#thinking about the velvet blues clues thinking chair i had as a kid that was small so it fit my kid size and was mine

[sleebyconfy]

..

[darkstarlight82]

🎥Light, Camera, Cum🎥

💦Camboy!Keigo x Fem!reader AU💦

I never thought that I would be one of "those people". I always thought that people like that where off. But when I saw my first cam boy I was hook. My roommate got me a one month membership of any guy I wanted for my birthday and oh was it an experience. I was so nervous at first and I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't want to look anything up online.

What if the government got a hold of my search history and put me in jail for something naughty. I just started a new job and this would look so bad. I was really scared so I put on the message bored that I was new and I had no clue what to do. Their was a really very nice guy that help me browse the website.

I don't know what came over me but I asked him "Do have a link for your part of the site?" I can't believe that came out of my mouth. I was so shocked at what I said. As I was about to tell him never mind when I got a message in my DM box with his name and a link.

When I clicked on it a web cam picture popped up and what I saw on my screen made my heart fall to the floor. There sat the most handsome, sexiest, fuckabel man I have ever saw. His hair was as gold as a field of wheat. His eyes could put the most richest honey to shame and his body OMG his body. A Greek god would blush and how hard and chiseled his abs were, and with that voice of his.

I thought that I was looking into a different world. We could take our eyes off of each other. I was the first to speak. "Umm... Hi do uh umm do I call you Keigo or do I use a different name when I talk.." My rambling was cut off by his heavenly laugh. "It's okay to call me Keigo my little song bird. If that is what you want to call me?" His voice was soft like velvet and smooth like silk.

I couldn't think straight, my mind was all mush. "I feel more comfortable with your name. Now I have a question and I want you to be honest with me. Can other people see us or is this just us on this link?" He gave me another heavenly laugh. "No song bird it's just you and me. It's like we are in a chat room. No one can see or hear us. Now I do have a room where it's a live feed, I have a donation box that shows the user and the amount they give me, but they can't chat with me unless they send me a DM." When I took a better look and what I could see of his room I could see that he has a lot of different toys and clothes. "Is all that from your donations from your other clients?" When he turned his head to look behind him my body froze and I felt my puss start to water. The muscles of his neck and side flexed in such a way, I had to bite me lip to quite the moan that left my lips.

And I kid you not. I saw his body shivering and his ears turn pink. 'Oh shit did he hear me. Fuck that was hot.' He cleared his throat and turned back you me. "Yes and no. A lot are from sponsors and others are from fans." Knowing what he does I know I should have expected that but for some reason that made me uncomfortable. "Oh well that's understandable." He could tell someone was off so he changed the subject real quick. "So....tell me a little something about yourself song bird." I could tell he was trying to pull me away from the awkward moment we just had. "Well was their anything you want to know, I'm an open book."

He made himself a little more comfortable at his chair. "What is the reason your here. A cute little thing doesn't happen to just show up it of the blue?" I shifted in my seat a bit felling a bit embarrassed. "My roommate got me a one month membership to see if I was going to like something like this." He leaned in his chair closer to the monitor. "Oh really what a nice friend. You want to know something? That's kind of hot." The way the word "hot" rolled of his tongue send a shiver down my spine. His words were like silk to me. "So let me guess you want to use you membership on me for the whole month?" I sat myself straight in my chair. I looked dead at the screen into his honey riched eyes, readying my resolve. "You better believe it and with how much I don't know what I'm doing you better go easy on me."

Again I swear I saw him shiver. "Alright my little song bird I will so nice...(I saw him rub is hand down his chest) and easy. My eyes where glue to the screen. His hands moved ever so softly over his body. "Hey song bird how about we go to somewhere more comfortable?" I looked at him a little nervous. He gave the oh so heavenly laugh. "I mean let's move to over beds. This will be a little more enjoyable for us both." I swallowed hard and shook my head 'yes' ready fast. "I guess someone is really eager." He said as he got himself onto his bed. Seeing him lay their his legs spread, in his black boxer-briefs shirtless his right hand on his thigh and his left hand one his abs, I stared to feel myself start to get wet.

"Don't you think your a little over dressed? Making feel like I'm some piece of meat. What a bad girl. If that doesn't change, I don't think you will get this present I have for you." He said to me as I see him take his hand and palm his self over his boxers. And to this day I still don't know how the hell I managed to get undressed so fast. Now as I say their in nothing but my bra and panties the whole experience was so real and I never felt more alive. "Is this better Keigo?" As his eyes ran over my body I could see his cock jump and become harder. "My god song bird your beautiful." He said as I watched him slip his hands into his boxers and started to rub himself. His words pulled something in my belly as I moved my heads to my breasts pulled softly as my harding nipples.

"Oh~ fuck song bird I'm the one that's supposed to get you all hot and bothered. Fuck this is new." I moved my hand down my stomach down to my pussy taking my fingers and rubbing them over my covers clit. "Fuck Keigo I'm so wet what do you want me to do?" Keigo's eyes blew wide with lust and need. "Shit that's my line but fuck that was hot. Touch yourself and tell me how good it feels." Keeping my eyes locked on the screen watching him go faster up and down on his cock I put my hand down my panties and ran my middle finger over my slit. "Oh holy fuck that feels good." He slowly removed his boxer. "Take off for panties and let me see how much fun your having." I shook my head and took them off and turned to the camera.

"How's this?" I asked as I put my fingers in to my hole. "Ohhh fuck that a good girl. So nice." I moan loudly at his praise. He moved his hand faster now as his tip leaked heavily with pre-cum. "Well shit (his voice was coming out in short breaths) someone has a praise kink. That is so sexy let me hear more my sweet little song bird. So good for me." I yelled out again. "Fuck fuck fuck Keigo this is amazing oh God." I could feel myself getting close and I wanted to see the god-like being in front of we reach his end and I wounded how pretty he would be. "Oh holy fuc..I'm cumming Keigo I'm cumming." He had his eyes fixed on me now watching as I squirted hard. "Oh shit song bird say my name again please be good for me and say it again." I felt myself cum again at his words "Oh Keigo yes.. so good for you fuck Keigo Keigo KEIGO!" As I came again I watched as this god of a man shot thick white ribbons of cum all over his abs and hand.

As I watched him clean himself up I had to ask him. "Why do you do this. You seem like a smart guy can't you find anything better?" He looked at me a little confused. "Well yeah I work at the college that's down the street from my house. I'm a professor their. 'Well shit I didn't peg him as that smart.' "I you don't mind me asking what school do you teach at?" I asked him as I was putting my clothes back on. "Oh I work at UA state. I'm the animal biology teacher." My heart hit the floor and I could feel the color leave my face. "No you can't be...." "Yeah I just start working their on Friday it was a bummer that I couldn't meet the Into to human science teacher. I hear she was really cute." As I looked at the screen I saw the most sexiest but terrifying shit eating grin on his face. "Trust me Y/N your secret is safe with me. I just hope that my little song bird will see me this weekend at my place and reenact what happened tonight."

That was when I first met my now husband and ex-camboy experience.

@arlerts-angel @side-blog-for-fics @tokyo-chainsaw-dragon @tomuraslut @i-literally-cant-with-this @tootiecakes234 @ambassadorarlert @katkusuo @katie91239 @xxj-t @romantichomicide95 @tired-teacher-blog @astriddestelle @sweetchildcloud @bleach-your-panties @pamakali @tojilovr @k1ssyoursister @lucysarah-c @xdyrknymphx @seireiteihellbutterfly @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @sixpennydame @shonen-brainrot @kazutora-kurokawa

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

<3

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋i��͇̩͔́̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

[catxsnow]

NERVOUS J.T.

Request: Hello! I would love a fluffy Jason x reader where he goes and buys a engagement ring and says 'I'm rly nervous what if she says no I'm not good enough for her' and dick says BOI JUST DO IT and he does and fluff and crying (from both reader and Jason?!!! :000).

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m losing followers + Raptors won tonight so HA suck it Celtics 

Word Count: 1.8k

Jason and Dick didn't always see eye to eye. They had their fights and disagreements. Neither of them could be in a room for too long together before one was storming out in rage and frustration. At the end of the day, they were brothers, as much as they didn't always want to be.

So, when Jason showed up at Dick's apartment, out of the blue and in civvies, he was more confused than anything. Jason didn't just come by to have coffee and a chat, he came by for business and that was it. Nonetheless, Dick invited him into his home and offered him a drink.

The couch shook as Jason bounced his leg up and down nervously. It was rare to see him like this - he always exuded confidence. Dick handed him the mug of hot tea and sat on the chair across from him. Without evening having to ask, Jason started to spill why he was so antsy.

"It's (Y/N)."

"Are they okay?" Dick asked, suddenly concerned. He had been the one to introduce you to Jason all those years ago. The two of you clicked instantly and it hadn't taken long for him to fall in love with you. You and Jason had been through lots - running with the Outlaws, fighting along side the Great Batman, the two of you have even been to hell and back

No matter what it was, you were always at Jason's side - and he at yours. Dick had never seen such a perfect couple together, he didn't know what Jason would be like if he didn't have you. As the two of you grew, so did your relationship. You became a more mature couple, not just the young, reckless kids you used to be.

Crime fighting was no longer the priority, it was each other. Jason was always going to keep you safe, whether it was day to day life or stopping crime. You had each other's backs constantly. Now, it was time to make that a little more permanent.

Jason rustled his hand in his pocket to find the small velvet box that he had picked up several weeks ago. To be honest, he had impulsively bought it. Now, he was unsure of what to do with it and nervous as hell about what you would think of it.

"Holy shit, man," Dick's eyes widened as he looked at the beautiful engagement ring inside the box. He grabbed the ring from his brother to look at it better. If he knew you well enough - which he did - Dick knew that you were going to absolutely love this. It was exactly your style. "This is amazing!"

"You think they'll like it?" Jason nervously asked. He had not once brought up the idea of marrying you. For years, you thought that he was just content on how your relationship was - not that you thought any differently. Marriage never seemed like an option for either you, your lives were far too busy.

Jason hadn't thought about it for a long time. He didn't think that he needed to marry you to prove his love to you. But, as he passed that jewelry store, all he could think about would be how stunning you would look walking down the isle. As soon as that image popped into his head, he knew he needed to make it a reality.

"I think they'll love it," Dick confirmed. He handed the ring back over to Jason, who tossed the box around in his hands. The first Robin could tell that he wasn't quite convinced by his answer. "You don't think so?"

"I don't know," Jason admitted. "We've been together for so long, but what if that's just because it's easier this way. What if they don't actually love me? What if they say no? I don't want to lose them just because I want to take this extra step."

"You're not going to lose (Y/N), Jaybird," Dick assured. There was no one more perfect for Jason, than you. Everyone knew that, the second that they saw you guys together they assumed that you had already been married. Hell, half the time you acted like it. "They love you, more than anything. Besides, (Y/N) is the best thing to have ever happened to you, there's no way you'll give up on that love so easily."

"Has (Y/N) ever talked to you about a wedding?" Jason asked. He knew that you were friends with Dick for a long time, if there was anyone that would hear about your secrets, it was him. As much as he didn't like you being friends with his older brother, there were times that he was thankful for it.

"No," Dick shook his head. You had never even toyed with the idea of marriage, or maybe you had just kept your thoughts silent. Either way, neither of the men had a clue about what you thought of it. "They're happy with you no matter what. Propose to them, they'll be excited. I know it."

"I hope you're right, Dick."

><

In all your time that you had known Jason, he had never seemed nervous to you.

Jason was always confident in everything he did - or at least showed that he was. Whether it was beating the ever living hell out of someone or flirting with you, he showed that he knew exactly what he was doing. That was one of the things you loved about him - he was confident.

In all your time that you had known him, Jason proved every day how much he loved you. Whether it was making you breakfast in the morning, buying you flowers out of the blue, or being the hidden romantic that he likes to be. There has never been a time that you doubted his love for you.

For the first time in a long time, Jason had offered to take you on a date. The two of you got dressed up all fancy and headed to some expensive restaurant that you weren't sure you could afford. It was a pleasant surprise to see Jason dressed up in a suit. He looked handsome, but when didn't he?

Throughout the entire night, Jason wavered been the utmost adoration for you, and a state of anxiety. You could see this struggle within him, and upon asking why, he didn't give you a straight answer. Jason often shrugged off his feelings, even when it came to you. It wasn't a surprise when he did it again.

In the end, you had a delicious meal, and an excellent time with Jason, even though you were still worried about him. You hadn't noticed, but Jason continuously shifted the small velvet box in his pocket. That was the reason he had been so nervous.

Jason had full intentions to ask you while you were having your dinner. He had chickened out at every opportunity that he had gotten. Now, the two of you were walking hand in hand as the sun set in the sky. Your home wasn't far away, and instead of hailing a ride, you decided to walk. Any peaceful time spent with Jason was well worth anything.

"You've been acting off all night, Jay," You brought up, again. Jason's hand tightened around yours for a brief moment. "Are you sure you're okay? Bruce isn't getting to you again is he? I'll got talk to him, he doesn't scare me, you know." Yes he did.

Jason chuckled at you, just another thing that he loved about you. You were always willing to protect him against all odds. "No, I haven't talked to Bruce in months," Jason assured you. He stuck his hand in his pocket once more, the heat of the box burning through his skin. "I love you."

"I love you, too," you reached up to kiss him. Jason smiled into the kiss before pulling away. His smile quickly turned into a frown. This had only made you more nervous about what was going through his head at the moment. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just," Jason stuttered over his words. Seeing him nervous like this, it wasn't something you were used to. "I love you, more than anything in this world. And I know that this life that I'm trapped in isn't ideal, and I'm sorry for dragging you in it. But, I wouldn't change anything if it meant I got to have you for the rest of my life.

"You mean everything to me, and I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the person that drives me to be better, to come come home every night. You're the reason that I smile and laugh. I guess what I'm trying to say is... (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?"

Jason pulled out the box from his pocket. Just as he was nontraditional in every sense possible, he was with this as well. Instead of getting on a knee, Jason held the opened box towards you, an obvious tremble in his hands. He was far too nervous to move from his spot and get down to the ground.

Tears stung your eyes, never had you imagined Jason would want to get married. You always assumed that he was happy with your relationship and never needing to conform to society's wish of marriage. You were content with that, but marriage was always something you wanted, only with him.

All the words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You wanted to scream to the world that you were going to marry the man you loved. You wanted everyone to know just how lucky you were. Instead, all you could manage was a head nod and a massive grin on your face. Jason's nerves finally broke.

He matched the grin that you had and wrapped you in his arms. Without any effort at all, Jason hoisted you off the ground and spun you around. As soon as your feet touch the cement, your lips were on his. he had been beyond excited that you were just as happy as he was about this step.

Jason plucked the ring from the box and smoothly slid it on your finger. It suited you just perfectly - as much as he didn't want to admit it, Dick was right. Jason wiped the tears streaming down your face, followed by wiping his own.

"I love you, Jason," You kissed him once more. Jason no longer cared that you were in the middle of the sidewalk. People walking by as you were completely engrossed with each other. He couldn't bare the thought of letting you go, feared that your acceptance of his proposal was nothing but his imagination.

"Dick was right," Jason chuckled. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he was bringing up his brother at a moment like this. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

[faunusrights]

Citrus Summers (GWS AU)

just had this idea nip into my head... i really wanna do more with menagerie and the scarlatina fam but for now have this lil snapshot of velvet growing up :)

great weiss shark au, weiss's pronouns are she/her, velvet's pronouns are she/they

###

"So, what was your hometown like?"

Velvet's used to Weiss's interest in her life; they come from two radically different ends of some bonkers spectrum of lifestyles, where one end (Velvet's) is radical self-acceptance, anti-cop sentiment, and a Scroll full to bursting with communist memes, whilst the other end (Weiss's) is... well, to be honest, Velvet doesn't like to think about what that end entails, exactly. All she knows is that it was exactly what a young shark Faunus without any clue as to her heritage didn't need. So, Velvet entertains her with stories of growing up in the deserts of Menagerie, of her time running along the trash-strewn beaches of Kuo Kuana, of her years shooting up like a weed under the relentless freckling kisses of the bright and vibrant sun.

Sometimes Velvet can tell she can't quite wrap her head around how different their lives are, yet have somehow ended up on such an intersection as to be able to call each other friends. Velvet just goes with the flow about it all.

"Well, we didn't have a hometown, really," Velvet starts, attention half-drawn to sets of plans scattered about her desk in her dorm. She's got big plans to improve Anesidora's projector and fix the information compression problems; drawing a flat 2D image into a 3D projection has always been a sticking point, but she's nearly got it down to the extent that her wireframe tests very nearly reveal the dents and dings and imperfections that it'd previously ironed out by mistake. Accuracy is key, and she crawls ever closer to a perfect 1-to-1 copy each and every day. It's just really boring work, is all. "We lived outside of the nearest town by a couple of miles, but we went there pretty regularly, so I guess you could call it that."

Weiss hums, letting herself fall back onto Velvet's unmade bed, the handwoven blankets of orange and black brought straight over from the homeland and still gritty with red dirt to prove it. "What's it called?"

"Desert Sands. Very original, I know."

"You know a lot of the people there?"

"Shit, they trade us meat and gas for potatoes and carrots and tomatoes, not to mention almost everyone there immigrated in a group with my grandparents. I know that town like my own family."

"What's your favourite thing there?"

That pulls Velvet up short, and she worries at her bottom lip as she stares as a variety of absolutely godawful equations. Thank the maidens Weiss has given her something meaty to say, because she can't bear the idea of redoing all this horrible maths. "Uh, probably the inn, as everyone else who lives there would say. Can't go wrong with a good old fashioned pint and a few rounds of pool."

"Even as a kid?" Weiss says, and Velvet can hear the raised brow even though she can't quite see it.

"Even as a kid," Velvet agrees. "My mam had a couple of pints and my da flirted with the guys and I'd go out with my siblings to meet our friends and raise a little hell. Not very often, but often enough."

Weiss goes sort of quiet, in a way that Velvet recognises as an intensive processing of what she's just heard. She wonders, briefly, if Weiss can even imagine that sort of freedom after a childhood spent locked in the same old rooms of the same old house--even when it's as big as the Schnee manor--and then pushes that thought away. If Weiss wants to ever get into all that, it'll be in her own time.

"Describe it to me?" Weiss asks in a very little voice after a few seconds, and Velvet nods. She can do that. She remembers those halcyon days like they were yesterday.

###

"Trench, I swear, if you don't repaint those window sills I'm gonna sneak down here and do it myself, asshole."

This was about as typical an entry as Taffeta Scarlatina could ever make, shouldering open the dark wood door into the Desert Sands Inn with a grin on her face and children in tow, Ash bringing up the rear and trying to pretend he couldn't see everyone turn in their seats to look to the new arrivals. It was one of those establishments with a big boxy interior and just a handful of rooms to the side, where the only three doors led into the toilets and the kitchens and the stairwell to the rooms above, and much like everything else on Menagerie, nothing ever matched; the doors had been collected from a variety of sources, the floorboards uneven and scratched and recut, the paint on the walls patchy with mismatched shades and covered with picture frames in some last-ditch attempt to hide it. No two stools matched, no three tables carved by the same hand, but that was the price of the community effort--everything you ever needed, maybe just not in the way you always expected.

"Taffeta," Trench greeted from behind the bar, turning to fetch a pair of glasses without prompting whilst making sure not to jostle the hanging bottles overhead with his great buffalo horns, split like a strange middle parting on the top of his head. "You're welcome to it, to be frank; Cinna doesn't have a clue where she's put the paint, last we saw it."

Taffeta rolled her eyes, letting go of Velvet's hand to pat her between her ears instead, the ten year old quick to laugh and duck away. "I'm sure. Not at all like I said I have some lying around the last three times I was here. You really that scared of scraping all that flaking paint off?"

"Well," Trench said after a moment, leaning under the bar for a second. "I did get some in my eyes last time, and boy, that hurted. You want your usual?"

"Pint of porter for me, and something weak for my pretty boy, lest he forget which way is up," Taffeta agreed, shooting a wink Ash's way and cackling when he blushed. "And some juice boxes for the kids?"

Trench didn't even pause, turning about to fish out a variety of colourful cartons adorned with a collection of cartoon characters, and Taffeta lifted Velvet up to plop her onto one of the few cushioned stools, Chiffon quick to use her older, longer limbs to scramble her own way up. Trench offered the drinks out freely, letting them decide between orange and passionfruit flavours, before noticing the new addition on Ash's hip. "Oh? This the newest Scarlatina?"

Satin--hardly a year old--was clinging to her da's loose shirt, dark eyes looking about in wonder, and Taffeta smiled before reaching over to brush her loose, light hair out of her eyeline. "Sure is. Gettin' real big already, so we thought it was high time to meet the folks around here. She won't be the last, though." At that, Taffeta leant across the bar, dropping her voice low. "Would you believe me if I said Ash is already askin' for the next one?"

"Slander," Ash shot back, face still pink. "I just said four is a rounder number than three."

Trench made a face, glancing pointedly away. "My girl woulda mounted my horns on the wall for that one. We had just the one and she swore off the rest before I could even consider it. Count yourself lucky."

"Cinnamon's a good kid," Ash offered, rearranging Satin to sit a little nicer in his lap. "I think that all worked out in the end."

Taffeta rolled her eyes, watching as Velvet picked the orange juice for herself, leaving the eldest to the passionfruit. "Doesn't that imply we have so many 'cause you don't think just one was good enough? Chiff's a darling, if a bit of a pain in my ass, huh, baby?"

Chiffon ignored them both to instead help Velvet punch the straw into the carton, and Ash grinned. "Just one was perfect, but you told me yourself that you don't think I know when to fold."

"You don't," Trench interjected, pouring out a pint of something dark and bitter enough to linger on the tongue. "When we played poker last year... phew. Thank the maidens it was a couple's night, else you woulda been walking home absolutely stark--"

"--drunk," Taffeta quickly interrupted, glancing towards the kids who stared back with wide eyes. "Been walking home absolutely stark... trashed. Wasted. Uh, Trench, what's on the menu today, whilst it's on my mind?"

As they discussed the menu (Taffeta eager to point out the contributions of the family crops, asking, overly sweetly, and who traded you those lovely chickens? they must have been very generous), Chiffon turned to Ash in her seat, legs swinging freely, bumping into the overly-varnished wood of the bar. "Da? Can me 'n Velv go out and play?"

"Sure can, kiddo," Ash said, though he was quick to grab Chiffon's arm before she could throw herself off the stool with the straw still in her mouth. "Woah, take that out first before you end up swallowing it. You remember the rules?"

Chiffon nodded, face cast all seriously. "Don't go outta town. Be back before dark. If someone tries to bully us, punch 'em in the nose."

"And?" Ash added, drawing his brows together.

Velvet chirped up. "Cops aren't friends!"

At that, Ash broke out into a grin, as bright as Velvet's and twice as toothy. "That's right. You go have fun, and don't eat too many snacks; we're having dinner here before we go home."

Chiffon slid free of her stool, turning about to help Velvet down too, and then the pair scampered towards the door with a harmonised yes da! before pulling it open to the main road outside, the sunlight blisteringly bright, the sky an endless, cloudless blue overhead. The paint on the windowsill peeled off and flecked away, and under their shoes, the ground crunched.

Everything tasted of oranges.

###

Weiss sits silently.

"Did you get back before dark?"

Velvet snorts, sitting back in her chair until it creaks dangerously below. "Just about, though my mam didn't look all that impressed. Still, can't do much about it; we didn't even have, like, landline calls back then, let alone Scrolls and shit."

Weiss laughs to herself, rolling over and tucking her legs up onto Velvet's bed until she's curled atop the blankets, running a thumb over the wool quietly, repetitively. Truth is, they still smell of Menagerie, of home; Velvet could wash it a thousand times, but the earthy scent of hot summers and prickling scrublands sticks like its own aura.

"I'm jealous," Weiss says simply, and then she draws the blankets up to partly cocoon herself, tight across the ribs, loose about the ankles. "Will I... would you show me it, sometime? If I went there?"

It's sweet. Velvet wishes she could travel through time and show it to Weiss from the start; she wishes she could have told her what she would have, in the future. Look, see? This is real. You can have this too. Happiness doesn't only exist for people far away; you get to feel this, too.

"Of course," Velvet says with a smile, instead. "Bold if you to think my parents don't demand they meet every single last one of my friends."

Weiss grins back, all shark-toothed and sharp, and Velvet likes how it looks on her face. It took her team months to eek it out of her more often than every couple of weeks, but now, it's practically daily. "I'm afraid the offer doesn't extend back to you."

"Thanks the maidens," Velvet says, very seriously. "Because if I ever meet your dad, I'm setting his car alight."

[blakemetothemoon]

Love in a Laundromat - 7/? - SaifahZon, M

Notes: Soooo with everything going on, my NaNo has kind of changed into me focusing on this fic and I'm super okay with it. Thank you for all the support on this!

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Read here or on ao3! :)

Marley Coffee Bar is only a short, five minute walk away, but it feels like ages.

Awkward pauses linger, like now that they aren't in the laundromat playing music they don't know how to talk. Saifah seems like he has something he wants to tell Zon, but every time he speaks, it's something mundane that comes out. Comments on the humidity, or how classes are going. There's this noticeable space between them Zon swears wasn't there before the party. Zon is starting to wonder if he’s the only one thinking about those intense moments of touching and moving together and kissing at all. In fact, Saifah barely looks at Zon. His eyes don't linger on Zon's lips like he’s caught them doing more than once…

And that’s when it hits Zon like a brick wall what Saifah is trying to say: that night was a mistake.

Of course, Zon thinks. Of course Saifah regrets it. He’s Saifah, and Zon is Zon, and—

"Here it is!" Saifah says, yanking Zon out of the heavy thoughts starting to weigh him down.

Zon glances up at the shop beneath the white “Marley Coffee Bar” sign and crinkles his brow at the darkened building, chairs on tables and no staff bustling about inside. “Um, it looks closed."

Saifah holds the door open for Zon and gestures for him to take a right instead of a left into the other side of the entrance where the lighting is dim and soft, jazzy music plays from an overhead speaker. “It’s a bar, too. Mostly wine and beer, but they’ve got some coffee-flavored cocktails and small plates.”

The barista-bartender is all smiles as he approaches them, white towel thrown over his shoulder. ‘Ban’ is handwritten pretty in white on his nametag. Ban raises an eyebrow when he notices the guitar on Saifah’s back. “Saifah! You’re not scheduled to play tonight, are you?”

“No, I’m just here with a…,” Saifah pauses. Then, he smiles softly and brushes past, smoothing out the wrinkle of hesitation like it was never there. “With a friend from university. This is Zon.”

Still stuck on Saifah’s pause—why did Saifah pause? What was he going to say? What was he ashamed to say?— Zon’s bow and greeting comes out a little awkward. Then, he glances up at the giant menu. Written in fancy, gold script, it stretches from one side of the bar to the next. Coffee, a column of roast types, teas, a beer and wine list, signature cocktails, food. Zon’s head starts to spin as he takes it all in.

“Just a cup of coffee black," he finally says. "Whatever the darkest roast is.”

“And the usual for me,” Saifah tells Ban. Then, he turns to Zon. “I’m going to put my guitar on the stage out of the way. I’ll grab our drinks on the way back, you go grab one of the booths.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zon grumbles out of principle, but wanders off to do what Saifah demanded, ignoring the amusement in both Saifah and Ban’s faces. 

Only a few other people are in the bar: a couple conversing with each other at the bar, another at the booth closest to the stage, and a group of five girls at a table. Every single one watches Saifah as he walks to the stage, their gazes more than fleeting, innocent interest. Zon makes a face and rolls his eyes before dropping into the closest booth, tossing his backpack onto the seat next to him. While he waits for Saifah to grab the drinks, he finally takes in the coffee shop-bar hybrid.

Marley Coffee Bar is this bizarre mix of antique and modern, like a coffee shop version of those speakeasies he’s read about in old American novels. The chandelier lights are all different shapes and types, and the booths are made of red leather, while the wooden tables are rustic grey. There’s a mahogany curtain next to the line of booths to separate the bar from the coffee shop; it’s velvet and soft when he loses against the urge to touch it. The stage is the only part Zon recognizes, thanks to all those fan videos of Saifah. It’s small and intimate, while the grand black piano next to it adds another level of class he didn’t expect when Saifah invited him to a coffee shop.

Zon is finding the whole mix-match of it kind of...inspiring? His fingers twitch, craving to write. Songs, stories, a new world with Marley Coffee Bar at the center of characters' lives. And this is where Saifah plays? He’s part of creating this atmosphere, part of the reason people come here?

“Really amazing, isn’t it?” Saifah says as he finally slides into the booth across from Zon.

So are you, Zon thinks. He barely stops himself from saying it out loud.

Saifah’s now sans guitar and holding four drinks. He sets them down without spilling a drop. Zon’s black drip coffee is in a mug the size of his face. The marble is a faded blue. Saifah’s drink is in a tall white glass with, “est. 1929” in golden scrawl. It’s completely different from Zon’s, like there is no consistency beyond the cups having history that customers can converse over.

“What are those?” Zon asks, pointing to the extra drinks.

“Ban made them. On the house, since it’s your first time here.”

“It’s not yours though, so why do you get one?

“VIP,” Saifah says and winks.

Zon snorts. “You’re so cocky.”

It’s one hundred percent not a compliment, and he did a great job of keeping any sort of endearment out of his voice. But it doesn’t stop Saifah from looking annoyingly proud of himself. Zon reaches across the table to smack Saifah’s head, and the taller man grunts even though Zon had put barely any force behind it.

Saifah pushes both cocktails into the center in a peace offering. “This one is basically a cold brew with rum and orange, and this one is a white russian. And if you don’t want to drink that’s fine, too.”

There goes Saifah being all considerate and annoying. Except it’s not annoying, it’s stupidly attractive, and it makes Zon all frazzled and giddy.

“Which is your favorite?” he replies.

“The white russian."

“You have that one.” Zon grabs the cold brew with rum before Saifah can accommodate him again. His head is already a mess trying to read Saifah tonight, he doesn’t need another reason to fucking swoon. Plus the drink he grabbed is so good, he has to immediately take another sip.

“So…” Zon continues, setting his cup back down on the table, enjoying the coldness against his clammy hands. “This is where you play?”

Saifah nods. “Most Wednesdays and sometimes when they do open mic nights on Saturdays. They raise the curtain and keep both sides open for those.” He glances back over his shoulder to the stage, then turns back to Zon with a trademark smirk. “You know, there aren’t that many people here. Ban would probably have no problem if we played a song or two.”

The suggestion instantly makes Zon’s stomach plummet. “No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun—”

“I said no, Saifah.”

Saifah seems taken aback, and Zon flinches, realizing the harshness of his tone a moment too late.

“It’s just—”

“No, I get it,” Saifah interrupts, saving Zon from fumbling out an explanation. “You’ve never even sang in front of someone before until recently. At least, not knowingly—ow!”

Saifah rubs his head again because Zon had hit him considerably harder that time.

"Stop bringing that up!” Zon snaps. “And how can I perform in front of people I don't know when I've never even practiced? If it was just us alone in your room or something, it would be diff…”

He slams his mouth shut, but the words are already out there, lingering and heavy with all sorts of implications, and Saifah definitely heard him because he looks both awed and then devious at the same time.

“Oh?” Saifah says, the word tilting like he’s singing it. "You wanna be alone in my room with me?"

“Music!” Zon rushes out. “Just to make music!”

“There are a lot of different kinds of music we can make—Zon, wait!” Saifah laughs as he grabs Zon by the wrist to stop him from storming off. “I’m kidding!”

Saifah gently tugs Zon's wrist and pulls him down into the booth next to him. The touch is so light, but his fingers burn heat into Zon's skin, and he hopes Saifah can't feel the sudden racing of his pulse. Thankfully, Saifah lets him go. Not so thankfully, Saifah slides his arm over the back of the booth, and he's so freakishly long, his hand can dangle over the edge. Saifah also has no trouble pulling Zon’s drinks to this side of the table, and now it would be too awkward for him to switch seats again, but… if he ignores the logic part of his brain, he knows he doesn’t want to.

There’s a soft buzzing against Zon’s leg. He thinks it’s his phone but quickly realizes it’s Safaih’s. In Saifah’s pocket. Which is pressing against Zon’s thigh because they’re sitting that close to each other, and now that he’s aware of it, it’s all he can focus on. When Saifah shifts to pull out his phone, Zon jolts at the movement.

“You’re pretty popular,” he says to distract from it.

“Well, obviously,” Saifah replies, meeting Zon’s snark with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. “But this time it’s just Day.”

“Day? Tutor’s friend?”

“Hey, hey, that hurts. You know who Day is but had no clue who I was when we met?”

Zon feels his cheeks grow hot which is dumb because he has nothing to be embarrassed about, just because he didn’t know who Saifah was. Maybe Saifah is popular with his music and maybe he’s a good friend of Tutor’s and maybe he’s so tall Zon would have at least noticed him once across campus. Maybe, considering all those things, some embarrassment was justified. Not that Saifah needs to know that.

“With how many adoring fans you have, I highly doubt me not knowing who you are means much.”

Again, Saifah looks like he wants to bring something up but drops his gaze back to his phone. He doesn’t sound particularly casual when he says, “I posted a new video earlier. Day likes to screenshot some of the more… fanatic comments.”

Zon doesn’t need to see the screenshots to know what those are like; he’d read plenty of them when he was looking up Saifah that one night weeks ago. (And a few more times, but only because they were playing music together and he wanted to know more about Saifah’s style. Research. It’s important when it comes to being a writer.)

Saifah is still reading through Day’s messages, and Zon is feeling the slightest bit ignored so he asks, “Do you want my line?”

They’re still pressed together; Zon feels immediately when Saifah’s entire body goes rigid. He raises his head slowly, like a puppet on a string. “Do you… want to give me your line?”

With an annoyed huff, Zon grabs Saifah’s phone and quickly goes to the contacts. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Saifah laughs when Zon hands the phone back. “ ‘Zon-Zon-Zon-Zon’ is your username?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then give it back, I’m deleting it!”

“Nope, nope!” Saifah hits the call button and wiggles his eyebrows when Zon’s phone rings. “Allow me to honor you with mine, too.”

After he digs his phone out of his pocket, Zon swipes his thumb, making a show of ignoring the call. Saifah’s affronted gasp makes it hard for Zon to keep a serious face, and he laughs. Apparently, regretting their make out session still doesn't stop Saifah from flirting with him. (This is flirting, right?)

“A giraffe?” Saifah says, incredulous, as he watches Zon set his contact name. “You’re using a giraffe emoji?”

“It’s the most accurate,” Zon replies with a smile, enjoying Saifah’s pout. Then, he sets his phone down and takes a long drink of his coffee, working up the courage for what he’s about to say next: “Okay.”

Despite the sudden backtrack in conversation, Saifah picks up what Zon is replying to. "Okay?"

The opening to back out is tempting, and Zon… he's scared but he wants to do this. "Let's do it. Write songs. At your place."

Zon doesn't expect silence. It stretches so long he finally has to look at Saifah to gauge the other's expression. His lips are tight and his small brown eyes are completely unaffected. "Okay. We can do that."

"Hey," Zon pouts, "why do you sound so unhappy now that I agreed?"

Saifah grabs Zon's arm and shakes it playfully. "My Zon, my Zon! I'm so sorry! Please come play in my room with me!"

Zon feels his entire face grow hot with a fierce blush, and he shakes Saifah's hand off. But before he can scold Saifah, the other unlocks his phone and opens YouTube.

“By the way, there’s a song I think would be fun to do together," Saifah says. "You know ‘Shallow’, right? I found this really pretty acoustic cover of it. Or we can do whatever you want. Maybe that Pardon Me song you wrote? I've been coming up with a bridge that I think works. I can teach you how to play guitar, too—” His excitement suddenly simmers when he meets Zon’s wide doe eyes. Like knowing he has Zon's rapt attention makes him nervous. He clears his throat and pushes a smirk. “You’ll have to ask me reallllly nice, though.”

Zon is about to remind Saifah he’s the one who brought it up. But Saifah’s enthusiasm is endearing and his closeness is a warmth Zon leans into without meaning to, and he can’t help but play along. “Oh, wonderful, Mr. Saifah. Please teach me how to play guitar with your paramount skills.”

The music video starts playing, but Saifah keeps the volume low so only they can hear. He hums and he sets his phone on the table. Then, like the coffee bar and Zon's answer have wiped away all that uncertainty he's been struggling with all night, he says, “I might need better convincing than that.”

For the first time that night, Zon catches Saifah looking at him like he did before The Party. In his eyes is that same heat he had when pressing Zon against that door before stealing his lips and his breath. A heat that holds words he isn’t saying but that Zon can read. The twisting confusion in Zon’s chest tightens while his entire being flares, burning hot and craving. He swallows against the lump in his throat and his mouth is dry as a desert. He chugs half his cocktail to try and moisten it, but his voice still cracks when he replies, "Guess I'll have to think of something."

Then, Zon presses in closer to Saifah's side, pretending he's more interested in the song than kissing Saifah until they're breathless.

[marvel-love19]

Can Love Be Found? Series

Chapter 1

Description: Katelyn wants to find love, and having an arrange marriage is not going to help finding that. Katelyn does not hate Tom before she meets him but once she met her fiance, who’s smile doesn’t make his eyes, makes Katelyn fight harder to not go through with this marriage. She is not marrying a man like her father. Tom has nothing to fight against this marriage, but Katelyn do. She wants love, and she is going to get it. But will she find that love with Tom? Will she be able to find a way out of the marriage? Or does Katelyn want the marriage in the end?

Mob!Tom Holland x Katelyn Veer (I will be writing this as an “x reader” but not right now.)

Warning(s): None that I know of. Does have a mention of alcohol, but nothing else.

Type: Fluff(ish), some anger

Words: 3,558 words

A/N: Please enjoy. I haven’t written in forever. I love my idea. And I can’t wait to continue to this. NOTICE! I do not own Tom Holland. I have not met the man or know him personally. This is just for my story, so please hold nothing against me Tom! THANK YOU!

(https://tomandlorenzo.com/2019/06/tom-holland-in-ermenegildo-zegna-at-the-spider-man-far-from-home-los-angeles-premiere/tom-holland-spider-man-far-from-home-los-angeles-premiere-red-carpet-fashion-ermenegildo-zegna-tom-lorenzo-site-1/) Credit to photographer!

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“No.” 

“No? What do you—”

“No, father. That is what I mean.”

“You can’t say n—”

“I just did.”

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What is love? Many people claim that they don’t want love, or they are good at being alone in life because they have their career or no relationship has worked out. But we all crave someone to love us in a romantic way. To love us for who we are and tolerate your minor issues and accept the baggage of your history. We all want that type of love.

So then why am I being forced to marry a guy I haven’t met and don’t get a chance to find that love we all crave? No idea? Me either.

That is where we are. I was just told I am to be married to a guy I have no clue who he is, I only know him as a file my father placed in front of me. Why do I need to know his shoe size? I honestly have nothing against my fiance; just against being used as a business pawn.

Why in fairy tales does the eldest daughter have to marry off to better her country? I am no princess and I am not being sold as one. I have read arranged marriages, and I am a sucker for romance. Falling in love with the guy you hated, it turns out he liked you too, and the marriage isn’t a trap, happily ever after! But no. Reality check. Firstly, no parent forces their child to marry a stranger. Secondly, no one falls in love like that. Divorces are more common than marriage itself. Did my parents really think I would agree with this? Who would agree to this in the 21st century?

I want to marry a man who loves me for me. Not for a business deal, for my body or money. Love, little girls dream for their future. Dreaming of meeting their soulmate, holding hands, getting married, having kids; waking up with the sun streaming in, being snuggled up enjoying each other’s company before the kids wake up and ruin the moment, and to say I love you softly so only we can hear each other and feel our heartbeats being intertwined. The constant thought of the life of love they want is always creeping in the back; too strong to ignore.

I’m not giving up on that. I want it, and I am getting it.

______________________________________________________________

Deep brown doors separate my rage getting out of control. Muffled voices are only heard. Pacing is doing nothing to differ my emotions and get a clear mind to enact my plan for my freedom.

“I would advise you to unclench your fists before you actually punch someone, daughter.” Unnoticed my father swung the heavy doors open to reveal an unexpected someone who I wish to have never seen. “Now, wipe that ugly frown on your beautiful face, you have someone I want you to meet.”

My father, Henry Veer. People love him for the mask before their eyes, but once someone isn’t watching… you do not want to know who he is. Light dirty sandy blonde hair with a pearly white smile that never meets his eyes to make it genuine. Blue eyes that never reveal his true emotions, with an intimidating stature that haunts people’s dreams. Love is not a word in his vocabulary, it never exists for him and he makes it non-existent for others. Buying love is how he communicates he knows nothing about love, and that words convey everything that isn’t there. Closed doors he is a selfish, rude, and enraging human being who emotional tolls on everyone. I do have to give credit to my father for being a hard worker, is good at negotiation, fights for what he wants, and is smart in things other than emotions and love. This is just another reason why I do not wish to marry this way. I want to find and marry a man I know will not be like my father. But like my father, I am a fighter for what I want; and I am not giving up without a fight.

Sweeping his arm for me to come into the room, he smiles fakely ready to marry me off already. Stepping into that room with the man I am to marry is insane, yet I do it. Meeting my fiance when I only expected to talk with my father. Each step felt more of my life being sold to this man who had his back to me and the more I stared at his back, the more I wish I had laser eyes. My heels clicking gained the attention of my fiance’s father to stand up.

Dominic Holland, multi-billionaire, with a successful career in stand-up comedy, and a children’s book author. A blue suit complements his short stature and brown hair. Shoes polished to reflect like a mirror. Dominic Holland readjusts his diamond cuff links and produces a smile on the line of fake or real. But one thing that smile hides is that he is the leader, who recently handed down the position to the man I am to marry, of Holland Mob Company. Those hands have killed men, touched drugs, written death notes, and own trillions of money underground. Another reason to want to get out of this arranged marriage.

My feet stop two feet away from the father of my fiance. I do not dare to glance down at my future husband. Golden locks tied up in a high ponytail as light curls fall to frame my face. Tight, high waisted, skinny jeans hold my legs in place, pronouncing my curves proudly to the world. A sweetheart neckline directs the peach coloured silk to accentuate my breasts, as my sleeves fan drape down at my elbows. Black four-inch heels pull my commanding outfit together with a brown smokey eye and nude lip gloss. I am beautiful and I know it.

“Miss Veer, it is wonderful to meet you in person.” Shaking hands with Dominic, I hear my father come up behind me.

“Dominic, this is my daughter, Katelyn Veer.” My father places and uncomfortable hand on my shoulder, bringing me closer to his overly spritzed cologne suit. Guiding me, he takes us for a sit on the couch opposite of our guests. Velvet cushions only for my father’s office. In my father’s office is his big deep brown desk with a crimson velvet chair. On the other side of the desk are two chairs with the same velvet. Across the room to where we are is a couch, coffee table between our guests and us, with two more chairs. A fireplace near my father’s desk and a big bright chandelier in the center of the room.

Once settled down, I remove my father’s hand from my shoulder and scooch over to create distance between him. I feel my father’s glare as I stare down at my hands trying to find out a new way to bring up my plan without being rude towards our guests.

“Such a beautiful bride. This is my son, Tom Holland.”

After trying to avoid looking at my fiance, I couldn’t be rude and not shake hands with him. My eyes finally fell on the man I am to marry against my will.

Curls… muscles… perfect teeth… chocolate eyes... 

Tom Holland, leader of Holland Mob Company, trillions of dollars to his name. A deep wine red suit clings tightly to his broad shoulders as he stood. Perfectly tailored to accentuate the muscles underneath the thick material. With the absence of a tie, three buttons undone to expose a small peek at his smooth, hairless chest. Dragging his fingers through his dark chocolate hair makes a few stray curls rest on his forehead. Trailing my eyes down his face, I can’t find anything I hate about his face. Stupid face! Be ugly! Deep chocolate brown eyes are the only thing I can focus on. A world of emotions I yearn to discover, but I remember that I don’t want to marry him. I want to control my future, I want to find love. But yet… I can’t look away.

My father nudges my arm shaking me to break eye contact with my fiance. I glace towards my father to see his eyes trail to Tom’s outstretched hand. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I sheepishly stand up and take Tom’s hand and shake it. I can’t let Tom distract me from my mission and if I have to, I will enact it in front of him. Tom’s hand is callused but with a softness to how he holds my hand in his. Once done shaking do I notice is that Tom’s smile doesn’t meet his eyes. So the soft handshake and smile are fake. Just to impress his father? Or me? I do not attempt to smile back at the man before me, instead, I remove my attraction towards him from my mind. I need to focus on my plan to get out of this. I am not marrying for love. I am not getting married in general. This wedding will be off. I am not marrying a fake man.

Once I get my bearings when seated I sent a glare towards my fiance. Tom widens his eyes slightly, out of shock. Reading him isn’t so hard as I learn how to do it with everyone. As I continue to glare towards Tom, my father shifts slightly in his seat out of embarrassment and nerves. Dominic rubs his hands on his legs to gesture that he knows this meeting isn’t going to go the way he wants it. And lastly, Tom. Still glaring at him, he straightens his back as if uncomfortable with the seat but really with my stare. His eyes try not to break contact with mine, as if trying to be stronger than me. But this marriage benefits him, not me. He’s not fighting for something I am, and I am going to win. Tom shifts once more, I smirk and lean back on the couch. His eyes widen once more.

Gotcha.

“Anyone want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Beer? Whiskey?” My father waves down the butler towards us. Side glancing towards the butler, “I’ll take whiskey with ice. Dominic?”

“Whiskey as well,” Dominic adds to Jason’s list of drinks. “With ice please.”

Bringing up drinks made the tension dial down which I wish for the tension, I am in charge and everyone needs to know it. I lean back, crossing my legs and turning towards Jason the butler.

“Jason, I would love a cup of tea, please.” Jason is usually the person who got me tea while I worked outside on my writings or reading. He is in his late thirties but many people mistake him for being older because of his salt and pepper hair and his heavy face. Jason has been working for my father for seven years and my father has not tried to learn his name over the course of that time. I am the only one who says please towards any of the staff. I may be lazy but my manners are not.

Smiling at my order, Jason knows how to make every tea that I want. Happy days I want something full of flavour and sweetness. Sad days I want a bitter taste in my tea. When it’s late, he makes sure to get a soothing tea to make me fall asleep and go to bed. I honestly have no clue how he has tea for everything and makes it perfect every time.

“Any specific type of tea, Miss Veer?”

“Surprise me, Jason. Thank you.” Jason nods with a glint of excitement in his light blue eyes. I smile, knowing how much Jason loves to surprise me with new tea. Another reason I do not wish to go through with this marriage is that I will lose Jason—

“I will indulge in this surprise tea as well, Jason.”

Excuse me?

Tom smirks as he relaxes into his seat, pleased with himself for unsettling me. No one ever wants my type of tea. They either want earl gray, white, black, or green. None of my tea has caffeine, its got my name on them; my tea is only for me. No one drinks it. Ever.

“Is that all?” I stay where I am, not giving anything away to Tom. It may have thrown me off my game that he wanted to drink my tea, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes, that is all Jason.” My father waves him off, turning his attention to the Hollands. “Dominic, how is your company dealing with the recent laws for labour workers?”

“We are handling it much better than others in the business. But some parts have suffered and I have been busier in work than ever.”

“Same here. Cuts are going to soon be made to most parts that are suffering.”

I block the rest of the conversation out of mind. The want to listen to law changes labour workers is not something I need to distract my mind. How will I enact my plan? As I stare down at my hands I feel a stare on me. Glancing up, I make contact with Tom’s eyes.

Why the heck are you staring at me? Speaking through my eyes.

Tom’s eyes say nothing in return. So now he wants to mask his emotions.

Rolling my eyes, I rise out of velvet cushions. The conversation between my father and Dominic continues as I move towards the fireplace. I need to get my bearings. I can’t let Tom get to me. My father knew that Tom would distract me; that’s why my father invited them. I find many men attractive. I do not deny that I can see myself being with Tom. Just under different circumstances. But my father did not count on one thing that I would notice. Tom Holland is fake. Fake like my father. And I do not tolerate fake people. Masking emotions is different from forcing other emotions. Tom may have a handsome smile, but it’s fake.

The sound of a person rising and heavy steps come up behind me. Expensive dressed shoes glide across the polished wood flooring. The shoes stop and I feel soft breathing down my neck.

“Something the matter, darling?” Huffing, I turn around trying to fight the urge to punch his pretty little face.

“Do not call me darling,” I tilt my head up to look Tom in his eyes to show my displeasure in his nickname for me. “Holland.” I spit out his last name as if it was dirt.

Tom being a foot away from me became two-inches from me. I could smell his delicious cologne. Just the right amount to make me swoon at my knees. My father knows that I am extremely attracted to men who smell good. But that’s not going mask over how he doesn’t love me.

“Now, don’t be throwing that name around so mean. You will be bearing that name soon enough.” Tom’s breath dashed across my face as he spoke. Minty fresh breath.

Snap out of it Katelyn.

Stepping around Tom, I announced loud enough for our fathers to hear, “Oh I don’t think so, Holland.”

“You see. I am not going to be bearing that name any time in the future. Sorry to disappoint your fantasy of marrying me.” I stalked towards my father. I could see that he wishes the drinks would come faster. The fear in his eyes of me messing up his plan excites me to continue. As I sit down on the velvet cushions, I finish with, “You, Tom Holland, are not worthy enough to marry me.”

I smirk as Tom is standing in shock by my statement. Everyone is silent as I reveal in the sweet smell of victory of getting the upper hand. And I do not lie. Tom can’t marry me without earning me. I am not an award handed over to unworthy participants.

We were in silence for a minute longer until Jason came through the door with our refreshments. I smile at Jason; he knows I did something to disrupt the peace of the arranged marriage.

“Good! Jason! Hand over my whiskey!” My father sighs happily as if drinking will chance how the meeting is going so far. Jason hands my father his glass of ice and whiskey. I can sense that my father wants to drown the alcoholic drink whole, but remembers his manners and takes a quick sip. The butler moves to hand Dominic drink as Tom comes to sit down to be given his. Placing Tom’s cup in his hands, Jason gives me my tea last.

“Thank you, Jason.” I smile up at the man before me. Jason smirks, gesturing with his eyes towards my teacup. Leaning over, I smell fruit strongly. Pomegranate. Smiling I take a sweet taste of my tea. Steam comes up but my lips are met with the perfect temperature. Delicious. “Delicious, as usual, Jason. Perfect temperature, bold flavours. I love it.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Veer. I am happy to hear you enjoy it.”

“I do indeed.” Glancing to Tom, I see him take a sip. I can’t tell if he enjoys it as much as I do or not. No emotions show through his eye, but I can tell the tea has relaxed him. More minutes pass as the room sits waiting. My father is thinking; probably on how to fix what I said earlier. The Holland’s are silent and unreadable. Setting down my teacup, I bring all eyes to me.

Time to enact my plan.

“Mr. Holland, I have nothing against you, or your family, or your son.”

Good way to start.

“But I do have a problem with the business deal you are making that is costing at a high price. That price is me. I realize that this deal was made long in advance, but I am a full-grown woman and I am not going to be sold as some kind of animal. I am not a poker chip you use to benefit yourself. I am not selling my freedom over to a man that does not love me. So I am going to cut to the chase.” That brings Tom to lean forward. “I am not marrying your son.”

Both Holland’s are taken aback from my statement. My father rolls his eyes, gripping the bridge of his nose tightly as to erase me ever saying that.

“Tom, there must be a million other girls for you marry. You don’t want to marry for love, find a different girl to do it with you.” I rise slowly before my father grabs my arm back down.

“Daughter, you can not get out of this.” He glares hard at me, increasing the pressure of his grip on my arm. I glare right back with the same intensity.

“You have no say in who I marry.”

“Yes, I do. This contract can not be broken. Tom and you will be married.”

Fume comes out of my ears as I clench my fists tightly. “Get. Your. Hand. Off. Of. Me.”

Realizing that we had people watching us, he quickly lets go of my arm. Trying to collect himself, he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as trying to contain his increasing rage.

“Daughter—”

“Quit calling me daughter. I may be your daughter but I am not your property, and I am not being sold like it.” He rolls his eyes heavily at the word ‘sold.’

“Katelyn. You are not being sold—”

“And that is where you are wrong! Marriage is the same thing if I have no say on who I am marrying. I have known that I am being married off for a business deal one day ago. One day. And you expect me to just accept this arrangement that was made when I was two? Oh heck no. Take that contract and shove it up your butt. Or burn it. Either way is fine.”

Snapping his fingers, my father gestures a maid to bring a paper forward. My father snatches the paper aggressively out of her hands. Flipping paper fast enough to get a million paper cuts, he lands on the page he was searching for. Pointing his finger at a squiggle of writing, I lean closer to get a look.

“You know who signed this for it to happen?”

No.

“Look. Do you see it?”

Please no.

“Who’s is that?”

No, it’s can’t be.

“It was her wish for this to happen. Are you going to back out of it, now?”

Why?

“Well? Who’s is it, Katelyn? Want to rethink what you said and take this back?”

I gulp loudly. My hands start to shake slightly and I feel the room get smaller. I can’t breathe. He knows I won’t back out of it now. My plan is thrown right out of the window. No hope for me. I have to agree. He knows that.

“Who signed for you to have this arranged marriage with Tom Holland, daughter?” My father smirks devilishly. He is getting what he wants, I am losing everything I was fighting for.

Why did you sign it... Mom?

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think! Chapter 2 is coming soon!

- Loves!

[yoongi-boongi]

feelings aren’t like cupcakes | myg

♡ pairing: yoongi x reader

♡ genre: FLUFF

♡ warnings: tiny sex reference?, slight drinking, a bad joke, maybe the smallest pinch of angst?

♡ word count: 3,007

♡ notes: this is my first fic so be nice i guess. shout-out to @minnsvga for supporting me and helping me throughout this entire thing

It was early into a Friday evening and the cafe had quieted down exponentially compared to the morning hustle. You had finally gotten your cafe open. You had been saving up ever since you were a child, always dreaming to have a small place of your own. It took a bit to transform it into the way it was now, seeing as it used to be a bar. You thought of your cafe as a second home. The cafe was better than you could have ever imagined with bookshelves lining two walls, fairy lights twinkling across the ceiling, and refurbished furniture scattered into groups across the hardwood floors.

You already sent your employees home for the night. Not many people flocked to your cafe this late and hell, most of the time you closed early because of the lack of people and the fact you just wanted to get some sleep. You had a few customers that came around at night, mostly consisting of college kids who wanted a quiet place that isn't crowded. But tonight it’s different seeing as no customers were around tonight.  

You were busy in the kitchen making another batch of red velvet cupcakes when you heard the bell ring from the door. You quickly popped the cookie dough into the fridge and shuffled your way to the front counter, only to be greeted with an annoyed looking man in a suit. He had soft yet striking features and dark eyes that bore into your soul. You realized you haven’t said anything to him yet and promptly put a smile on your face.

“Welcome to Y/N’s Cafe & Bakery! Is there any way I can help you?” The attractive man squinted at your cheerful attitude towards him before speaking.

“Yeah… Can you tell me where the hell the bar went?”

Of course… People come in all the time asking where the bar went and you were kinda getting sick of having to tell the story of how the bar closed.

“Look… Long story short, the bar closed and my cafe opened.” You sighed out, dropping the upbeat look from your face. You can see the irritation growing on his as the seconds pass. You could almost cut the tension coming from the man with a butter knife. It was thick but not like a brick, ya know?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He growls out of frustration, “My favorite bar closes and that’s all you can give me?”

“Yup. Now, I don’t like assholes in my cafe. Have a cupcake.”  You grab a random cupcake from the display on the counter and hand it to him before he can protest. He switches back and forth looking at the cupcake and looking at you like you grew a second head. “Sir, I didn’t poison the damn thing so eat it and we can have an actual conversation. Maybe if you are nice I can give you some of the whiskey I keep in the back.” He stares a bit more before biting into the cupcake, eyes widening at the taste. You smile at the sight before heading back into the kitchen.

You clean up the kitchen and headed back out into the main seating area of the cafe with the previously mentioned whiskey bottle. You looked around noticing the only people in the cafe are you and the unnamed and very attractive man. The more you look at him the more you notice. You see his black hair and imagine how soft it would feel in your hands. You see the rings that adorn his fingers and note that he took his suit jacket off.

“Are you going to keep checking me out or are you going to actually say something to me?” The man’s bold words break your chain of thoughts bringing along a deep blush that coats your cheeks. You stutter out a half-assed apology as he smirks. “So this is your place?”

“Uh.. yeah. Got it opened about a month back.. I assume that you haven’t been able to come to the old bar in a while? Seeing as you didn’t know that this is now a cafe?” You answer as you turn the open sign to closed and walk towards where he is sitting.

“You can say that…” He mumbles back, looking at his phone that appeared to be blowing up with text messages. “I haven’t been able to come get a drink because of everything going on my life with work and shit.” You hum in acknowledgement before taking the seat across him at the small table.

“You seem to be better after the cupcake.” You grin at him and he lets out a snort. “So can I get your name before I share my alcohol with you? I’m sure you can tell what mine is based off of the big signs.”

“Min Yoongi, and yes I can tell what your name is Y/N.”  

“I don’t have any glasses or anything so I hope you can bear drinking straight from the bottle.” Yoongi only nods as you open the bottle and take a sip. You cough at the taste and hand the bottle to him. “So, Yoongi… tell me about yourself.”

He looks at you after his swig. He stares at your face for a moment, thinking. “I don’t think you have unlocked my Tragic Backstory™ quite yet…” He watches with a small smirk as you laugh at his joke.

“Okay… seems reasonable enough. Then… Tell me how you ended up here, in my little paradise on a Friday evening.” You counter with. He lets out a deep sigh before speaking.

“Well, Y/N” He starts, putting heavy emphasis on your name, “I had a somewhat of a terrible day at my shitty job so I left and ended up here only to find cupcakes instead of copious amounts of alcohol like I wanted.”

“Hey! I got you some! And my cupcakes are delicious!” You scoff back. Yoongi only smirks as you stick your tongue out at him. The tension that was in the air during the previous completely gone and exchanged for a playful and comfortable one.

“You might not want to do that.”

“And why is that?” You retort back quickly.

“You don’t know what I’m like.” He says back just as quick as you did.

“Oh, on the contrary! I know more about you than you know about me. So HA!” He can only shake his head, trying not to smile at the statement.

“Speaking of which, tell me about you. How did you end up owning a cafe/bakery place?” Yoongi questioned with actual curiosity.

“Well…. Ever since I was young I’ve always liked baking so I decided that I was going to own a cafe. So instead of going to college like my parents insist, I’m putting all of my money and effort into this place. I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job!”

A moment of silence followed. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one though, It was more of a pleasant, understanding kind of vibe.

You begin to ramble to fill the emptiness. “Hey... since you are probably in some deep shit with your boss why don’t I deliver some cupcakes or donuts to try to help and smooth it over? Ya know, so you don’t get fired or something. Being fired is not very pretty on your resume.”

“I have no clue… I should probably read the messages I’m getting to see if I’m not already. But it wouldn’t matter too much seeing as I fucking hate it there…”

“Do you wanna tell me why or do I have to give you some more whiskey first?” You joke.

“I’d honestly prefer the whiskey.” He retorts with a deadpan look.

“OOF, okay, but I seriously think you should come around more often Yoongi. I’d love to get to know you more through cupcakes and maybe more whiskey. And trust me this isn’t the whiskey talking.” You answer back with a wide smile.

“I think I just might. Especially if you are offering me more cupcakes.”

The second time Yoongi showed up it was early in the morning and honestly he looked like shit. It was about seven in the morning and he came in wearing a light blue button-up rolled to his elbows. He walked grungledly to the counter.

“Good morning Yoongi. What can I get you?” You asked with a small smile.

“An iced americano. To go, please.” He muttered back. “He's clearly not a morning person.”

“Anything else? I heard the donuts are preeeetty good.” You added. He sighed before muttering out a “why not.” After being rung up and paying he headed out the door only then he looked down at his cup and found a little message.

“It was nice seeing you again - Y/N :)”

The fifth time he came to the shop was during lunch. You were about to go on break when he walked through the doors.

“Yoongi… I was about to go to lunch. Want to come get something with me?” You proposed. You could tell that he wasn’t expecting the offer by how he stared questionly.  

“Fine, but i’m paying for it.” He insisted which only caused you to run up to him and argue that you were paying because you were the one who offered it. The two of you made it to your favorite sushi place and ended up splitting the bill because of how stubborn you were. Yoongi made you swear that next time you’ll let him pay.

The eighth time he came to the shop you spoke about aspirations and dreams. It took awhile for you to pry out of him but you got it eventually. Mainly through bribing him with some free donuts and cupcakes.

“I want…. To be a producer. Have my own studio that's not my damn apartment. Have my only worries being to be make music and write songs and shit.” He lets out hesitantly even after shoving a cupcake in his mouth.

“Oh! I can see it! But you probably need to have a side job in the beginning… so you have a solid income and stuff. If you hate working in that office or whatever you can work here! I can hire you and you can help me! You're not the biggest people person so you could probably help me bake in the bac-” You cut yourself off when Yoongi places his hands around yours.

“You ramble a lot.” Yoongi laughs out. You simply pouted back.

“I’m serious you know…” You mumble back as you adjust your position in the chair. Yoongi watching you from across the table with a gentle smile on his face, brown eyes shining with admiration.

“I’m sure you are…but thanks. I will consider it.”

It was around the tenth time Yoongi made his way to the cafe but no one could be sure, seeing as no one was counting. He got through the door before noticing that there was only one employee from what he could tell, who was in the process of flipping the sign from open to closed.

“Wait! You guys are closing early?” Yoongi practically growled.

“Huh? Oh, you're the guy that shows up all the time and talks with the boss!” She says with a slight smile and a point at Yoongi.

“Yeah its me… so why are you guys closing so soon? Normally you guys are open till 10?” He replies back with a forced smile.

“Oh yeah… The big boss lady had a date tonight or something and didn’t want us noobies to run the business by ourselves so late at night, or something…. But don’t worry! We will be open for normal times tomorrow!” The employee affirmed. Yoongi could only stare at her face. Searching it with his eyes for anyway for what she said to be a lie. “Um… sir? Are you alright?” She questioned after getting no response.

“Sorry….” He muttered back before looking at his reflection in a window of the shop. He and the employee stood as it started to rain. “How cliche…” Yoongi thought with a soft scoff.

“You really like her don’t you?” The employee spoke up once again, making Yoongi’s line of sight move from the window to her face. How was he supposed to answer her when he didn’t have an answer for himself? “Does she have any idea that you do?” Yoongi let out a sigh. “Man, how could you not say anything if you are so whipped?” She joked.

“I’ll help you out! I’ve always wanted to be a matchmaker! So what if I call her and say that there was an issue with something and it is extremely important that she gets here as soon as possible? After I make the call I’ll scram… If you want me to help and all.” She proposed.

“You… you would do all that for me?” Yoongi questioned in disbelief.

“Yup! But I can’t let you stay inside this place seeing as I technically still have to close up…” The employee stated with a apologetic smile. He nodded and looked out of the window to notice it was raining harder and the shop has no awning.

“Great…” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry! I heard that the restaurant that she's at isn’t too far away! I’d offer an umbrella but I don’t have one myself.” The employee tried to make light of the situation and pulled out her phone.

Your date was going pretty well, a little textbook you could say. The only reason you were on this damned date is because your friend begged you to start dating someone and she promised that this guy would be perfect for you. While he is a great person and has been nothing but great to you, you had someone else in your head the entire time.

“Do you wanna know the safest place during a zombie apocalypse?” You started maybe the twentieth joke of the night.

“Where?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“The living room.” You manage to get out before the two of you burst into laughing.

Your laughter got cut short though as your phone began to vibrate. You looked at who it was and figured it was pretty important seeing as you told Hana to only call you if something big or important happened.

“Sorry but I need to take this it. I’ll be back.” You apologized to your date as you made your way to the restroom. You were expecting the worse as you answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!! I’m so glad you answered the first time I called! Look there is a problem back at base camp and I really need you to come help!” Hana quickly squeaked out.

“Wait, slow down! What happened?” You tried to interrogate.

“There isn’t enough time! Please just hurry back!” She rushed out before hanging up on you. You sighed out frustration before putting your phone back in your bag and heading back to your table. You explained the situation to your date and apologized for having to cut the date short. Soon enough you were in your car heading to your shop for the second time today.

Yoongi sat in the rain soaked as he waited for you to show up. He could only think of what the hell he was actually going to say. What could he say? “Hey, your employee made you panic for no damn reason just because I wanted to talk to you. Not to mention I have terrible timing?”

The time seemed to go in slow motion when a car finally pulled up in front of him. As the car door opened, an umbrella popped out and the sound of high heels clicking filled his ears over the sound of the rain.

“Yoongi?” You questioned as you stood in front of the sopping wet man. Yoongi finally looked up at you and opened his mouth but no words came out. He decided he should at least stand up and his jacket let out a loud squelch as he did. You tried to cover you giggle and failed miserably. Yoongi began to laugh back and soon enough you two were standing in the rain laughing over nothing together.

“So….” Yoongi finally spoke. “This isn’t really how imagined this going but eh…. Life is weird sometimes…” You watched as he looked you in the eyes.

“I mean I never expected to get called my employee to rush back to my shop only to find her nowhere in sight and you soaking wet from the rain. But yes, this life, I guess.” You teased back and Yoongi chuckled, a gummy smile forming.

“Yeah…. That's not really what I was talking about though… Look I’m just going to get this out there now. I have feelings for you. I don’t know exactly what they are but they are surely fucking there. You don’t have to have them back but now you know.” He rushed out all in one breath. You just continued to stare back as you processed everything. Yoongi was about to add on something but you started laughing.

You were laughing so hard that you tears almost started to roll down your face. He tried to question you but you stopped him before he could start by quickly pressing your lips to his. He held your face between his hands as he pressed back like if he didn’t you would slip away from him. The rain continued to pour on to the two of you but that didn’t matter now.

Almost too soon in Yoongi’s opinion, you pulled backed up and stared at him with a smile that was probably the biggest it had been in a while. He moved one hand back, the other holding on to the side of your face. Your hands on top of his, the closest you could get to holding his hands at the moment before you finally spoke.  

“About time dumb ass.”

[loonathevelvet]

The Dollhouse

Prompt: Red Velvet are warriors, in a world of fantasy where everything is possible. Wendy has been taken while in battle by a group of trolls, and later on sold to someone. She doesn't know exactly who has her, but she remembers some stories about this place and the few who escaped. Y/N, however, has been there for way longer. Note: I took my liberty to write anything containing violence in this scenario. If that might trigger you, don't read it. In this universe: Yeri | Seulgi In this series: Part Two: Dollface Word count: 996 (5286 characters with space)

She had heard rumours of that place for years, and not even once believed they were real. It sounded too much like a fantasy, a legend someone made up to scare kids so they never went into the woods and got lost or eaten by trolls. But sitting there, looking at her own reflexion at the mirror, fear overtook her. It was real. It was way too real. A single tear ran down Wendy’s cheek. She wiped it out quickly so they wouldn’t see it and  looked away from herself in the mirror, instead focusing at the girl on her right. She recognized her  from the camp back home, but couldn’t remember her name. She had been missing for… Five years? They thought she had died. Her heart sank when she thought of the possibility of staying for so long in whatever that place was.

The voice that whispered in her head told her to stand up and go wait by the door. It was dinner time. She didn’t say a word and did as told. Wendy knew the punishments, and she knew there was no option but to obey. Her eyes were blank. Other girls surrounded her, expressions varying from fear to apathy. The girl from the camp stood beside her, close enough to be able to hold her hand and press her fingers lightly without being noticed. Wendy didn’t know exactly who she was, but gratefulness was all she could feel at that moment. The small things she did to help her were the only thing getting her through the day recently.

The door opened, and everyone sat on the chair that had their own name written on it. How did they know their names? Wendy gave up asking question some time ago, but some things still came up on her mind sometimes against her will. The girl, as always, sat by Wendy’s side. In front of them were plates with their dinner on it, which as always looked delicious. Wendy wanted to throw up just by looking at it. How long would it be until she saw freedom? Would she, eventually? Could she at least dream?

Under the table, she felt the girl’s feet brush against hers. Wendy had been staring at the food for too long. There could be problems if they thought she was refusing to eat. So, diligently, she eat her food. And then stood up when told to, and walked out the door, and went to her room. The girl’s room was across from hers, and they looked at each other as the door closed and locked, desperate and depressed expressions on their eyes. And then one more night, there she was. Doing as told, she took a shower and put on pajamas, and then brushed her teeth, and then she laid down the bed to sleep, and the lights turned off.

And one more night, she stared at the ceiling, thinking back to what had happened up to that point with tears on her eyes that she had to hold back.

It had been some time already. Months, maybe. Wendy had been captured by the trolls in a battle. She was a fighter, definitely, but no matter how much she fought to escape, they managed to hold her captive on a tavern she knew a little bit too well. They held an auction, where she was sold to a guy with blue hair and white pupils, a fairy. He drugged her with a syringe, and she woke up in that bedroom, with a voice in her head telling her what to do.

For some time, she fought back. Wendy tried to escape, tried not to get out of the bedroom, refused to eat and to brush her hair. She broke chairs, and slapped a girl who she screamed at to get her to respond to her cries for help. The girl never reacted, just stared and cried silently. No one ever did in that place, unless they were new. She now knew why: whenever she disobeyed, electric shocks would run through her body. They had put something on her, something that would shock her continuously until she passed out. And then she’d wake up in that room, locked up. They’d leave her there without any food or water for days, until she was on the verge of dying. Then, they’d open the door in the morning, and she’d do what they said if only to eat something.

Eventually, they broke her down, and she stopped trying to disobey.

She sometimes wondered if anyone was looking for her. No one was looking for the girl by that point. They thought she was dead. Maybe Wendy herself was believed to have been killed in battle. Why were doing that? If she was right — if those were fairies, and the girl were supposed to be eaten — then why go through to the trouble of slowly breaking down your prey until they complied to painting their hair red? Why not kill them already? Some girls sometimes disappeared, sure, but it wasn’t at an alarming rate. The girl had survived for what, years? That was a very long time.

Investigating was useless; she couldn’t walk around the facility at free will, and they wouldn’t leave clues hanging around. They weren’t clueless. Besides, the voice always told her what to do, and how to do it, and investigating would require she didn’t do that. There were cameras everywhere. She couldn’t go through the shocks again. Her mind had a lot of time to wander during the boring days she was forced to endure, and many theories would eventually come up. She avoided them. It was a bad idea to think. She might start having hope.

Much like every night, a gas filled her room. They must have noticed she was awake. Slowly, she drifted into sleep, tears dripping down her eyes. At least she could pretend it was the gas hurting them.

[winchestergirl-13]

Fall Adventures

prompt: gif, fall/Halloween, candle lit lantern w/fall trees

pairing: Sam x Reader

Warning: just a whole lot of fluff

Word Count: 2,505

A/N: Hey! So this was for @impalaimagining‘s Favorite Seasons GIF Challenge. I wanted to post this one earlier, but life got in the way: school, work, etc. And I also didn’t get around to writing it until after Thanksgiving, so yeah there’s that *awkward laughing*. Anyways, here it is. I do have words describing the GIF in bold just in case the GIF doesn’t work. I hope you all like it.

If there was one thing about traveling all over America that (Y/N) loved, it was seeing some rather amazing sights that most dream of seeing. Like Manchester, Vermont. They had just finished up a case in Augusta, Maine with a shtriga and they had passed through Vermont on their way there. Now heading back home, as there were no new cases after this one, they decided to check out some local sights along the way. They stopped at a little New England bed and breakfast and got two rooms next to each other.

“Alright, well I’m going to go check out any diners around here. You two go do whatever it is couples do here,” Dean suggested, shrugging on his jacket, and grabbing Baby’s keys.

“I’m sure we can find something to do here. There’s a lot of colonial museums here, maybe we’ll check one out,” (Y/N) replied, slipping on a flannel shirt that was a few sizes too big on her petite frame.

“Is that one of mine?” Sam asked, chuckling as a blush worked it’s way onto her cheeks. She ducked her head, a small smile on her lips as a soft, “Maybe” reached his ears.

“Well that’s cute,” Dean grumbled, shaking his head. Honestly, he found most of what Sam and (Y/N) did was adorable. Like her “stealing” his shirts or when Sam plays with her hair when she’s using his thigh as a pillow, sound asleep. Dean was happy for the two of them. “Well, I’m heading out. Don’t stay out too late you two.”

They watched as he took off and they finished getting ready to head out themselves. Sam was dressed in his usual jeans and plaid, a burgundy red and grey colored one, with his beige jacket thrown over his shoulders. His work boots adorned his feet. (Y/N) chose her dark blue jeans with her brown work boots. One of Sam’s plaid shirts, a blue and green colored one, and a denim jacket over top. She pulled her (h/c) hair into a ponytail and threw on a grey beanie. Sam couldn’t help but smile at (Y/N) and wonder to himself how he got so lucky to have found her. (Y/N) wondered the same thing about Sam. Either way, to two were perfect for each other.

They exited the bed and breakfast and made their way out into the streets of Vermont. Already there were trees with beautiful leaves of red, orange, yellow, brown, and some in between. They lined the streets and sidewalks, the lawns of the passing houses. All in all, it was a lovely fall day with a slight breeze, kicking up the fallen leaves here and there. Hand-in-hand, Sam and (Y/N) wandered around town, checking out the shops and parks.

“Where do you want to head to next?” Sam asked as they sat down for some lunch at this one mom and pop diner.

“I’m not sure. I saw this thing on a flyer about a nature walk in the woods that’s in two hours. You want to check that out?” she suggested as she shrugged off her denim jacket to hang on the back of her chair.

“That sounds like fun. We should do that,” he agreed eagerly. He had a plan in mind and that would just be perfect. Neither one noticed Dean in the back corner of the diner, watching as they enjoyed they food and decided to follow them. If Sam was going to go with this plan of his (he mentioned it to Dean a week ago), then they would want pictures.

After lunch, (Y/N) and Sam paid for their food and went out the door to find the location for the hike. Dean was about to leave when he overheard one of the waitresses talking about Sam and (Y/N).

“Those two were just the cutest couple I have ever seen. The way he looked at her, you could tell he’s smitten about her. Add in the height difference, there’s nothing cuter,” she gushed to one of her coworkers, who simply smiled and agreed. Even Dean knew that was true.

* * *

When they met (Y/N) about four years ago, they couldn’t believe that this young woman, who was literally half their height, had taken down a nest of vampires by herself. She saw Sam and Dean and stated, “Well, if it ain’t the Winchesters. Sorry to steal your hunt boys, but I got it from here.” And she was gone. The two of them didn’t see her again for a few months when another case came around about a haunted house of all things and they ran into each other again. The entire time, Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of (Y/N), having already fallen for the smaller hunter. After they decided to work together on this case, Dean offered her to come with them and that she could stay at the Bunker and come and go if she pleased. To their surprise, she agreed and (Y/N) had stayed with the boys ever since.

About two years into her staying with them, that’s when Dean began to notice that the subtle flirting and lingering eye contact was getting worse and one day he had enough of it. He literally locked the two of them in a room and said, “Either you two figure out what to do about the eye sex or I will.” About twenty minutes later, he unlocked the door to find the two of them in a make-out session and they didn’t even notice him; he just left the door cracked and left them alone. They came out a few minutes later holding hands.

“About damn time. The looks you two were giving each other made me want to scream it in your faces that you each liked each other,” he grumbled, ruffling (Y/N)’s hair and patting Sam’s shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen. He was happy that they found each other.

* * *

Now he just had to find this hike they talked about and wait for the right moment.

Sam and (Y/N) chatted away about anything, their hands swinging between them. As (Y/N) rambled on about some band she liked, Sam just watched as her face would light up, her eyes shinning with joy at the sights around them. He tuned back in when she asked him a question.

“So, what do you think?”

“What?” his eyes widening when he realized he had no clue what she was asking him.

Chuckling, she repeated her question, “I asked what you thought about going to an ice rink one day.”

“Sorry babe. I wasn’t listening. But I think that would be great,” Sam replied, pulling her to a stop just to wrap his arms around her.

“It’s okay Sammy. And I’m glad you think so. Come on, it’s this way,” (Y/N) stated, pulling away from the hug and lead the way to where the hike was taking place. There were families, couples, people who just wanted to get away from everything for a moment were there. There was a tour guide that was leading this large group and they began the hike.

Along the way, there were spots to stop to take photos, to look for bugs if you were kids, and to collect some of the leaves on the ground if that was your thing. Sam and (Y/N) would stop and collect a few of the leaves and take pictures, either of them or just the surrounding forest. Dean was near the back of the group, but he could see them from his spot. He just had to wait for the right moment.

The little group had reached the half-way mark of the hike and they took a break for a few minutes. (Y/N) was sitting next to Sam, her head laying against his shoulder. But something caught her eye.

“Hey Sam. Look at this,” she stood up, dragging Sam with her. There was a small lantern hanging from a wooden post, lighting the path through the woods. Branches had wrapped around the post, the leaves seeming to glow from the lantern light. “Oh Sam, isn’t it beautiful?”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he commented, kneeling behind her. This was Dean’s cue as he pushed his way (politely) through the small crowd.

“You always say that,” she chuckled, turning around to face him, but he was suddenly eye level with her. A gasp left her lips when she was what he was doing, her hands covering her mouth.

“I know I always say that because it’s true. I never met anyone like you before. (Y/N), when we first met, I couldn’t believe my eyes at this beautiful, strong woman. I thought I would never have a chance at being with someone like you, but you showed me that I was wrong. Well, my brother did.” That got a laugh out of her and a few around them.

“But he was right. The two of us just seemed to fit and I couldn’t be happier when you said you’d be my girlfriend. But, I want to know if you’ll make me even happier. (Y/N), will you marry me?” Sam opened the small velvet box to reveal a simple, yet elegant bronze ring. A small diamond in the middle with a design that made it look like a tree branch.

“Yes! I’ll marry you, Sam,” (Y/N) replied, a few tears tracking down her cheeks, her smile growing as he slid the ring onto her hand before standing up and taking her into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck, bringing him down a little as they shared a kiss to the sounds of cheers, clapping, and congratulations. Sam set (Y/N) back down on her feet when they parted, his arms loose around her waist.

“Congratulations you two. I wondered when this was going to happen,” Dean spoke up, walking over to the couple before giving them both a hug.

“When did you get here, Dean?” (Y/N) asked, titling her head in confusion.

“Since the tour started. Sam told me of his little idea and you two happened to stop at the diner I was at. So I figured I’d come along and capture the moment for you two,” he replied, squeezing (Y/N)’s shoulder a little.

“Thank you, Dean,” Sam replied, wrapping his arms around his brother.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome you two. I’ll meet you two back at the hotel while you finish your little nature hike,” Dean replied before turning to walk away.

“No, Dean wait. Come with us. I mean, you’re already here, why not just finish the hike with us?” (Y/N) suggested, holding onto Sam’s arm.

“Alright, alright. You and Sam with the puppy eyes. Let’s just finish this,” he shook his head, walking up to them as the hike restarted. He showed them the photos he took along with the video. By the end of the hike, the two were given a few congratulations and good wishes before they set off for their hotel again. Sam managed to fit his tall frame into the backseat with (Y/N) as Dean drove them back.

Gazing at the ring on her left hand, she smiled as Sam wove his fingers through hers, bringing her hand up to place a kiss on her knuckles. Laying her head on his shoulder, she giggled as he laid his head on top of hers. Dean snuck a glance through the rear view mirror and smiled. For once after what felt like a lifetime, Sam was finally happy and Dean couldn’t be happier for him. His brother deserved this moment. Not to say he didn’t, but he was waiting for the right person to walk into his life. For now, he had everything he needed: his family.

Back at the bed-and-breakfast, Dean headed for his room to change while Sam and (Y/N) walked into their room. Well, more like Sam walked in with (Y/N) in his arms after having picked her up before she could cross the threshold.

“Sam! Put me down! We aren’t even married yet!” she managed to say as she was laughing so hard.

Sam just spun around for a moment before setting her on the bed and kneeling before it. His smile never leaving his face. Reaching up, he slid her beanie off her head before cupping her head in his hands.

“How did I get so lucky to have found you?” he asked, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.

“Just lucky I guess. I ask myself the same thing all the time. Then I realized that maybe it wasn’t luck or fate or whatever. It was just us and our impeccable timing. That or Chuck had something to do with it, but lets go with my idea,” (Y/N) rambled, laughing a bit with Sam at her small joke (they told her about Chuck and who he was a year after she moved in with them as he just popped into the Bunker one day).

“Alright then, Mrs. Winchester,” he replied with a smirk before pressing his lips to hers. Their lips molded against each others and after a few moments, they broke away to breathe.

“Mrs. Winchester. Well, I definitely like the sound of that, Mr. Winchester,” she stated, running her hands through Sam’s hair.

He could only shake his head a bit before standing up and pushing her back onto the bed. Laying down beside her, Sam grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and pulled it towards his chest.

“I love you, (Y/N). I promise I won’t ever let you go,” he affirmed, showing her the earnest in his eyes.

“I love you, too Sam. And I know you won’t let me go ‘cause I have no plans of letting you go either,” she replied, laying her free hand on his chest where his hear lies.They spent the next half-hour laying in bed, just relaxing and enjoying each others presence. Soon Dean knocked on their door, saying they should go get some dinner. They would share the meal in his room before retiring to their separate rooms for the night. In the morning, they’d leave for home and things would return to normal. The only difference is that there will be a new Winchester to add to the family.

As they went to bed that night, Sam couldn’t help but stare in awe of his now fiance as she fell asleep next to him, curled up in a ball wearing another one of his flannels. Careful as to not wake her, Sam gently laid an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He placed a kiss to her head before settling down beside her for the night.

“Goodnight (Y/N). I love you,” he whispered before falling asleep, thinking she wouldn’t hear him. But before he fully fell asleep, there was a small kiss on his cheek and a softer, “Night Sam. I love you, too”. They both fell back to sleep, happy and safe in each others arms.

[miros-writing-blog]

003: Tape

AN: this took me… what, like 3 hours? Cool. Enjoy!

Warnings: character death mention, (child) abuse/harm mention, (other) abuse/harm mention, self-hatred, self-consciousness, snooping, cursing, panic attack/panic attack symptoms, drinking mention

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Warnings (detail?): alluding to (hinting at) character death, abuse and/or harm, child abuse and/or harm. Drinking/drunk, hang/hungover mention. Snooping for plot. Self-consciousness (1/10), intimidation (3/10), cursing (4/10), self-hatred (5/10), guilt (7/10).

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Summary: Ethan snoops a bit and finds something that Alex never wanted anyone to find.

~~

“Alex?” Ethan called into the dark room. No response. He turned on the light and looked around.

“Guess he’s not here,” he murmured to himself, taking a look around the room.

The room was nice. There was a closet in the far right corner and a dresser on the left wall, both colored a dark wood, and a large bed with black sheets. The walls were black, or perhaps a near-black sort of blue, and there were dark curtains on the window. There were few personalized items in the room - a few books on the dresser, another on the nightstand, small gifts on the window sill, odd articles of clothing thrown across a chair - but one item seemed to stand out. On the nightstand, behind the book, was a box - a small chest, really - that looked rather ornate. It was open, the only open thing in the room. Curious, Ethan made his way towards the small chest.

The chest was magical, the air around it a subtle type of heavy from all of its enchantments. (That probably should’ve been his first clue to turn away, really, but he didn’t stop to think about it). The inside of the chest was lined with red velvet, and sitting upon that was a small rectangular object with buttons on one side. Upon picking it up, Ethan realized it was a tape recorder. He hesitated, listening to see if anyone was coming - then he pressed play.

“December 10th, xx43, log 742.” It was Alex’s voice, speaking in Neltimin, the date only eight years ago. “Hey Aria, it’s me. As…always, uh… It’s almost dumb how I’m still doing this, but… Anyways, the girl that I told you about last time - Lacy, remember? - turned out to be - get this - working for my father. Big shocker, right?” He didn’t sound surprised or shocked at all. His tone was more deadpan, than anything. He sighed. “Still wants me to be a part of his ‘business empire’ or whatever the gossip calls it these days. It’s a shame that he always picks girls like her, the pretty ones with little mind of their own who want pretty, rich husbands to help them give them meaning in life. Guess that’s why I liked you so much, you just… weren’t that, weren’t like anyone I’d been around before. You’d probably hate girls like that. You seem like the type to… but then again, you thought similar things to me, and…so I shouldn’t assume what you would or wouldn’t like.” He gave a short laugh. “Assumptions, am I right? They’re why you…” He trailed off, humor gone, and he turned quieter. “Not that you have much of anything right now, but…still…the mindset is what’s important, I guess.” He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know, I’m just - rambling, like always. Not even that you, that you care or anything, you're… I’m just…” He sighed again. “Whatever,” he said, “that’s been done over a thousand times, you don’t need that again. I don’t.” A pause. “Whatever. Log end.”

“January 4th, xx44, log 743.” He sounded regretful, or maybe hungover. “Hey Aria, it’s me - you know when you get really drunk and do something really stupid? At the New Year's party I kind of… well, I think I made out with someone, but it’s kind hard to remember. Ginger keeps teasing me about it but making sure no one hears, so maybe it was them? Or maybe they saw? But I don’t know…-”

Ethan pressed the fast forward button.

“-ne 15th, xx46, log 901.” He sounded tired in this one. “Hey Aria, it's… me. Always is. Just saying sorry, again. I never…” He paused, then groaned in frustration. “No, forget it, you know that. Well, if you listened to these, which I doubt you would even if you could. Just - forget this, it’s stupid, why do I ever -” he growled in frustration then said -“ log end.”

“November 26th, xx46, log 902.” Ethan knew this date. This was the date he- “Aria, hey. Sorry for the absence. Joined a new guild last week and just met my new team a bit ago - well, most of them. One or two were out running errands when I came in, so I guess I’ll meet them later. I’m in my new room right now and it’s - fitting. They say they decorate the room to the color of your aura, did you know that? - you probably did, you were smart like that. Well, after the room is yours, you can do whatever to it - some put up wallpaper or posters or just repaint - but that’s never really been my thing. I don’t even know what I’d change it to, anyways. Reminds me of home, if I’m honest - the blacks, the dark blues, the Henderson blue… the black wood or the dark wood or the oak wood… all it needs are some chandeliers, heads-down servents, the whips, and Father’s disapproving aura and boom, I’m back home.” He gave a small laugh without joy, then fell silent a moment. “I don’t like it,” he said finally, his voice small. “But what would I change it to, anyways? Not like I’ve known anything different…” There was a sound and some muffled talking. A pause. “Looks like I’ve got to go. Dinner, and all. Log end.”

“November 27th, xx46, log 903.” He sounded… shook, for lack of a better term. “Aria? Aria, I - I saw… Are you-? No, I’d know if you were, but… Aria, one of my new team members, one of the ones who were out doing errands last night, I could’ve sworn at first that she was… that she was you. It sounds weird to say that, and maybe even crazy, but Aria, she looks exactly like you do. Or, did. Do? Well, the point stands, she looks like you. I don't… I don’t know… I don’t know why, or how, or what’s even happening. I just… I don’t know. I…” He made sounds like opening and closing his mouth with no words coming out and several distressed noises, but ultimately said nothing for a few moments. Then he paused, sighed, and went on. “…Anyways, just… thought you should know, I guess. Log end.”

“November 30th, xx46, log 904. Aria,” he said bluntly, “I think I’m in love. Ok,” he backtracked, “well, that’s a bit much, more like…” he made a hum of mild distress, “it just sounds so childish to call it a crush, but… I mean I guess?? I don’t know, Aria, but it’s just I heard him - yes, him, I know, it’s a surprise to me, too - laugh and just sephram saints, Aria, I could swear the room was brighter when he did. I’m not kidding, I think the room was literally brighter when he smiled. He might be a light user? I think the file said one of my new teammates was a light user. Is it him?…”

Alexander had had a long day, and just wanted to rest. He’d just left the training deck and was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally - he could really use a shower. And a nap. Both sounded utterly fantastic to his aching muscles, and he headed to his room to do so (he didn’t like using the locker room showers - it was too public and anyone could walk in. Better to do so in the privacy of his own bathroom).

He saw a light from under his door. Rarely did he turn on the lights in his room (given that he was a shadow user, darkness was of no problem with the night vision), much less leave them on. Someone was in his room. Ticked off and annoyed, he walked a bit faster, assuming some political snoop was digging through his things (you’d be surprised at the lengths journalists would go to get a good story). He entered his room and his stomach dropped so suddenly that he thought it’d plummet to the first floor of the building.

“…Aria? Aria I fucked up, I fucked up really bad Aria. I don’t - I don’t know -”

Ethan McCain was sitting on his bed, his back facing the door, listening to the most personal thing he physically owned. Fear and panic built up in his chest, a coil winding around his lungs tighter than a noose, making it hard to breath, hard to think - the words he knows being the only thought echoing in his brain, bouncing like a ball off the walls. He strode - not thinking, not feeling - towards the tape.

Ethan remembered this day - December 1st, three years ago, the day where he declared to himself that he’d hate Alexander Henderson forever, a hatred which lasted until only two months ago when he -

Ethan hadn’t even heard him in the hall, hadn’t seen the overhead light turn off, but had heard the heavy thunk of boots near him and all of the sudden it was dark and getting darker as Alexander Henderson plucked the tape recorder from his hands and slammed it back in the chest. Ethan looked up to see his eyes large and his aura glowing through, colors of red and blue and white and gold among the flurry of black shadowy tendrils. He seemed taller, bigger than usual, fear the main emotion in his large, glowing eyes, and inspiring the emotion quite thoroughly in the observer.

“Get. Out.”

Alexander growled - a deep, rumbling sound, barely even human.

In fact, Alexander didn’t even know if he had actually spoken in the first place. But the healer’s eyes widened, and didn’t need telling twice. He flew from the room, far away from Alexander, and Alexander was left alone.

“-mber that guy I told you about, the one with the smile and the brightness? I don’t know what I did - well, no, I do, I said something stupid and dumb and and mean, but I don’t know how - and oh saints Aria I fucked up, he hates me now, I fucked up Ar-”

Alexander closed the lid on the chest and the recording stopped. The room was silent save for his breathing, growing more panicked by the second. The coil around his chest was tightening, cutting into his lungs, making it hard to breath. He was shaking, shaking, his brain chanting he knows he knows he knows - he put a hand on the bedside table to steady himself, took a breath of air to calm himself… his knees gave out, his vision pulsing and swimming before him, his stomach lurching like he was about to vomit.

Oh joy, said a distant thought in the back of his brain, a panic attack. Just what we need.

The panic attack drowned out that voice pretty quick.

[atombombbibunny]

Welcome Home Chapter 1

Summary: Alexander had made it to the U.S.A, he was ready for what the country was going to bring to him, he just wasn’t ready for what Princeton would be giving him.

Warning: None at the moment! It is a mature story.

Word count: 3647 (I write a lot…)

Author Note:Hi guys, I’ve written thing before, but this is my first Hamilton fic, I’m no law student nor do I debate, so if anything seems odd or incorrect and throws off the story feel free to send me criticism.My french is a tad rusty but I’m hoping its clean, let me know if you’d like the translations in the story, or in my notes. This is a little bit of a slow start, but I have a million ideas for this story that I hope you guys will like. Let me know what you think of the first chapter, I live off acceptance. :) 

Alexander looked out the window, a sigh escaping his tight lips, the plane shifted forward as it began to descend from the sky. He watched as the skyline blew by, the busy highways lit with traffic, the sun beginning to set.

The plane jolted as the landing gears touched the asphalt, Alexander could hear the mumble of the pilot giving exiting instructions over his music, the headphones still tightly snug in his ears. His breath hitched as the plane came to a complete stop.

People began to shuffle, putting laptops and books back into their carry-on's. Alexander gripped his backpack, placing his iPod back into it. The people in his aisle stood and began to depart, he sat and watched.

Should he hide? Just wait and turn back home.

Home.

There was no home anymore.

When his thoughts cleared Alexander realized he was the last person to exit the plane. As he sighed once more, he shook his head from his pathetic thoughts, he tightened his pony tail, the black silk hairs that escaped from being on plane for what felt like days tickled his neck as he pushed himself from the seat. The flight attendant gave him a warm yet fake smile. “Have a great evening!” Alexander ignored their high pitched peppy voice and continued down the jet-way.

He walked past the crowds of people, picking up their friends, family...loved ones, and straight to baggage pick up, he grabbed his bag and slung it on his shoulder. Outside he slid into an empty taxi. “Where to son?” He slunk into the backseat, he watched as the bright lights of the city flew past him. The car came to a halt and he forced his jet lagged body out of the car. “Need help?” The scruffy faced man asked his voice hoarse. Alexander shook his head no and threw his bag out of the car onto the concrete sidewalk. He pulled out a crumpled twenty from his pocked. “Thanks” He let out dryly, handing him the filthy bill. “No problem, good luck kid.” The car puttered as it turned on again and pulled away from him.

Alexander pulled open his backpack and slipped out the piece of paper, informing him of his room, his classes and where exactly to go in the morning.

He dragged his bag a few feet before taking a seat on the bench, he rubbed his aching legs.

His heart was pounding roughly in his chest, it hurt, he's felt worse pain, he thought to himself. He sat still on the lonely metal bench, considering if he should just stay there till the sun rises.

A heavy sigh escaping his mouth, he stood from the bench and inched towards a sign. One arrow pointed towards dorm rooms, another pointing in the direction of the library.

Alexander could hear people behind him, laughing and talking loudly getting closer by the second. He felt fear surrounding him as he quickly walked towards the library.

He pushed the heavy door open, it clanked closed as he entered. He felt star struck as he scanned the two story building, covered from head to toe in hard covered books, the still smell of paper eased any nerves that filled his lungs.

He took a seat at a thick hardwood table, dropping his bag next to him and setting his backpack on the table, he removed his iPod, he pushed the headphones deep in his ears and turned on his favorite classical piece. He barely knew how to use this thing, his cousin who was far better off than his family left it for him.

A few other students were in the library, heads stuck in books, or half asleep looking dead eyed towards brightly lit computers.

Instead of scanning for a book, he pulled out 'The Glorious Cause' from his backpack, the worn out book looked like it would fall into a million pieces if it was touched, but Alex folded it open and began to read. He enjoyed learning about the founding fathers, he may have not have been born in this country, but hes here now.

Sleep pushed his eyelids further down, it caused him frustration as he had to continually re-read the same sentence five times. Before to long his burning eyes gave in and he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to wash over him.

After what felt like only 10 minutes he felt a gentle nudge. “Sorry son, classes will be starting soon.” Panic rushed through Alexanders veins he glanced round the room, the wariness of his eyes fading into clear vision. Where was he?

He scanned around the room, then towards the face beside him. He took a breath as he remembered what happened and where exactly he was.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. The gray haired many let out a low chuckle. “Studying?” Alexander didn't answer as he pushed his book back in his bag and warped it back around his shoulder. He shrugged as he walked past the stranger. Undoing the ponytail quickly only to do it back up again in a messy bun to hid the tangles that ran through his hair as he made his way to the exit.

Pushing the door open as he let out a yawn, the bright blue sky opened up to him, the sun burning his exhausted eyes, he lifted a hand to cover them. Glancing around he saw the sign that led him to the library, the arrow that pointed towards dorm rooms, also pointed towards the administration office.

Alexander made a note in his head to grab a map of the campus, he wouldn't be able to make a single class if he only relied on the signs that scattered the lot.

He found the large building with Administration Office engraved in marble.

He could gawk at the architecture of this campus for hours, but he knew he'd have time to do that over the years he'd be spending here.

Pushing the yet again heavy wooden doors, he walked quickly to the front desk. A woman with blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail glanced up at him. “Can I help you?” Alexander stood still for a moment. “Uhm, Alexander Hamilton.” She glanced down at her computer and typed quickly. “Ah, here you are, Mr. Washington will be with you soon. Did you settle in okay at your dorm?” Alexander felt an odd sense of guilt as he look into her eyes. “Uh, yeah.” She smiled sweetly at him and motioned for him to take a seat in the wooden chairs next to a pair of tall wooden doors.

Alexanders legs still ached something fierce, and now due to sleeping in a chair his back muscles were tense and hurt. His leg shook as the sound of the grandfather clock tucked in the corner of the lobby ticked slowly.

The sudden sound of the door opening had Alexander jumping up from his seat. A man, high in stance came from the doorway. “Mr. Hamilton, its great to meet you.” He held out a firm hand Alexander met him half way and shook his hand a little to loose. George gave him a smile and motioned with his arm into his office. “Please follow me.” Alexander walked lowly behind the man of great stature.”Please, take a seat.” Alexander sat on the red velvet cushioned chair, it let up some of his tensed back muscles.

George sat in his leather chair and folded his arms on his chest. “I hope you understand how rare something like this opportunity is.”

Alexander swallowed hard, and nodded firmly. “Yes, sir I do.” George cracked a smile. “Relax son, you have blown me with the things you've accomplished, with...” He looked sternly at Alexander, it couldn't hide the trace of sorrow he gave towards the boy. “With what you've been through, and still... your passion for education is phenomenal.” Alexander gave a weak smile, he knew the man meant well, but he had no clue. “Thank you sir.” He said forcing his voice to sound grateful a small smile playing on his lips.

George looked own at the papers scattered on his desk. “Well, it says here you are being roomed with Jefferson, how was he last night?” Alexander swallowed hard. “Pleasant, thank you.” George lifted an eyebrow. “Jefferson... was pleasant? Well that's a first, he must like you.” Alexander tried to hide the look of horror on his face, was his dorm mate really that horrendous? He shrugged slowly, George could sense the uncomfortable tension in the room and moved some papers around his desk before he found the one he was looking for.

“Well, the student who will be showing you around today will be Aaron Burr.” He slid the paper across the desk, Alexander took the paper in his hands, he no longer needed that map. “You can just go meet him at his dorm, he'll show you around, then you will have time to unpack.” George said slightly smiling, looking at Alexanders bag on the floor.

Alexander bit his tongue and mentally slapped himself.

“Don't be afraid to contact me if you need anything.” Announced George as Alexander gathered his things and left the office. “Thank you sir.” Alexander said again. Right before he was out of the door George shouted back at him. “Oh, and Mr. Hamilton.” Alexander turned around. “Welcome to Princeton.” He nodded at the man, and let the door close behind him.

Alexander knocked lightly on the door, hoping that no one would answer, the door opened slowly, the creaks stretching out. “Yes?”A man appeared in the door. “Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr?” The man chuckled, “That depends, who's asking?” Alexander felt his nerves tense up the man in front of him was quite built. “Right, I'm Alexander Hamilton.” The man eyed him, un-moving, leaning on the door frame. He let out another chuckle and turned his head. “Yo, Burr, its for you.” Alexander let out an angry sigh, what exactly was the point of that?

Soon Aaron appeared in the door way, shoving his dorm mate aside, rolling his eyes while he looked over at Alexander.

“Sorry about that, that would be James Madison, pay no attention him.” Alexander nodded firmly at the new man standing in front of him, still annoyed at what had just happened. “So you're Alexander, I believe I saw you in the library last night, no?” Alexander scratched the back of his head, before he could open his mouth Burr let out a hearty laugh, “Don't worry about it, now I know what to show you first. You have your room number?” Burr was at a fair height, bald with a hint fade of unshaven hair.

“1786”

The boys walked in silence, the wind blowing loudly through the trees. “What your major?” Burr asked looking at the door numbers they passed. “Law.” Alexander mumbled out. Burr's eyebrow raise and he looked down at the man.

Alex wasn't the tallest boy on the planet, Burr was at least a few inches taller than him, but it still made him feel like a child when he looked down at him. “Really?” Alexander held his breath, what did he mean by that? Burr cracked a smile, “You must be on hell of a talker then.” Sarcasm laced his words as he winked down at him. Alexander rolled his eyes. “What about you?” He asked, wanting to move the focus off of him.

“Also law.” Alexander let out a little sigh. Great, they will be seeing much more of each other.

“Relax, I'm sure you know what you're doing, no one goes into law because they want an easy education.” Alex nodded back at him, okay maybe he wasn't all that bad.

Burr stopped without saying anything, Alexander almost walked right past him. He turned as Burr stood in front of the door. “Are you going to knock?” Questioned Burr. Alexander shook his head, of course he would be the one knocking, its his room. He moved in front of Burr and knocked, harder than he had on Aaron's door.

The door almost swung off its hinges. Tall in stature and gleaming down at him stood Thomas. “Well, well. I didn't think you'd show up.” The boys dark skin gleamed in the sun as he was in silk pj bottoms and a tank-top. Jefferson leaned down to Alexander, almost right in his face. His head covered in tight curls bounced and tickled Alexanders forehead.

He swatted it away and Jefferson leaned back up with a laugh. “Come on in” He moved his hip off to the side giving Alexander just enough room to squeeze past him. “Burr” Jefferson said coldly towards him. Burr ignoring Thomas looked over into the room as Alexander dropped his things on his new bed. “We don't have much time. You can unpack later.” Alexander nodded and spun on his heel, almost pushing past Jefferson again. “Have a good day Thomas.” Aaron said over his shoulder as they headed off.

Once again they were walking in silence, Alexander looked around, the quad was filled with students, lazing on the grass.

“Hate to tell you this.” Burrs words pulled Alex in from his day dreaming gaze. “Jefferson is also majoring in law.” Alexander let out a huff. “So I get no break from the guy.” Burr threw his head back as he let out a laugh. “I'm afraid not.”

Whilst walking a group of men came toe to toe with the two boys.

“Aaron Burr.” Alexander scanned the faces of the men blocking their way. “George” Burr let out dryly.

“Who's the new kid?” He talked directly to Burr refusing the make eye contact with Alexander, this irritated him. He was right here, and he was no child.

“This” Aaron started, placing his hand on Alexanders back. “Is Alexander Hamilton, hes majoring in law.” George gave him nothing more than a glance. He was pale, so pale the sun only made him shine like a light house, it almost hurt Alexanders eyes, his brown hair stood tall with small wisps. He was almost the same height as Alexander but he stretched himself taller to be able to look down at Alexander like he was scum.

The other men standing behind this George like bodyguards one was skinny and just as pale as him, his blond hair almost hung in his face, he was making eye contact with Alexander which gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The other one was quite tall, built and hair swept to the side glaring at him before staring straight for ward again.“Problem?” Alex finally spoke up. Burr turned to him in almost shock, this once again annoyed Alexander, its not like he hasn't said a word to him.

“No problem,” George announced, “Just don't get in my way.” Alexander rolled his eyes, was everyone in law? “Come on Samuel, Charles.” He called towards his friends as if they were dogs. They pushed in between Burr and Alexander, Georges shoulder bumped into Alexanders.

He turned to Burr, confusion plaguing his face. Burr raised his hand, knowing what he was going to say. “He's not a law major, hes just an asshole. He's in computer science.”

Alexander let out a sigh of relief, good.

They made it to the building dedicated to law.

“Finally.” said Burr,they entered the doors, Burr stood for a second as the air condition cooled off their warm bodies.

They made it into the lecture hall and took their seats.

The lecture was an hour, and thrilling for Alexander. Finally something to indulge in, he wrote down every word the teacher spat. It was almost a challenge for Alexander to keep up with the words that flowed out of the teachers mouth. But he kept up well.

As they were dismissed Burr glanced over at Alexanders notebook. “You can just record what he says you know.” Alexander felt his cheeks warm. “I uh, I prefer writing everything down.” Besides, Alexander had nothing to record with. Burr let out a small snicker. “I can see that.”

They exited the doors. “Where to next?” Alexander looked down at his schedule pretending to be unaware, although he had read it back and fourth, memorizing each class, each room, each time. “Debate” he said lowly, waiting for Burrs taunt towards his quiet demeanor. “Lets go” The man kept his quiet, Alex was quietly thankful for that.

The silence they shared was almost comfortable for Alexander now, he didn't like forced small talk.

They came to a stop and Burr leaned against the wall. “Here it is.” Alexander looked forward at the door, he almost felt like a kid being left by his mother on his first day of school.

Mother.

The word made his heart burn

“After this is lunch, I can meet you here or meet you in the lunch hall.” Alexander waved his hand. “I'm sure I can find my way there.” Burr nodded slowly then pushed himself off the wall.

“Alright.... Oh right, uh, George is in this class.” Alexander stiffened, trying not to show it, he had only met the guy but knew it was everything he despised in a person, he was a bully simple as that, Alex had done nothing wrong yet the boy was rude to him.

“Okay.” he said in a cold manner. “Be safe Alexander.” Burr said with sly smile on his lips.

Pushing the door open he walked into a fairly flat room, there were no tall aisles for people to listen, just lines of desk.

There would be no long lectures held here, just debate. Simple as that.

Glances around the room showed split up students, George and his crew that followed him before were all seated in desks in a neat square on the right side of the classroom, they all leaned forward, sitting at the edge of their chairs at every word George spat out.

On the other side there was a group of guys slung over desks and chairs joking poking and laughing loudly. He could have sworn one of the laughs was the same one he heard last night. George glanced up and saw Alexander standing at the entrance awkwardly, his smile was almost slimy.

“Mr. Hamilton, what a great surprise.” Alexander stared blankly at him. “A great surprise indeed.” He sarcastically grumbled back.

The guys on the other side of the room were watching as the dramatic scene unfolded in front of them.

“Please, join us.” George said as he pointed at the empty desk directly across from him.

Alexander thought for a minute about how his life would go if he decided to bow to every move George made.

He let out a low laugh. “No thanks” he said as he slumped in the seat in the back.

George rolled his eyes. “Your funeral.” Alexander eyed him angrily, he hated remarks like that, he bet that George had never had to experience death.

The screech of a chair being pulled out had Alexanders neck snapping forward. “Hey” Alexander had to lean back from the person invading his personal space. His big toothy grin came into view and the boy bounced impatiently waiting for a response from Alexander, but before he could get a single word out he said. “Je suis Lafayette. You've made a smart move my little friend.”

Alex gave him a puzzled look, he didn't get the sense of anger when someone else makes fun of his height, he felt like it was a compliment.

“Thank you, je m'appelle Alexander Hamilton.” The mans eyes lit up. “Tu parle francis?” His voice had the thickest accent, Alexander was surprised he knew any English, then again, what would he be doing here if he didn't know... Alexander sunk in his seat “Un petit peu” Lafayette had his obviously long hair tied back, he dressed sharply, his scruffy beard was disheveled yet clean looking, it was clear he was proud of his looks.

“Well mon petit ami, come meet everyone.” He tugged gently on the sleeve of Alexanders sweatshirt.

Alexander gave him another confused look. Lafayette chuckled at the him as he raised from the seat and looked down at him. “Come on.”

Slowly Alexander rose from his chair and followed close behind Lafayette who promptly pulled Alexander in front of him and placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Mes amies, may I introduce you to Sir Alexander Hamilton.” He patted Alexanders shoulders, showing him off to his friends. “Mon petit ami, this is Hercules Mulligan.” He waved dramatically to the bigger man sitting on top of a desk. He gave a quick wave. “You're a smart man, dude.” His deep voice rang through the quiet room, George no doubt heard these words, Alex liked the thought of that.

Hercules was big, and he means big, his chest puffed out almost like a show of dominance. “And this mon cher is, John Laurens.” Alexander looked over to the boy sitting in a desk with his legs up on the chair next to him. John gave him a gentle smile. The air hitched in Alexanders throat. He mumbled out a low. “Hi” John had freckles that looked like paint speckles, his smile went all the way to his eyes, his hair long and curly hung down to his shoulder. Alexander swallowed hard examining him.

“Welcome Alexander, always nice to see a new face here.” Alexander just nodded, his eyes never leaving Johns.

Another pat on the shoulder made him blink. “Take any seat.” John moved his legs from the chair in front of him and Alexander took the gesture and sat down, placing his backpack on top of the desk.

Chapter Two is now up on my page.

[salty-dracon]

T Minus Xero- Heaven is Hell

Theme: Lionhearted 0:00-1:40

What is life?

A girl stood in a green field as a yellow bus drove up. It opened its doors. The girl stepped on, followed by a group of other people. 

Why are we here?

The bus closed its doors. The girl took her seat in the back, staring out the window at the buildings passing by, clutching her backpack.

Where is heaven, and where is hell?

The bus reached an intersection.

A world that’s truly perfect would be boring. Yet they call heaven perfect. What is perfection?

The bus waited at the intersection until the traffic light turned green. Then, it began rolling.

Isn’t it better just to forget and be born again?

The girl heard a loud smash and  felt a sharp pain in her neck. 

She opened her eyes. She looked around. 

Velvet-lined seats. With teenagers sleeping in them. In front of her was a fold-out tray, and to her left was a window. The window was seemingly closed, but she could smell sweet air. In the background, she heard the gentle, rhythmic clacking of train tracks. 

Next to her, a boy wearing a black T-shirt and ripped blue jeans snored like an old man. A taller blonde boy was curled up on another seat, sleeping peacefully. More boys and girls, from every country and place in the world, were sleeping on the train car. 

The boy next to her opened her eyes. 

“W-Wuh...” His eyes drifted around as he tried to understand his surroundings. “What the hell... ” He turned to the girl. “Where are we?”

“No clue.” The girl closed her eyes again.

“Why are we on a goddamn train?”

“Don’t ask me.” The girl turned away.

“Who you?”

“Brooke. You?”

“Julien.” The boy in the black shirt sighed. “Does anyone here know where the fuck we are?”

“Please avoid using profane language in the traincar.” a voice said.

“Fuck you, mate.” Julien’s eyes drifted off.

“You’re going to sleep. That’s good. All of you should sleep. The journey will take a long time.”

“What journey?” Brooke asked.

“Your journey to heaven. You all are dead. You all died approximately 3 hours ago. However, because you are under the age of seventeen, all of you will be taken to heaven immediately, without any time in purgatory. Please, enjoy the conveniences of Heaven’s Express. To your front is a system to help wash away any last vestiges of guilt you may have about leaving the human world.”

“This thing?” Julien poked what looked like a video screen in front of him. It immediately lit up, reading a list of services. “The hell?!” Julien punched his screen.

Brooke lightly touched hers, and was greeted with a list. She recognized some words- “English”, “Francais”, “Espanol”. A list of languages. Brooke tapped “English”. The next prompt was in English. “Please enter your full name.” Brooke tapped out the letters to her name- “Brooke Alice O’Malley”. A magnifying glass showed up, with text under it reading “Searching…”, and then disappeared, leaving a box with Brooke’s picture. Brooke selected the picture. It opened, revealing a series of video feeds. Each had a name under it. Martin O’Malley, Alice O’Malley, Kelley O’Malley, Ariana Smith, Kailey Moreson…

All names of people she knew.

Brooke selected her mother’s name. The feed went full screen and began to play audio. It appeared to be through a person’s eyes, although their eyes were blurry. It showed an office. Her mother’s office cubicle. A picture of a paper. Dark, wet spots formed. In the background, Brooke could hear quiet weeping.

A view through her mother’s eyes?

Brooke exited the stream and selected her sister’s. She was at home, rummaging through Brooke’s stuff. Of course she was! Little sneak! 

“Oh my god!” Brooke exclaimed. “They’re all people close to me, and they’re...”

“Yes, Brooke, they’re thinking about you, and this is a feed through their own eyes.” The voice came again, but this time it was right behind Brooke. She turned around to find a woman in a white robe smiling at her. “If they were close, or if they think of you, their feed will show up here. It won’t matter in a few hours, though.”

Julien, meanwhile, had started up his own stream. He frowned when he tapped on the name of another boy. He concentrated on the stream. Tears began to fall from his eyes. “Shit, man... ” he muttered. “I wasn’t... that fuckin’ nice... ”

Next to Julien, the blonde boy was clutching his heart and tearing up. 

All around the train, people were tapping their screens, entering names, and watching feeds of their loved ones. Many of them wept silently. 

“Lady?” an Asian girl called out. “You said we didn’t have long to watch them.”

“I’m sorry I even mentioned them.” The woman in the white robe sighed. “You all look so unhappy. All of you, please release your sadness of the human world. You are going to heaven, and the world will be paradise there. You won’t even have to remember who your parents were, or who your friends are, or anyone, really!”

“That’s some dystopian novel shit right there.” Brooke leaned back against her chair and sighed.

“It’s not dystopia, it’s utopia.” The woman sighed. “I might as well turn these off now, they’re not really that important.”

This remark was met by a series of protesting from the crowd.

“Okay, okay, fine, fine!” The woman ran to the front of the train car. As she did, the passengers took note of a pair of white wings folded onto her back.

“An angel?” the blonde boy asked. “Probably a dominion, or a virtue, or something of that nature.”

“How do you know?” Brooke asked.

“I like this kinda stuff.” The blonde boy smiled. “I’m Arthur, by the way.”

“Julien.” Julien held his hand out, and Arthur shook it. “Behind me is Brooke.”

“So, how did you die?” Brooke asked.

“Beat up.” Arthur hugged his trench coat. “I was carrying some important stuff home, and they beat me up because they wanted money or something. Smashed my head against the pavement, I think.”

“School bus crashed into a truck, I think.” Brooke said.

“Suicide,” Julien sighed. “Well, looks like we’ve all got our share of troubles. What’s the backpack for, Brookesy?”

“School supplies. I had it with me when I died.”

“Wait, does that mean-” With hurried excitement, Arthur searched through his trench coat. He pulled out a Swiss Army Knife. “Yes! I have this with me!”

“Knife?” The angel woman stood behind Arthur. “You really shouldn’t take that into heaven.”

“Why not?” Arthur examined his Swiss Army Knife. “It was a present from my dad. I’m not gonna kill anyone with it.”

“But what if it gets stolen by someone who does want to kill with it?”

“It’s all I have left from home.”

The angel turned to Brooke. “And your backpack. You can leave that with-”

“Mine.” Brooke wrapped her arms around the backpack. “All of it is mine.”

“What’s in there?”

“Pencils, erasers, pens... ”

“Mechanical lead refills?”

“Like, ten. Not much.”

“It would be best if you relinquished it too, then-”

“Let me keep my goddamn bag.” Brooke hugged it even tighter. “There’s a ton of stuff in here.”

Once again, the passengers started protesting. The woman sighed and left the train car again. Behind her, her wings were drooping, even though she smiled.

A group of African kids at the front of the train car began to talk to one another. Brooke was surprised to hear that she could understand them perfectly. 

“I’m speaking English... ” Brooke muttered.

“You’re speaking French, dumbass.”

“So we can all understand each other’s languages?” Arthur asked. “Because I’m hearing the Chinese guys in front of me speak English.”

“You’re speaking Chinese.” A girl in front of them turned to them. “Aren’t you?”

“Nope, definitely Swahili.” A black girl in the front of the car spoke up.

“Cool.” Brooke sat back. “Name’s Brooke from America. I’ve always wondered what it’s like in China, though. Doesn’t it suck?”

“Well... ” The Chinese girl began to talk. “The government does a ton to cover up everything, but otherwise it’s not that bad, but my dad had to work a lot to make money, and... ”

“I lived in Lagos.” The African girl butted in. “It’s really nice! Oh, I’m Adeleke.”

“I’m Yu.” the Chinese girl said.

“Nice to meet everyone.” Arthur smiled. “Actually, I’ve learned a lot about your cultures. So, what’s the Chinese New Year like? I’ve heard a lot.”

The conversation continued for twenty hours as the entire train car chimed in with their own life stories. Brooke talked to people from every facet of the globe- Peru, Costa Rica, northern Canada, Africa, Syria, Romania, Mongolia and Japan, and more. 

“Attention, attention.” A voice pinged over the intercom. It was the female angel. “We will be arriving at the station in twenty minutes. Please be prepared to exit the Heaven’s Express and greet your best friends for the rest of your afterlife. Your guardian spirits will be waiting for you. There is one for each of you. They have come to greet you after death and take you to heaven. They will know who you are, so don’t be nervous. Make sure you make eye contact with them soon after you arrive. Trust me on this, it’ll be important later on.”

“The fuck?” Julien laughed. “I’m not doing anything that lady says.”

“She is scary,” Yu agreed. 

“Why wouldn’t you trust her?” Arthur asked.

“She tried to take away your knife, bud.” Brooke said. “And my backpack.”

“Maybe it was for our own good.”

“She wanted to turn off the screens.” Julien slapped the screen in front of him. “She wanted to keep us from knowing what was going on on Earth. I don’t trust her.”

“All right... ” Arthur muttered. 

“Don’t worry.” Brooke said. “Even if we don’t know what’s going on on Earth, we still have each other, right?”

“That’s right!” Yu said. Adeleke agreed, followed by a chuckle and nod from Julien and a grateful smile from Arthur.

“Wonder how addresses work, though.” Arthur said. “Like, if there’s an infinite amount of houses in heaven, how do they decide who goes where? And the house street names and numbers... ”

As Brooke listened to Arthur’s speech, her eyes glanced to the front of the car. The angel woman stood there, apparently listening to them. She glanced around worriedly and, after making a few strange faces, sighed and walked away. 

It was at that point that the train car stopped, and the rhythmic clacking that the entire crowd had grown used to stopped.

“Attention, attention!” The angel woman’s voice rang out from the intercom. “You have arrived at heaven. Please leave all of your personal belongings behind. We will take care of them. Just walk through the aisle, and your guardian will find you. Make sure you make some form of eye contact with them as soon as you meet them. They will be eager to guide you around and to your new home. Thanks for riding Heaven’s Express!”

The entire car stood up, bubbling with chatter, but Arthur remained seated and frozen.

“Arthur?” Brooke asked.

“My Swiss Army Knife... ”

“I’ll help you look.”

“So will I.” Julien kneeled down and began to look around people’s feet.

Yu and Adeleke stood up. “We’ll wait for you guys outside.” Adeleke said.

A few minutes of shuffling later, there were only four people left on the train: Brooke, Julien, Arthur, and the angel woman who none of them liked. 

“I’m sure it’s not that important.” The angel woman waited for them. “Come on, you’re keeping them waiting. I’m sure there’s many more Swiss Army Knives out there in heaven.”

“It had my initials on it.... ” Arthur whispered. He reached into his pocket. “It was in my pocket... ”

“The whole time?!” Julien snapped.

“T-T-Think so... ”

“Glad that’s resolved.” Brooke was about to pull her backpack on when she saw the angel woman reaching for the handle. “Will you stop trying to confiscate my backpack?!”

The woman was silent, apparently shocked that Brooke had noticed her. Brooke quickly snatched up her backpack and walked out of the car after Arthur and Julien. 

“There’s no one here.” Julien glanced out at the train station. It was made of white marble and upheld by tall pillars, so tall that you couldn’t see the ceiling. Benches were placed in random places. Sitting on one of them were three people. When they heard Julien, they stood up and smiled.

“Angels... ” Julien muttered.

One of them was a short woman with blonde hair and purple wings in a white Greek-style dress. The second was a taller woman with darker skin and chocolate brown hair in a fancy black dress. The third was a man with golden-orange hair in a white suit with golden accents, with orange wings unfolding behind him. 

“Arthur! Come on!” The blonde bolted forward and embraced Arthur, who looked shocked at the prospect of being hugged so suddenly. 

“Julien. We meet at last!” The woman in the fancy black dress took Julien’s hands.

“Brooke... was the ride long?” The last one walked up to Brooke and kneeled down in front of her. “I’m very happy to finally meet you in person.” He tipped her chin towards his face. “I’m Gray, and I’ve been protecting you for sixteen years.” He leaned in closer. “Your eyes are very beautiful. Please, let me have a closer look.”

They’re brown. What the hell do you want with them? Wait, is this what that lady was talking about?!

“Look at my eyes, darling... ” He leaned closer. “I’ve always dreamed of gazing into those eyes.”

“L-Later.” Brooke looked away. “Later... ”

Gray seemed shocked. Even the other two angels stopped doting on Julien and Arthur and stared at Brooke. 

“Later?” Gray asked.

“Sorry. It’s been a long ride.” Brooke pinched the area between her eyes, as if she had a headache. 

“I see. Later, then. Come on, darling.” He took her hand and began to lead her away. 

“Wait!” Brooke pulled him back. “Can I get their numbers?”

“Phone numbers?” Gray asked. “You don’t need them.”

“But they’re my friends!”

“As long as I know their angel’s names, I can contact them. And I believe they are Amelia Fisher and Lucia Constantinou.” 

The two women nodded in response.

“I guess this is goodbye for now, then.” Brooke smiled at the two boys. “See you soon.”

“It was great talkin’ to ya.” Julien wrapped his arms around Brooke. “Till next time, right?”

Arthur joined in. “P-P-Please don’t go... ”

Once they released their group hug, the three went their separate ways.

As Brooke watched them walk off, she couldn’t help but feel that despite their location in heaven, there was something dangerously wrong with the world they now lived in. She glanced up at Gray, who smiled back down. Something was wrong with him, too. Perhaps it was just her heart, trying to right itself from the shock that she was dead. 

“You need to rest.” Gray nudged her cheek. “You’re scared and confused. It’s okay, darling. You can ask me for anything, and I’ll provide.”

Brooke didn’t respond. 

“I have possessed nothing but love for you since the day you were born.” He sighed, as if remembering a happy memory. “You came out squealing. You were so scared. You were cold, and you were frightened, and your mother took you in her arms, and your father rushed immediately to your side and took you in his arms, and-”

“Stop it,” Brooke snapped.

“My point is, you will be safe with me, so I want you to trust me.” He smiled again at her. “I realize you know scarcely more than my appearance and name, but please, trust me.”

Brooke glanced around as they left the station. It was warm and had the air of summer peeking through windows. It was tall and intimidating, and lonely. It felt, Brooke thought, like entering the jaws of a beast, disguised as a train station. The jaws would snap shut at any moment. Brooke was terrified of when.

As Brooke turned to face the exit, she caught a flash of stray movement at the edge of her eye.

(AN: This is something I’ve made out of a recurring nightmare I’ve been having recently. It does have a continuation, and the reason it’s called T Minus Xero will be explained in future chapters, not that I plan to write any. I actually just wrote August, Val, Arthur, Bridget, and Palea with different names! Except for Arthur, but he has his own place in sahunters. That being said, if you would like to see this story continued or the entire plot summarized, let me know!)

[ginnyzero]

Completely Harmless Ch. 53

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Fifty-Three Getting Crafty with Happy Horse Week Decorations

Lily woke up in a light filled room she didn’t recognize. Linda sat next to her bed in a comfy chair reading the Pandoria Codex.

Lily croaked. “What happened?”

Linda shut the book and helped her sit up. “You fainted.”

“The last thing I remember was Alex closing the rift,” Lily waved a hand. She relaxed back into the pillows.

Linda passed her a glass of diluted grape juice. “You took Alex’s hand, and Alex says you took the power of Pandoria out of her that she’d gotten from the rift. Then you went outside and used the Star Fragment to heal everyone.”

“I don’t think that was precisely me,” Lily said after a few sips of water. “Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine. Alex is tired. Maya and Justin are fussing over her. She’s not taking it well because she’s Alex. Ms. Drake showed up after you passed out and was promptly arrested. We took down the rest of the wall and there’s enough to backfill both the site up under Hillcrest and the site in Valedale. They’re going to have to pack the one under Hillcrest tight. The Hillcrest mayor and Baron Winterwell are looking to change the style of the buildings going up that the G.E.D. started. The footings are salvageable but a lot of them were damaged during the raid.”

Lily sighed. “All’s well that ends well. Um, where am I?”

“In one of the rooms at the Manor. I think it was Anastasia’s.”

Lily glanced around. “At least it’s not pink.” The room did have a lot of lilac and lavender in it, both in flowers and in colors. The wallpaper had little sprigs of violets on white.

“We couldn’t keep you at the inn. It was too crowded and noisy. You need rest,” Linda adjusted her glasses. “I think you were possessed.”

“Joy,” Lily mumbled and sipped her juice. “She could have asked.”

“It’s possible according to the Codex,” Linda said. “I’ve never seen it before.” She frowned. “But I’ve never seen a lot of things before.”

“Hey, you haven’t been at this that long.” Lily wiggled against the mattress. “I’m tired too.”

“As the hero of the hour, you’re to rest. Tony is going to make you meals and everything.” Linda nodded. “You’ll be back on your feet in no time. It was simply your energy was drained and once you get it back, you’ll be fine.”

“Learned anything interesting?” Lily nodded at the book.

Linda set it aside. “Evergray says that there are portals that open into Pandoria. Not rifts, but more like rips between Pandoria and our world that if we can find them we can go through to Pandoria. But it’s a matter of finding the right rift that leads to the right area to get to Anne, Lisa, and Concorde. They can move around?”

“Huh.”

“Basically, we need a part of Pandoria that has been near where they are in order to find the right rift, or to open the gate in Guardian’s Dale to the right place.” Linda chewed her lip. “Supposedly the druids have multiple stones they’ve hidden around Jorvik to take them places inside Pandoria. But Evergray isn’t sure where. There are clues, I think, in the Codex. But we’re still puzzling them out. They aren’t obvious, like riddles.”

“Because that would be too easy.”

“But we’d need to get the right stone to get to the right place.”

“Elizabeth and Fripp would know,” Lily narrowed her eyes.

“They’re still saying that we need to wait and take our time.”

“They aren’t going to act until something horrible happens. I have this feeling,” Lily sighed and raked her hand through her hair. “Can I get a shower?”

“After you eat something,” Linda stood. “Let me go tell Tony you’re awake and she’ll bring you food.”

“Goodie,” Lily said.

Linda grinned at her and left.

--

Everyone came to visit Lily the few days she was in bed. They reported that because the race track was almost completed, Agnetha had them working on the gardens. All the flowers in those ones, unlike the Folly Terrace Gardens, were horse safe in case they took a yearning to nibble. Lily wasn’t too upset to be missing yet more gardening. Once Lily had her energy back they planned a trip to Jorvik City to go to the party store in order to look for decorations for Happy Horse Week.

“Is it me, but for being a horse loving country, the horse theme stuff is decidedly lacking,” Lily observed as she and Kate wandered around the store.

Kate sighed and rubbed her forehead. “No joke.”

“Okay, Kate, horse theme stuff. Like, what horses love? I guess.”

“You mean like sugar, oats, hay, apples, and carrots?”

“We need something.” Lily wrinkled her nose. “And the colors are what, blue and green with the white stripe and gold harp.”

“The harp on the flag is white.”

“But they’re looking for golden horseshoes.”

“Jorvik doesn’t make sense,” Kate said. “The sooner you accept this, the happier you’ll be.”

“Mints, horses can’t stay away from mints.”

“Let’s break this down,” Kate said. “Okay, we need banners for the stables.”

“And balloons,” Lily said.

“Amelia!” Kate looked around.

“I’m over here!” Amelia said from the end of another aisle, waving.

They hurried to join her.

“Found anything?”

She chewed her lip. “No. Not really.”

“What does the Open House also have for decorations? I mean, we need balloons. You can’t have a birthday party without balloons. And we need banners for the stables.”

“We have banners on poles. They’re currently dark pink with white roses. I think they’re supposed to be for an actual Jorvik Stable event?”

“Dark pink with white roses,” Lily muttered.

Kate blinked. “But you’re the Swans and your colors are Navy and White.”

“I didn’t order them, Cherie.”

Okay, so we need new banners and those might have to be custom ordered.” Lily sighed. “Because I don’t think dark pink and white roses are really going to fit the theme of Happy Horse Week.”

“Right, we need them in the color of Jorvik’s flag, and maybe with a horse head or a horse shoe or a horse head in a horse shoe,” Kate waved her hand.

“Or even make them the flag,” Lily shrugged.

“Okay, let’s start with what we can handle, the balloons,” Kate said and they locked arms and headed to the balloon section.

“What about plain balloons,” Lily said and pointed out the colors they needed.

“Boring!”

“Confetti balloons?”

“Only good if you can shake them otherwise, what’s the point?” Lily asked.

“Ah hah! Marble balloons!” Kate picked them up and waved them about.

“Sold!”

“Okay, garlands,” they moved onto the next section.

“Well, they’ve got triangular banners in all colors of the rainbow, rectangular ones, same,” Lily scanned the shelves. “I don’t think apples really say happy birthday horse country?”

“Not really,” Kate scratched her neck.

Lily glanced down the rows of packaged banners. “Is this Western Theme or English themed?”

“English, definitely English,” Amelia answered.

“That makes it more difficult. Well, it’s not like the cowboy hat garlands are precisely elegant,” Lily waved a hand.

“Oh, we can use black velvet riding helmet.” Kate bounced on her toes. “We can put ribbons on it or something.”

Lily frowned. “So, what you’re saying is that we should use what we’ve already got around the stables but jazz it up a bit?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to use plastic buckets. But we could get more metal ones. They’re pretty.” Kate nodded. “But that’s not a bad idea.”

“Oh, look, triangular banners and then horse shoes!” Amelia lifted them off the rack. She made a face. “They’re pink though.”

“Girls, we might have to get a bit crafty,” Lily said.

“Good thing we have extra time. Oh, I see triangular banners in Jorvik’s flag colors,” Kate grabbed them and put them in her basket.

“And here are some plain horse shoes, mais, not plain, but gold glitter,” Amelia said.

“So, we’ll have to restring them,” Lily sighed. “Because those banner and horse shoe ones actually look decent.”

“Ah hah, horse garland. Let’s see if they’ve got some bigger horse shoe decorations around, maybe some wooden ones. We can paint, and cover with glitter, then hang these horse garlands off of them.”

They went to the wooden craft section and sure enough they found horseshoes.

“Get some burlap style twine and we can use the holes to hang everything,” Kate said. And went off to get it.

“These ones have hearts.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They rounded up some glitter and acrylic paint both in gold.

“What are we going to use instead of wreathes. I mean, I know horses have wreathes around their neck if they win say, the Kentucky Derby, or something.”

“That’s the wrong circuit,” Amelia said.

“We can’t do the same thing twice.”

“Ribbons?”

They wandered down the paper crafts aisle. There were two horse themed grab bags.

Lily picked them up. “Horse shoes or horse faces?”

“Horse faces are cuter,” Amelia said with a grin.

“Horse faces it is,” Lily dropped them into her basket.

Kate returned with burlap string. “So cute!” She said of the horse grab bags.

“Championship ribbons, where do we get them and can we get them big?”

“Ohhh, good idea,” Kate bounced on her toes. “I’m sure we can find some big ones. We can use small ones and regular ribbons to jazz up the buckets.” Her face lit up. “Oh, look, hobby horses. I used to have so much fun with these as a kid.” She grabbed one, straddled it and ran up and down the aisle.

Lily and Amelia laughed. “Go Kate!”

“To the finish line!”

Kate had to stop running because she was laughing too hard. “We should do something with these.”

“I mean, they might not make bad décor,” Lily said.

“But the kids will steal them.”

“We need to do something for the kids. At least at the Midsummer Beach Party their parents were able to bring beach toys.” Kate put the hobby horse into the basket.

“Maybe we should have some party games? I mean it is supposed to be a birthday party?” Lily wrinkled her nose.

They turned down the vinyl wall art aisle.

“Ah hah! Horses!” Kate stood in front of them and flung out her arms.

“Kate!” Lily laughed and slapped at her.

“Showjumping,” Kate took one down. “Dressage.”

“So we need cross country,” Amelia said. “Or just a horse running basically.”

“Got it, with rider!” Kate said and added it to the basket.

“Party games,” Lily prompted.

“Oh you know, pinatas, pin the tail on the horse, horse shoes but plastic ones, maybe bobbing for apples. I’ve heard of this balloon game that could be pig pen or sheep pen, let them run hobby horse races.” Kate waved her hands.

“Face painting,” Lily said. “We should have face painting.”

Amelia nudged Kate. “You have siblings.”

“Yes, yes, I do,” Kate rolled her eyes. “I also live on a farm and we have farm days.”

“Then how do you jazz up a hay bale?”

“Colored ribbons,” Kate said promptly.

“Oh look, horse lanterns,” Amelia said.

“Yes, continue the lantern theme,” Lily grinned.

Amelia grabbed a package.

“Let’s see if we can find some toy helmets,” Kate said. “We don’t want to use real ones and have them stolen.” She made a face.

“People have been good about that so far.” Lily swung the basket.

“Oops, Championship ribbons,” Kate said and tugged different ones of different sizes off the racks and into the basket.

“Horse masks!” Amelia shouted and put them in the basket.

“Party hats!”

It had polka dots, a championship ribbon decoration and a ruffle on the bottom and a pompom on the top.

Amelia and Lily laughed.

“Those are ridiculous,” Amelia wheezed.

“Oh, people will love them!” Kate put them in the basket. She saw something and clapped her hands. “That’s how we make the big championship ribbons.” She grabbed a couple of the fans. They were circular pleated decorations made of paper. “See, we take blue, green, and white ones of different sizes, layer them, and then we can get some ribbons to hang from them, make something for the middle and big championship ribbon!”

“Works for me.”

“And we can get scrapbook paper and make cones for party favors,” Amelia picked up one and held it out.

“You know, they can look like carrots too,” Kate said as they wandered into the aisle to look for wrappers for their candy cone favors. “If you put something orange in them.”

“Cheetos?”

“Too fluffy.”

“Fish crackers,” Kate grinned. “And tie them off with a green ribbon. Carrots.”

“I was thinking of putting granola in the others.”

“And maybe a selection of mint candies? Or apple candies. Let’s walk through candy.”

“Apples are kind of back to school,” Lily pointed out.

“And carrots are kind of Easter,” Amelia retorted.

“Candy apples,” Kate grinned.

“Halloween,” both Lily and Amelia said together.

“Girls, girls, do you know what can look like hay bales?” Kate asked to divert them.

“Nooo,” Lily said slowly.

“Rice Crispy treats!”

“Oh boy, this is getting sugary.”

“Not our kids, not our problem.”

“We can put out carrot sticks, and apple slices, and you know, little sandwiches in the shape of horse heads.”

“The reason you go to a party is to get sugar high,” Amelia pointed out.

They giggled.

“What about potato sticks, you know those fried crunchy things that aren’t chips or crisps but you know, kind of look like hay.”

“Ohhhh,” Kate said, “Great idea, Lily.”

Lily shrugged. “I’m sure there are apple chips too.”

“Dehydrated apple slices basically.”

There were good mint candies so they bought different ones to put in the cones.

There were black toy helmets in the doll aisle and for a reasonable price.

“Phew, and plastic, I bet we can get some velvet paint and then just decorate them with ribbons and rhinestones,” Kate said as she grabbed a couple.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Lily nodded. “What are we going to do for tables?”

“Picnic check is too western.”

“So are barrels,” Lily wrinkled her nose. “And burlap seems to country.”

“Flag stripe?”

“Might as well,” Lily sighed.

“We have grab bags, we better have something in said grab bags or we’re going to have crying kids,” Kate said.

They headed to the toy section and found both stuffed and plastic toy horses. They also found horse themed rubber ducks.

“Have you ever seen a rubber duck race?”

“A rubber duck race?”

“Dump a bunch of rubber ducks off at the top of the Silversong, mark an end point and the first rubber duck past it wins? Adults like to bet on it, the kids like to watch.”

“That could be fun,” Lily said. “We can try it.”

Kate got some of the rubber ducks.

“How are we going to explain any of this to the others?” Amelia asked.

Lily shrugged. “They’ll just have to deal.”

“Lily is recovering and we’re having fun. You came along because you have the ideas for the Open House,” Kate said. “Besides, I think we’re doing fine.”

“Horse stickers,” Amelia said picking them out.

“A plushie, a plastic toy, a bouncy ball, stickers,” Lily chewed her lip.

“Pencil and a lollipop?”

“Noisemaker and bracelet?”

“Keychain?”

“Horse ear headbands,” Lily picked them off the shelf. “I have now seen it all.” She put them on. “How do I look?”

“Fabulous!” Kate laughed.

Amelia took a picture as Lily posed.

“We are definitely getting those, the kids will love them!” Kate grabbed them.

Amelia chewed her lip. “I don’t think noisemakers are a good idea around horses.”

“A kazoo then?”

“Available and in Jorvik patriotic colors.” Kate said and hefted a package dropping it into the basket.

“I Love Horses bracelets.” Amelia held up a bag of plastic like bracelets printed with the phrase in Jorvik blue, and green with white words.

“Have the benefit of being charmless, so we aren’t mimicking Rainbow Week.” Lily pointed out.

Amelia tossed them into the bag.

“I think we favored out here,” Lily joked.

“The kids will like it, and after the horse ducky race, we can hand those out too.” Kate said.

“I think we’ve got enough. I mean, I’m not sure about the food. In comparison to what we’ve been doing,” Lily chewed her lip again.

“Nah. Moorland is having the huge birthday feast remember? With the big carrot and apple spice cake? All we have to do is put out some snacks to keep the kiddos and their parents going.”

Lily relaxed. “If that’s the case, we should have enough. Just put out a table.”

“Right, table cloth!” Kate said and charged off.

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Found one!” Kate came back with a Jorvik flag stripped table cloth.

“And buckets,” Amelia reminded her.

“Right, buckets,” Kate said and took off again. “Oh, they have little plastic silver ones we can put the potato stix in.” She said and added them to the cart.

“Check out,” Lily grabbed her arm. “Before we buy out the store.”

“We haven’t even started on that yet,” Kate said in a low voice.

“Because we still have to sell these ideas to the other girls,” Amelia rolled her eyes.

“They’ll love it,” Kate said. “Watch, I’ll make up a mini spread of the treats and everything for the meeting and decorate the hall, and we won’t have to sell it. They’ll see it and call it perfect.”

“You are so optimistic,” Lily said.

“You fainted. If we say you picked this stuff out, then they’ll have to go along with it.” Kate grinned.

“We won’t be able to milk that forever,” Lily told her.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lily bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at Amelia. “Linda thinks I was possessed by Aideen.”

Amelia crossed herself. “Is she an angel or a demon to do such a thing?”

“Alien,” Lily said.

“Weird,” Kate said. “Alien possession.”

Lily shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“As long as you’re okay, not acting funny, or anything,” Kate said. She stopped Lily and peered into her eyes grabbing her chin.

“I’m fine,” Lily grated out.

“Just making sure!” Kate stuck out her tongue at her.

Lily huffed.

“I shall pray for your sake, it doesn’t happen again. It sounds scary not being in control of your own body.”

“I don’t exactly remember, but yeah,” Lily shivered. “Scary is a good word for it.”

They paid at the register and Lily wrangled out of the girl were they could get custom banners made. Amelia texted her club to find out how big they were on the way to the banner shop.

“At least we’ll be able to reuse them a lot,” Lily muttered. “I mean, they could be used for other festivities if we want.”

Kate nodded.

They talked to the guy who was more than willing to make them flag banners and sell them the poles. It would be a hefty investment. Lily winced and asked for a quote. “Let’s see if the stable owners will buy them,” she said in a low voice.

They thanked the man and told them they’d be in touch soon.

They went to the mall café for lunch. Thankfully, they didn’t run into Anastasia.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.