#i am very sweaty and disgusting in this image and am wearing shorts that are not visible lol

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

summer goth vibes yallllll hot topic keeps handing me coupons and I, like a sucker, keep going back

(new waist cincher and ring)

[char-lotta]

Forget me not (Part 2/3)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 2,8 k

Summary: Forgetting is hard, but forgiving is harder.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

A/N: See the ending (spoilers)

Forget me not, part two

It had been two days since you had figured out her plan of going to Duskwood. You had tried to follow up on her, spying on her friend’s phones, but oh boy, she was smart. There was absolutely nothing suspicious on the message and call logs and they wouldn’t give away her location. You had logged on the traffic camera near Jessy’s, but it showed only her getting out of her apartment and going in, and occasionally Richy with her. Cleo’s door could be seen partly on CCTV of bakery shop near her, and you could confirm yourself that she wasn’t there either. One by one, you ruled out everyone she knew in Duskwood, even that disgusting fuckboy Phil, who seemed to have two girlfriends at the time. You couldn’t resist and sent an image of Phil and the blonde girl to the third wheel via anonymous text and entertain yourself looking the rage-filled texts for a while. MC’s phone was still turned off and hadn’t been on since her departure. She wasn’t on motel’s guest lists, but you had your doubts about using aliases, so you checked on the CCTV on motel’s parking lot. Nothing. Like the earth had swallowed her.

You stared numb on your screen. You had turned every stone to find her and now you had to just admit it, you had no idea where she was and why she had left. That was actually none of your business, you had to remind yourself, but how could you keep her safe in the future if you didn’t know her whereabouts?There was only one option and you knew it. Few clicks later and you received a now familiar message:

Thank you for booking your trip to Duskwood from us!

You decided early on that you would avoid meeting her directly with all costs. You just had to see her in your own eyes that she was alright and figure out some data so you could keep track on her later. You packed lightly, just your laptop and some clothes and left your safehouse with a doubt in your mind. You had this terrible feeling that something bad was about to happen and you didn’t have a clue, what it could be.

The train left on time and you looked out of the window in the darkness. It would be middle of the night when you arrived, and you hoped that the night would cover you for unwanted attention that your arrival could rise. You checked on your phone once again and saw that she was still offline. You scrolled your ridiculous short lists of conversations; MC, Lilly and Hannah and all of them were from months ago. You wondered if you should send a text to Lilly and Hannah but terminated it quickly. This mess didn’t need any more participants that it already had.“The Duskwood Express will arrive on platform 2 – “

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You tossed your backpack on the comfy looking bed and looked around you. This motel room was too familiar from the time you had searched Hannah and it brought some painful memories to you. You remembered all those texts with MC in this room, how it had brightened your mood instantly when you had opened the messaging app and saw MC’s enthusiastic texts about the investigation. She had teased and pushed your buttons many times with those cheeky messages of hers, and you would do anything to get back of those times, where it was almost carefree. She, or anyone else had had no idea, that you had stayed in Duskwood all that time, monitoring closely everything that happened.

You allowed your mind return of that one night, when you met MC first time after Hannah had been found and you had instantly clicked with her, to the point where you completed each other’s sentences at first night so easily, that you thought that you had knew her long time. When she laughed and it had sounded like little birds in the spring, and it reminded you of a small, happy river with easy flow. When she made you laugh with her and it was the easiest thing you had ever done, felt like a different life now and was a fade memory now. You had touched her gently and her skin was so soft that your fingers slide like a good dream on the back of hers. When she kissed you and you forgot everything else in the world and drowned in those lips like a leaf in the open sea. Your sweaty bodies together naked on the bed, exploring all places and surfaces on your bodies. Sound of her moaning and calling your name, over and over again and it was the sweetest thing what your ears had heard. You inside of her.

You couldn’t breathe and opening a window felt the most logical thing to do. Spring breeze welcomed your face and you tried to calm down from the emotional rollercoaster you had spent your last 15 minutes on. You suddenly felt very tired, like you hadn’t slept on months, which were kind of true. Exhaustion overtook you, and you turned off the light, drifting to a world with full of nightmares.When you woke up, it was still dark and you had to think for a while, where the hell you were. Recalls from last night came like a car accident – quickly and violent, and you had to close your eyes again to get rid of the absolute horror what flooded you.

It took few minutes until you calmed down and turned the light on. Still groggy from the sleep, you brushed your teeth and made coffee in the small kitchenette. You had a feeling that you would need a lot of coffee to survive for the day.

You made logical assumptions that she would be with her friends, why else she would had come here? Jessy was her best friend, but she was close to Lilly and Hannah too, so you divided your screen with three tracking programs and one by one, the CCTV near them opened in the screen.

Now you waited them to woke up and start their day.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The GPS tracker on Lilly’s phone showed her to be heading to downtown. You followed her steps via your monitor and pulled every single camera on that route to see what she was up to. She was alone and clearly in a good mood. Small smile crept up on your lips when you watched her, you were glad that she was doing okay.

She arrived on the local Tesco and after a while, she came out with a bag of groceries. You waited her return to her apartment, but she took a left turn from the road, which was new. Interested, you zoomed in with the camera and saw her going in a building near the town square. You waited for several minutes, but she didn’t come out and then you knew it.

You had found her.

You had your confirmation in hour later when they both came out from the building. They were laughing together, and you could see from afar, that MC was teasing Lilly about something, since she looked joyful and Lilly rather morbid. You recognized her mood quite well. You looked MC like you were enchanted, forget to breath and all you could see was her. She had cut her hair shorter; it was above her shoulders now and all slightly curly, and you actually liked it. She could also shave her whole head, and you would still like it. She was wearing a loose cardigan and jeans and those red shoes, which you had teased her as belonging to Dorothy from Oz. She looked happy and safe.

And that was all that mattered.

You allowed yourself to look at her for a minute and then you turned the screen off. Your work here was done; now you knew where she lived and could see her on street cameras, and you would find her new phone number based on address easily. You packed your things and booked a ticket for evening train, so you could leave Duskwood for good. When all the errands were done and train was leaving in a few hours, you laid on your back on the bed and looked your phone. One thought had invaded your head and you couldn’t get rid of it.

But why had she moved to Duskwood?

You tried to be reasonable, she had friends here. But she had had friends too in the city she previously lived and a decent job, why would she leave those? Her parents were long gone but she had said that her friend had been her family for years now. Her actions didn’t make any sense now, like they often didn’t. Like you had said to her in the early beginning, that she was so mysterious and intriguing, and she was proving your point efficiently here. There must be a reason, why she would leave her previous life behind. You took your phone in your hands and looked it suspiciously. You checked that Lilly was now alone in her home. After a few minutes’ serious consideration, you opened the messages and typed.

Jake: Hello, Lilly.

She answered quickly, like she always did.

Lilly: Oh no, no, no

You weren’t surprised for her answer, since you knew that they probably had talked about you a lot with MC. And she was the one, who didn’t have great things to say about your actions, so you doubted that she anything positive to say about you.

Jake: I need to ask you a favor.

Lilly: No.

Jake: Tell me, why did MC move to Duskwood?

You decided to get straight to the point, since circling the matter wasn’t going to get you anywhere. You saw her typing instantly and then erasing it. You had to wait a quite long time that she composed a whole message, and it wasn’t enjoyable to read.

Lilly: Why on earth do you think you had right to know? Why are you so intrusive about this, since you dumped her? She’s trying to manage that you left her and honestly Jake, I thought you were better.

You read those lines and felt offended, she was being unreasonable. She didn’t even know why you had left MC, but people broke up every day and usually their families were supportive.

Jake: I am sorry to hear that. But she does have friends, and you all have shown me your friendliness towards her many times before. She will overcome this.

Lilly: How do you overcome something that she will never be able to forget?

Jake: She will forget me.

You saw her writing again and composing a message for a long time. You felt frustrated and started to regret approaching Lilly, since this was going nowhere.

Lilly: I can not say anything else to you or tell the reasons why she is here, but you should have listened her when she said she needed to talk. All I am saying that you need to talk to her yourself if you want answers. And trust me, you definitely want to hear them.

Now you were just confused, why Lilly couldn’t tell you what you were asking for? You tried to ask her again, but she just stayed offline and that was probably intentional. You looked the time and noticed your train would leave in half an hour and the next train would leave tomorrow.

You knew that you couldn’t go without an answer and you wouldn’t get them at the safehouse from her. Frustrated, you threw your backpack on the floor and left the motel room.

It was raining so much that you had trouble at seeing in front of you. You arrived her buildings door quicker than you had thought, and half of the trip were forgotten in your mess of thoughts. You had absolutely no plan how to deal with this situation since you didn’t want to be seen but she lived on the second floor. There was light coming from the window, which means she was still awake. You wondered could you climb up to her balcony, when you heard way too familiar noise behind your back.

“If you are thinking about spying me without my consent, think again”, she said coldly. You turned around and saw her standing right in front of you. “Lilly told me that you might pay me a visit”, she continued.

There was nothing coming out of your mouth, not even a simple “hello”. You realized that you had made a terrible mistake and nothing, absolutely nothing, had gone according to your lousy plan. All you could do, was to stare her.

“Yeah, I didn’t think that you would had anything to say either”, she sneered, and you felt a sting in your heart when she talked like that to you. “You’re satisfied when everyone plays by your rules, but tables have turned, my love.”

My love. Not ever those two words had said so bitter tone and never would you thought that you wouldn’t want to hear her say them to you. You stared her plainly and tried to figure a way out of this situation. Talking to her would be a great mistake, and you didn’t know if you two were being watched.

“What makes you think I would like you to play by my rules?” You rudely asked. You hated to talk to her like this, but you couldn’t allow her to get hopes up in vain. This situation was so bizarre and this hostile character of hers felt as stranger to you. The next thing you were going to say, would be just plain evil.

“As I recall, I didn’t want you to be part of my life anymore.”

She looked hurt and tears had filled her eyes. You felt guilt instantly rushing in on you and felt ashamed. Your purpose here wasn’t to hurt her more, but everything you did and said just made things worse.

“I am sorry, MC” you said in a raspy voice. “I will go now, and we will never meet again. I should have not come.” The rain poured harder than ever, and you started to get cold and could see that she was shivering too. Somewhere afar you could hear thunderstorm approaching and you wanted her to get in before she would catch a cold.

“Go home, MC”, you said and felt exhausted again. She looked so fragile when looking at you and all you wanted was to pull her close to you and keep her warm. She only had her cardigan as protecting her from the rain and the wind. You let your eyes wander on her; she was so vivid when you saw her in your own eyes without the screen in between. The new haircut was now wet, and you followed the raindrops on her skin to her neck and cleavage. Her hands were crossed tightly on her front and you remembered those long fingers caressing your back, writing letters while you were guessing what she was trying to type.

Then you saw it; first you thought the lightning had done it tricks to you and you squinted your eyes, trying to see it again. She moved her right hand to tuck hair strand behind her ear and then you just knew that you had fucked up. Fucked up really good this time.

Everything stopped; you couldn’t see the darkness anymore or feel cold, clock didn’t move, and sense of rush flooded in your veins, tingling all your fingers and toes. Adrenalin came like a shockwave and almost knocked you over. You tried to say something, but the words got lost in the way. You opened your mouth, trying to form questions but nothing came out. With quick steps you walked to her and got a tight grip from her cardigan and tried to pull it open.

“What the fuck, Jake” she flinched and tried to take a few steps back while pushing you away, but your hands didn’t ease on her, keeping her on place. “Let go of me!”

In normal situation you would had let go on her instantly when she asked. But now you didn’t care, you had to see it thoroughly in your own eyes. You ripped her cardigans buttons open and there it was. Something heavy sank in your stomach and you felt panic arising inside of you; your sight begun to look a place to escape, and you wanted so badly this to be dream. But no matter how hard you tried to wake up, it was still there, under the ridiculous looking flowery shirt.

A bump.

You looked her bewildered. I swear to you God, if you ever have existed, it is a great time to do some favors. But nothing happened, the rain, the wind and she were still there, just a few inches away from you. You could feel her hot breath in your skin, and it felt like a getting third-degree burn. She saw from your face that you knew and sighted heavily.

“Well, I tried to tell you. I really did.”

And the world went black in your eyes.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I'm usually very reserved towards the pregnancies in fanfiction, I don't know why. But this idea came to me and I couldn't get rid of it so here we are. I'm trying to keep Jake and MC on character still, let me know what do you think. :)

[he-flies-me-to-the-moon-and-back]

The Single & The Taken

“Settlin’ down, huh? Now we’re really like Bert and Ernie,” says Dean.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice sounds urgent.

A loud sigh comes out from Dean’s lips. “Alright. I’ll tell ya. It’s because of this girl I’m datin’…”

Castiel frowns. “A girl?”

He Flies Me to the Moon and Back - Chapter 1

“So, Cas…”

Castiel looks up from unpacking his trench coat and a few of his worn white shirts from his duffle bag. He stares at Dean without batting his eyes while he waits for the rest of the sentence from Dean.

Dean cocks his eyebrows casually once their eyes made contact before he continues putting away Castiel’s stuff into a closet. “You okay movin’ here? You like it here?”

Castiel frowns softly, trying to recall his short memories since they both got to Long Beach. “It is a nice city.” He nods. “Lots of pizza places. Burger joints. Seafood.” Castiel continues nodding his head as he puts away his clothes into a drawer.

Dean turns his body around slightly and he quietly watches Castiel doing his thing. He is trying to read Castiel’s body language to make sure that his earlier answer wasn’t an act. Then, Dean shrugs and proceeds to close the closet before he takes his place on the bed, sitting facing his friend who is still busying himself, unpacking.

“Ya know that ya don’t need to stay here, right? I ain’t forcin’ ya,” Dean tries to convince Castiel.

Castiel looks up again with squinted eyes. A clear confusion is being advertised on his scruffy face. “You’re not forcing me, Dean. I want to stay here… if you want me.”

Dean’s lips naturally curl into a smile - he likes hearing this more convincing answer from Castiel. He clasps both his hands and rubs them together while his face is still smiling happily. “Great!” he unnecessarily exclaims, causing Castiel to stare at him confusedly.

“Great to have you here, buddy! I could use a buddy around since Sammy ain't livin’ with us anymore.”

Upon hearing that, Castiel immediately takes a seat next to Dean on the bed, and he keeps gawking at Dean with frowning look. “I wanted to ask you about that. Why didn’t you just stay with Sam back in The Bunker? Or at least anywhere in Texas? Or Kansas City? You love Kansas more than anyone I’ve ever known.” Castiel begins to look at Dean with a scrutinizing stare.

Dean is slightly taken aback by this sudden questioning from Castiel. He replies Castiel’s gaze with a perplexed look. “What? I thought I give California a try. Like ya said, they got awesome pizzas and burger joints.” Dean smirks brightly at the thought of all those pizzas and burgers he can have, believing that his argument might convince Castiel about his actual reason moving into Long Beach.

Unfortunately, Castiel doesn’t buy that. “You hate California.”

Dean pretends to be disgusted by Castiel’s accusation. “I never said that!” he cries defensively.

Castiel rolls his eyes and starts to quote Dean, word by word, “The land of gridlock, Botox, overtaxing, underachieving, smell of sweaty desperation. I mean you can't breathe, beaches are toxic. You got dudes in skinny jeans wearing sunglasses inside. Image-obsessed narcissists.”

Dean’s face is clearly showing his shock over Castiel’s rebuttal. “Dammit, Cas. Stop stalkin’ me, ya dickbag.” Dean attempts to cover his nervousness by fidgeting around on the bed, which makes him look even guiltier than he was before. Castiel watches Dean’s façade without a word.

Dean locks eyes again with Castiel. “Still... I didn’t say I hate California there.”

Castiel stares at Dean, unamused. “The only thing you like here is the yoga pants.”

Dean finally realizes that he can no longer win this argument against an angel that has remembered all his quotes by heart. “Shut up,” he protests.

Castiel can’t help but chuckles a little. Something that he picked up from spending all those years with the Winchester brothers. “So…” his words trail off, “Can you just be honest? Tell me why we are settling down here?” Castiel cocks his eyebrows, gesturing Dean to honestly answer him this time around.

Dean’s wall is still up although it is cracking here and there after hearing Castiel’s plead. He laughs lightly as he comes up with a lame joke to divert their conversation away from the pressing issue.

“Settlin’ down, huh? Now we’re really like Bert and Ernie.”

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice sounds urgent.

A loud sigh comes out from Dean’s lips. “Alright. I’ll tell ya. It’s because of this girl I’m datin’…”

Castiel frowns. “A girl?”

“Yeah…” Dean rubs his nape nervously. “I met this girl the last time me and Sam went huntin’. She was a hunter as well back then. We got talkin’ and we hit it off, nice and smooth.” Dean gives his signature proud smirk. “So, one thing led to another… She’s livin’ in Long Beach, and I thought I just come down here to have a normal life with her.”

Castiel feels his back being patted. He doesn’t know the reason why he is being patted, but he is curious about another thing. “Then… why am I here?” Castiel shoots a confused stare at Dean.

Dean quickly reacts with a frown. “Why can’t ya be here?”

“The last time I’ve checked, usually normal couple would move in together if they wanted to have normal relationship. Why don’t you just move in together? I can just stay with Sam at The Bunker. Help him out.”

Dean’s face changes - the proud smirk he donned earlier has now vanished, replaced by a startled look. He shakes his head and gets up off the bed as he paces up and down the floor. His brain is trying to come up with an excuse to answer to Castiel’s suggestion without giving any wrong signals.

“That’d be too fast, don’t ya think? What if she’s not the one for me? It’d be hell to move out,” he calmly answers, despite Castiel can almost sense the nervousness that is visible on Dean’s face.

“You never know, Dean. You need to give it a try to know if it’d work out.” Castiel shrugs nonchalantly.

Dean glares as a response to Castiel. His face is now showing the bubbling anger that he is feeling in his chest. He subconsciously grabs Castiel’s duffle bag and angrily takes out the remaining stuff in the bag onto the bed while Castiel keeps on watching.

“Whatever, man. Ya ass is stayin’ here with me. That’s final.” Then, Dean leaves the room, leaving Castiel even more confused on his bed.

-----

Dean’s hand reaches out to the car keys. He turns around to look for Castiel. “Cas! Let’s go now!”

Soon, Cas emerges from behind the wall, looking like his usual self with the beige trench coat and the same white shirt he always wears.

Dean squints with judgment. “Cas. Buddy. Ya seriously gonna wear trench coat? It’s blazin’ hot out there, man. Lose the coat, will ya?” Dean quickly but carefully takes the trench coat off Castiel’s back. Castiel remains obedient as he stands there without any refutes.

“This is what I always wear, Dean.”

“Don’t get me wrong.” Dean places the coat on the couch before he begins adjusting Castiel’s shirt collar attentively. “Ya always look good in that coat. But…” Dean flashes a smile to Castiel. “Ya look like a bank accountant out for dinner. Not meeting a friend.”

Castiel frowns his eyebrows. “She is not my friend, Dean. She is your friend.”

“So?”

Dean tugs Castiel’s tie down to loosen it - pulls it off Castiel - throws it down onto the leather couch - unbutton the top buttons of Castiel’s shirt. He takes a step back to have a better look of his angel friend, and an involuntary smirk appears on his lips.

“Man… Ya really look awesome now,” he gives Castiel a sincere compliment.

Castiel looks down to take a look of his new look, which he only manages to see what he normally sees. “Thanks?”

Dean smiles widely as he slings his arm across Castiel’s broad back. “Come on. We gotta go now. She’s waitin’.”

-----

Dean and Castiel enter the crowded pizza place across their apartment where they’ll be meeting Dean’s new girl sooner or later. It is Friday night. The high time for young adults to meet up and catch up with their friends. Thus, making the duo the only scruffy male adults in the joint, excluding a group of men in their 50s who are having their boy’s night out at the corner of the restaurant.

“Let’s grab that table.” Dean points at an empty table not too far from the kitchen’s entrance. They both make their way to the table and settle down comfortably despite the atmosphere in the pizza place is loud and vibrant with chatters and laughter.

Dean puts both his hands on the table. He’s smiling from ear to ear since they arrived at the pizza joint. I guess Dean is excited about this meeting very much, says Castiel in his mind.

“So, what do ya wanna eat, buddy? Beef pepperoni? Cheese? Vegetarian?” Dean skims the menu half-heartedly since he knows what he wants without having to read the menu properly.

“Beef pepperoni, please,” Castiel politely answers, with his body leans forward slightly.

A waitress comes by their table with a warm smile. Dean replies a smile back to her, then he places their orders. The young lady jolts down everything expertly while at the same time giving Castiel a flirtatious look. Castiel is - as always - oblivious of the opposite gender’s advancement, but Dean is taking pride in what is unfolding in front of him. 

“Your friend is cute. He got a number?” asks the young waitress to Dean.

Dean takes a quick look at Castiel and smiles back at their waitress. “Thanks. Ya might wanna ask him yourself for his number.”

The young girl shoots a flirty wink at Castiel before she walks away into the back kitchen. Castiel who witnessed the wink is left clueless. Dean, on the other hand, rolls his eyes in frustration.

“You’re hopeless, man.”

Castiel glances at Dean once Dean looks away. That bright smile is still on his face. It reminds Castiel those days when Dean and Sam, if not him included, saved the days from the supernatural attacks. Especially those rare days when Dean can have a way with the cases only because they strike his interest the best. Castiel beams softly as he continues to gaze at Dean. Castiel has always enjoyed watching Dean quietly, even when Dean is sleeping.

Suddenly...

“Leona!” Dean calls out a name, causing Castiel to snap back into reality. He turns around to see a beautiful young black lady, in her casual wear which makes her looks effortlessly beautiful, walking towards him and Dean.

Castiel, as a gentleman as he is, immediately gets up off his seat just to show her a good manner. He doesn’t want to embarrass Dean in any ways possible. He can’t stand the critics he might have to hear back in their apartment later on if he messed up this first meeting.

“Hi! I’m Leona,” says the girl cheerfully while extending a hand towards Castiel. Castiel naturally takes her hand and gives a firm handshake. “Castiel,” he says.

The girl keeps on smiling at Castiel and Dean as she takes a seat next to Dean. “Been waiting long?” she politely asks Dean. Dean shakes his head, and then, he looks at Castiel with a huge grin. “Meet my girl, Cas.”

Castiel smiles warmly and nods his head lightly. “Nice to meet you, Leona.”

[theshrubbery]

Chapter 5 of my fic :)

Chapter summary: 

My father is shouting something, I feel like I should be listening to him, but all I can focus on is how beautiful Simon is. He’s fucking gorgeous and it’s breaking my heart. I love him so much that I can’t breathe, my chest is constricting and it’s all I can do not to lean back into him, let him swallow me whole.

SIMON

I didn’t mean to rifle through Baz’s personal things like this. I didn’t even know they were personal until I noticed how worn the newspaper clippings were, how thin the paper of the photo had become. It was a photo of a tall, beautiful woman holding a small Baz in her arms, both of them are smiling, standing in front of a window—I notice Baz’s father, Malcolm, in the reflection. One corner of his smile is peeking out from the side of the camera, which is held high, right to his face, as he squints through the viewfinder.

I’d shared a room with Baz for long enough to know that his mum had died, though I’d never really thought much of it. I realise that makes me sound like something of a complete asshole, but this is, of course, coming from an orphan.

Honestly, though, I’d been looking for some clothes to wear. I was too scared to go back to my room to fetch my bag full of my own clothes. I’d ditched them in my escape out of that fucking freak-hole, and I sure as shit wasn’t going back for them. As much as I hate the idea of borrowing Baz’s clothes (again) I hate the idea of going back to that room even more. So, naturally, I’d started looking through his wardrobe for something that didn’t look like it was over a bajillion pounds. Something more Primark, less… whatever expensive brands these silk shirts were.

For some reason, I’d figured that Baz must have just been keeping all his fancy shit out to show off. Most people would do that, I figured, and Baz definitely seemed the type to try and keep up his pretentious image like that, so I got up on my tip-toes and started to rummage around the top shelves, pushing a neatly folded pile of jumpers out of the way until I accidentally found the shoebox. Might I add that it was a very expensive branded shoebox, too.

Inside were the articles I’m sitting holding now: the newspaper clippings of Baz’s mum’s death. The newspaper clippings of Baz’s childhood kidnapping that I’ve never heard a fucking thing about. What the fuck?

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Baz’s voice sends a cold shock straight through me. My stomach drops through the floor, a sense of dread pouring like cement into my chest cavity. I’m holding the photograph when Baz opens the door. The one of he and his mum; he strides forwards and snatches it straight from me before I can think to surrender it of my own accord. I look up at him.

Baz is seething. In all the years I’ve known Baz, never have I seen him look so genuinely terrifying. It makes me wonder whether I’ve actually ever seen him mad.

“I’m sorry,” I say. But I say it too quickly, it sucks the genuineness out and leaves it empty, bland. I can’t help but curse myself, internally, there’s no way out of this one.

“For a genius you sure are thick,” Baz spits, shoving me hard in the shoulder as he gathers the clippings back into the box and holds them tightly to his chest. He gets to his feet and glares down at me, like he isn’t sure what to do next and doesn’t want me to know.

“You were kidnapped,” I say. Baz flinches. “You were kidnapped by your mum’s killers.”

Baz’s jaw tightens, his thick eyebrows lowering even further, casting shadows over his eyes. He’s scowling so tightly his lips are starting to whiten.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I try again, and I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m still going with this. It’s clear that Baz doesn’t want to talk about it, that he’s enraged I ever looked through his stuff without permission in the first place, but I guess now that the can of worms is open…

“Baz!” Mordelia shouts up the stairs. I can hear Malcolm trying to quiet her, but she shouts again anyways, reminding us that there’s breakfast to be had, a relationship to fake.

“I can’t believe you,” Baz snarls under his breath, and somehow his disappointment is an even sharper spear to the stomach than his anger. “I can’t believe you.”

“Baz, please, I really am sorry.”

“Just shut the fuck up, Snow, I don’t want to hear it.” Baz pushes a hand through his hair, pulling at it when he gets to the back of his head, then he forces a violent sigh through his teeth and throws his hand away from his scalp, slapping it against his thigh. He gives me this look, and it scalds me, like he expected more from me. What I don’t understand is why would he? It’s not like we’ve ever really been friends.

Baz turns away from me and takes a deep breath. “Let’s just go down to breakfast.”

“Right,” I say quietly, feeling like I really don’t have the right to talk at all.

“Come on, Snow. We’ll discuss this later but for now, don’t fuck this up for me too.” I don’t need to ask him what he means, I already know he means pretending to be his boyfriend. I feel like I owe him, I feel guilty, so on the way down the stairs, after Baz has (literally) thrown me some clothes to change into, I psyche myself up, and I grab his hand.

Baz freezes, stumbles, nearly misses a step, then rights himself and tentatively pushes his fingers through the spaces in my own, interlocking our hands. It’s strange, I think, how effortless it is to do this, how easy it is to pretend we’re a couple.

Malcolm looks down his nose at us, standing at the bottom of the stairs as we descend. I can’t see Baz’s face, but I really can’t imagine it would look much better. Baz’s hand tightens in mine and he pulls me closer to his body as his father’s eyes rake over me. Then, Mordelia comes bounding around the corner again, obviously over-exited at all the happenings. She probably doesn’t see many visitors inside the house.

“Cute!” She exclaims, her eyes ogling our joined hands. Malcolm swallows, as though he’s physically withholding himself from making some sort of derogatory comment.

“Enough, Mordelia, go back to the table,” Malcolm tells her, gently pressing his hand into her tiny shoulder and sending her away. He’s acting as though whatever me and Baz are, whatever we have, is infectious. It’s nothing short of frustrating. Really, it’s a lot more than frustrating, it’s disgusting, but this isn’t my place to say anything, not yet anyways. “Baz, you and… your friend will join us.” Malcolm’s voice curls around the word ‘friend’, wrapping it in sneeringly impolite undertones. It’s making me feel awkward and uncomfortable. Luckily, even though Baz and I aren’t really seeing eye-to-eye right now, he doesn’t just stand there and let his father pick at me.

“He has a name. And you know he is more than a friend,” Baz’s voice is flat, empty, but I can still make out the simmer in it that tells me he’s trying to keep his cool. “Just because you’re my father, it doesn’t give you the right to treat Simon this way.”

“Basilton,” Malcolm snaps. “You really need to rethink your position in this family, rethink your rank, your status, are you really going to throw that all away to gallivant around with this boy?”

Baz steps down a couple more steps, and I unwillingly follow. Not that I have a choice with how his sweaty hand has mine in a death-clamp. I’m not sure whether he even remembers he’s holding it.

“And what if I am?” Baz challenges. He’s already tall, but standing as he is, a few steps higher than his father, puts him inches above eye-level and forces Malcolm to look up at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The sooner you give this whole thing up, the better, it’s clear what you’re doing here, Basil.” My heart starts thudding just a little harder at the implications. Has Malcolm figured us out already? Am I really that bad at this whole dating thing? Baz gave me one job, granted I hate him, but letting people down once I’ve committed to a promise really isn’t something I like to do. It feels like a failure on my part.

“What are you talking about?” Baz demands. I can see his pulse in the hollow of his throat. I’m two steps above Baz and I slowly lower myself down one until I’m directly behind him, so close I can feel the heat from his body.

“You’re an idiot if you think I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Basilton. You honestly expect me to believe that straight after our conversation you’d reveal to be dating the one boy you’ve hated since first year? It’s clear to me you’re just trying to prove a point, and the act is up. So drop it.”

“You’re wrong, father.” Baz squeezes my hand. I look down at his whitening knuckles and then up to his clenching jaw, which I can just about see from this angle. I look to Malcolm and it irks me how fucking confident he is that he’s won this. Baz and I don’t convince him at all, even if he has only had one dinner to form his opinion of us.

“The act is up,” Malcolm repeats. “Basilton, come to your senses. Just stop this foolishness, it is, frankly, embarrassing.” I hear the hitch in Baz’s breath that he can’t quite cover in time. There’s a splotchy red flush of colour blooming in ugly flowers across his cheeks, down his neck, his chest, where I can see a bronze ‘v’ of skin between the fabric of his button-down shirt.

My ears feel kind of like they’re ringing, I feel a little like I can’t see properly, like I’m standing on the other side of a glass window looking in on my own life. It’s strange. I feel like I’m floating, weightless and unreal.

In hindsight, my body probably knew what I was going to do next before my brain caught up with it. The chemicals surging in my brain, the adrenaline trembling through my veins, it was all because of a subconscious thought that hadn’t quite reached the forefront of my mind yet.

Unsure of what I’m doing, I pull at Baz’s hand, turn him at an angle, use his momentary surprise to tilt his head towards mine with my other hand, cradling his jaw for what feels like an eternity. I’m not looking at his eyes, but his parted lips.

And then, I kiss him.

BAZ

He’s kissing me. Simon Snow is kissing me. I feel dizzy, lightheaded, I feel like melting. I haven’t ever been kissed before, I wonder if Snow knows that this is my first, wonder if he can feel the same fireworks that I can. My heart is pounding when we pull gently away. He doesn’t jerk back with the disgust I’d have expected from Snow, I’m sure it must’ve sunk in that he’s pretending to be in a relationship with a gay man by now. I never imagined that Snow would ever willingly kiss me and look as dazed as he does right now. His eyes are glazed, his lips are flushed pink, his cheeks on fire, his pulse pounding in the column of his golden throat, the freckled skin fluttering.

My father is shouting something, I’m vaguely aware of him storming away and I feel like I should be listening to him, but all I can focus on is how beautiful Simon is. He’s fucking gorgeous and it’s breaking my heart. I love him so much that I can’t breathe, my chest is constricting and it’s all I can do not to lean back into him, let him swallow me whole.

Snow is looking at me, I am looking at Snow, neither of us know what to do now. My father distantly tells us to get down to the dining room at once, he sounds disgusted, he probably thinks we’re disgusting and I just don’t care. Simon Snow just kissed me. Snow’s eyes widen, his head jars back suddenly, and I can’t help the jolt in my stomach, I knew it was too good to be true. He doesn’t say anything though, not for what feels like an eternity. He just stands and stares, his hand sweating where it’s still holding my jaw. I want to push my face into his hand and breathe him in, but I can’t. I can’t, and it’s killing me.

“I—Sorry, that was—that was too much,” Snow stutters. Nausea is swirling unpleasantly in my gut. There it is. The rejection. Though… does that really count as rejection when he’s the one who initiated it in the first place? Snow looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t know what he should do now, and I decide to put him out of his misery.

“It’s fine, Snow, I get it,” I tell him, forcing my voice to stay level. Forcing myself not to allow the thickness in my throat to constrict my words. I can’t scare Snow off, not now. “You’re… doing well, my father will have no choice but to believe us now.”

“I just—how could he say those things to you? It was—I didn’t think—I just—” I hold up a hand to stop him. He must really be feeling quite turbulent if he’s stuttering over his words like this, it’s been a long while since he stumbled over each word like a hurdle in this way.

“We don’t need to talk about this, I understand, Snow. We can discuss things later.”

There is an awful lot we need to talk about later.

Breakfast was so tense I was half positive Snow was about to get up and run. He scoffed his food like he always does, though I think he was just nervous. Mordelia wouldn’t shut up, asking us all sorts of questions as to the status of our relationship. In the end Malcolm had snapped at her to be quiet, something he very rarely did. Daphne took her away from the table as soon as she could, taking the rest of the kids with her too with the help of two maids. When Snow and I had arrived, the house had been empty, but in the mean time Daphne had returned with Mordelia and all my other siblings. I love them, I do, but I don’t feel like I can handle all the attention at the moment. Though I don’t let anyone into this, I can’t, my mother taught me better than to lose my composure.

So I remained composed, dignified, ate my breakfast, reprimanded Snow on his eating habits just to reassure him that I wasn’t mad at him. Not for kissing me, not for finding out everything I never wanted anyone to know. My father didn’t make any more remarks, in honesty he tried not to look at us, I’m not sure what I want from him—other than acceptance of course. It hurts to have my father treat me this way. It hurts to feel like a disappointment for something that I can’t control. It’s even worse knowing that he still loves me, I know that he does, he’s always done everything he can for me its just… he cannot stand me being attracted to other men. He’s always ignored it, probably in hopes that it’s just a phase. But it isn’t, it never was, and it never will be. I have no idea if he’ll ever stop letting this be a wedge between us.

“What are—what are we doing today then, Baz?” Snow asks me after breakfast. We’re the last ones at the table, father has excused himself to work and I’m grateful I can drop my ramrod posture, if only a little. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead when I invited Snow here. Usually I would spend the holiday studying, attending formals with my father, counting down until I could go back to school. Snow has always stayed at Watford over the holidays, I’ve always speculated over what he spent his time doing in our room alone, though those thoughts often ended up wondering down a hormonal path that I really should steer clear of at the moment.

I cross my legs and lean back in my seat.

“Anything you want to do?” I reply as nonchalantly as I can. Snow glances at me and then quickly away, I can’t work out what he’s thinking. Is it about the kiss? Is it about finding him rummaging through my mother’s articles? My kidnapping? I don’t know whether I want to distract us from these thoughts, or talk them through. It feels like too much, all mounting up on me like this, I can’t help but feel anxious.

Snow shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders. “I’m the guest here.”

“I’d use that lightly,” I huff. “You’re not exactly getting the best hospitality here, are you?” I say it flatly, Snow knows that it’s not a question but a fact. He shrugs again. He’s always shrugging. His eyebrows pinch like his trying to think about how to word something.

“Don’t you feel—”

“Let’s study,” I say, cutting him off. I don’t want to answer anything that is poised as a question and includes the word ‘feel’.

“Study?” Snow asks, like he’s hearing the word for the first time.

“Yes, study.” He’s looking at me like I’ve just told him I’m a vampire. “What? Christ, Snow, aren’t you meant to be a genius? Are you telling me you’ve never studied?”

“No, that’s not. That’s not it, I study plenty, thank you very much—I just. I’m surprised you’d suggest studying.”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, considering everything that’s happened, I just—”

“Please,” I interrupt again. I can’t have this talk right now, any of these talks. I don’t want to deal with feelings, I just want to pretend everything is fine, just for a little longer. I don’t want to talk about my mother, I don’t want to talk about myself, I don’t want to talk about that kiss, I just don’t think I can. I don’t trust myself not to spill everything I’ve been holding back for years. I just—I need to pretend. Just for a little longer. “Let’s just—let’s not talk about anything just yet, Snow. Let’s study. I’m still not entirely convinced you even know how to read.”

“Of course I can read!” He exclaims, sounding genuinely offended. I bless the heavens above that it’s so easy to distract him, so easy to rile him up. I love him for it.

“Oh really?” I taunt, pushing away from the table. He follows without breaking eye-contact. “I guess you’re just going to have to prove how smart you are then, scholarship-student.”

“I literally got the third highest grade in English!”

“Yeah, after me and Bunce.”

“You probably have like eighty private tutors and a rich-people machine that feeds knowledge into your head!”

“Snow, can you hear yourself?” I can’t help but laugh at him. Though it’s short and controlled. I manage to make it look like a sneer. Snow is most comfortable around me when I’m like this, playing the enemy, picking a fight.

“Fuck off, Baz.” He starts walking away from the table, then stops and looks over his shoulder to see if I’m following him, which I’m not.

“What is it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know where to go,” he says blankly. I huff through my nose, bite my lip to try and keep from smiling as I watch him standing there in my clothes which are a size or two too big. The sleeves hang over his hands; he has the fabric of each cuff bunched up in each freckled hand. I love him. I love him.

“Come on then, you git.”

[monstersandmaw]

ORCTOBERFEST HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN ON MONSTERS & MAW!

I’m super excited to share the first of my stories! Starting off with a plus size female reader who has very low self-esteem and some serious body image issues due to her size, and a sweetheart orc who helps her realise that she can do anything she sets her mind to, and that it’s ok to ask for help.  

Prompt: 'Ring' Wordcount: 4330

---

Chunky preview:

Never again, you thought as you typed ‘self-defence classes’ into your search engine at four am, still wearing your sweaty pyjamas, the nightmare still fresh in your mind. Never a-fucking-gain.  

The nicest looking gym you found was in town, and only a short walk from your apartment. You’d have been lying if you said you weren’t practically shitting bricks about joining up and starting a martial arts class, but enough was enough. You weren’t about to become a vigilante or anything, hunting the streets at night for men who preyed on and mugged people who were short and ‘somewhat chunky’ to put it mildly. You just weren’t about to be taken by surprise again.  

Ever.  

With your heart in your mouth, you walked up the street, super aware of how your body felt, of every curve and wobble, but you bit that back and focused on why you were there.  

Behind the reception desk in the simple foyer of the old warehouse gym sat a creature that looked possibly like a half-gargoyle, half-orc, but they smiled warmly enough up at you. You squinted, having left your glasses at home, and thought that the name tag read ‘Sibylla’. She had smoky grey skin, beautiful purple eyes, and a short muzzle. With features as intimidating as hers, she was the last person you’d expect to be on the front desk, but she asked in a husky, rich voice how she could help you, and you found yourself warming to her almost immediately.

“Hi,” you said, feeling utterly stupid as your face flushed a violent crimson. “Um… I saw on your website that you do self-defence classes…?” You trailed off rather pathetically before rallying again and adding, “And I’m kind of thinking about maybe doing some personal trainer stuff to get fitter and shift some weight...?”

“Sure,” she smiled, her massive canines clicking down in front of the long tusks in her lower jaw as she spoke. She had two short, black horns that curved up out of her forehead and over the top of her head. “Are you a member of the gym already?”

You shook your head. If I were, do you think I’d look like this? you thought.  

“Well,” she said. “We have a number of options then – oh, hi Liam!” she chirped as someone entered the foyer behind you from the street outside.  

You glanced nervously over your shoulder, trying not to twitch like a frightened doe in an open pasture, and when you saw the person she waved at, your heart stopped beating and then galloped wildly in your chest. The orc who had stepped into the reception area through the glass doors from the street was, in a word, gorgeous.  

He had shoulder-length, black hair, which was unusually short for an orc, half tied back off his face, and he was relatively slim too, for an orc. Beside anyone else, he would have looked like a demigod. His sculpted arms and chest were shown off by the skin-tight, black compression t-shirt he wore, and he stood at just over six feet, again remarkably short, but only short for an orc. His skin was a pale, sage green, and his eyes a warm brown. His small-ish tusks bore no metal cuffs, and there were no beads in his hair, though his ears were studded with silver and his black top was so tight that you could plainly see he had both nipples pierced.  

You felt the absolute and instant desire for the ground to swallow you whole, no matter of it had to open up a hole the size of Manhattan to achieve that. He was beautiful, and there you were with your big tummy and your fat ass, standing in front of the reception desk like an absolute fucking chump. You did not belong here.  

“Sorry,” Sibylla smiled, turning back to you. “So yeah, the options…”

“No, you know what? That’s ok. I…” you stammered.  

“You signing up?” the orc named Liam asked, coming up behind you. “Anything you’re looking forward to doing in particular?”

“Barely managing to lumber fifty yards and then spending the next two days aching and not even able to move even that far?” you muttered in disgust.  

The orc laughed, but not unkindly. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” he said sweetly. “We’ll have you doing the things you really want in good time, I promise. We’ll take care of you here.”

Something about the way he said it made tears spring to your eyes, and you felt your face crumple, turning away from him to hide your embarrassment.  

“Hey now,” he said, gently bringing his hand to your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you,” you sniffled. “Look, thank you for your time,” you said to Sibylla. “I’m sorry I wasted it.” And you turned and fled the gym, not stopping to catch the looks Sibylla and the orc exchanged.  

Anger and disappointment at yourself flooded through you and tears still stung your eyes. Every time it was like this. Every time you set your mind to some new challenge, you backed out.  

You’d not made it ten paces down the road before you heard jogging feet, and a large figure loomed into your field of vision. It was the orc, Liam.  

“You that desperate for new customers?” you shot sarcastically at him as he drew to a halt slightly in front of you and just off to one side.  

He deflated a little, holding up his hands. God, they were nice hands. “No, I just… I’m sorry if I upset you. Whether or not you join the gym, I just didn’t want to part like that…”

“Oh,” you said, rather lamely.  

“Listen,” he said, running his palms nervously down his thighs, “Would you at least let me give you a tour of the place…? See what it’s like before you make a decision?”

You took a deep breath, teetering on the edge of a choice. You knew you should. What was it you’d said to yourself at four o’clock that very morning? Never again.

“O-Ok...” you nodded. “Thank you.”

He beamed at you, tusks gleaming in the bright sunlight, and his dark eyes glittering. 

Read the whole thing, and gain exclusive access to monthly stories, the Orctoberfest with more orcs than you can shake a WoW game at, WIP snippets, polls, character bios, and our private Discord server right now!

[ankhlesbian]

FE Rarepair Week: Day 2

Prompt: Longing, for @ferarepair-week

Fandom: FE Fates

Pairing: Velouria/Soleil

AO3 Link: Here

Length: ~2k

Title: Opposites Attract

Soleil, star of her high school's lacrosse team, finds herself head-over-heels for Velouria, someone way out of her normal social circle, and definitely out of her league. But this is high school: anything can happen, and Soleil's unorthodox courting method may just pay off...

(aka I tried to write angsty Soleil and then it lasted for like one scene)

“She’s so perfect,” Soleil sighs, slamming her locker shut and leaning against it mournfully. “She’d never want to talk to me!”

Caeldori switches her sweaty practice shirt for a clean one and wiggles a finger at her, disapproving. “She doesn’t even know you, there’s no way she hates you. You have to actually make a move before you say things like that.”

Soleil crosses her arms. “But what could I do? I’ll probably just embarrass myself. She’s goth, right? I’m just a dumb jock.”

Caeldori rolls her eyes. “Literally only you think like that. As long as you ask her out properly, I’m sure she’d say yes.” Caeldori’s eyes are sparkling, surely thinking about some grand romantic gesture. Soleil’s seen her reading enough of her cliché romance novels to know what Caeldori considers the “proper” way to ask someone out.

“Maybe I’ll leave notes in her locker.” Soleil says, choosing to ignore Caeldori. Caeldori secures her lacrosse stick onto her bookbag and turns to leave the locker rooms. Soleil follows suits.

“You could leave flowers!” Caeldori suggest brightly. Soleil opens her mouth to protest, because what goth girl wants a locker full of flowers, but the flowers she saw on the way home from school recently spring to mind.

“That might not actually be a bad idea.”

Caeldori huffs, swinging around. Soleil has to duck to avoid the handle of her lacrosse stick as she turns. “I’m full of good ideas! Especially on the field. Maybe if you’d listen to me instead of daydreaming about Velouria, we’d—”

Soleil lunges forward, slapping her hand over Caeldori’s mouth, furiously looking back and forth down the hallway to detect any eavesdroppers. It’s empty, thankfully.

“Don’t say her name!” She hisses. Caeldori pushes her hand away with disgust, wiping at her mouth.

“Not even our teammates are around. Don’t interrupt your captain. As I was saying—” Soleil lets the familiar lecture wash over her, focusing instead on her master plan for wooing Velouria.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Soleil watches with bated breath from around the corner as Velouria approaches her locker. She’s wearing her usual combination of black and red, contrasting with her silver hair. She’s truly breathtaking, and Soleil can’t help but swoon just a little.

The girl wrinkles her nose as she swirls her lock, and when she opens her locker she’ll see a black rose, taped to a note. She’d pulled out her best calligraphy, hoping it would be distinguishable from her usual scrawl in case Velouria decides to do any detective work.

Velouria unfolds the note carefully, and then scowls. Soleil’s heart drops. Then, oddly enough, Velouria holds the note, rose and all, to her nose and sniffs deeply. Her head turns, eerily, in Soleil’s direction. She ducks back behind the corner, palms sweating. There’s no way Velouria suspects her. That would be absurd. But what if she comes this way?

Soleil’s eyes dart around the hallway. School hasn’t started yet, and there’s plenty of people milling around their open lockers.

“Out of the way! Emergency happening here!” She shoves some poor soul aside, and crams herself into their locker, for once thankful for her short stature. She slams the door shut. “Just play along,” she whispers to the bewildered face peering in at her. Her reputation must come in handy, because her accomplice obeys wordlessly.

She peers out through the slits, holding her breath. After a few seconds, she sees distinctive black combat boots passing by. She sighs in relief and bangs on the inside of the locker door.

“Okay, you can let me out now.” The door swings open and she crawls out, dusting herself off casually like she didn’t just do something extremely weird. “Thanks!”

After that close call, she’s careful to not stick around after slipping the note and rose into Velouria’s locker. It’s been a week since she’s started, and she’s pretty satisfied with her progress. Maybe after another week or two she’ll try talking to Velouria, like, in person.

She’s in a good mood after lacrosse practice, humming merrily to herself as she exits the locker room.

“We need to talk.” Says an ominous voice from the shadows.

“Gah!” Soleil jumps, hands going for her lacrosse stick. From the darkness of the hallway steps the last person she expected to see here.

“Velouria? I mean, uh, who are you?” Velouria’s arms are crossed. She’s very clearly unimpressed.

“You know who I am. Unless you’ve been leaving flowers in my locker for the past week on accident.”

“How’d you even know that was me?” She’s never been very good at lying, so she concedes defeat.

“I have my ways,” Velouria declares mysteriously. It’s very goth of her, and extremely cool. “So.”

“So.” repeats Soleil, unsure of what happens next. IS there an expected response to this?

“So,”  Velouria prompts.

“So?” Soleil says again, confused.

“So…” Velouria coughs imploringly. “You must have been leaving those in my locker for a reason.” In the dim lighting, Soleil can just barely make out Velouria’s face. Are her cheeks… pink? She’s blushing? Soleil grins, and attempts to turn up the charm.

“Well, I thought they were an appropriate gift for you. Just as beautiful as you are. I figured I should woo you proper before asking you on a date.”

Velouria nods approvingly, trying to stay calm even though Soleil can tell she’s delighted. If she was a dog, her tail would be wagging. “Very well. I accept your offer.”

Soleil’s bouncing off the walls by the time they exchange phone numbers and arrange a time and place. She bursts back into the locker room, crashing into Caeldori to give her a hug.

“It worked! You’re a genius!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

That Saturday, Soleil finds herself waiting nervously outside of the mall. She’s in her best outfit, one that goes with her pink hair, and has her hands tucked into the pockets of her letterman jacket so that no one can see them shaking. She’s cool, she’s suave, the ladies love her, she’s the star of the lacrosse team, she’s got this.

“Hey.”

Soleil jolts. She must really be out of it, because Velouria’s staring down at her with a raised eyebrow. Actually, wait a second. She glances down, and yep, Velouria’s wearing a different pair of boots. These ones have a heel, giving her another good two inches on Soleil.

“Hey. Let’s go in! How’s your day been?” She enters chatterbox mode out of habit, but Velouria doesn’t seem to mind. She keeps up gamely, usually offering one word responses or even a sentence or two.

They enter the mall, walking around aimlessly. It’s the only mall in town, so it’s not like there’s anything they’ve never seen before here. Window shopping is always fun, and she discovers that Velouria has a soft spot for dogs when they pass the window of a Build-A-Bear. The other girl trails off in the middle of a sentence as they pass, her gaze lingering on the wolf plushie on display in the window.

“Should we go in?” Soleil teases, though her dad did give her some money for this date, and she’d be more than willingly to spend it on a stuffed animal.

“No. Why would you ask that? I just saw some dust,” Velouria says quickly. Soleil giggles.

“Your tough goth girl image is safe with me.”

“Speaking of that…” Velouria points to an upcoming store. Soleil freezes.

“You want to go in?” It’s a scary place, one Soleil, as a self-proclaimed prep-adjacent jock, has never stepped foot in. The walls are dark, stacked from floor to ceiling with shirts plastered with eerie images and unfamiliar characters. Everything seems to be either black or red. It’s… Hot Topic.

Velouria seems pleased, poking thoughtfully through the merchandise. Soleil may dye her hair, but the man with green hair by the cash register is giving her the creeps. The things she does for love.

“I can get you something. If you want.” It takes all her bravery to ask, doing her best not to look too closely at the sharp accessory Velouria’s holding. To her surprise, Velouria just laughs at her, smiling softly.

“I just wanted to see if you’d agree to come in, I don’t actually need anything. You’re certainly out of place.” The other customers are giving her the stink eye, that’s for sure.

Soleil puffs out her chest. “And you’re certainly devious. I’m making you look at athletic wear next.”

She must have a weak spot for Velouria, though, because instead they end up buying ice cream.

“We should eat outside. It’s a beautiful day!” Soleil declares, scooping up an enthusiastic spoonful of her cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“Hmmmm,” Velouria says, licking at her cone of coffee flavored ice cream thoughtfully. “But it’ll melt.”

“You better eat fast then.” She pulls out her secret weapon. “There’s a dog park out back, you know.” Velouria caves, and outside they go. It’s not actually that warm out, but the sun is shining.

They end up acquiring a frisbee from a dog owner who isn’t paying enough attention to what their pet is doing. Velouria is clearly enamored by the dogs, crouching down to pet them immediately, unconcerned with touching the damp ground. She even makes pathetic, albeit they endearing, attempts at throwing the frisbee for a lively lab.

“I’ve got this. Just watch!” Soleil takes the frisbee from her and winds up. Lacrosse players have excellent arms, and the frisbee goes flying. The dog barks happily as it chases it, jumping over the dogs in its path.

“I suppose sports are good for something, after all.” Soleil holds up her right arm, flexing the bicep proudly. Nothings really visible under the thickness of her jacket, but it’s the principle of the gesture that counts.

“If you want to see what else these guns can do, you could always come cheer me on at a game.”

Velouria rolls her eyes. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. I’d look terrible in a cheerleader outfit.”

Soleil grins cheekily, giving Velouria a once-over. “I dunno, I think you’d look great in one.” Velouria blushes, turning her attention back to the dogs.

Velouria tires quickly, probably due to her lack of athletic activity and her dark clothing. They settle underneath a tree, and Soleil tentatively takes her hand. It’s damp from sweat and dog slobber, and kind of sticky from the ice cream, but Soleil has no complaints.

Five o’clock comes all too soon, and her dad texts her that he’s in the parking lot.

They stand up, still holding holds, and face each other. Soleil smiles up at her, gripping her hands a little tighter.

“I had fun. A lot of fun! We should do this again.”

“It went surprisingly well.”

“Hey!”

“You’re doing a great job of melting my cold, cold heart.” Velouria amends, a smile tugging on her lips.

“You’re just a big softie.” Soleil scoffs, sticking her tongue out. “You don’t have to act all aloof.”

“Not around you, I guess. You’ve figured out my secret.” She deadpans.

They fall silent, staring at each other. Soleil bites her lip. Should she kiss her? Is a first date too soon for that? Should she let Velouria make the first move? Maybe a kiss on the lips is just too much? The cheek then, maybe. Or…

Soleil raises their joined hands to her lips, gently kissing the back of Velouria’s hand.

“I’ll see you at school on Monday?” She asks hopefully.

Velouria nods, eyes bright.

“I’ll text you.”

And then they part ways. Soleil makes her way back to the car with a goofy grin on her face. Her lips taste faintly like coffee. For once, she can’t wait for Monday to come.