#the shirt outlines are just janky as fuck

[homestuck-iconz]

Could I request matching Bro Strider and Dadbert icons? (With a orange theme for bro and a light blue theme for dad)

Apologies in advance if I didn't understand something/forgot something!

MATCHING BRO AND DADBERT ICONS !!!

listen i have no clue where the 3d model of bro is from ??? i just kinda found him and went "Ah Yes That Will Do Nicely"

[aclosetfan]

Parasomnias

Summary: Three foster brothers–Brick, Boomer, and Butch–are relocated to Townsville and are less than happy about their new placement. When a group of their “strictly-out-of-necessity” friends take them to the old “haunted” preschool, they don’t blink an eye. They’re a product of the foster care system, how could they possibly be afraid of an old nursery rhyme? (They will admit, though, that the killer doppelgängers are slightly concerning)

genre: horror/suspense/friendship content warning: cursing, underage intoxication, gore, body horror, child neglect (alluded to, not specified), insomnia, demonic horror

a/n: I always forget the rest of the world solely uses the metric system. In America, you learn both the imperial and metric system (why? —the industrial revolution is to blame). In this chapter, I describe a length as 100 feet, to save you all the trouble that’s about 30-31 meters. At this distance, people need to shout to communicate. Could I just change it to meters and make it easier on everyone? Sure. Am I going to? No, there’s no fun in that.

Also, yall wouldn’t believe how long it took to find a reference to the pppk mirror. I was happy to find that the actual shape of the dresser-part of their vanity really worked for my purposes. Here is the punks og comic btws with the vanity clearly in the panels!!

story navigation: one two three four five six

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CHAPTER 2: pride dines on vanity

“There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.” - Bram Stoke

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Compared to the rat-infested nightmare they had just been wasting their time in, Brick thought the janky wooden hut in front of them could hardly be called imposing, let alone "cursed." The shed blended in well with the surrounding tree-line, but overgrown foliage aside, it looked more well maintained than the preschool did. Sure, the wood of its walls was worn and weathered, and the glass of the tiny windows was covered in thick dust and cobwebs, but the structure as a whole seemed relatively untouched with no vandalism in sight. Even the air around it seemed free of malice or ill-will, which Brick had always figured lingered around haunted places—if "haunted" places actually existed.

Which they didn't. People were just gullible.

Boomer's eyes were wide when he stepped in Brick's way. "Okay, dude," He squeaked, his voice cracking and making Brick cringe, "this isn't funny anymore. Let's just go."

"I'm not being funny." Brick glared at the shed, tracing its' outline with his eyes before blurting out, "How the fuck are we supposed to get in if there's no goddamn door!"

"Ya gotta look between the two bushes!" Pablo yelled back.

Brick stared at the building again—the permitter of which was entirely lined with overgrown bushes—and then whipped his head around to glower at the other boys who stood about one hundred feet behind them.

"How the fuck is that helpful!" He shouted, "Just show us!"

Harry cupped his hands around his mouth, "Fuck that! You've got eyes! Use them!"

"Yeah, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, right? Figure it out!" Mitch's yelling joined the mix.

"Just keep going straight!" Pablo yelled, "You'll be fine—well, aside from the whole cursed thing!"

He ignored how they laughed, flicking them off before turning back to the shed.

"This is so stupid." He bemoaned to his brothers, pushing into the foliage, "I swear if I get any ticks because of this, they're dead."

"Brick," Boomer latched onto his shirt as he dug around in the bushes, "come on, please, let's just go, okay? Like, you saw the twins, I know you did. I don't wanna mess—"

"If you wanna be a pussy—ah-ha!" He smiled as his hand latched onto a doorknob, "—if you wanna be a pussy about it, Boomer, go stand with the rest of them, I don't care. If not," Brick fixed his pouting brother with a glare, "stop crying and help me with this bush."

Boomer looked back at the other boys before turning back to him, "Fine. But if we become mirror zombies, I'm going to be really pissed off."

"We're not going to become mirror—hold it back like this," He instructed Boomer, who held part of the large bush to the side, allowing them to see the warped wooden door, "good, stay like that—like I was saying, we're not going to be mirror zombies." Then, he snorted, "It's all fake."

"If we know it's fake, then why do we have to do this?" Boomer argued, his voice rising in octave, his voice only slightly muffled by the shrubbery.

Brick turned the knob and pushed against the door, but with a frown, he realized it was stuck. The door was more warped than he had initially anticipated. He knocked on it, looking for a weak spot.

"We're not going to let a bunch of six-year-old girls outdo us." He finally answered Boomer.

"This is about the girls!" Boomer let go of the branches, and in an unstoppable flurry, they all slapped against him.

"Hey!" He cried, tumbling over, choking on a mouthful of leaves. His face bloomed as laughter erupted behind them. He kicked at his brother's ankles, "Asshole! What gives!"

Boomer ignored him and went on ranting, throwing his hands into the air, "Brick, those girls don't even know we exist! Why would they even care, let alone know, we were here!"

Brick glowered, picking himself off the ground and wiping the dirt from his pants. "It's the principle of it, Boomer." He spat, "Now either stay or go. I don't need you here."

"I'm not going to let you die!" Boomer proclaimed, "I'm not going to let you be a mirror kid like—like Harry's brother! I can't deal with that!" Then, Boomer's hands tangled in his hair, pulling on the blond locks, "I don't know pig Latin!"

"It's not real!" Brick countered, "It's all fake! Just a stupid story, and the moment we prove that to everyone, the moment they shut up!"

"But what if it is real!"

"It's not, idiot!" Brick pried the branches of the bush away from the door by himself, "It's not, and if you aren't going to help me, then leave already! I don't need someone like you mucking shit up and getting in my way!"

"Someone like me?" Boomer echoed quietly, hurt evident in his voice, "What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

Brick didn't answer. In fact, he hadn't even meant to say what he had said in the first place. Instead, he swallowed the guilt and ignored the two sets of eyes on his back, "Just shut up, Boomer."

And Boomer, like Boomer always did—because he was the only one who ever really listened—went quiet. Then, a second later, Boomer took the bundle of branches he was wrestling away from the door and held them back, glaring a hole into the grass and dirt Brick had just previously landed in. Brick floundered a moment, taking in the glare that should have been aimed directly at him, and hated himself a little because of it, but steeled his expression and looked back at the door.

"It's just a stupid shed," He grunted as he slammed shoulder first into the door. When it didn't budge an inch, he huffed and repeated the process.

"I know we're not listening to me anymore," Boomer snapped after Brick's fifth attempt, hardly looking up from the ground, "but I think we should take this as a sign."

Brick glared over his shoulders at his brothers before zeroing in on Butch. "Would ya mind?" He asked through gritted teeth, gesturing to the door.

Butch glared back—probably for Boomer's sake because Butch had always loved Boomer more than him—and stepped forward, shouldering him out of the way. Butch hit the door handle with two solid kicks, splintering the old wood around the handle lock, loosening it up. Then, happy with those results, he twisted the knob and slammed the door open with his shoulder. He presented the opening to Brick with an obnoxious bow, stepping away, so he could enter the shed first.

Brick didn't pay the gesture any attention, stomping past his older brother into the shed with a huffy, "I loosened it up for ya."

He listened as Butch huffed back but was focused more solely on the interior of the shed. It wasn't any more impressive than the exterior. It was dusty, old, and dark. He pulled the flashlight Harry had handed him out of his pocket and flicked it on. The dull beam did little to illuminate the place, but it was more than nothing.

He panned the light towards each corner of the room, quickly darting it around.

"See, just a shed," Brick heard himself murmuring, examining dusty shelves with old gardening supplies and a long-abandoned workbench with one lone bucket resting on top of it. One corner had an old broom with a chunk of bristles missing from it, propped up next to a rusty shovel. Near the door, there were three miscellaneous buckets stacked on top of each other. Finally, an old vanity-shaped piece of furniture was opposite the door, covered by a thick white tarp. Brick assumed that under the tarp was the infamous mirror.

Boomer sneezed next to him, interrupting the quiet, and Brick brought his hands to his ears to block out the sound of the next three sneezes that followed the first.

"Sorry," his brother whispered, itching his nose, "dusty."

Brick grumbled a quick "it's fine" under his breath and moved forward into the shed, deciding that he had already been enough of an asshole to Boomer for one day. The shed wasn't the smallest room in the world—it could likely fit a small twin-sized bed and have room to spare—but it still felt cramped, especially with three people.

Together the three of them made their way to the vanity.

"Looks like someone's been here recently," Brick pointed out, flashing the light towards the wooden floor. In the dust and dirt there were close-to-fresh footprints, where one foot seemed to drag with every other step. Considering how hard it has been to open the door, it was odd.

"Trash too," Boomer whispered with shallow breaths next to him, pointing towards the leftover hostess pastry wrappers, "I don't like this."

Brick frowned. It was just footprints and trash, but even he couldn't deny the eerie feeling that began to creep up his spine. Everything was so mundane, but the more he stood in it, the longer that feeling stretched into a new, more frightening territory.

Suddenly, the door behind them swung shut. The three of them jumped in unison, and Brick whipped around, shining his light every which way to search for the possible intruder. When the light caught on a figure, Boomer let out a sharp gasp.

"L-look," He snatched the light away and pointed it directly at the door, where a spray-painted smiling lobster man smiled down at them. It was almost identical to the one in the preschool, except this one's head cocked to the side in amusement. It stood with its arms spread wide, lobster claws open, as if barring the exit, while little stick figure children—all holding hands in a circle—seemed to "dance" around its feet.

HIM, they chanted. The sound of their high-pitched chants filled Brick’s head as his stare locked with the gaze of the lobsterman. HIM! HIM! They began to screech, their volume growing close to unbearable—but that was impossible, right? It was a painting. He couldn't actually hear them chanting—

"HIM," Boomer read with a swallow, "Let's leave."

Brick startled, ripping his eyes from the acidic stare of the graffiti portrait. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned away from the picture towards the tarp. It had to of been his imagination, the beer he drank, the now-intense headache pounding behind his eyes; Brick heard a lot of sounds, sounds other people couldn't, but he couldn't hear a picture. That was impossible.

"N-no," Brick shook his head again, pressing his fingers against his temples, "it's just a—some stupid picture."

"Just a picture?" Boomer's voice was close to shrill, "Just like how this is just a shed? Dude, come on!"

Brick squeezed his eyes shut, the pounding in his head painful enough to make him puke. "Stop—" he choked out, "let's just—get this over with."

A hand landed on the base of his neck, and he tensed before registering that it was just Butch, massaging some of the tension away. His older brother stared at him with a frown, but he shoved him off.

"I'm fine, I—let's just get this over with." He repeated, reaching for the tarp in front of him and tugging it off. He tossed the fabric away, letting it flutter to the ground, and allowing the three of them to finally get a look at the fabled mirror.

It was a vanity, just as he had guessed—a woman's vanity with peeling, faded light pink tarnish. The antique didn't belong in the shed but in an old-timey powder room with its feminine charm and large heart-shaped mirror.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the furniture, almost waiting for something to pop out, but as the seconds ticked by and nothing continued to happen, he again began to relax.

"What's all over the mirror?" Boomer shone the flashlight onto the vanity, leaning forward to get a better look but not daring to step an inch closer, "It's all smudged."

Butch took a brave step forward, squinting against the light reflecting off the mirror.

"Blood." Came his raspy voice, "Bloody fingerprints."

"What!" Boomer squeaked, "Blood?"

"I guess Harry wasn't lying," Brick stepped forward too, examining the fingerprints in full. They covered close to every inch of the mirror; there was hardly a free spot left without a small rusty-looking fingerprint smudging the surface. From the number of fingerprints, it was apparent how popular this place was—no wonder there were footprints and trash. Vaguely, he wondered where the three girls' fingerprints were, searching for tiny children-shaped ones, but it was futile. There were too many.

Butch pointed to the candle melted to the slight dip in the middle of the vanity's dresser. The candle's wax had dripped down the front of the vanity, but for all the wax the candle had lost, the candle itself seemed only half used. It was plain, white, and its wick was a burnt black.

"Well," Brick spoke again, gesturing for the flashlight, "now, where's the phrase? Unless Trailer Trash was right too."

Reluctantly, Boomer handed it over, all kinds of anxiety written on his face. Brick could see in the backlight that his lips were pressed tight and thin with eyes transfixed on their reflections—or maybe just the bloody fingerprints. In the mirror, Brick glanced at Butch's reflection. He seemed only slightly on edge, glancing every now and then over their shoulders, which Brick was admittedly glad for; he didn't think he could look back over at the lobsterman until they left.

With the flashlight in hand, he began pulling open the drawers of the vanity, but nothing of interest revealed itself. Just a few lingering bobby pins, likely from the lady who had once owned this mirror. His frown deepened as he continued to look, shining the flashlight around. He was with Mitch—this was obviously just another scary story—but he was loathed to admit that Trailer Trash had actually been right, that there was no magic phrase or whatever. The older boy pissed him off to no end.

He stared at the fading varnish and then looked around the little shed, careful to avoid the lobsterman, but still ended up with nothing.

With a sigh, he shared a look with his brothers, "There's noth—" His flashlight passed along the top of the mirror, and the way the light caught on the peeling varnish made him pause "—wait."

"Oh jeez," Boomer let out a breath, "no. Please don't say—"

"I found something."

"—that." Boomer deflated, "Please don't say that."

He stepped closer to the mirror, trailing the light along the rim of it, "See, here on the edge, the paint isn't peeling. It was scratched." He ran his finger around the heart, feeling along the gouged wood, "They're words." He stood back and nodded, "Butch, hold the light while I make 'em out. Boomer, write 'em down, so we don't forget."

"I don't have my bookbag," Boomer squeaked, ignoring the long look Brick directed towards the bookbag Boomer was always carrying around.

"The longer it takes, the longer we're here." He deadpanned.

"I think I found my bookbag, guys, no worries," Boomer responded a millisecond later, pulling his bookbag off one of his shoulders to rummage around for paper.

Brick turned back to the mirror, tracing the letters, "Alright M-I-R-R-O-R, that's mirror," He waited for Boomer to scratch it down before moving to the next. It continued like that until, finally, they reached the other end of the heart.

"—and it ends with another mirror." Brick stepped away, "It's like a nursery rhyme."

Butch nodded in agreement.

"A bad nursery rhyme," Brick added after a beat, taking a jab at the writer, "read it back to us Boom."

"What! No way!" Boomer threw the paper towards him, "It's bad enough I had to write it down, but say it? I don't have the death wish you do."

"Fine," He snapped back, swiping the paper from Boomer, "Butch, a little light?"

Butch stepped closer, aiming the flashlight over his shoulder.

"Mirror, Mirror," Brick read off quickly, "let them draw near. As we peer, make them clear. Our faults, our fears, bring them here, oh dear, Mirror, Mirror."

He frowned and shared a look with Butch, "What does any of that even mean?"

Butch shrugged, glancing back at the mirror, then down at the paper.

Once more, silence settled into the space between them before he cleared his throat and spoke up, "Well, okay, let's get this done then. I got a light," He announced, pulling a lighter low on fluid out of his pocket. It took three tries for it to light before he could bring it to the candle. Once lit, the candle produced a strong flame, but it did little to really light up the place; instead, its' flame only made the bloody fingerprints more pronounced.

"Butch, ya got your pocket knife?" He asked, and Butch nodded, pulling it out of his back pocket and flicking it open.

"Light the candle, prick your finger, touch the glass, and say the phrase," Brick repeated the instructions out loud, "it's been easy so far. Turn off the flashlight."

"For real?" Boomer asked with a groan, "Why?"

Brick shrugged, "we gotta do it right. Just the candle."

"We really don't, though." Boomer argued, but Butch nodded and flicked the light off.

And as Brick had guessed, the candlelight was definitely not strong enough to calm any of his sudden nerves. The only thing in the tiny shed that was now illuminated was the fingerprinted mirror. All he could think about was the lobsterman behind them, watching their backs as they stood in the semi-darkness.

"Okay," He spoke before he could lose his nerve completely, "now the fingerprints."

Butch nodded, pricking his finger and passing the knife to him. He poked the sharp end of the blade into his pointer finger and watched a few tiny drops of blood spring out. The sting went away quickly as he passed the knife over to Boomer.

"Hurry before the blood dries," He instructed, but Boomer still hesitated. With a quiet sigh, he began to pull the knife away, the guilt from earlier rising up in his gut once again, "Listen, you don't have to do it if you really don't want to."

Boomer's eyes shot up from the knife to look him straight in the face, his stare narrowing, expression steeling, as he gestured for the knife, "I'm not going to let you two go die on your own, so might as well do it together. Don't want to be a pussy about it, right?"

"Right," He looked away sheepishly, an apology resting somewhere on his tongue.

"Then let's do this," Boomer pricked his finger and pressed it to the mirror, "but for the record, nothing about this is good. I don't like the way ­its' looking at us in the mirror." He nodded his head at their reflections, and for the first time, Brick noticed how the lobsterman seemed to float behind them in the mirror; its grotesque amused smile had only seemed to grow wider in the mere minutes since his last look at the graffiti. Again, he tore his gaze away before he could become lost in its' eyes once more and focused on finding a spot to place his finger.

"We’ve all got to say it, so just repeat after me," Brick looked over at Butch, who with a displeased sigh, gave him a curt nod in the affirmative. With the three of them in agreement, Brick cleared his throat and held the paper close to the candlelight. Instead of looking at 'HIM’ in the mirror, he chose to focus on his own reflection as he slowly began to read off the words, "Mirror, Mirror, let them draw near—"

"—Mirror, Mirror, let them draw near—" His brothers repeated just as slowly, their voices low.

"—As we peer, make them clear—"

"—As we peer, make them clear—"

"—Our faults, our fears, bring them here—" He continued, staring at himself until his eyes unfocused and his reflection began to warp into something else not entirely human-looking.

"—Our faults, our fears, bring them here—"

"—oh dear, Mirror, Mirror—"

"—oh dear, Mirror, Mirror." Came the end of their hair-raising call and response. He blinked, and his eyes focused again, chasing away the horrid and broken image of himself.

Together, the three of them waited a moment with bated breath for something to happen, but when nothing did, Brick tsked.

"See," He looked between his brothers, avoiding the four reflections in front of them, "nothing. Just like I said."

He blew the candle out before Butch could flick the flashlight back on, but in that millisecond before the darkness overtook them, he could have sworn he had made eye contact with his smiling reflection.

But Brick hadn't been smiling.

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 7 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

Fic summary: A cliche lesbian AU. It’s the summer before Gigi goes to college, and she decides it’s time to take a job at a local amusement park. There, she meets Crystal, a beautiful girl that she with bonds over the anxiety of the service industry. Almost immediately, Gigi gets it BAD for Crystal. Meanwhile, Jackie definitely ISN’T gay. She likes men. Only. Men. What happens when a beautiful girl named Jan comes into the picture? And lastly, Nicky flirts with anything with a pulse. Jaida falls for anyone who gives her attention. This is going to be one interesting summer

Chapter summary: If anyone knows how to party, it’s the staff of Paradise Isle. When Brita turns 21, she’s determined to have the biggest party Paradise Isle has ever seen.

A/N: Hi everyone! I officially outlined the rest of the fic so it’s going to be 10 chapters total, three more to go!!

By the time Gigi made it down the exit ramp, all she wanted to do was leave. She heard Jan behind her, but kept moving forward. Her heart beat was pounding in her ears and she began to feel warm tears form in her eyes.

“Gigi, wait!” Jan called.

Gigi didn’t listen and instead kept walking. Jan managed to chase her all the way into The Landing until Gigi stopped dead in her tracks, rested her face in her hands and started crying. Wordlessly, Jan went up to her and wrapped her in a gentle embrace. Once Gigi broke away, Jan led them to a bench, and stayed quiet. She knew Gigi was about to explode at any second.

And she was right.

“How could she do that? What the hell? If she didn’t want to see me, she could have just fucking said something! I have no idea what the hell I did to her and why she’s acting the way she is, but I guess fuck my feelings! Right? Just fuck them!” Gigi threw her hands up in frustration before crying into Jan’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jan cooed rubbing Gigi’s hair. She knew Gigi’s mascara was staining her shirt, but it was something she could worry about later.

“How could she?” Gigi’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know, baby. There’s no way to know what’s running through her bizarre little head.”

Gigi wiped her eyes, trying to salvage what was left of her makeup. “I’m overreacting.”

“No, you aren’t. You need to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling. Your feelings are valid and you’re entitled to them,” Jan said firmly.

“I want to hate her.”

“Why?”

Gigi sighed. “I want to hate her, because that means I wouldn’t be in love with her anymore.”

“Wow,” Jan began. “I didn’t realize you were in that deep.”

“Jan, it’s bad.”

“Sounds like it.”

“If I could just hate her, I could be done and move on. I hate that when I see her pictures on Instagram with her shitty boyfriend, all I can do is think about how I wish it was me. I hate that she’s the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. I just want to hate her.”

“Do you honestly believe do any good?” Jan questioned.

Gigi mulled it over and sighed. “No. What am I going to do?”

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Gigi, but I don’t. But, we can figure out what we’re doing tonight. Do you want to leave, or do you want to keep hanging out with everyone? After the look I gave her and what I said to her, I don’t think she’ll come anywhere near you anytime.”

Gigi looked stunned. “Jan what the hell did you tell her?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jan winked.

“I’m not going to let her ruin my night.” Gigi’s tone was determined. “Let’s go.”

–

Nicky and Jaida were awkwardly left behind in the queue. Since they were next, they ended up going on the roller coaster. Jaida had to admit, a roller coaster was a lot less fun when one of your friends was experiencing emotional trauma, even if you were in the front.

“Should we go find them?” Nicky asked as she grabbed her purse.

Jaida thought for a moment and said, “Honestly? I don’t want to make it worse. Gigi trusts Jan and I want Gigi to talk through all the emotional shit she’s feeling.”

“Good point.”

Jaida and Nicky made their way through The Backlands. Jaida knew that she had feelings for Nicky that Nicky didn’t share. Jaida also knew that every time they slept together, she felt herself falling a little harder. As much as Jaida didn’t want to break her own heart for her final summer at the park, she swore something felt different about Nicky.

As they walked, Jaida swung her hand forward making contact with Nicky’s to test her response.

“Sorry,” Nicky mumbled putting her hand closer to her side.

The response is not the one Jaida was looking for, which caused her to sigh.

Nicky slowed her pace. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jaida forced a smile. “Just tired.”

“Gotcha.”

Jaida wondered how dense Nicky could be. Even though Jaida couldn’t be mad that Nicky didn’t return her feelings, it still frustrated her. While Jaida knew it was a horrible idea to keep going with their fling, she liked Nicky so much that she’d rather have her physically than not at all.

 Or did she?

This wasn’t healthy for her mental state. Jaida had enough on her plate already. Between writing essay after essay for law schools throughout the country as well as working six days a week, Jaida was nearing her limit. As much as she tried to tell herself that her fling with Nicky helped her decompress, she knew that wasn’t the case. It made everything much, much worse. Before she could think on it further, she was interrupted by her phone vibrating with a text from Jan.

so I honestly cant tell if gigi’s more hurt or pissed at crystal and honestly it really doesnt matter but she did say she wants to keep the night to keep going so I say let’s do it! we’re at the landing rn, where are you??

Quickly, Jaida reiterated to Nicky the situation, and texted back, Okay, good! We’ll meet you there.

The rest of the night was filled with memorable selfies, laughs that were mostly at the extent of Jan’s inability to ride roller coasters, and by the end of the night, Gigi felt great, and was determined to not let one person ruin what was already an incredible summer.  

Following National Roller Coaster Day, Jaida, Nicky, Jan, and Gigi bonded even further, and became inseparable. Through hanging out with Jan, Gigi also developed a very close bond with Jackie. Gigi never had a group of friends before, and was thankful she had such an amazing group of friends.

Gigi formed such a close bond with her friends that she all but forgot about Crystal. At times, they ran into each other in the break room, and every time, they didn’t so much as look at each other. While the environment was tense, there was never any negativity. No one was outwardly mean to each other. In fact, everyone but Gigi maintained being friendly with Crystal. Gigi couldn’t allow this to upset her, since they were all adults and could choose their friends. At times though, it did feel like a punch in the gut when Gigi was on her breaks and saw Jan stop to talk to Crystal.

One day, Gigi sat in the breakroom. As she at her lunch, Brita sat across from her.

“Hey, Brita,” Gigi greeted.

“As you know, my birthday is drawing near.”

All Brita talked about was how she was going to turn twenty one in a couple of weeks. Everyone knew it was Brita’s birthday, including people who didn’t even know Brita.

“So I’ve heard!”

“My parents are actually going to be out of town. So, I’m going to have a party. Not just any party. No, this party is going to be so big and so memorable that they’ll be talking about this like five summers from now.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Brita nodded. “I’m inviting literally everyone I know who works here…”

Gigi caught on to what Brita was saying. Even the people who weren’t well versed in what happened between Gigi and Crystal knew something was wrong. “That’s fine, Brita. I’m not going to let my relationship, or lack thereof, with someone ruin your birthday.”

“Good. It’s this Wednesday, starting at 10. That way everyone has time to get ready after work. Thank god for shortened park hours.”

The scheduling gods smiled upon Jaida, Nicky, Gigi, and Jackie. Somehow they all ended up with the same days off, one of which being Friday. It helped that Jaida always sweet talked the scheduler, and the scheduler knew who her friends were. Jaida wasn’t about using her feminine charm to get what she wanted.

The girls all agreed to get ready at Gigi’s, because she had the largest space. Getting ready with others was much more fun for Gigi than getting ready alone. Although, she had to admit it was a different feeling when she and Crystal got ready together for Heidi’s party. She forced that thought out of her head as she put on an 80’s playlist. Deciding what to wear to a party was Gigi’s favorite part of getting ready. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wanted this party to be the exact opposite as the previous party. Because of this, Gigi opted to wear a tight orange halter top with an blue high-waisted shorts, which was the exact opposite of her black and white outfit.

“You look like your room,” Jan teased eyeing Gigi’s room decor. 

Gigi rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that my two favorite colors look amazing on me.”

“Fair,” Jaida mused as she rummaged through her bag. “Shit. I forgot my eyelash glue.”

Nicky, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground blending out a smoky eye tossed hers to Jaida. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Jaida smiled sweetly expertly applying an eyelash.

Jackie looked on incredulously. “I have no idea how you do it.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Jaida said as she batted her eyelashes in Jackie’s direction.

“Do you ever wear more than mascara and eyeliner in your waterline?” Nicky questioned, admiring her appearance in a hand mirror.

Jackie shook her head. “I just… don’t know how to do anything else. One time I tried to do wings and it looked like a drunk toddler did them. No wait, a drunk toddler would have done better.“

Jan’s face brightened. “Can I please do your makeup? Please?”

After hesitating, Jackie said, “What the hell. Why not?”

Jan squealed as she made her way over to Jackie, who was sitting in the chair at Gigi’s desk. Watching Jan do Jackie’s makeup made Gigi feel a pang of jealousy. All through high school, she’d never had the desire to date. Of course, she definitely didn’t want a boyfriend. But, she never thought about having a girlfriend either, and only knew that she liked girls. She also never had a friend group like the one she had now. She also never thought she’d have a group of friends she could trust as much as she trusted the friends she made. For once in her life, Gigi felt safe enough to come out. Other than her family, Jan was the only person who knew, and the only reason she’d told Jan in the first place was because she was about to have a mental breakdown. But, it was time. Gigi paused the playlist.

“Everything okay, Gigi?” Nicky questioned.

Gigi took a breath. “Yes, but there’s something I have to tell all of you.”

Jan locked eyes with Gigi, already knowing what she was going to say.

“What is it?” Jaida asked setting down her brush.

“I like girls.”

Jaida ran to Gigi to give her a hug. “We love you.”

Jan laughed. “Welcome to the club.”

As Gigi unpaused the music, she breathed a sigh of relief as she topped her nude lip with gloss.

“All done!” Jan announced as she brushed powder off of Jackie’s face.

Once Gigi saw Jackie, she exclaimed, “Oh, wow.”

Jackie was already an extremely beautiful girl, but Jan’s handiwork enhanced her features. Because she knew that Jackie wasn’t one for the extravagant, Jan stuck with neutrals that gave Jackie the most effortless no-makeup-makeup look. Gigi knew that Jan was a talented makeup artist, but the makeup she did on Jackie proved it, because it was the exact opposite of Jan’s colorful halo eye she did on herself.

“Holy shit! I look good.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “You always look good, baby.”

“Thank you,” Jackie said as she kissed Jan on the cheek.

“We must commemorate this momentous occasion,” Jaida said dramatically as she signaled everyone to come in for a group photo.

“You have to take it,” Nicky said. “You have the longest arms.”

Jaida rolled her eyes. “Always.”

Once there were a few photos they were all satisfied with Gigi looked at her phone. “If we need to make a liquor run, we should probably leave now.”

Everyone piled in to Gigi’s Jeep, the group was enthusiastically discussing the night ahead. On the way to the liquor store, Jaida, who was already twenty one, made a list of what she had to purchase.

“Y’all are gonna make me look like I have a drinking problem. You best be Venmo-ing me interest,” she teased.

“We don’t have interest in France, I don’t know what that is,” Nicky joked.

Jaida playfully hit her. “You’ve lived here for over ten years.”

 Nicky shushed her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jesus Christ, just kiss already,” Gigi teased as she pulled into the liquor store’s parking lot.

Once Jaida was inside the store, Jan spoke up. “What’s actually going on between you two?”

Nicky shrugged. “Just something for us to blow off some steam.”

Jackie hesitated. “Nicky, you realize that Jaida’s never had a girlfriend before.”

“Yeah, and?”

“She also falls really hard really quickly.”

Nicky exhaled. “She never told me that. She told me that she was good keeping it casual. She tried to bring it up a while ago, but I just thought… I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault, honey,” Jan said.

Before Nicky could respond, Jaida returned to the car.

“That was fast,” Gigi said.

“I’ve been to that store so many times, I know where everything is.”

Gigi had heard from other people that Brita had a large house, but she didn’t expect it to be quite so big. The driveway which was lined with cars spanned the length of most people’s front yards. The house looked to be three stories and was a modern build, which was a contrast to the other ranch-style houses in the area. The music could be heard from outside of the house, and Gigi mused about how Brita was lucky that she had no neighbors.

“Damn,” Gigi said as she shut her car door.

“Yeah,” Jaida began. “Brita’s parents are fucking loaded.”

“Clearly,” Jan said.

The inside of the house was just as grandiose as the outside. Gigi thought that it looked like the sample rooms inside of furniture stores. She didn’t realize that people’s houses actually could look like that. The living room was decorated with fairy lights and streamers, and in the corner were two gold balloons that said 21. The party was already abuzz, the entirety of the first floor was full of people, most of which Gigi didn’t recognize, and was almost certain Brita probably didn’t either.

Brita greeted them at the door, pulling them into a hug. Gigi could already smell the alcohol. “Hi, babes!”

“Happy birthday, bitch!” Jaida exclaimed handing Brita a fifth of Everclear.

Brita’s laugh was loud enough that it could be heard over the music. “You rotted bitch.”

“On our first season together, Brita drank way too much Everclear and got super hungover, and had to call out the next day,” Jaida explained. “You best be getting that drunk again tonight. If I see you at work tomorrow, I’m going to be pissed.“

“I have tomorrow off,” Brita said smugly.

“You’re going to need it,” Jan teased.

“Thanks! So over there we have a photobooth, beer pong in the dining room, the pool’s available if you want, too. Oh, and if you need a place to get down and dirty,” she looked at Nicky and Jaida. “Just don’t use my bedroom.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jaida said, rolling her eyes.

As everyone was about to explore, Brita screeched, “Wait!”

“What?” Gigi asked.

“Let’s do a shot of this.” Brita raised the bottle of Everclear.

“Oh dear, God,” Jackie said making gagging noises.

“It’s my birthday, bitches!”

Since nobody could argue with that, they went in to the kitchen. In the attached dining room, an intense game of beer pong was going down with Widow and Heidi against Crystal and some boy Gigi vaguely recognized as being one of the team leads in games. Trying to stay casual, Gigi waved to Heidi and Widow who smiled in return. Thankfully, Crystal’s back was turned to Gigi, and by the time she turned, Gigi had her back turned to take the shot.

“I’m already too drunk to pour the shots,” Brita slurred.

Jaida rolled her eyes as she took the bottle and expertly poured shots.

“To Brita!” Gigi said raising her glass.

“To Brita!” Everyone repeated as they toasted, set the shot on the table, and took the shot.

Gigi thought she was good at taking shots. But, Gigi had also never had Everclear. Convinced that its reputation preceded it, she didn’t properly prepare herself. She thought she was just taking a shot of cheap vodka, not a shot of rubbing alcohol.

“Merde!” Nicky exclaimed.

Jackie set her glass down as she winced. “That was so bad, Nicky forgot how to speak English!”

Because she couldn’t get the taste of shitty vodka out of her mouth, the only thing Gigi could do was to drink something else. The Whiteclaw Jaida bought for her tasted like juice in comparison, so much so that Gigi drank it a lot faster than she should have.

As Gigi felt the alcohol hit, Jan said, “Let’s go take pictures.”

Most of the time, Gigi found photobooths to be tacky. They were a staple of boring weddings and basic-ass graduation parties. But, because she already had a nice buzz going, she gladly posed with oversized sunglasses. 

Everyone sat on a red leather couch as they began drinking. Jan and Jackie shared a bottle of rum that they chased with Diet Coke. Jaida was chasing her Jack with ginger ale. Nicky, on the other hand, was shooting whiskey like there was no tomorrow. Gigi felt lame that everyone else wad drinking liquor but her, but she didn’t care. She wanted to enjoy what she was drinking.

When a Madonna song began playing, the girls screeched and made their way to the dancefloor. Gigi had decent rhythm, but tonight, as far as she was concerned, she was killing it. As she dropped low, she almost fell, but kept her balance as she made her way back up. While she watched Jackie and Jan dancing closely and watched Nicky grind against Jaida, Gigi couldn’t help but feel like a fifth wheel. She remedied the situation by cracking open another Whiteclaw. 

“I need a break,” Nicky announced when the song ended.

Jan whispered something in Jackie’s ear before saying, “We’ll be back!”

“May I have this dance, Ms. Hall?” Gigi asked holding her hand out.

“Oh, bitch, you know it.”

After a few songs, Gigi announced, “I’ll be back!”

It was the time of the night that Gigi needed to break her seal. Unfortunately for her, there was a line for the bathroom. She dramatically jumped up and down until she made it to the bathroom. Once she finished, she was greeted by a sobbing Jaida.

“Jaida, what the fuck is wrong?” Gigi asked leading her into a bedroom upstairs.

“Nicky,” Jaida managed.

“What about Nicky?”

“I went to go find her to see if she wanted to dance or something, but then… I saw her… and I saw Brita. On the couch… making out.”

It was very clear that Jaida had too much to drink. For a while, Gigi was convinced that this year would break the streak of Jaida getting her heart broken. Even though Gigi wanted to give Jaida some tough love and tell her she and Nicky weren’t exclusive, she knew it wasn’t the time for that. Instead, she wrapped her in a hug.

“Hey,” Gigi said stroking Jaida’s hair. “It’s okay.”

“I knew that she didn’t want a relationship. Why does this hurt so much?”

“Because you like her, clearly a lot.”

“Why does this always happen?” Jaida wailed.

Gigi knew she wasn’t good at comforting people, but decided to try her best. “I don’t know. But Jaida, your makeup is far too pretty to cry it all off.”

Hoping that Jaida would find her comment funny, Gigi tried to laugh. This only made Jaida cry harder. Fuck. Gigi knew she wasn’t any good at any of this, but she knew who was. She needed to find Jan before Jaida lost her mind.

“I’ll be back,” Gigi said leaving a sobbing Jaida in the bedroom.

Gigi searched the entire first floor for Jan with no luck. Eventually, she ran into Jackie. 

“Gigi, what the hell is happening? Jaida’s apparently crying, Nicky left… What’s going on?” Jackie demanded.

“I guess Jaida found Brita and Nicky making out.”

Jackie groaned. “Of course Because why would she be able to make it a summer without getting her pretty little heart broken?”

When Jackie and Jan made their way back in the bedroom, Jaida was right where Gigi left her.

“Do you know where Jan is?” Gigi questioned as Jackie was hugging a very distraught Jaida.

“I think she’s outside.”

“If anyone knows how to handle this, it’s her,” Gigi said as she walked downstairs.  

Gigi realized just how drunk she was as she stumbled around trying to find Jan. Eventually, she found her comforting some random drunk girl. To Gigi’s horror, the random drunk girl ended up being Crystal. 

“Uh, I need you,” Gigi said awkwardly walking to Jan. 

Jan looked at Gigi and mouthed, “Help me,” as she broke away from Crystal. “What’s up, gorg?”

Crystal awkwardly stood next to Jan, swaying back and forth. Gigi couldn’t help but wonder how much Crystal had to drink.

“It’s Jaida.”

“Oh my God, I haven’t seen Jaida in ages,” Crystal slurred.

Jan shushed Crystal. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She found Nicky making out with Brita,” Gigi explained.

Jan groaned. “This is bad.”

“That’s really not good. Are they fighting?” Crystal tried as hard as possible to not slur her speech. “Fighting is bad.”

Rolling her eyes, Jan said, “Yes, honey. Fighting is bad. Really bad.“

Crystal stumbled toward Gigi. “Gigi, I’m really sorry we’re fighting.”

Gigi ignored her. “Jan, can you do that thing where you comfort people when they’re crying?”

“I can try,” Jan said.

“Gigi! Stop ignoring me. We’re fighting! And I don’t want us to!” Crystal pouted.

“Crystal, we can discuss this when you’re sober,” Gigi said firmly.

“I’m sober enough!” Crystal said jumping up and down. She then stopped and put one hand over her mouth and one on her stomach.

“Crystal. No!” Gigi screeched.

It was too late. Crystal lost all the alcohol she’d consumed. Jan reacted quickly enough to take a step back, but Gigi wasn’t that lucky. Gigi screamed as her favorite boots became covered in vomit.

"What the fuck?!” Gigi screamed.