#that’s on me for using fingers bc this palette didn’t come with a brush

[miss-floral-thief]

Borrowing some of dads hair gel idk how much diff it’ll make with how short my bangs are

[ackerfics]

levi who's fascinated with the way you apply makeup on yourself and watches you every time you do it, surprisingly does well when you tell him to do your makeup just for fun

i am one of those people who have no idea about applying makeup but i'm levi when somebody's doing it tho, especially if that someone is a close friend of mine snjdnwjnw i just stare at them while they continue doing their thing, it's so fricking satisfying <3

but this is levi we're talking about so here we go:

(pls don't attack me for what i write in this bc i absolutely have no idea abt doing makeup. my knowledge in this is very limited and revolves around watching youtube videos and watching my friends do it bdwjwbj)

if you're planning on going out, even if it's a natural makeup look since you're only hanging out with some old friends or preparing for your class (online or not), levi is ready to stop what he's doing to appreciate the colors you paint over your eyelids or how you blend them so well until they become this aesthetic levi associates you with. for him, you're already so pretty without makeup but when you dedicate your time in perfecting your craft, creating so many looks, levi thinks that it enhances your beauty because you look so adorable while working so hard.

he admires that about you.

you are rummaging in your pouch in your shared apartment's dining table, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows and the pink skies blanketing the waking-up city. the smell of french toast and tea covers the entire space, levi cooking breakfast for the day. you have an online class scheduled in about thirty minutes and after going out of the bathroom, you instantly start making yourself look presentable. you have your laptop opened to your camera app as your mirror, deciding that a change of scenery is perfect for your productivity. you pick up your vitamin c dropper and moisturizer and let the low music from levi's phone fill in the background, your hums mingling with the singer's voice. since all of your classes were announced to be set online for the whole year, you opt for a lighter look which still covers the blemishes that your camera can't hide.

you hear a plate click on the spot beside your laptop, a mug of your favorite brew of coffee on your cat coaster appearing soon after.

"what time is your first class?" levi asks you as he's settling in his chair adjacent to yours. he always chooses that seat wherever you two eat since as he claims it, i want you close to me.

you look up from rubbing the moisturizer on your skin. "oh, 7 a.m., i chose the worst time to take that class."

levi sips on his tea. "you have economics, right?"

you begrudgingly nodded. "i know it sucks but i can't do anything about it." you run your fingers over your eyes. "damn, i have dark eye circles." after putting on your primer, you start by putting on concealer on your under-eyes, dabbing on your skin gently. the whole day, you'll be lounging and doing work inside the comforts of your shared apartment with your boyfriend so going overboard with the makeup won't help and will be a lot of work to erase later after your classes. "what time is your class, levi?"

by now, levi's breakfast is forgotten as he leans on his chair, gray eyes following each of your movements. he always find himself captivated with how effortlessly you make yourself even prettier. even though he prefers your bare skin more (placing random kisses on your cheeks or the corners of your lips are more doable without the feeling of cream stuck on his lips), he still likes how makeup turns you into an artist that uses your face as a blank canvas. he watches with awed eyes how you daintily dab your cream blush over your cheeks and over you the bridge of your nose, blending it that levi thought it's a natural glow on your skin.

with a dazed tone, he answers, "nine."

you glance at him with the prettiest eyes he ever find on a person. you sigh when you realize that he woke up early to make breakfast. "i can cook breakfast, you know. you should've slept in today, levi."

levi shakes his head, sipping on his tea. "no, i'd rather wake up early and make breakfast every day than snuggle alone with our pillows." he then shrugs. "besides, watching you do your morning routine is a great way to start the day."

you only smile at him before cutting a piece of french toast and putting it in your mouth. a hum of satisfaction lights up your face. levi's way of cooking traditional breakfast dishes never fails to amaze you. he has these secrets that even you don't know of since he wants to cook for you with surprises sometimes. with half of your french toast consumed, you continue with your eyebrows and eye makeup, which only consists of applying one shade of eyeshadow and putting on mascara.

if levi has a favorite part of your routine, it's you curling your eyelashes and applying mascara on them to make your eyes more noticeable. and as he watches you create the illusion that your eyelashes longer than they are, he can't prevent the blissful sigh coming out of his lips. it catches your attention and the moment your eyes meet with his, levi's cheeks start to warm. that pretty smile that always take his breath away greets his vision, making him shy under your gaze.

"like what you see, babe?" you jokingly ask.

after staring on his untouched french toast like they're worth displaying in a museum, levi looks back to you with half-lidded eyes. "very much, baby."

now, you're the one with flaming cheeks. the little moment turns into something that induces a laugh from levi, with you huffing that your heart sometimes can't take his words. you go back to finishing your french toast before applying your flavored chapstick, levi's loving stare never faltering, lasting even when you have your first class of the day.

every once in a while, you hand levi your makeup pouch with an expectant stare. the first time you did this to him, he couldn't comprehend what your intention is at first until you tell him that you want him to be the one doing your makeup this time. he nearly backs out. he's scared of poking your eyes out but you reassure him that he will never do that.

for a person who never imagined himself in this position, the ending result becomes your favorite look. not because it's levi but because he did it so minimally that it appeals to you.

"this is for your face, right?" levi softly asks, lifting your moisturizer. he's sitting close to you, inches separating your faces. he's saying that it makes him see clearer but you know that he's being clingy without saying anything. "i just want to make sure i'm using the right products."

"levi, sweetheart," you laugh under your breath, "i already laid out everything on our bed. and in order. you got this."

he sighs. "you have another minute to think this through. we're meeting with the others in the club and i can't have you looking like my coloring book when i was three."

you place your hands over his cheeks. "relax, levi, you'll do fine!"

"fine."

opening the moisturizer, he keeps glancing at you to check if he's putting the right amount on your skin. once the small dots of cream are on your face, levi takes a deep breath and gently rubs it to cover your skin. despite having blemishes, levi thinks that your skin feels so soft underneath his calloused fingers. he'll caress your cheeks the whole day if not for your supposed call time which is in forty minutes. a sigh brushes on your face, levi cursing erwin for making them come on time. once he finishes rubbing your moisturizer on your face, he nods in approval, and kisses your lips quickly before moving on to the next step which is the primer.

you are admiring levi the whole time his face scrunches up in concentration. you're holding your laugh back when you see his lips curling in distaste, having applied more than your instructed amount. you're looking at him with a soft stare, your small smile fondly lifts up your lips. his eyes are a beautiful shade of silver, blue tones peeking through, and it makes your heart warm. his skin glows under the overhead lights of your shared bedroom, smooth to the touch. there are no words left to speak --- levi is simply the most beautiful person gracing your life, the definition of pretty and handsome combined together.

"okay, i'm starting your eyes now."

you didn't register that he's finished with applying concealer and blush on your cheeks.

levi turns to the opened palette sitting on the towel-covered duvet. "which shade are you feeling right now?"

with a cheeky grin, you answer, "how about you surprise me."

"... if i hear one complain from you later, you can always catch a ride with four-eyes on the way back."

levi eyes a specific palette with oranges and browns and starts winging it. if someone looks from the sidelines, levi looks like he's ready to murder someone. his eyes are narrowed, bottom lip in between in teeth, and face scrunched in peak concentration. he starts with that shimmery dark peach eyeshadow he finds pretty on you, then continuing with something darker on the outside corners of your eyes. one eye lasts for ten minutes but you understand since this is levi's first time applying makeup on a person. you can feel his breath tickling your face since he has scooted closer to you to perfect this.

"okay, i'm done, what's next?"

"liquid eyeliner."

that alone makes levi stop.

"then it's the mascara. your favorite part."

"... you do the eyeliner. i don't want you going blind because of me."

in short, levi is phenomenal with makeup and he doesn't even know it.

[bangtanstanst]

Act Natural | 4

part one • part two • part three • part four • part five • part six • part seven

You didn’t exactly plan on dating someone you work for. But, now that it is happening, all you can do is keep it between the two of you – no matter how hard that ends up being.

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: secret relationship au, fluff, some angst

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hi everyooone, I hope you’re all doing well (especially after joontro bc PSH that was a trip)!♥ I hope you enjoy this week’s fic :)

›› tag list: @nambewb @moonojoon (let me know if you wanna be added!) ‹‹ 

masterlist

Everyone is busy. Even though you have hours left until the members are supposed to go out on stage, the dressing room is bustling with staff getting ready for the day, making last-minute changes to plans and furiously typing at their phones, heaving a sigh, then typing some more – but quite honestly, you’re feeling pretty calm. You’re focused on getting Hoseok ready, chatting with him and the hair stylist working alongside you. Music is softly playing in the background and you’re humming along, oblivious to some of your colleagues’ stress. You’ll notice it when they start rushing you eventually, but you’ve learned to savour your time until that moment arrives.

“Also, Y/N, how’s that secret boyfriend of yours doing?” Dayon asks suddenly, looking up from Hoseok’s hair with a single strand of it held close to her thin curling iron, while Hoseok simply snickers.

Great, incredible. This is exactly what you need to stay relaxed.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you reply innocently, hoping to get her to change the subject. You can’t really blame her for wanting to know, though – you probably would’ve asked the same thing, had the secret boyfriend rumour been about Dayon instead of you.

“Oh, come on,” she teases, grinning. It’s like you’re talking to a replica of Yari. “Let’s get it out in the open. Who is he? What’s his name?”

“She doesn’t wanna say,” Yari replies from beside you, glancing at you before turning back to Seokjin, blending his foundation into his skin. “Believe me, I’ve asked everything, but she won’t budge.”

“We should set up a whole interrogation,” Hoseok remarks with a grin. “Really get to the bottom of everything.”

Seokjin gasps and snaps his fingers at Hoseok. “We could use that weirdly creepy conference room on the fourth floor!”

While Hoseok readily agrees to the proposition, you narrow your eyes at them, dipping your brush into the palette of eyeshadow in your hand. “You watch yourselves,” you warn the two members, wiggling the brush in Hoseok’s face before his eyes flutter closed, allowing you to do his eyeshadow. “I have a lot of power over your looks, you know.”

Hoseok takes in a hissing breath. “Sorry, Dayon, you’re on your own here,” he replies apologetically and you smirk in victory. Seokjin simply laughs, though he doesn’t seem to protest, either.

“There’s a smart man,” you tell him, dipping back into your palette and moving on to his other eyelid.

“Doesn’t mean you’ve gotten rid of me,” Dayon remarks, grinning as she wraps a strand of Hoseok’s hair around the curling iron. “Just tell us about him! How did you even manage to reel someone in when you’ve got working hours like ours?”

You snicker, more so because she has no idea that those working hours she’s complaining about are the sole reason why you ‘reeled him in’ in the first place. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” you insist, getting a disappointed huff from Dayon as you step back to see how you did on Hoseok’s eyeshadow. Deciding with a nod that it’s good, you whirl around to look for more supplies, glancing in the mirror.

Within less than a second, you catch Namjoon looking straight at you, a grin on his face. He soon breaks eye contact to type something on his phone.

“Hey, I’m done here, just let me know if you need a touchup,” Dayon tells Hoseok in the background, who nods and remains in his seat, waiting for you to finish. “Bye, Y/N! This isn’t over!” she chirps and you laugh, waving her off as she moves to Yari’s post and she starts chattering with her and Seokjin.

You glance down at the vanity, looking for the lip stains when you notice your phone gets a notification – a text from Namjoon – and your heart skips a beat.

[J💕: So how’s that secret bf doing?😏]

Pursing your lips in an attempt to suppress your smile, you quickly lock your phone screen and avert your eyes from it, grabbing the palette and brush you were looking for. “So how was your flight?” you ask Hoseok casually, turning back to him.

“Changing the subject, are you?” he replies with a grin, raising an eyebrow at you.

You chuckle, swiping pigment onto his lips with small strokes. “I thought we agreed not to talk about it.”

“How can we not?” he says, lips moving as little as possible until you lean back to inspect your work. “Our dear Y/N is dating people! Excuse us for wanting to make sure they’re the right person for you.”

You smile, dabbing your finger to his lips to smooth everything out. “I’m sure you’ll like him,” you reassure him, lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“We’ll only know when we meet the guy,” Hoseok sings, coloured lips curling up into a grin.

Putting down your supplies, you just smile at him over your shoulder. “All in good time, Hobi. All in good time.”

He laughs, squeezing his eyes closed when you turn around and approach him with the setting spray. “As long as it’s before the engagement, I’ll accept it.”

You huff, eyes wide. “Slow down, there, will you?” you say with a chuckle, spraying the mist all over his face. “It’s just dating.” You stay relatively composed, though you can’t help but glance at Namjoon, cheeks flushing when the picture of him in a tuxedo waiting for you at the end of a long aisle pops up in your head. He looks right back at you with a small smile, raising an eyebrow – the way he’s looking at you makes you feel like he’s just reading your thoughts.

“Dibs on being the maid of honour!” chirps Seokjin from a chair over. You tear your gaze away from Namjoon in surprise and are faced with a confident, composed Seokjin – you’d almost think he isn’t joking.

“Hey!” exclaims Yari, brush halfway towards his face. “I think Y/N will be a wise gal and give that job to me, thank you very much.”

“Guys, does the definition of ‘dating’ just completely fly over your heads, or what?” you interject, laughing away the strange feeling bubbling in your stomach.

“I’ll even wear a dress,” Seokjin offers boldly, earning an excited gasp from Dayon – and honestly, it piques your interest too. Your eyebrows shoot up, but he just grins at you, seeming to wait for your reply.

Yari groans before you can give Seokjin an answer. “Come on, how can I compete with that?”

“Anyways,” you start, feeling like you should change the subject before it gets worse, even though you’d love to somehow seal the deal on Seokjin in a dress. “You’re done, Hobi.”

He smiles and nods, thanking you and leaning forward to grab his phone from the vanity – just as your screen flashes with the notification of another text, and your heart skips a beat for more than one reason this time.

[J💕: If we do ever marry, I want crabs as ring bearers]

[J💕: I accept no other option]

You freeze. Hoseok’s eyes widen and he whips his head around to look behind him, trying to see who could’ve heard your conversation and sent the text.

And there’s just one person in the room whose name contains a J and who just so happens to love crabs.

Hoseok’s lips part when his eyes fall on Namjoon, who stares right back at Hoseok, his calm façade falling. He stands up from the couch, exchanging panicked looks with you, realising you have to act fast, lest your secret is revealed to the entire dressing room.

You turn to Hoseok and bend down. “Hallway,” you whisper urgently, quickly slipping outside without anyone noticing. You speed walk through the corridor that connects all the dressing rooms in search for a somewhat private spot, as far away from the occupied rooms as possible.

Quickly throwing a glance over your shoulder, you see both Hoseok and Namjoon are hot on your heels, with Namjoon gently pushing his friend forward. The man in question seems frozen with shock, just barely able to move enough to walk – eyes wide, mouth open, gaze continuously darting back and forth between you and Namjoon.

Finally, you turn a corner and, deciding it should do for now, you whirl around to face Hoseok.

“You?” he exclaims as soon as he’s around the corner, pointing at Namjoon. “You’re the secret boyfriend?!”

You let out a slow breath, drawing Hoseok’s attention by putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, he is,” you reply as calmly as you can, eyes flickering to Namjoon, who is checking to see if anyone is close enough to hear you. “But we’re trying to keep it on the down-low so please, please lower your voice right now and just- don’t tell anyone,” you ask him almost breathlessly, intently scanning his eyes in the hopes of finding reassurance.

“What?” he simply breathes out, blinking at you as you drop your hand back from his shoulder, standing back. “You- holy shit.” He moves to touch his hair but decides against it, knowing the mess of curls Dayon has arranged so perfectly will be ruined if he does. “Oh my god, just- when? How? How long? Jesus Christ, I have so many questions.”

“It happened a few months ago,” Namjoon replies calmly, walking over to stand by your side. “It was late and it just… happened,” he adds, glancing at you. You can’t help but smile softly, though you quickly look away and paste on a serious look once more.

“Fuck, is that why you stopped talking about her all of a sudden?” Hoseok breathes out, looking at his friend with wide eyes.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you glance at Namjoon. Of course, you did the exact same thing with Yari, so you shouldn’t really be that surprised, but still. “Kind of,” he replies sheepishly, shrugging. “Just… we’re trying not to make a big deal out of it.”

“But it is a big deal!” Hoseok exclaims and you glance around nervously, letting out a breath when you see the corridor is still empty. “You’re already talking about marriage, for fuck’s sake!”

“It was a joke, Hoseok,” Namjoon replies calmly, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re just dating, we’re still trying to figure out where we’re going ourselves, okay? We just don’t want to bother anyone with it.”

You nod firmly at Namjoon’s words, looking at Hoseok with a pleading expression. “Exactly,” you say. “Please, Hoseok.”

He lets out a long breath, starting to nod, and your heart skips a beat from relief. “Yeah, of course,” he replies, still looking incredibly dazed. “I just… this is a lot, guys.”

You can’t help but smile as you nod, glancing up at Namjoon. “Yeah,” you mutter, taking a breath as you look back at Hoseok. “But it’s been great so far.”

He chuckles, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’ll bet.”

Huffing at him, you shove his shoulder. “Jesus, not in that way,” you tell him, though you can see that Namjoon is smiling and nodding reassuringly at his friend from the corner of your eye, even going as far as to ‘subtly’ flash him an okay sign. “Not entirely, anyway.”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow at you, grinning. “Thought so.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, though you can’t suppress the smile teasing over your lips. “Let’s just go back before people get suspicious,” you suggest. “Don’t want to be yelled at for being in the bathroom too long.”

Hoseok chuckles and nods. “I’ll head out first,” he offers, the two of you agreeing, and he sends you a last smile before he moves back into the hallway. There’s a slight spring in his step as he walks off.

You watch him for a second before turning to face Namjoon, taking a breath and letting it back out.

“You go next,” he says softly.

You nod in reply, sending him a smile and a small wave as you take a step back towards the dressing room – but there’s still this strange feeling bubbling in your stomach, and you give in to the urge to stop before you even fully turn around. “Hey, by the way, that- that whole wedding thing…”

He sends you a reassuring smile that puts you at ease at once, holding out his hand for you to take. “We don’t have to know right now,” he mutters as you intertwine your fingers with his, suddenly forgetting that you’re in a public hallway, ignoring the fact that anyone could be walking past at any moment. “We’ll figure it out when we’re ready.”

You sigh and nod, feeling some of the nerves flush right out of you. You boldly take a step closer to him, empowered by the silence in the background that makes you feel like you’re alone. Even the occasional voice drifting out of a random dressing room doesn’t break that spell for you and so, you allow yourself to let go for a brief moment, putting your arms around his torso as he does the same.

“But we will make Seokjin wear a dress and that is final,” he jokes, making you chuckle. “I don’t care what it takes.”

With a snort, you nod firmly. “Deal.”

He smiles down at you, finger brushing along your jaw. “And I was serious about the crabs, you know,” he adds lowly.

You can’t help but laugh, raising an eyebrow as he tugs your hair behind your ear. “I’m sure it’ll be as safe and easy as it sounds.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Making fun of our wedding plans already?” You just chuckle in reply while he shakes his head in mock-disappointment. “This is not boding well for the other stuff I had in mind.”

You suddenly fall silent and look at him with wide eyes, parted lips – though you’ll admit you’re playing it up as much as he is. “What other stuff?”

He just smiles and shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “All in good time, babe,” he says, oh-so-cleverly throwing your own words back at you. “I’ll see you back out there.”

With a frown, you lean back, not making a move to actually leave just yet. “What other stuff, Joon?” you repeat, more insistently now.

“Shhh, it’ll be fine,” he says lightly instead of actually replying, kissing the corner of your mouth and grinning as he leans back. “Nothing you need to worry about. For now.”

The way he says the latter words makes you narrow your eyes, though you can only hold your pokerface for two seconds before the seriousness of it all draws a laugh from you. “Okay, that’s totally reassuring, thanks,” you joke, leaning in for a goodbye kiss but deciding against it.

Namjoon just closes the gap for you, however, pressing his lips to yours before you can check if the coast is clear. You kiss him back nevertheless, too tempted by the warmth and comfort that surges through you upon his touch.

Moments later, you break apart, and you smile and let out a content sight, eyes only slowly fluttering open. “I guess I need to get back now,” you say through a sigh, fighting the urge to lean back in for another kiss.

He smiles softly, loosening his arms around you so that you can step out of his embrace. You do so reluctantly. “Guess so,” he replies, holding onto your hand for as long as possible. “I’ll see you in a sec.”

“See ya,” you mutter in reply, sending him one last smile before your hand slips out of his and you turn to head back to the dressing room. “And be more careful texting, idiot,” you call, looking over your shoulder. “Or you might get us caught again.”

He just grins at you, shrugging. “Oops.”

You roll your eyes, though you’re smiling like an idiot as you start to head back towards the dressing room.

That smile is quickly fading with every step you take, however, and you feel yourself slumping by the time you get back to your workstation – because, yes, you love the fun you have with Namjoon regardless of where you are, what you’re doing, or what you’re talking about, you love joking around with him about weddings without feeling like you’re walking on eggshells.

But you just wish you could do that stuff out of the shadows.

prev • next

a/n: thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Poor joon just wants to joke around about crab ring bearers in peace but I guess everything comes at a price huh :(( Anyways, let me know what you thought and what you think/hope might happen next, I’d love to hear from you♥ I hope you have a great day/night! :)

masterlist

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (20)

A/N: BIG YEEHAW HOURS TODAY Y’ALL ITS BALL TIME!!!!!!! AND WE CAN’T HAVE A BALL WITHOUT A PRINCE *stars bawling*

costumes will come in another post bc i. got really excited and then drew them all like, last month (most of them, some were finished last night y e e et)

WARNINGS: remus mention, heist details, wound descriptions, sword mention, scar descriptions, threats of violence, thoughts of dying — alright, im pretty sure that's it, but this chapter has thicc details so if i missed anything pls pls pls lmk

Words: 4550

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 ,3 <3 

Deceit really was right, Patton thought while he looked around at the town. His arm was linked around Logan’s as they walked down one of the town’s side streets, from Dr. Picani’s office, and he was taking the time to admire how intricate all of the architecture had gotten. It was intricate and worn and every building seemed unique now, something that he hadn’t realized was missing during their first pass through. 

There were arch ways, bridges between doors on the third floors of buildings. There were seemingly hand-woven canvases shielding some of the streets from the sun and, if Patton squinted hard enough, he could see actual detailed stitching and some stains of age. They passed buildings that had scratches and chisel marks, and Patton could clearly see that it was made from stone bricks that had been painted over. Twice, actually. Once with a very old and faded blue, then with a lighter cream that still let the blue show through in spots where the paint was gone. 

He wondered a little what had caused those spots. Was it because you weren’t supposed to layer house paint? The spots were different sizes — how many memories were made here? 

Patton stumbled, tripping over his thoughts and heels, and leaned more into Logan’s side.

Logan tugged at his arm. “Don’t ponder too hard, Patton,” his voice was soft, hushed to not draw attention.

They’d figured that the best thing to do was to not think about the world around them. Thinking too much about the world and specifically the things that they would affect about it made their focus wander onto fixing those things. Logan would get a headache, Patton would space out, and Deceit would….well, okay, Deceit hadn’t disclosed how and if he’d been affected. But Patton noticed he’d been sweating like a sinner in church, and how his fist would clench every so often, so it was clear that something was happening with Deceit. He didn’t want to force him to talk; honesty wasn’t Deceit’s strong suit.

The four Romans had agreed that that was the smartest decision; none of them nor all of them together were able to limit the Imagination enough. The Playwright had argued that, had Dragon and Damsel known that it was hurting the other Sides, then they would probably all have a unified thought enough to close up the unused worlds. But that would require discussing the entire matter with them, which, as the Thief pointed out, is “pretty fucking useless where they are now.” 

So the focus thing was their current strategy. Patton grinned at Logan. “Thanks for the reminder, Octo-cutie-pie,” he smiled wider as Logan blushed. 

“I–I’m–Octopi is the plural for octopus and there is only one of me,” Logan bit his lip, then patted Patton’s hand gently, “Thank you.”

Patton giggled, snuggling against Logan’s side briefly as they kept walking. They hadn’t actually talked about the whole love thing, hadn’t really established boundaries, but that seemed like a problem for tomorrow. 

Right now, they were all going across town, invitations in hand, to the ball. And, at the very specific right now, Patton was admiring the Playwright and the Artist’s handiwork. They’d worked together to make everyone’s outfits and he’d be a liar if he said they weren’t handsome and beautiful.

Patton himself was themed after a cat — a grey cat, but a cat nonetheless! His dress had a long train for a tail, made of shimmering silver tulle, the same as his poofy sleeves. The skirt went from his waist to the ground, with a built in flair in his corset at the waist. Like, all of it was sparkling, all three tiers of his skirt, which went from grey to black with an inner layer gradient of blue to grey. His favorite part were his gloves, though. Silver for the most part, but with soft circles on his palms and the tips of all his fingers. His own lil’ toe beans! 

Logan’s outfit was one of Patton’s favorites. His was themed after an octopus (“Known for their intelligence,” the Playwright had explained, face bright red as he tied Logan’s necktie into an Eldritch knot) with a dark blue blazer and slacks. He wore a vest that shimmered royal blue, with a white button down underneath. There was a piece of coral in his lapel where a flower would usually go, and his coat tails seemed to spiral in shapes that resembled an octopus’ arms. There were even rhinestone bubble decals on his shoulders, or suckers, if you wanted to interpret it that way. The Artist and the Playwright had a small argument about that.

He was dashing, in summation. Patton leaned his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Who knew the town was so big!” he said. 

“That’s actually on purpose,” the Playwright said from behind them, “It’s actually not so big as the castle is small, using the same foreshortening techniques used at the Disney theme parks to make Cinderella’s castle, or Sleeping Beauty’s castle depending on which park you’re at—”

“I think he means how far Picani’s office is from the castle, God Mod,” the Thief responded.

The Thief and Deceit were walking in front, swords drawn on the chance that they ran into any guards, and so that the Thief could critique Deceit’s sword fighting skills. Surprisingly, he’d taken to the weapon, something about it being good to have at his disposal while dealing with the Others. The Thief offered to make him one once this escapade was over. 

Or maybe it was an excuse for the Thief to keep touching Deceit’s hand. Because that was happening every so often. A lot more often than would be considered normal. 

It wasn’t like Deceit was complaining about the touching. It was more the other way around. The yearning for physical contact was frustrating, but neither of them were going to admit that they wanted to hold hands. Even though they’d confessed to at least caring about each other. 

“Oh,” the Playwright hummed.

“Cheer up, butter cup, I love hearin’ bout the forced perspective! The Disney parks are so~o~o fun,” the Bard sang out. “When’s the next time we get to go to California? Are we making a trip down to Anaheim? Can we PLEASE take a trip down to Anaheim!”

One of his arms was looped around the Playwright’s, while the other was looped around the Artist’s. They had settled on outfits that complemented each other’s, pulling from the same red and black color palette.

The Artist was the only of the trio in a suit, though his outfit could be considered the loudest. Buttoned down the middle with a high collar, half of his shirt was a solid black, while the other half was a diamond checkered pattern. All of the accents were gold, and his pants were half solid red and half checkered as well. Tonight, the Artist would be a jester. 

An improvement on his self-esteem, the Bard had thought. The Artist had said so, too, saying he’d be dressing like a joke. It...was nice to hear.

The Playwright had also gone with a more light-hearted outfit, pun completely intended. He was dressed as the queen of hearts, with an A-line skirt that skimmed the ground and was almost entirely a replica of the skirt worn by the Queen of Hearts in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland animated movie. His corset had a low scoop neckline with a long heart that stretched down from the neckline to the bottom of the waist. His sleeves were poofy, black with red stripes between. 

It was a deck of cards theme between the three of them. Honestly, they took a bit of solace in their three Musketeers situation. The Bard was dressed like a harlequin in a ball-dancing dress. His entire dress was checkered, a stiff corset traded for a looser fit bodice that was sinched at the waist by a thick black belt with a heart clip. Bits of tulle were attached to his wrists, ideal for dancing in, which was perfect for the plan. He and the Playwright had matching heart chokers, too. 

As he’d said earlier, “We cute.”

Neither the Artist nor the Playwright had argued, and they had yet to pull away from him holding their arms. Maybe they didn’t hate him. 

They didn’t! They were moving beyond all that! 

Because they had to get the Child back, and Virgil back, and save the Damsel and they had a plan. Actually, they should run through the plan again, because the Bard had already forgotten most of it. 

“Thief?” he called ahead. 

“Mhm?” 

“Can we run through the, uh,” they had a code word for it, shoot, what was it? Oh! Oh, right, “The waltz again?”

“Great Mona Lisa, Bard, how the fuck did you forget how to waltz?” the Artist groaned. “We’re going to a ball.”

“No, no, no, THE waltz,” the Bard nudged the Artist’s side with his elbow. 

The Artist shot him a small confused glare, but realization struck his face quick after. “Oh. Oh, that waltz. Yeah, uh,” he turned to the Playwright, who also seemed confused, then to the front again, “Before we get in, we should go over the waltz again.” 

The Thief and Deceit both stopped as well, fingers brushing once again. The Bard saw the motion and chuckled to himself. Sweet Chopin, they needed to just hold hands already. He could envision the love birds flying around their heads. 

He felt a smidge bad, though. After all, he was the lucky Roman who got to kiss Patton. 

Logan and Patton both turned back to them. Patton let go of Logan, then looked around. They weren’t quite at the castle yet; a side alley, wide enough for all of them to stand in and with ample trees, barrels, and an open door beside it would provide good cover. 

“Let’s go over there,” Patton grabbed Logan’s arm again and led them all into the alley. 

They grouped up into a small but tight circle, the Thief pulling them together. He was in a suit, and an ironic one at that. Originally his costume was intended for Deceit, but he suggested switching them, so that the Dragon would think he were Deceit while being less suspicious. He was themed after a snake, though the theming was less noticeable than the color palette; there were yellow sequins arranged in scale patterns across his black blazer’s forearms, and his vest was black as well, undershirt yellow, and bowtie black. It looked a little like a snazzed-up version of Deceit’s lawyer suit and, though he’d tell no one, the Thief loved the look.

Deceit had said it looked nice on him, too. The bowtie, specifically, but also the entire outfit, and also the Thief simply looked good — yeah, they were both kind of messes. Gone was the ability to seamlessly flirt, apparently.

Still, it was nice to see Deceit in something other than yellow for a change, too. He was dressed as a peacock, with no blazer but a side-cape that shimmered iridescent purple and green. Part of it had blue and green rhinestones inching up the shoulder, and his vest beneath was teal, while his undershirt was mint green. There were bands on his upper arms, keeping his shirt bunched back, that were dark blue. Even his ascot was an iridescent purple and blue. 

They leaned against each other in the huddle. Brown eyes trailed all around the group, meeting similar expressions of steely determination. 

They could do this. 

“Alright,” the Thief started, “For the first hour, we’re gonna scope out the room and surrounding rooms. Meet wherever the snacks are in pairs, alternating pairs, and spread details. Patton and I will go twice.”

“Because you and I are gonna peel off after the first hour to go get Virgil and the Child,” Patton said, meeting the Thief’s eyes.

The Thief nodded. He looked around at everyone — Deceit and the Bard had both been fairly defensive about that choice, but he argued that they needed people who were good at causing distractions on the floor. Patton would be the best at comforting both Virgil and the Child, and the Thief was the only one who had any inkling of what the inside of the castle looked like. 

He continued. “Right. We’re gonna try to get out and—”

“Say, what d’ya think that’d make us?” Patton asked, a tiny grin on his face. 

“Oh, no,” Logan groaned, “Not—”

“Cat burglars!” Patton exclaimed with a giggle. 

The Bard immediately broke out into a fit of giggles, leaning into Deceit a little as he did so. Deceit just rolled his eyes and patted the Bard’s back, letting him cling to his side. 

The Artist stifled some chuckles of his own, and the Playwright grinned. Oh. Oh, no, not the idea grin. 

“I think Dragon will be hard pressed to find flaws in our purr-fect plan,” he said, eyes shining as Patton laughed as well. “We’re just gonna have to distract him with our adorable kitty-Pat.”

Logan groaned again, in good humor this time. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Playwright,” he grumbled. 

The Playwright immediately sobered up, mouth pressing into a line. “Ah, Logan, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Hey, but,” the Bard raised a finger at the Playwright, smile wide and mischievous, “If he catches wind of anything, you, Artist, and I can pull a wild card and deck him.”

That got the Artist and Patton to both laugh aloud, and even Logan smiled a tiny bit at the Playwright, if only to reassure him that his frustration was not directed at him.  

The Thief seemed actually annoyed, though. He snapped his fingers in the center of the circle. “C’mon, focus here. Patton and I are going to get Virgil and the Child, then we’re going to come back up to the ball room at the second hour. At that point, Deceit—”

“I’ll be dancing with Dragon and, once you’re back, I’ll be distracting him enough for you to get out,” Deceit waved his hand, also slightly exasperated. He wanted Virgil back immediately and, as the time to pull off their hest approached, he grew more nervous.

“Right. Then, Playwright will take you backstage once everyone else has filed out,” the Playwright nodded to the Thief regarding his involvement, and the Thief looked around the group once more, “All of that sound good? Everyone else, be on the look out for Damsel. We don’t know where he’s gonna be. If he’s out on the ball floor, Logan, you—”

“I will approach him and explain that we are here to get him out,” Logan grimaced, “If he is not on the ball floor….”

“Then I’ll be on standby to head into the dungeons,” the Artist said, smile deflated, brow furrowed in thought.

“Good,” the Thief patted his shoulder, gripping reassuringly, “And if Remus is there, then Bard is going into the dungeons with Patton and I’m staying in the ball room to kick his ass.”

“This all sounds like a plan, Thief,” the Bard said, smiling at him, “Logan, thoughts?”

Logan huffed, frowning at the ground. He’d rolled the details over in his mind a few times, so he’d already worked out some of the issues, such as the irrationality of the original plan’s “jump out the dungeon’s windows, really, how large are the windows, and how do we know it’s not underground.” For right now, it seemed as though the plan were efficacious, but they couldn’t be certain until it was enacted. 

But at that point, it’d be too late to change the plan to any degree of impeccability. They would have to wing it. And Logan wasn’t a fan of that. 

But what choice did they have?

“It is as detailed and as faultless as we can arrange for it to be currently,” he said.

The Thief’s mouth twitched into a slight grimace, but he nodded all the same. That was as optimistic as he would be. “Once this is all over, we meet at the tree as fast as we all can get there,” the Thief said, casting one more look around, “If we pull this off right, no one’ll be leaving alone. If your partner gets injured, you carry them to the tree.”

“I don’t think….” the Artist said, frowning a tiny bit as his voice trailed off. 

The possibility of injury was very high, actually. Death for the Romans, at least. And they didn’t know if the Dragon had injured Virgil or the Child. To be honest, they didn’t know if the Child was alive. Oh, goodness, what if Dragon had killed him? 

“It’s gonna work,” the Bard said, “It’s gonna.” 

He squeezed the Artist’s arm and gave him a nod. It was going to be okay. Roman was optimistic by nature, and the Artist did crave that sort of positivity. 

“It must,” Deceit affirmed none too positively. 

“It will,” Patton said, smiling at them all again before clapping, “And break!”

Everyone stood up on instinct. Then, they all shared slight laughs, small smiles.

The Bard leaned over and hugged Deceit with an arm, reciprocated a little. Patton leaned against the Artist, who didn’t hug back, but also didn’t flinch finally. 

They were getting somewhere. It was going to be okay. 

It was going to be okay. 

….Without Virgil, they all felt as though their optimism was naively placed. But that was why they were going to get him back! 

Once he was back, Deceit thought, he was never letting go again. If he was back. No, no, once he was back. He was coming back soon. 

“Let’s go,” the Thief pulled his mask out from his coat, a black half-face mask covered in yellow sequins arranged like scales.

Everyone shared looks, nodding to each other as they slid on their own masks. Logan, Patton, the Artist, and the Playwright all had special masks that mimicked their glasses prescriptions so they wouldn’t need contacts, too. With faces obscured, they nodded once more, squeezing arms in reassurance and patting backs and giving smiles, and hurried out of the alley. 

The Playwright walked at the front of the group, the only one not paired to any Side. He looked up at the sky. A storm had grown, clouds angry and grey above the castle, which was only a few blocks away now. Perhaps it would thunder during the ball. 

He wondered vaguely what had caused the sudden shift in weather. During their week alone, it was all sunny skies. 

Was it….

No. No, no part of Roman was that desperate, to have gone to Remus. Right? He’d been telling himself that ever since they’d begun this game, but the darker their future seemed, the more he worried about the Duke’s involvement. 

The Thief seemed to think it was very real, enough to have a back-up written into the plan. C’est la vie. Such was life, he thought, the show must go on.

They walked quietly for only a few minutes. The closer they got to the castle, the more Imagination inhabitants they saw walking around them, some in pairs, some in groups, some alone. Everyone was in costume, most intricate. Good. This would be good, for coverage. The Thief had been a little worried that the ball would be sparsely attended, but this was good. 

It was going to be okay. 

They approached the drawbridge. Patton leaned against the Artist, gripping his arm tighter as the wind picked up. The Thief and Deceit were stoic behind them, and Logan and the Bard were simply quiet, though their hands were interlaced tight. It was going to be okay.

A line had formed on the bridge, in front of one man in a suit, perhaps the medieval equivalent of a bouncer. The group shuffled into the line, looking around at the castle, at the moat (“I think it’s filled with alligators,” the Bard murmured to Logan, who shook his head and was about to respond that that didn’t make sense, until an alligator’s maw jumped up and snatched a low-flying bird) and at the sky. 

Angry, angry clouds. 

It took an excruciatingly long eleven minutes for the Playwright to finally reach the front of the line, but when he did, he immediately grinned. He had to hand it to the Dragon. 

“May I see your invitation?” Zac Efron asked, dressed in a black butler’s outfit.

Bless the Imagination’s castings. The Playwright handed over his invitation, and Zac looked over a list in his other hand before handing back the invitation and checking off a name. “You may enter to the ball room,” he motioned to the door. 

The Playwright curtsied and hurried in. Behind him was the Artist and Patton, both of whom gasped a little, becau se holy shit, it’s Zac Efron. 

The Dragon was really out here casting Thomas’ celebrity crushes as butlers. It was the first thing that the Artist had wholly agreed with the Dragon on, actually. Once they were Roman, they were going to have to look into that as a possibility. 

One by one, each entered, walking down a grand hall with a ceiling so high and so vaulted that there seemed to be a sky inside. But, then again, there probably was. This was the Imagination. It looked somewhat like the Great Hall from the Harry Potter movies, this time shining with stars and constellations. 

Logan could identify Aries and Pieces. That was actually accurate for the season and hour, so he gave a mental kudos to Roman for his design, then considered if it were his knowledge that had been used to perfect the stars. Well. That was inconsequential, I guess?

The hall was also lined with suits of armor, and bannisters adorned with Roman’s full crest. Though, Deceit noticed while he walked through, the entire crest was outlined in gold and the castle in the center was colored with grey and brown and black. He thought the Dragon was only supposed to be the outer tower and walls. If the Dragon called all of the shots around here, then why was the center tower also colored?

The walk was long, heels clacking against the stone. They turned with the carpet to the left and entered through a pair of double doors that had to be at least two floors high. 

Inside was life. The room was massive, stretching almost the size of a football field. There was a stage near the entrance door where there were musicians (with undetailed faces, Deceit noticed) were playing loud enough to echo across the room. The dance floor seemed to take up about half the room. 

Farther away from the entrance were some circle tables, arranged around with some citizens already sitting down. Further back were some long tables, food stacked atop them, and even further….

The throne was elevated so the Dragon could see across the hall to the dance floor. The Thief’s fists clenched immediately upon seeing him wearing the Prince’s attire, white uniform a stark contrast to the black he was typically adorned with. It was a jarring difference. 

He was taunting them. By Doc Holliday’s pistol, they were gonna take him down.

Beside his throne was a large Ottoman seat, where there was another figure. The Damsel, most likely, though his face was obscured by a sheer red veil and distance. He was wearing a large dress, which had a triple-tiered skirt that seemed to flare out orange, then red, then black. His corset was decorated with red and orange and yellow rhinestones, and raised behind his head. It almost looked like flames. 

Burned. The Damsel’s scars were also entirely visible, scabs on his arms angry and red, clearly not fully healed. They weren’t openly bleeding, but the Playwright could tell that they would start bleeding at some point in the night. 

His nose scrunched as he examined the pair. They didn’t seem to notice him, the Damsel leaning against the throne’s side and not moving, the Dragon stroking his chin and looking across the hall absently. He had a sword sheathed beside the throne, too, with its handle sticking up in an easily accessible manner. 

He was waiting for them, he realized. Of course he was, this was a trap, you fool. You knew this. You’d planned. It was going to be okay.

The Playwright turned back to the group just as the last pair, Logan and the Bard, entered. 

“Okay. I am going to move toward the snack table,” he nodded toward the thrones, “Octopus, would you like to join me?”

Logan let go of the Bard, who curtsied and stepped back, and then offered a hand to the Playwright. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, “How about we acquire a table, Hearts?”

The Playwright nodded, then shot the Thief a look. “Snake,” he said, a promise, a warning, “Let’s waltz.” 

“Let’s,” the Thief responded, squeezing Deceit’s arm. 

The Bard and Patton had already taken each other onto the dance floor, hoping to not be conspicuously waiting in a group by the door way, and the Artist was meandering around — nope, no, he just asked an Imagination citizen to dance. Blending in well. 

Operation save Virgil and the Child was a go. 

Virgil could hear the faint music from above. He squinted up, then closed his eyes and exhaled. What’d that matter? 

His side was throbbing. It seemed that just wrapping a bandage around a wound did fuck all to stop it from hurting, or bleeding, especially if it was just wrapped once and around the front. Virgil would have to remember that for the next time he got stabbed by an evil Dragon, he thought snidely. 

He and the Child had relocated themselves to the bed. Pretending to not be panicking was tiring, but luckily for him, the Child had fallen asleep. 

He sniffed quietly, rubbing his eye with the butt of his palm. For the past half an hour, ever sine the Child fell asleep, Virgil had been silently crying. And there was no Damsel to conjure him a glass of water or tell him it’d be okay. Because he knew it wasn’t going to be okay. 

Even if he didn’t die in the Imagination, he’d be exiting it alone. And that was fine! 

The Child snuggled closer to his chest, tiny arms wrapped around him. Virgil sniffed again and hugged him tight. 

If he did nothing else, he’d at least protect this Roman. 

He wished he’d at least told Roman how he felt. 

Maybe he’d never get the chance. 

Gosh, this was really fatalistic, even for him. It wasn’t like he was gonna die in the Imagination. 

Virgil shielded his eyes with an arm and, as illogical as it was, wished that he could use that one arm motion to block out the sounds of the ball going on above. Shit, he was gonna die in the Imagination. 

….Usually that’d freak him out a bit more. Maybe he’d bled out to the point where he was too tired to be worried. And, maybe it was childish, but he really did want to dance with Roman. 

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

[jisungsmochi]

jaemin doing your makeup, bf!au

bullet points bc i’m lazy

requested; yes ! @strawberrydreamies

fluff ok

word count; 900

let’s get it

—

• you and jaemin would probably be out shopping

• he only came bc he wanted to get food but you dragged him to look at some stuff, preferably, makeup

• you wanted to get some new eyeshadow palettes as well as stock up on other products you were running low of

• so could y’all just imagine, smol but tall, na jaemin, following you around like a lost puppy in sephora or something ?

• like he’s literally attached to your side, pulling on your sleeve while whining

• “that looks exactly the same as the other one, i don’t get it”

• “you never will” you sigh at him before continuing to put stuff in your basket

• he kinda let loose and wandered away by himself

• you were lowkey scared tho bc he might break something or do some weird shit

• but never fear, you found him playing with the highlighters

• his fingers were all topped with glitter, he was staring at them in awe before you dragged him out of the store after buying your items

• he pouted at you, complaining that he wanted to see what you would look like with the highlight on

• “okay MUA jaemin, why don’t you just do my makeup then” you suggested as a joke

• “i will take you up on that offer, i’m gonna make you look prettier than you already are!” he pinched your cheeks softly, getting the highlight onto your cheeks

• you groaned before using the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe the product off of your face

• so now you’re both in your room, you brought out your makeup essentials

• jaemin sat cross legged from you on the floor, smiling at you in admiration bc you’re actually letting him do your makeup

• he probably felt super confident in his skills tbh

• you pulled your hair back with a cute headband, and laid your makeup next to him

• he stared at it intensely

• “babe, what do i use first?”

• you rolled your eyes before handing him a bottle of primer, he squeezed a small amount before rubbing it onto your face

• you scrunched your nose at how odd the feeling was, of his hands running over your cheeks

• he smiled at you bc you were being adorable as shit

• and obviously he needed to give you a small peck on the lips bc he’s na jaemin ok

• you started blushing after his hands left your face

• he moved onto foundation

• “i’m using all my knowledge of basic makeup skills here okay babe” he would announce, while blending the foundation into your skin

• “and i’m trusting you with that knowledge, babe” you replied, looking directly into his eyes

• his eyebrows were furrowed, as he concentrated on blending properly, you could help but smile at him

• he was doing a pretty steady job so far, he didn’t mess up your eyebrows although he kept repeating “eyebrows are not twins, they’re sisters”

• he pulled out one of the new eyeshadow palettes you had bought earlier, and picked out some colours

• “remember to blend!” you remind him, as he nodded along to your orders

• “i’m gonna use this peach pink bc you’re my little peach” he complimented you, making you flustered all over again

• he blended the eyeshadow thoroughly, he would pull himself back from you, staring at his work and then going back to blend some more

• whenever his face got close to yours, he would smile and give you a little peck before continuing

• “you need to stop kissing me otherwise you’ll never get this done” you lowkey whine bc you just wanna see what you look like goddamn

• “what if i don’t want to get this done” he winked

• “na jaemin, just shut your mouth and blend!” you giggled, softly slapping his shoulder

• he shook his head before continuing

• this boy even contoured for you, and put on some blush like aw, u gem

• the lipstick he picked out, matched the look completely !

• and finally

• his favourite step of them all

• the highlight !!!!

• he has been waiting for this moment

• with the flick of his wrist, and the fan brush, the highlight was delicately applied to your cheekbones

• he dramatically dropped the brush before exclaiming

• “i finished baby! you look absolutely stunning, as always” he smirked before showing you in your mirror

• you were utterly shocked

• he did a decent job

• it was AMAZING, but he knew what he was doing wowza

• “aww babe i look so pretty!” you admired him smiling at himself through your mirror

• you shuffled over to him, colliding your bodies together and tackling him onto your bed

• “hey, don’t be so rough, your makeup is going to be ruined!” he pouted at you, still holding onto your waist

• “i guess you’re right, looks like we can’t kiss for a while now” you shrug yourself out of his grip, crossing your legs, sitting up on your bed

• “babe don’t even say that to me right now” he groaned before dragging you to his side

• he pulled his face directly in front on yours and smirked

• “one kiss” he whined, you gave in just like that lmao

• you felt him smile into the kiss, knowing the lipstick probably transferred by now

• “hmm maybe i should do your makeup..” you smirked at him

• his eyes widened, he knew what was coming next

[artificialqueens]

Open Up When (Shalaska) Chapter 1 - Kayden

an: im back back back again nearly a month later with the first chapter WHOOPS tbh chapter length might drop bc like???? i wanna please the people ANYWAY here yall go

The letter felt heavy between the blonde’s fingers. Even though she had only opened the envelope a few seconds beforehand, it seemed as if she had been curled up in that position for years. Just reading Sharon’s handwriting. By reading Sharon’s handwriting, Alaska meant that she had only read the “Dear Alaska”. Her eyes traced over each stroke of the letters. She could imagine Sharon hunched over a desk, chewing her pen before falling back in her desk chair and groaning loudly. That was what Sharon would do. There she was, scratching her way back into Alaska’s thoughts. The girl let out a sigh. It was too late now to back out. She traced one slim finger down the edge of the paper and began reading.

“Dear Alaska,

You’ve opened this because you’re sad and I’m not there. Obviously.”

“Ah fuck.” She muttered. She’d forgotten what was on the front of the envelope. The part that would reveal what the letter would contain. The most important past of the damn thing. She was so interested in the contents that she immediately turned it over and used one acrylic nail to rip it open. Man, she really was a psycho ex girlfriend. Whatever, it was open now.

“I’m so sorry I can’t be there to comfort you baby. I really am. You know it makes me sad when you’re sad. I hope I can return to you soon with all of your favourite foods and make you feel better again.”

The words felt bitter on the blonde’s tongue. Alaska wanted her favourite foods. She wanted to cuddle up on the couch and watch shitty daytime television. She wanted- No, she needed Sharon to comfort her. She could’ve if she wasn’t the one destroying Alaska’s heart and mind. Alaska shook off the thought and continued reading.

“Since I can’t let you cry into my shoulder and pull my hair into styles I can’t pronounce the names of, I decided to list some of my favourite memories and I’m praying to some non-existent god that they cheer you up. I swear I’ll be there for you soon”

Alaska let out a small chuckle. Well, at least it seemed like one. She enjoyed Sharon’s twisted sense of humour. She missed it.  Her fingers wiped away a tear that was threatening to escape. The blonde was going to try not to cry millions of tears by the end of the letter.

“Firstly, remember the first time I said I loved you back? The time we nearly got kicked out of a department store? I still can’t believe you did it. You broke down my walls.”

Of course Alaska remembered. It was the first time that Sharon actually said those words to her. She leaned back against the end of her bed as she recalled that eventful day.

May 12th, 12.04pm

Alaska pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail as she glanced through what to wear on her date with Sharon. Even though they had been going out for four and a half months already, they hadn’t done two things. One, they hadn’t come out as dating. It was obvious as to why. If Alaska, co-head cheerleader and part of the popular group, came out as gay, she would be horrendously bullied. If she was exposed as being gay AND dating the punk rule breaker Sharon?  Her name would be plastered over every bathroom stall. Sharon was used to it but she couldn’t bear to see Alaska’s reputation destroyed. The other thing was that they both hadn’t said ‘I love you" yet. The blonde had, multiple times. Whether it was a playful side comment while they were laughing over cups of tea or the more serious times, those words always seemed to be uttered by Alaska. Was she slightly disappointed? Yes. However she was fully aware that Sharon wasn’t as trusting in relationships and that it was hard for her to open up.  She needed to respect that.

The blonde pulled out a pleated skirt. It was a pastel pink and came to a little bit above the knee on the cheerleaders long lanky legs. It was perfect for any date. That reminded her, where was Sharon even taking her? She pulled out her phone and began typing out a quick message.

To: Noodles❤️:

can i at least have a hint as to where you’re taking me ??? >:(

From: Noodles❤️:

No, you may not.

A frown crossed the girl’s face. She had never liked surprises. Her mother had thrown her a surprise party for her 12th birthday and she had a horrible panic attack. The girl let out a small prayer that history wouldn’t repeat itself. She couldn’t let Sharon know about her anxiety. Sharon already opened up to Alaska about her past and how it fucked her up. Alaska needed to be the strong one in the relationship.

She slid her skirt up her thighs and adjusted it, turning to look in the mirror. The skirt was cute, but not with her oversized top that she wore to sleep. She took another look in her closet. After a few seconds of searching, She found a basic black singlet top that she could wear her favourite sweater on top of. She changed her clothing, tossing her pyjama shirt in the laundry basket and struck a pose in the mirror. Man, this outfit was adorable. She blew herself a kiss and pulled her hair out of the ponytail it was in. Light blonde locks fell over her back. Using her slim fingers, she shook it a little to let the hair fall more naturally before moving over to her drawers to find a hair brush. Something was off however. She was scrambling to find the brush in silence. After putting on some love song playlist, she continued to look.

When her quest for the hairbrush was over, she let the bristle slip through her sun kissed locks, letting it untangle every knot. After allowing her brush to do its main purpose, she began to use it as a microphone, badly screaming the lyrics to some bad quality 90’s ballad. She twirled around her room, the edges of her skirt lifting upwards to expose more of her lightly tanned thighs. Her lips parted to reveal a toothy smile as she sat down in front of her vanity, still singing the song, this time quieter and with more of a melody than her earlier screaming. She pulled open a drawer to reveal palettes upon palettes of makeup. After going through all her drawers and picking out the makeup she would wear, she decided to send Sharon another text.

To: Noodles❤️:

just starting my makeup now xx how are you going ??

No response just yet. She expected that from Sharon. With her it was respond anywhere from three seconds to three weeks later. She placed her phone down and began to apply her foundation. It was a small while later that her phone vibrated, when she had just begun to apply eyeshadow. The blonde jumped, nearly ruining the entire look.

From: Noodles❤️:

Haven’t left bed yet. x

The blonde let out an eye roll and a small chuckle. She was still so confused as to how her girlfriend always looked stunning whenever she saw her even when she was wearing the same clothes that she had for the past week and her hair was a complete mess. Alaska finished up her eyeliner, the small flicks at the end not being completely straight, but then again, neither was she. After finishing up her full look with a touch of mascara, she headed downstairs to put on some sneakers and to deal with her mother.

As she tied her laces, her mother came into the room. Alaska’s mom wasn’t much shorter than her, and had aged well. Her hair was dry from re-bleaching it all these years. She wore clothing that was vaguely bohemian but still had a very strong ‘mom’ feel to it. She took a step closer to her daughter and began to speak.

“When am I going to meet this boyfriend of yours? He seems like such a sweetheart, taking you on all these dates and things. Much more romantic than your father. Will I be meeting him soon? How about I walk you out and come meet him?” She smiled. The younger blonde put her hands up.

“That won’t be necessary, okay? You’ll meet them eventually.” She put her bag over one shoulder and headed out, giving a small wave to her mother before slamming the door.

To: Noodles❤️:

hey im at the end of the drive waiting

To: Noodles❤️:

just had more questions from my mother

To: Noodles❤️:

she wants to meet u badly yikes

Alaska sighed into the cool air, letting the wind realign where her hair sat on her shoulders. She lightly rubbed one arm and leaned out in time to see Sharon’s car turn the corner. The entire car looked like it was going to fall apart any minute. The pain was chipping and dents decorated every side. On the contrary, Sharon was looking like a million dollars. Perhaps it was the bias that Alaska had due to her being absolutely head over heels in love with the goth. She grinned and waved as the girl pulled up on the curb and rolled down her window.

“Babe, if I knew you were going to dress up this well, I would’ve planned something fancier.” Sharon chuckled.

Alaska rolled her eyes and got into the car, closing the door behind her. “This is really nothing, I swear. Where are you taking me anyways?” The blonde fastened her seatbelt and leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. Sharon awkwardly smiled. “C'mon, it won’t be that bad, will it?” Alaska pouted slightly and placed one hand onto the shorter girl’s thigh. “Will it?”

Sharon nervously laughed. She had been shocked by how gorgeous Alaska had looked and suddenly felt guilty about not taking her girlfriend on the trip she deserved. Her eyes became fixated on Alaska’s facial features. She became so focused on all the tiny details that made the blonde look like a goddess that she didn’t realise that she had been asked a question.

“Hm? I’m sorry I just-” Sharon shook her head and rubbed her eyes slightly, “got a little distracted. What was it you were saying?”  She attempted to laugh and shrug it off that she just got lost in Alaska’s beauty but she could tell by the blonde’s sudden outburst of giggling that it hadn’t worked.

tags- open up when, kayden, shalaska, sharon needles, alaska,

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll find out the answers soon” She managed to get out through laughter.

The first half of the car ride was smooth, filled with small talk and large periods where Alaska would just admire her girlfriend. Around the middle of the car ride is when the anxiety started. What if the reason Sharon hadn’t said she loved Alaska yet was because she didn’t? What if she was going to leave Alaska in the middle of the woods? What if Sharon was only dating her to get rid of her? The blonde could feel her breathing get quicker and she fiddled with the folds in her skirt. What was it that her councillor told her to do? Alaska racked her mind for the answer.

It came to her after about a minute of quietly panicking. Best scenario, Worst scenario, Most likely scenario. Best scenario? Sharon took her down to the dock and married her right then and there. They’d both escape to New York and raise two cats. Alaska grinned at the idea of it. Worst? Sharon ditched her in a forest and tied her up to a tree and let her be eaten by woodland creatures. Why wouldn’t have Sharon done it earlier in the relationship though? Realising that it was unrealistic, Alaska could feel her heartbeat settle as well as her breathing. What would most likely happen? They’d go on a date like they had done for the past couple months. Now calmer, Alaska began to drift off in her car seat.

May 12th, 1:47pm

As they pulled into the parking lot, Alaska woke up, batting her eyelashes and stretching as much as possible given the confined space she was in. Her eyes still plagued with sleep, she looked out the window to see where her date would take place. The image that laid in front of her was… Kmart. She turned quickly around and gave Sharon a questioning look, not sure if this was the final destination or not.

“Sorry it’s not quite what you expected” Sharon rubbed the back of her neck and averted eye contact, assuming she had let down her date.

Alaska ran a hand over Sharon’s thigh, her fingers meeting skin where the rips in her jeans were. “It’s absolutely perfect”

They walked across the parking lot, fingers interlocked. As they reached the door, Sharon pulled her hand away. Alaska frowned slightly but knew it was for protection. If someone they knew was there, it would be easier for Sharon to duck away if Alaska wasn’t touching her. Or  if homophobes approached they could claim to be just friends. Overall, safety was more important right now.

They made their way into the store. It was much smaller than Alaska remembered but the last time she had gone she was much younger. She wanted to see how it had changed so she grasped onto Sharon’s hand (after checking for any people who would possibly see) and began searching.

Alaska ran down through the aisles, dragging her girlfriend behind her. Even though Sharon was about to completely fall over onto her face, she was happy. Alaska turned slightly to check on her girlfriend every now and then to make sure she was keeping up. They had made it to around halfway when Alaska came to a quick halt, causing the slightly shorter girl to completely fall over due to not gaining balance back quickly enough. Sharon laughed whilst the cheerleader desperately tried to check if she was injured.

“Angel, I’m fine” she reassured the vaguely panicked girl.

“Are you sure? I’m used to falls like that because of cheerleading but you won’t be so you might be really badly injured and I know first aid!” She rambled before realising that people were looking over very concerned. “She’s fine! She’s ok! I’m just overreacting!” She nervously giggled and tried to use her hair to hide her now blushing face. Sharon chuckled as she looked at the woman who had come over, worried about them. She looked to be in her 50’s and wore clothing that made her seem like she was much older. The woman smiled at the blonde and turned her head to look at the girl on the ground. Her brow furrowed and the corners of her lips turned downwards.

“You there, in the black. You look like a faggot dressing like that!” She pointed at Sharon. Alaska balled her fist and prepared for a fight but relaxed when she made eye contact with Sharon and realised she had it under control.

Sharon finally got off the ground after the slur was shouted and stood there calmly, giving a small nod to her girlfriend when she realised that she was about to throw some hands.

“You know what?” She began, taking a small step towards the woman and saw Alaska step behind her out of her peripheral view.

“I dress like this because I am a faggot. I’m a major flaming homosexual. I love holding hands with girls, I love taking girls on dates and I absolutely love eating girls out. Especially good girls. You think they’re all nice and pretty and will never stray away from faith and you’re wrong. They quiver under my fingertips. I pleasure girls way better than your husband has ever pleasured you. You hear that? I’m a goddess in the sheets. A fucking goddess. Don’t try and tell me I’m going to hell. I know I am. However, telling by your age, you’re going to get there before me. So be a darling and save me a seat, won’t you?”

Alaska wanted to go over and kiss her right then and there but didn’t. She didn’t know why she decided against it, but she did. After the woman had stormed off, she ran into Sharon’s arms, draping her own arms around her girlfriend’s neck. “That was… fucking amazing” She leaned closer in, resting her head on Sharon’s collarbone.

“Yeah it was,” Sharon paused “But we should leave before we get thrown out, don’t want to damage my little angels reputation.”

Alaska pulled away from the hug, rolling her eyes.

“You know I’d ruin it for you.”

May 12th, 2:28pm

After purchasing drinks, the girls decided to wander around the parking lot for a little while. The day had quietened slightly and the two girls walked side by side. Alaska appreciated the fact that most of the bustling people had stopped. Now only two noises lingered in Alaska’s mind; Sharon’s footsteps and the breaths that escaped both of them. She turned her head to smile at her girlfriend and discovered that Sharon had been looking at her the whole time they had been walking.

“What’cha thinking about?” Alaska let the words bounce off her tongue and escape through cherry coated lips.

“How much I love yo- Oh fuck.” Sharon began to splutter and panic, “I didn’t mean it, I mean I do but” She was shut up by the feeling of a finger pressing against her lips.

“It’s ok, I understand.” Alaska pulled her slim hand back towards her. The shorter girl shook her head.

“You really don’t understand. You don’t understand at all. Whenever I look at you the entire world and all the stars realign. Whenever you smile all colour comes back to my world. Whenever we kiss I can taste happiness and I haven’t tasted that since… forever ago. Everyday I wake up wondering how you’ve stayed with a freak like me. When you said yes to me asking you out, I went home and woke up the next day wanting to get out of bed. You’ve made me want to live again. So you really don’t understand how much I love you. I really do love you. I used to be so afraid of saying that. I thought you would hate me or that I’d end up being wrong about it. I know now that I’m desperately head over heels for you. You make me so fucking happy. God, if there even is one, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

That’s when Alaska realised. She, head cheerleader and one of the popular girls, had fallen completely for Sharon. The same Sharon who skipped class to smoke and played the bass guitar and flipped off teachers and had absolutely gorgeous hair and eyes and- Oh fuck. She really did love Sharon didn’t she?

The blonde grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and raced back to Sharon’s run down piece of metal she called a car. They both jumped in, this time to the back seat. No longer caring who saw them, the girls both became entangled. If a passerby were to look in, they wouldn’t be able to tell where Alaska stopped and Sharon began. When their lips weren’t touching, they were intensely staring at each other.

That’s when it all faded back to black

Present Day

Alaska moved one her hands from the paper to her face. Hot and wet. She wiped some of her tears away. Reading the entire letter would take forever if she continued to have full blown flashbacks like this. She needed to figure out why Sharon had left her and she needed to know soon. But I mean, it wouldn’t be THAT harmful to finish that letter first before moving onto the letters that she knew would make her upset at everything. Alaska stood up and looked out the window. It was dark. Really dark. She knew she couldn’t continue reading right now, she needed rest.

Alaska changed into a new shirt for the first time in a week, glad that she had finally cleaned up the closet. She lay down and decided to check her phone to see if anyone had messaged her. Turns out there were three messages.

From: Willam the Pig:

cant wait to see ur ass tomorrow u missed so much holy fuck

From: Courtney 🐨:

Looking forward to finally catching up tomorrow!!! I’ve missed you so much!!! : )

From: Russian Doll:

If ur not coming tomorrow im gonna eat ur son and also u

The blonde let out a huge sigh, realising she had to go back tomorrow and see everyone. All the teachers already hated her for talking during class but she’d have to do a whole lot more talking tomorrow to find out everything that happened. Knowing her school, the drama would be intense. Last time she was away for a week she came back to Alyssa starting drama with everyone and she meant everyone.

Most importantly, Sharon would be there. Does she remember the letters? Does she care? Should she get her clothes back tomorrow? Would she show up to cheerleading practice? What about science class?

Alaska would have to think it all over in the morning.

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 7, Part 1

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

this is the point where we (I, the lazy author) start skipping weeks, so donut fret for not finding weeks 5 and 6 bc they donut exist :)

previous chapter

Tell me if you wanted it at all

“Let me hear you,” Jack said.

I remained quiet, my face beet red.

“Come on, Bellers,” he coaxed.

“I don’t sing in front of people!” I blurted out, tangling my fingers together nervously.

“You sing in front of me!” interjected Mark, who was sat next to Jack on the sofa.

I hesitated. “B-But that’s different…”

“No, you always want someone to hear you sing before you post it on your channel!” he told me. “And it’s just me and Jack, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

I looked down at my keyboard. I was excited to sing for them earlier, but then the time came and I got cold feet. One of the few things I was proud of about myself was my ability to sing. I had perfect pitch since I took classes as a child. I could sing big vocals like it was nothing, high notes came easy to me. It was just intimidating every time someone heard me sing. I was being watched and judged and I was never good under that kind of stress.

But it was just Mark and Jack. I shouldn’t have been so nervous, but I was always nervous. I inhaled deeply and played the first few notes of the song I had chosen.

“I can still taste the ocean, like it was today…

You said ‘please keep on holding my hands’ and the rain it came too soon,

I will wait for you to love me again”

I kept my eyes on my fingers pressing the keys. In all honesty, I only wanted to sing this particular song to Mark because it made me think of him. I figured I would hint at it in the description box if I decided to be brave.

“Guess I was running from something, I was running back to you…”

Have you ever listened to a song and you just wanted to live in it? Or inject it into your veins? I had strong feelings when I heard this song, feelings similar to when I realized I really loved my boyfriend.

I took a quick glance at the two guys. They both had matching grins on their faces. I kept singing, slowly detaching myself from reality and getting lost in the music. And then came my favorite line:

“The darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side…”

That particular line always made me emotional. I was full of darkness, I was negative. But I had Mark, and he was my light in this mess that was my life. I hadn’t realized how down I was until I wasn’t really there anymore. I didn’t expect him to “heal” or “fix” me, I just needed his help.

“What did I tell you?” he said to Jack when I had finished. “She’s incredible, right?”

My face went back to red.

“Yes, she is!” Jack agreed. “You’re really talented, Bella!”

“Thank you,” I responded.

“They’re going to love you,” Mark told me.

The next time I sang Outer Space, I had my camera on. I did it one take and just uploaded the video. I did covers every now and again on my channel. Those, along with the occasional daily vlogs, were insanely popular compared to my makeup tutorials/rants.

Mark went back to his house after I posted my video. He was always busy with whatever projects he had going on. He was script writing, preparing sketches with Matt and Ryan, editing videos, and slowly but surely working on a tour. That was mainly why I barely saw him these days, even when I stayed at his house. The only reason why it didn’t bother me that much was because I had Jack to keep me company.

Once I thought of that, it dawned on me that he wasn’t going to be here permanently. The semester ends in May, then he would be going back to Ireland. What would I do then? He was the only friend I had. I never realized how alone I was until he came along. I had fun with him. He was slowly taking me out of my shell.

I mean, yes, I had Mark. But like I said, he was always busy, and it’s considered “healthy” and “normal” to have other friends besides your boyfriend. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I was alone again.

What did I do to distract myself from my future of crippling loneliness? I isolated myself in my bathroom and washed my collection of makeup brushes. When you’re a socially anxious makeup artist who uses online shopping as a coping mechanism, that takes up a lot of time. I had barely gotten through one brand of brushes before I heard footsteps out in my room.

“Baller!” Jack called. That’s a new one.

“In here!” I replied, reached over from the sink to open the door.

He came over and saw me, tilting his head. “What are you doing?”

“Washing brushes,” I said.

“All of those?” he asked in surprise, pointing to the giant pile on the counter.

I shrugged. “I’ve been putting off cleaning them.”

“Do you need help? Looks like you’re going to be here a while.”

“Sure, if you’re not busy.”

He happily approached the counter and stood next to me by the sink. I handed him a dirty brush and showed him how to properly wash it. It was simple, and now that there were two of us doing, things were getting done faster.

“So, what got you into makeup?” he prompted after a while. “Why do you like it so much?”

Oh man.

“Are you sure you wanna hear that story?” I asked in response.

“Yes!”

I sighed. This was a tough subject. “To put it shortly, there was a point in my life where everything sucked. I mean, there’s been plenty of times where everything sucked, but this one was pretty bad. I just wanted to feel good about something, so I bought a cheap little eyeshadow palette and wore that whenever I was down. Of course, that expanded and escalated, and here I am now.”

Jack nodded. “So you wear makeup when you’re sad?”

“I used to. But now I do it because I love it and it’s fun. I actually went to beauty school and everything, but I never finished it because of YouTube.”

“Well, that’s cool.” Jack put one brush aside and picked up another. “I didn’t know it was personal, by the way, I’m sorry if I was prying or anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve wanted to make a video on why I got into makeup for a long time since I never talked about it, but I don’t want to seem depressing. Like… I want something like that to be helpful instead of just sharing my sob story.”

“It must be really serious then. Don’t worry about how you’ll sound. If you think you need to talk about it, then do it. If you think it’ll help someone, that’s even better.”

It was itching at me now that I had spoken out loud about it. I had never talked about this with anyone. Not Mark, not even my therapist. It was like a crying fit stuck in my throat and it refused to come out. Not that I particularly wanted it to, anyway.

“I’m still thinking about it,” I  concluded.

“Well, no matter what you decide,” Jack said, “you have my support.”

“Thank you.”

He was so easy to talk to. I was fighting myself not to just spill everything out and burden him with the things that I’ve done. I couldn’t expose him to how bad I really was, and I really didn’t want to tell him something that I couldn’t even tell to my boyfriend.

Ironically, Jack asked if Mark knew this deep, dark story, and I said no. I hadn’t told anyone.

“Do you think you need to talk about it?”

“Yeah, but not anytime soon.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No. It’s a thing of the past.”

~

Exams and midterms still took place. It was mainly for the students transferring to actual universities after YTU closed for good, but everybody attending still had to take them. I was never good at studying, or good at school in general, but I managed to get by.

One of my classes, English, required group work, and that was a nightmare. I was interacting with others, but I still remained friendless. My yoga class sometimes involved partner poses, but I had Jack there to help me. That was probably one reason why we got closer.

But alas, Jack was leaving soon and then things won’t be the same anymore. I had Sophie - kind of - she was more of an acquaintance. She would mostly talk and I would listen. She had plenty of other friends, and her best friend, who I had in my yoga class. I was easily replaceable.

I had Mark too, but he was spreading himself thin lately. As much as he denied it, he was slowly stressing himself out. I would try to help him, but I was afraid of making him snap. He was just busy all the time, practically leaving me alone with Jack. Maybe that was another reason I got close to him. But that’s what Mark wanted, right? He wanted me to have at least one friend so that way, he didn’t have to worry or feel guilty that he was away from me all the time. That wasn’t a bad thing, I did need friendship.

It was a typical warm day… well, it wasn’t warm to me. Jack was a bit miserable, claiming it was “hot as fucking balls.”

“This is nothing compared to the summertime,” I told him, amused. “In my hometown, it’s all desert, so you’d get the dryest heat of your life. Oh, and during the spring, it’s so windy that you’re pretty much eating dirt.”

We were both out of class early due to exams. We had extra time to kill. It was nearing five o’clock and the campus was particularly barren. I didn’t have any videos to film today, and Jack liked to film well into the night.

“Can we go to the Tube?” he asked. “I heard it’s good.”

“Really?” I asked in response, my stomach immediately flipping over.

The Tube was a diner/bar specifically for vloggers, and it was connected with the university. I had only been there once, and I ended up having a panic attack in the bathroom. That was the last time I went to a restaurant… until I started dating Mark.

“Yeah, I’ve never been there! Please?” Jack asked, giving me and exaggerated pout.

I had to give in. I didn’t want to ruin everything, even if it meant sacrificing my own comfort and mental health. We walked down the street to the diner, my jaw clenched shut from the nerves.

Jack went to order us drinks while I found us a booth. It wasn’t particularly busy today, but there were intimidating vloggers scattered here and there. Some of them were looking at Jack, who was far more known and respected than I was.

He came over to the booth with two beers and sat across from me. “I don’t know what you like, so I went with Coors.”

“That’s fine,” I said, accepting the bottle and taking a gulp. Alcohol helped me relax in social situations. “I actually don’t drink that much.” Because I never go outside, therefore I had no reason to cope-drink.

“How come?” he asked. “You strike me as someone who does shots and cocktails.”

I shook my head, chuckling a little. “Nope. The idea that a liquid can impair your thoughts and actions is a bit terrifying.” Yet it’s one of your maladaptive behaviors. Okay then, Bella.

Jack rolled his eyes, amused. “Are you a lightweight, Bellers?”

I was embarrassed by that little fact for some reason. “No…”

“Chug your beer, then.”

“iChale! No way!”

“Come on! I’ll do it with you! Look!” Without missing a beat, Jack took his own bottle and began to down it.

Fuck it. This bout of nerves and anxiety wasn’t going to go down by itself. I tipped down my beverage, though I didn’t feel any different once I finished it. Beer never really did it for me, I needed something stronger.

“You drunk yet?” Jack jokingly asked when he put down his empty bottle.

“It’s gonna take more than that, mijito,” I said back.

At one point, a waiter came by and replaced our drinks with new ones. Jack ordered some food as well, and we got settled in.

“So, how’d you meet Signe?” I asked.

“She made some art of me, and I started talking to her on Tumblr,” he replied. “There was this time where she was streaming, she was drawing a picture of me. I went onto the stream and watched a little bit, and I told her ‘you better draw me pretty.’ She told me to go fuck myself.”

I giggled. “How romantic.”

“Yeah… I really miss her.” He took another sip of his beer. “How did you and Mark meet?”

“It was here at YTU. We had some classes together, and we were partnered together on a project,” I said. “And you know me, I was super quiet and awkward. Except, when he tried to make conversation with me, I did not want to cooperate.”

“Same old Bella,” Jack commented, smiling. “So you were friends before you started dating?”

“Yeah, we only started dating in October, but we’re pretty close.”

“Do you not drink because he can’t?”

“It’s a personal choice. You’d think with all the shit I have in here-” I pointed to my head “-I’d be a raging alcoholic. But no.”

“That makes you a very strong person. I respect that.”

I smiled. “Thanks, dude! Wanna do a shot or two?”

“Sure!”

When the waiter came with our food, I managed to order two tequila shots. One bright side of my drinking-in-social-situations habit, I could do things on my own without shaking as much. However, I was still too polite and shy to say anything when we were presented with a whole plate of tequila shots.

Jack was giggling once the waiter had gone. “Is this what you ordered?”

I hesitated. “I did say a shot or two…”

“Oh, tiny little Baller. Ready?” He took one small glass and held it up.

I took a deep breath and held up my own. “Let’s do this. To… friendship?”

“To friendship!”

And down went the first shot.

It burned my throat, but not enough to make me want to throw it back up. It just made me want to drink more. I was feeling better and more free as the alcohol set into my system. More people entered the diner, and I wasn’t plagued with the urge to hide in the bathroom. But if I did feel that, then I had more tequila to help me out with that.

I looked through my phone at one point, some time after emptying two more shot glasses. I was making sure I didn’t receive any texts from Mark. As usual, I had no new notifications, so I scrolled on Tumblr, and my heart began to burst.

“Jack,” I said urgently. “I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me,” he replied, leaning forward in his seat. His cheeks were flushed.

“You fans are so fucking nice, dude. I love them.”

“I know! Thank you! They’re being nice to you?”

“They’re drawing fanart, and they say my makeup is pretty!” I could have cried in that moment. “They also have this funny idea that we should be together.”

“That's called shipping,” Jack pointed out.

“I know, I'm just thinking,” I said, “maybe the shippers are going to my head or something.” I hesitated. “Do you think if you didn't have Signe, and I didn't have Mark, that we…” I let my sentence finish itself.

He actually considered it, looking at his empty shot glass with a lot of thought. “I don't know. I can't imagine myself with anyone but Signe. You and me? Maybe… in another life probably.”

“Another story,” I added. “Una historia de otros nosotros.”

“I'm going to pretend like I understood that.” Jack chuckled. “Do you actually think we could work?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, we're complete opposites, but maybe that's not a bad thing. You bring out my happy, energetic side, and I…”

“You teach me how to shut the fuck up,” Jack continued. “No but really, you taught me more about anxiety.”

“You make me want to be a better person,” I said, my words slurring a little bit. “You’ve made me feel less lonely. God, you're such a nice, good person Jack! I don't deserve a friend like you!”

“Aw, you're so sweet, Baller!” he replied. “I'm glad we're friends on some level, y'know? Sure, in another story we could be more than that, but I'm happy where we are right now. Besties, and nothing more.”

“Exactly! We should get bracelets or something...” I could have cried, this was such a nice moment. I really did love Jack, as much as you can love a good friend.

“If you and Mark ever break up, I'm still hanging out with you,” he said. “That's how close I think we are.”

“Bros before hoes doesn't apply to me?”

“You're a bro! The best bro, queen of the bros!”

“You sound like Felix.” I giggled.

“Maybe that's a sign we've had too much to drink. Let's call someone, shall we?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” I pulled out my phone, somehow managing to dial Mark.

“Bellaboo!” he greeted upon answering.

“Hi Markimoo!” I greeted back, giggling like a little girl. “My love, my life, my wife!”

He chuckled on the other line. “Where are you?”

“Me and the Jack decided to have special friend time,” I explained. “We’re having fun, but maybe too much fun. There was tequila involved.”

“Oh, I understand. Can you drive, babe?”

Everything he was saying was funny. “I don’t think so. Could you be the bestest, sweetest person ever and pick us up? Estamos cerca del universidad, si sabes?”

“English, honey,” he told me.

“Y’know that one bar, restaurant, thing by campus? That’s where you’ll find me and my son.”

“Jack is your son now?” Mark laughed.

“Yes, I adopted him, and we’re raising him together! Right, Jack?”

“Right!” he replied even though he didn’t hear what me and Mark were talking about.

“Okay, I’ll be right there, baby,” Mark told me.

“Thank yooouu, I love yoouu,” I sang before hanging up.

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