's dress started coming undone, and after it, a trail of kisses down Victoria's spine. No, this was nothing like the first time. That had been so . . . sloppy, so careless. Max kissed every notch on Victoria's spine, and nothing felt like the first time.

Victoria's dress was on the floor, and Max's kisses finally ended. There must be pink spots all over Victoria's skin. They really should have used lipstick that didn't come off so easy.

"Why don't you sit down?" Max whispered. "It'll be easier."

Victoria complied. She was nervous. Although this was what she wanted, there was still that little voice telling her that something could go wrong, that Max wouldn't like her, that there would be regrets. As Max's fingers hooked into the band of her underwear, Victoria caught her hands, halting everything for a second. Max looked up at her, unsure of whether or not that was a sign to stop.

"Let me . . . let me do it," Victoria said, and Max dropped her hands as Victoria slid her underwear onto the floor. Victoria swallowed, and said, "Kiss me."

Confusion - finally something! - emerged on Max's face. "Where?" she asked.

Victoria covered her mouth as she giggled, then said, "My mouth, you ass."

Max stood up from her crouch, bracing herself on the bench as she leaned over. "Well, hey, it was a little unclear, okay?"

"Okay," Victoria said, knotting her fingers in Max's hair as they kissed.

Then the kiss broke from their lips, and down Max went her neck, her chest, her stomach, her navel, her-

"You're going to get your lipstick everywhere," Victoria wined. It was already smeared all over Max's face.

Max only smiled, lowering face so that Victoria couldn't see her mouth anymore. "I don't give a fuck about my lipstick," she said, and then Victoria gasped.

September 7, 4:16pm

Max seemed to take the 'eating' part of 'eating ice cream' very seriously. Victoria was pretty sure she'd never seen someone older than six actually try and bite ice cream, and here was Max doing it in rapid succession.

"Oh my God," Victoria exclaimed, "doesn't that hurt your teeth?"

Max licked her lips and then responded, "Why would it hurt my teeth?"

"Because it's cold."

"Why would something being cold hurt my teeth?"

Victoria gave her the most neutral stare she could muster. "Because that's how it works."

Max shrugged, returning to her sugar cone. "Not for me."

They were sitting off the trail somewhere at Council Crest park, whose reviews included several recommendations to make out on the hills. Victoria had no idea if that's what they were here to do, really, but none of the other parks had that even suggested in their reviews. Plus, it had a fantastic view of the city, and that was the most important thing. The view always reminded Victoria of the Japanese gardens - it was too bad they didn't have time to visit on their day trip.

"So," said Max, "if I join the Vortex club after this, does that technically count as nepotism?"

God, Max was a messy eater, and it was distracting. She had ice cream on her cheek in two places - who does that at age eighteen? "You've got a little something, Max, here," Victoria said, swirling a finger on her own cheek.

"Huh? Oh, thanks."

"And as for your question - the Vortex Club doesn't pride itself on its democratic merits. It's more about rising to the nobility, you know, feudalism style."

Max's eyes popped way open sarcastically as she kept eating. "Oh, wow, that sounds totally awesome. Feudalism. Love that."

Victoria shrugged. "It is what it is?"

Max laughed at that and said, "Oh, of course, as long as you're on top 'it is what it is.'"

Victoria stuck her spoon in her mouth for a second, letting the ice cream melt in her mouth for a second. Then she replied, "Yep. And that's how you'll think when you're on top, too."

Max glanced at Victoria side-eye, a smirk on her face for a silent second. Then she shrugged. "Nah. Can't say I'm into that. That's how you get stuff like capitalism, art snobbery, and . . . gender." Max shivered at that last word.

Victoria accepted that in stride. "Those are like my favorite things, Max. I love being an art snob. I was born - no, made to be an art snob."

"You're going to be great at it," Max said, nodding.

"Thanks, jerk," Victoria said, pushing Max's shoulder so she toppled over. Luckily, the ice cream stayed on its cone.

Once Max sat herself back up, she said, "See? See the violence inherent in the system? The oppression? Workers of the world unite, we-"

Victoria reached out again, but this time she grabbed Max's jacket. "Please shut up," she interrupted, and scooted closer to Max to kiss her. It was cold, and public, and just another thing she had never done, and it felt good.

They were both quiet after the kiss, returning to their ice cream. Well, in Max's case, finish chewing the cone, but that technically counted.

When she finished it, though, and there was nothing left to distract her, Max asked, "So, is that it? Are we friends who kiss sometimes now?"

Victoria shrugged. "I'm not the one who decided to toss a casual friendship aside to fuck in a changing room - I feel like you can answer that question better than I can."

Max laid back on the grass. It was shady where they sat, but Victoria could already tell Max was getting a sunburn. She was one of those people with pale skin who just got murdered by the sun, it seemed. Maybe that was why she kept the sweatshirt on all the time. "Hmm," Max hummed. "When I got accepted to Blackwell, I knew I'd only be coming back for a year. After that, it was college and a career, places where my decisions might matter, but here? The worst that could happen is I feel awkward around someone for a year, and then I'd never see them again. So I decided I wanted to be a slut while I still could."

Victoria nearly spit out her ice cream as she started laughing. Lucky that there wasn't enough for big bites left in the cup, perhaps. Max? Max wanted to be a slut? But she was so . . . well, not what Victoria pictured when she pictured a slut.

As Victoria settled down, she asked, "So what? This was your first pit stop on your adventure to be a slut?"

Now that the humor was starting to wear off, Victoria wasn't sure how she felt about that. It made her feel . . . cheap. It was a familiar feeling, and precisely the one Victoria had been hoping to avoid when she'd agreed to it. Then again, what else was she expecting of Max, exactly? What else did she even want out of her?

"I don't know," Max said after a short pause. "I don't think that's it. I wasn't kidding when I said I liked you. But I also . . . want to be kind of reckless, you know? And I'm not sure if you noticed but our classmates are kind of hot."

Victoria hadn't noticed that, actually. Every beautiful person in a place like Arcadia Bay was rare, and their beauty and rarity made them dangerous in a place like this. It was always clear that they didn't belong - to themselves, and to the people around them.

Still, Victoria was getting the impression she knew Max even less than she had thought. "I get that you want to be reckless and all, and that this place is a dumpster you can just as well set fire to as you leave, but your actions still have consequences, Max. I don't mean to sound like an abstinence-only sex educator just . . . I don't know. Things can get pretty fucked up in a year, you know?"

Max laughed, turning to look up straight at Victoria. Even back in her old clothes, Max looked beautiful under the dappled sunlight. Victoria hadn't seen her eyes in the light before, really, but they were . . . good. "Actually, you sound more like Kate Marsh."

Victoria grimaced. That was even worse. "God, fine, I take it back. Fuck everybody, no regrets."

Max's chuckle continued, but she quieted down faster this time. "That's not an insult, you know. I like her."

Seriously? How are Max and I even friends, I swear to God. "Really? You don't find her, you know, irritating? Stuck up? Bitchy?"

"Nah," Max said, dismissing Victoria off-hand. "She seems sweet. Genuine. Really smart. And a little gay, question mark?"

What. "What? What makes you say that?"

"She kind of asked me out on a date, maybe." Max's face pinched. "I'm not sure, but if she weren't Christian I definitely would think it was a date."

Well, that's unexpected. Victoria wasn't sure if that made her like Kate more or less. There was always a little bit of distrust she held for queer Christians, though she hadn't examined it very deeply. If she actually took the time to ask herself, a part of her knew it was how invalid her anger felt in the face of faith, but she carefully did not ask herself.

A question appeared in Victoria's mind. She knew she shouldn't ask it - it would make her seem attached in a way she most certainly did not want to. It came out anyway. "So, this maybe date. What is it?"

Max looked up at the branches of the tree instead of at Victoria's face. "Kate's taking me to a coffee shop downtown tomorrow. She wants to study together, but it's for a class we haven't had any graded assignments in yet, and I clearly don't know what's going on. So I think she's just taking me out for coffee or tea because . . . gay?"

There was a short pause in which Victoria didn't know what to say. Luckily, Max was quick to fill in the gap in conversation. "What's your deal with her, anyway? It's like you disliked her on sight."

That wasn't true. Victoria had at first decided she simply didn't care one way or another about one of the new girls of photography. It wasn't until the end of class the first day that Victoria had settled on disliking her, and the reason was painfully obvious and obviously petty. Kate had taken Mr. Jefferson's TA role. Moreover, she had acted like she didn't even want, like she was doing it just to help out. No one was altruistic without motivation, especially when it came to the rich and famous. Victoria hated people who pretended to be better than they were.

"I guess . . ." Victoria started, but she had no ending for that sentence. What could she even say without sounding childish? "Everything she says seems too good. Like, practiced, 'please notice what a pure flower I am.' Real people aren't like that. They fuck up and have shitty ideas."

"Hmm," Max hummed. Then, she rolled on her side, forcing Victoria to turn a little to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is that you think she's perfect, and that pisses you off."

"Ew, no. Fuck off." Max was starting to get on her nerves a little, prying a little too close. This was one of the main reasons why Taylor and Courtney were so easy to spend time with - they didn't ask questions they didn't need the answers to. Most of the time, Nathan was like that too - and even better, he didn't divulge things he didn't need to, either.

Well. Victoria couldn't pretend it had been easy to spend time with Nathan lately, exactly.

Max shrugged, dropping onto her back. "Suit yourself," she said, "but I think you'd actually like her, if you talked to her. She doesn't talk much, but when you get her going - well, she knows a shit-ton, I guess I'll just say that."

Victoria didn't want to hear this. "Max. If I kiss you and you promise not to overthink it once this trip's over, will you please shut up about Kate Marsh?"

"Hm. Deal."

This was going to get grass stains all over Victoria's clothes. And even if she'd asked Max not to overthink it, Victoria knew she'd be tearing this whole trip apart long after she'd washed the stains from her clothes and the lipstick from her skin.

September 7, 7:10pm

As she pulled into the parking lot at Blackwell, the nervousness that had begun to grow throughout the trip back reached a head. Victoria had just had a very strange day with Max, and she wasn't sure what it ending meant. Max would finally have something to wear to Vortex Club stuff, so Courtney would finally feel comfortable letting her in. That was good. Victoria was pretty sure that was good.

As they both reached into the back for their bags, Max paused. "You know," she said, "I've never done anything like today. I hope it was okay."

Victoria didn't know what to say to that, really. It was so hard for her to tell what Max was feeling - when their eyes met, Max's eyes were almost just the same neutral, and Victoria never knew what came next. "Yeah, I haven't . . . either." A half truth. "But I think it was okay. I think we're . . ." we're what? What are you even trying to say? "In the clear."

"Yeah," Max agreed, settling back into her chair with her bag in her lap. As she reached for her door, though, Victoria tapped her shoulder, trying to get her attention before Max left, and they were actually, really back at school.

Max looked back. If she knew what was coming, Victoria couldn't tell. She just leaned over the seat and kissed Max, and Max kissed her back. She brought her hands up to Victoria's hair, holding her in longer than Victoria had planned for.

Neither of them wanted their day trip to end. It felt like an entirely different car trip than the one they'd set out on.

Would things go back to normal after this? Or would this 'one more kiss' feeling linger in their classes, when they met in the hallway, at parties? If it did, what then?

Before Max left the car, she said, "Thanks for buying me the clothes. They're really pretty."

And all Victoria had to say in response was, "Yeah, of course."

And their trip was over.