#We started tossing around the idea of painting them to look like Minecraft blocks and fjdsafsd it would be so cute!!

[sysig]

BIRTHDAY

Birthday! :D

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Sincerely Us Gift Exchange

Due to the amazing gift exchange set up by @sincerely-us​, I had to give a gift to @djbead123​.

Prompt 4:”Mayphaps some sincerely three? Idk a streaming au where the boys are gamers and they're just playing minecraft while broadcasting and genuinely have a good time while doing so! “

Oh lord this is bad. 

In terms of not-as-crappy stuff, I also wrote something for you’re first prompt too!

Prompt 1:”Ok uh! Connor and Alana going on their first date, things go well until rains then they have to go in a building for shelter. Connor feels bad about the date being ruined but Alana reassures him that things are good!”

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509256

---

Alana stares at the mirror, her reflection. It proves a formidable opponent. 

But that doesn't mean it isn’t the first look away.

Ha.

She adjusts her blazer. The movement is swift and purposeful. She isn’t one to unnecessarily fidget with her outfit.

She looks nice. Her braids are freshly done, and her blouse is ironed and washed. Jared convinced her to wear a looser, paneled skirt instead of her usual pencil. Alana thought she would look like a school-girl. Jared had proved her wrong once again. He’s smart like that.

Hopefully he was about to do it again. 

It was Jared’s idea at first. He said the boy, this Connor, was a perfect fit for her. They were smart, liked similar books, and were both a (lovable) pain in his ass, in the words of Jared himself.

Alana couldn’t help but bring up the fact that dates set up by mutual friends only have a seventeen percent success rate. And Jared couldn’t help but tell her to shut the fuck up. Evan, after scolding his boyfriend, assured her she would have fun. 

She wasn’t so sure.

So she goes.

***

Connor’s not... unattractive. He’s tall, and his hair comes down to his shoulders. It’s not gelled back, and it's dark and flings across his face without any precision or care. He looks so ruffled, everything from his light grey button-up with it’s rolled up sleeves to his bright red tie. She’s almost positive he tied it Prince Albert style, instead of the usual Kelvin. She then decides she doesn’t like him. He’s too wild, too out of her comfort zone. She does admit they would look good together. They would balance each other out, she thinks. But that would never happen.

Jared would lose this one. 

But as she looks, her breath hitches, and he seems so perfect, so in place, yet so obviously unconstrained and unbending. She wonders for a moment what those long fingers would look wrapped around her own. She tries to stop looking, but she can’t. He stares right back. 

She wonders a bit more, and goes.

***

Dinner’s nice. They make polite conversation, bordering on everything they want to say but won’t. When she asks about his favorite books, he lights up, and Alana falls a little more. 

“Have you ever read The Little Prince?” 

“Yes.” Of course she had. It’s considered a cult classic. Who would she be, not reading when she considers herself a thorough reader?

“Important question. Do you think the prince died, or returned home?”

Well shit. 

“I’m not sure.”

“I think he died. The pilot couldn’t find the body because he was an adult, one of the grown-ups who ride the trains of the conductor maybe. Think about it, the book is partially about the narrator learning to be a kid again. The fact that he couldn’t find the body shows that he didn’t really learn anything. Assuming the prince is the symbolic personification of the perspective of a child.”

“That’s…. dark…”

“What, the fact he didn’t learn anything or the fact he died?”

“Both”

“Maybe”

The food comes, and they don’t say anything until after they leave the restaurant, when Connor points to the carnival a few blocks away and challenges her to a round of ring toss, winner buys the other funnel cake.

“Alright.”

They go, and Connor wins, (Barely, Alana would argue), but he gives her the stuffed bear he wins. She does buy him funnel cake, though.

They’re walking past brightly colored stalls offering everything from sweets to face paint when Alana speaks.  

“Maybe the prince didn’t die.”

Connor looks at her.

“Maybe the prince made it home, back to his rose, and the man knew it. Maybe that's why he asked for immediate contact if someone found a boy with gold curls. Although you could argue he put out the notice because he didn’t really learn anything. He’s always trying to recreate moments, instead of just enjoying the ones that happened. Or maybe the notice was really for the body, because he said the boy wouldn’t answer any questions. Because, you know, he would be a corpse. You could also say he put it out because, no matter how much he loved the rose, he was still a child, and his curiosity would eventually get the better of him. But, of course, you have to take into account the fox, who said the rose was special and unique, because the prince had ‘tamed’ her, so maybe he would have been satisfied.”

Connor just stares, the faint outline of a smile on his lips.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You’re like a Dr. Seuss book, constantly contradicting yourself yet somehow always having a deeper meaning.”

“Oh.” She smiles.

“‘Alana-I-am’, or what about “Alana Montana’?”

Alana tries to quiet the butterflies in her chest, but to no avail.

“I can picture it now ‘Alana Beck, you are a very queer quandary.’”

And she can’t help it, but she laughs. She laughs until she has no more laughs in her. And he laughs right with her. 

The rest of the night is spent laughing and talking. Before it started raining.

By now they’re on the Ferris Wheel. They were just reaching the top when a voice came over the carnival speakers.

“We are currently experiencing light showers this evening. Until they end, all rides will be temporarily stopped. We thank you for your cooperation.”

Connor snorts.

“They make it sound like we’ll be up here a while.”

“We will.” Alana says.

She makes a mistake you’re never supposed to make while at the top of a Ferris Wheel with a boy you just met. She looks in his eyes. 

It wouldn’t have been her first kiss. Her first was with a boy named Thomas behind the slides in fourth grade. Her classmates teased them about liking each other, so one day they just did it. They went behind the green dinosaur slide on the playground, and mashed their faces together. He tasted like cheeto puffs and apple juice. It wasn’t fun. 

But she kisses Connor anyway. 

There is no boom, her heart doesn’t throb and beat against her ribs like it’s in a cage. Instead she feels safe, secure, and completely in control.

Until he kisses back. 

The boom bounces off her chest and pounds at her head. Her heart beats and throbs in all the places it shouldn’t, and she can’t seem to let go. Her hands are in his hair. And his own are on her waist. She kisses him like she needs it, and she does. He kisses her like he doesn’t know why he can’t seem to stop. She doesn’t let their lips part until their both gasping for air, foreheads pressed against each other. 

“You, Alana Beck, are a very queer quandary.”

“You’re killing the moment.”

“My bad” And he closes the gap again.