#and then my other band friend working stared at him and he recognized her and asked if we were hiding any more band ppl

[solace-seekers]

i worked for one (1) day and already had to take the order of one of my band directors

[erwinsvow]

how dad's best friend rafe and reader met ♡

"do you need anything else, mister cameron?"

the soft-spoken words come from somewhere behind him—and said with such sincerity he's a little taken aback. rafe's been to a million and one of these—events and outings and even smaller, more intimate dinners at home like this one—but the wife of whichever business partner he's entertaining this time has never asked this specific question in this specific way.

you sound young, pretty. it's not surprising—half the men at his work are a walking, talking stereotype with a divorce under the belt and a young girl on their arm, and you must to belong to one of them.

he turns around getting ready to tell you he doesn't need anything, but when he's face to face the sentence seems to evaporate into thin air.

you're not one of them—the wives who plaster on a smile and make small-talk while keeping one eye on the clock. no, rafe is sure that you're not.

he was right about two things at least—you are young, and you are very pretty. you smile sweetly at him, eyes blinking in anticipation of his answer.

his own eyes flicker down, first to your left hand. a breath releases by itself, the relief of not finding a wedding ring or engagement band on your fingers completely evident. then they wander down a little—taking in the hem of your dress which dances above your knees. finally, back to your waiting eyes, a little concern dancing around them.

"mister cameron?" it snaps him out, and rafe clears his throat. his hand tightens around the glass of scotch he's been clutching onto, and any tighter will have it shattering.

"no, no, m'fine, thank you. and it's just rafe, actually. rafe is fine."

your polite smile deepens a little, eyes meeting his own and then looking away quickly. he doesn't need your words to tell him—body language and those pretty eyes are enough for a guy his age to decipher you completely.

you're a little flustered, maybe you weren't expecting his response. now that he thinks back a little, just over the last half-hour he's been here, he's seen you floating around, each time with a drink in your hand, off to deliver it to whichever coworker of his was an asshole enough to make you fetch a drink instead of getting it themselves.

it doesn't make much sense—you're here as a guest too, not a waitress, and you know names before introductions are made, and yet-

"i don't know if my dad would approve of that," you say with a laugh, a sweet, sincere laugh to match all of your other sweetness.

things start clicking—remember the name on the invitation for tonight and the coworker who always talking about his family and then it finally comes back—'my daughter's home from school, so you'll get to meet her.'

"yeah." it comes out quiet.

rafe clears his throat, suddenly feeling a little tight even though he was just fine a moment ago. he takes a sip of scotch while looking back at you, and this time he drags it out. starting from your cute heels to your matching dress, the long expanse of exposed skin in between them. how you play with your hands while talking to him, particularly fiddling with that left ring finger. it just makes him think he should get you something to put on there, something to play with instead of your soft skin.

"yeah, kid. wouldn't wanna make him upset, would we?" the question teeters on the edge of teasing. he doesn't want to be too upfront, doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

what rafe's failed to recognize is the way your eyes have been glued to him since he walked through the door. how you had to go through a seemingly endless list of your dad's work-friends before you could make your way over to the one you wanted to talk to. and while he's taking in you, you're taking in all of him, staring up at a man who towers over you wondering what exactly is hiding underneath his suit jacket.

"i mean.. he doesn't have to know everything. right, rafe?"

"yeah, kid.." he falters, staring at your expression trying to understand what you're really thinking. you smile back at him brightly, taking a step closer. "right."

[the-kaedageist]

It is years before her hard work pays off. The time is worth it.

She’s done her homework well. She figures out the best time to approach, when her son will feel least threatened. Not when he’s alone. Preferably when he’s in a public place, providing as much safety to him as to her. After five years, the last thing she wants to do is spook him badly enough that she has to track him down again.

She has lived over a millennium. That doesn’t stop her from pausing outside the crowded tavern in Ank’harel, shrouded in the image of a high elf, her heart echoing in her ears. A millennium of life has been nothing without taking risks – but it has been centuries since she’s risked her heart.

She takes a final breath and ducks inside.

The tavern is loud. A band in the corner plays a Taldorian jig, which she recognizes from her three months spent negotiating a trade agreement in Whitestone. Raucous chanting rings from the opposite corner, where a halfling woman and a purple-skinned tiefling are chugging from enormous mugs. She’s so appalled by the drinking competition that it takes her several seconds to turn her attention back in that direction, realizing that they’re exactly the group she’s looking for.

“HA!” shouts the halfling, audible even over the band as she slams down the ceramic drinking mug; it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter on impact. “Suck it, Kingsley!”

The tiefling lowers his mug half a second later, groaning. “You’re cheating.”

She takes a moment to survey the rest of the group. There are nine of them in total, gathered around a long rectangular table running along the length of the side wall.

Next to the tiefling, a dark-skinned human woman in blue waves a similar mug, shouting, “it’s my turn next! Bring it on!” A larger woman with striking hair is staring at this next challenger with clear fondness as she sips from a clear glass. On the other side of the table, a tall pink firbolg and half-orc are deep in conversation, ignoring their companions. A blue-skinned tiefling woman braids the firbolg’s hair and cheers at the drinkers.

On the halfling’s other side, a redheaded human man is tapping his fingertips to the music. He leans against the man she seeks.

She takes a moment to study her son. He’s completely undisguised, his hair a tad longer but just as carefully styled as she remembers, his ears dangling with silver jewelry. From her surveillance, she knows he ordinarily operates in disguise; he clearly has decided to forgo caution here, on another continent surrounded by his friends.

She expects him to look uncomfortable or displeased at the antics of the group – but he is laughing, leaning his forehead into the redheaded human’s shoulder, a flash of fang revealed in his open joy.

In over one hundred and twenty years, she’s never seen him smile like that. It is startling, unbalancing; had she ever truly known him?

Read the rest on AO3 (4,793 words)

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you <;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

[royalwilmon]

this is a prequel of sorts to always on the tip of my tongue! a glimpse into wille and simon's very first taco tuesday. eventually (like, after all of tomt is published, so basically never) this will be one part in a series of mikael pov insights into wilmon's relationship, but i wanted to share this for now! enjoy!! <333

if he likes you, he'll smile

Mikael had been working at Geronimo’s for nearly two months the day that he met Wille and Simon. 

He didn’t even think he’d be in the job that long. He had just been laid off from another corporate bullshit position and had been enjoying a proper midlife crisis when another eviction notice forced him to resort to bartending again. Geronimo’s FGT was decidedly not his kind of place. He hated how touristy the area was, hated the shitty bands the owners constantly had in for live entertainment, and more than anything, hated how monotonous the job started feeling just after a couple of weeks. 

He wanted to quit. He was seriously considering giving his notice. He nearly did several times, but for whatever reason, he kept hesitating. It was good that he had a job for now, but he was already restless. Something was missing. Mikael didn’t know what he would do or where to go next, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was invisible here. Mikael couldn’t even remember the last time he had an honest-to-God conversation with someone. In this town, the idea of him disappearing forever without a soul noticing he was gone was more reality than fear. 

And then, one day, on a Tuesday in autumn just like any other Tuesday, Crown Prince Wilhelm sat at the bar right before him. 

Mikael didn’t give a shit about the royal family. He was surprised he even recognized him. He probably only did because Wilhelm was around the same age as Sanna, his daughter. Mikael remembered the headlines when Erik passed away. It was right after Mikael got into that last big argument with Nea before she packed everything they owned, left, and took Sanna with her. He remembered watching the videos of Erik’s funeral on the news, seeing pictures and closeups of Wilhelm, and just thinking about how young he looked. 

He still looked young now. His hair was shorter, his face more angular, and he didn’t look sad like he always did when he was on the news. Quite the opposite, really. He had another person with him tonight, a shorter boy who looked even younger, whose smile seemed so bright and genuine that Mikael almost felt blinded by it. As the two boys slid into their respective barstools, bright laughter filled the room, and Mikael thought that today would be different. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know if the change he felt was necessarily a good one, but it was different. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to address the prince in any sort of particular way. For a moment, he thought maybe the prince was trying to be discreet, and he shouldn’t address him at all, but the pair of security staff who followed the duo inside and positioned themselves nearby made it clear that Crown Prince Wilhelm was here. Plus, people around the restaurant noticed him and started staring. All eyes Mikael could see were on Wilhelm. 

If the attention bothered Wilhelm and the boy sitting beside him, they didn’t let it show. Mikael couldn’t imagine that it didn’t. He felt awful for the kids. As the stares turned into whispers turned into audible speculation, Mikael felt the urge to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. But if he was going to quit this job, he at least wanted to do so on good terms so he could still have references. He did not need to have to explain the fact that he was fired because he lost his temper in front of a prince to his next employers. 

Realizing that he was staring, too, and was maybe now part of the problem, Mikael cleared his throat, leaning forward on the bar and raising his voice so Wilhelm and his friend could hear him. 

“Can I get you boys something to drink?” Mikael asked, trying his best to sound casual and uninterested.

“What do you have with tequila?” Wilhelm asked. His voice was teasing, his smile playful. Mikael was caught off-guard. He hadn’t spent any amount of time thinking about what the Crown Prince might be like, but this young, smiling boy was nothing like what he might have expected. 

Mikael didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes a little. He picked up a drink menu and placed it down in front of Wilhelm, dragging his finger around the portion of the menu that listed their cocktails and detailed which tequilas they had on the shelf. 

Mikael watched Wilhelm’s smile twist into an amused smirk before he looked down at where Mikael was pointing. 

“Mmm, I’ll take a ginger beer, please,” Wilhelm’s friend said, reading the drink menu over Wilhelm’s shoulder. Mikael nodded and reached under the bar, opening the cooler and pulling out a glass bottle. He placed it in front of the boy, who smiled at him brightly and thanked him. Exceedingly polite. 

Mikael took a moment to size up the prince’s companion. He certainly didn’t seem royal or even royal adjacent. He looked astoundingly normal. While Wilhelm was outfitted stylishly and professionally in a collared shirt and smart sweater, the other boy came simply dressed in jeans and an old hoodie with the drawstring missing. The two boys looked like they came from two different worlds, but at the same time, there was a sort of familiarity and ease between them that felt… right. 

“How spicy is the spicy margarita?” Wilhelm asked, looking up at Mikael with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that Mikael didn’t quite know what to do with. 

“No. No, Wille,” the boy cut in before Mikael could even open his mouth to answer. “You can’t keep pretending you like spicy things. You’ll take two sips, spend the rest of dinner complaining about it, and end up wasting the entire drink.”

“You don’t know that,” Wilhelm grumbled, pouting dramatically as he looked back down at the menu. 

Mikael had to bite back a chuckle. It was amusing how comfortable the boys seemed with each other. The boy called the prince Wille and teased him knowingly. It was strange, seeing someone so famous casually sat in front of him, so strikingly human. Mikael felt drawn to the prince and his friend, almost like he was a part of their world. Or, maybe stranger, that they were a part of his. 

“I’ll order the House Margarita if you can tell me what’s in Geronimo’s Secret Margarita Mix,” Wilhelm said, looking at Mikael with that same playful smile that continued to catch him off guard. 

“It’s written in the employee handbook that if we tell someone, we have to kill them,” Mikael said, without thinking. He had a moment of doubt when he thought that maybe threatening violence against a prince might not be the smartest move, but at Wilhelm’s widening smile, he continued. “It also explicitly states that we do not grant exceptions regardless of rank. The only way one can learn the secret of the Margarita Mix is if they have concerns about allergens.” 

Wilhelm’s friend laughed at that, beaming at Mikael with a thousand-watt smile. 

“Oh, I like you already,” he said. The boy looked at Mikael closer now, considering him in the same careful way Mikael had just done with him. After so much thought about how working in this part of Stockholm made him seem invisible, in this moment, he felt almost unnervingly seen. “I’m Simon. Best friend of Wille. Official title. What’s your name?”

Still apprehensive, Mikael just pointed to his chest, where a nametag was pinned to his apron. 

“Mikael,” Wilhelm read, grinning wide.

“Good, he can read,” Mikael muttered to himself before he had a second to think better of it. 

His gaze flickered over to Simon, who looked like a kid at a candy store. Clearly, he was delighted that Mikael was instantly willing to poke fun at Wilhelm. Mikael didn’t know why he was chasing the approval of this… kid. Especially at the expense of the actual Crown Prince of their country. It was something to do with Simon’s smile, Mikael thought. It felt familiar. It reminded him of Sanna. 

Mikael knew his face fell at that realization. He also knew that Simon had caught it, and Mikael watched as his smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second. 

“Literacy is one of his better qualities,” Simon said to Mikael, glancing over at Wilhelm with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“It’s ‘Gang Up on Wille’ day, huh?” Wilhelm muttered, looking up briefly to glare at Simon. Simon just laughed lightly, looking down at the food menu the hostess had given them when they first sat down. 

Someone in Mikael’s position would have to be blind not to notice the rush of pink on Simon’s cheeks. Mikael remembered what it was like to be that age, no older than nineteen or twenty if Mikael had to guess. He recognized Simon’s exact blush from his early memories of Nea. 

Mikael wasn’t ready to make any assumptions, but he was briefly curious. He thought he would have heard something if the prince was gay. Or bisexual or whatever, Mikael didn’t know. Then again, maybe they were trying to be discreet. But, Mikael thought, there were definitely places more discreet than a busy restaurant in the middle of Gamla stan, just minutes away from the royal palace. 

So, they were probably best friends. Still, Mikael noticed the way Simon looked at Wilhelm, like he had just hung the moon. It wasn’t nothing. 

None of his business, though. 

“I’ll have the House Margarita. Salted rim, please. For now, you can keep your secrets,” Wilhelm said, smiling at Mikael again. “But next time, I’ll find a way to get you to tell me while also sparing my precious life.”  

“Precious,” Mikael scoffed, causing Simon to let out another breath of laughter. 

Mikael opened his mouth to ask to see Wilhelm’s ID before he stopped short. Do members of the royal family even carry identification? Mikael knew Wilhelm was over eighteen, but he was still legally required to ask. Unless there was an exception for princes? He didn’t think there would be, but he also had no reason to know. Would Wilhelm get mad at him for asking? He couldn’t help but glance over to the security guards, who, admittedly, looked terrifying. 

Mikael thought back to how he wanted to quit this job before they fired him. He did not want to have to tell the story of how he was fired for not carding the Crown Prince. 

“Can I see your ID?” Mikael asked, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. 

Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, but he instantly reached into his pocket to remove his wallet and his ID, which, apparently, he did carry with him. That was good to know. 

“I’ve never seen you get carded before,” Simon said to Wilhelm, beaming ear to ear. “This is the best day of my life. I hope the food is good, Wille. This might finally be our place. It feels right.” 

Mikael glanced down at Wilhelm’s ID (which was weird, so extremely weird. Wilhelm had so many names and probably the nicest picture Mikael had ever seen on an ID) before handing it back to him wordlessly. 

Mikael set to work making Wilhelm’s drink, thinking that their interaction was over for now, but Simon spoke up again, surprising him.

“So, Mikael,” Simon said, his voice curious and friendly. “Have you always lived in Stockholm?” 

The answer to the question was no, but Mikael was a very private guy. He didn’t want strangers asking him personal questions. It was none of their business. Especially not the prince’s. 

Mikael finished pouring the last of the ingredients into his cocktail shaker before answering Simon’s question with a frown and a shrug. It wasn’t a yes or a no—it was just an acknowledgment. Simon seemed to take the hint, and he just smiled at him with a nod. Understanding, gracious, unnervingly kind. 

Simon and Wilhelm were quiet while Mikael finished making the drink. They looked around, admiring the space. For all of its faults, Geronimo’s FGT was fun. Decked out in colorful textiles, weird bird taxidermy, and neon cacti, the place felt like a fever dream interpretation of the American Southwest. Mikael did love it, and so, as it would seem, did Simon and Wilhelm, who each wore small, pleased smiles on their faces as they took in the atmosphere of Geronimo’s. 

Giving the margarita a few good shakes, Mikael poured it into a mason jar with a salted rim and slid the drink over to Wilhelm, who thanked him profusely and wasted no time downing half the drink with one prolonged sip.  

“Nectar of the gods…” Wilhelm mused, putting the jar down with a satisfied sigh. Mikael still didn’t know quite what to make of Wilhelm, but he thought that he liked him. Or, at least, he was pleased that the prince seemed to approve of his bartending skills. 

“Anything to eat?” Mikael asked, using both his hands to point at the pair of menus in front of Wilhelm and Simon. 

“It’s Tuesday, so definitely tacos,” Wilhelm said, with so much enthusiasm. 

“Which tacos would you recommend?” Simon asked, looking up from his menu to Mikael. 

“They’re all fucking great,” Mikael said, truthfully. Since starting here, Mikael had tried and enjoyed pretty much the entire menu. “Birria are good. Fish, too.” 

Mikael watched Simon and Wilhelm exchange a look, wordlessly communicating before Simon nodded and grinned, turning back to Mikael. 

“Perfect, we’ll try those,” Simon said, before glancing back at Wilhelm. “And we’ll split them so we can both try both.” 

“And queso, too. Please. As much as you’re willing to give us,” Wilhelm added, before doing something weird with his eyes. Mikael thought Wilhelm might have been trying to wink, but he wasn’t sure. He might just have something really wrong with his vision. 

Mikael left to put in their food orders, and then, a little reluctantly, went back to work. As much as his curiosity made him want to linger by Wilhelm and Simon, there were other patrons sitting at his bar, and more drink orders coming in for him to work on. Even if he had literal royalty at his bar, Mikael couldn’t afford to give them all of his attention. He was cutting his rent a little too close as is. 

While Mikael was able to busy himself with the Taco Tuesday crowd, he did occasionally try to listen in to Simon and Wilhelm’s conversation, just to get a better idea as to what their deal was. He wanted to know why they were here, of all places.

It sounded like they were catching up on the past week or so of their lives. Simon must have been a student, probably here in Stockholm, as he spent most of his meal talking animatedly to Wilhelm about various classes and professors. Wilhelm was listening intently, nodding along and peppering in questions and comments throughout. 

Mikael realized that their appearance at Geronimo’s was really quite simple. Wilhelm and Simon were two friends, meeting for dinner to catch up on each other’s lives. There was nothing fancy, no royal banquets or expensive wines or anything. Just two friends sat at a bar, eating tacos and talking about their day. 

It was… endearing. 

When it was getting late, and their plates were all but licked clean, Mikael approached Wilhelm and Simon again, leaning against the bar opposite them. He offered them a sort of smile, a slight purse of his lips that was just about as friendly as his face could get. 

“Good?”

“Fucking great,” Wilhelm grinned, repeating Mikael’s praise from earlier. 

Giving the boys a satisfied nod, Mikael placed the bill between Simon and Wilhelm. Simon let out a loud bark of laughter before pushing the bill directly to Wilhelm. 

“Why do I always get stuck paying?” Wilhelm said, teasingly. Still, he didn’t hesitate to immediately take out his wallet and hand Mikael a card, smiling politely all the while. 

“Wilhelm, do not get me started today. You are already on such thin ice,” Simon said, his voice surprisingly serious. Simon must have had plenty of thoughts on the excessive amount of cash Wilhelm surely had at his disposal. It was surprising—in a good way, Mikael thought. Wilhelm seemed to have a friend with a good head on his shoulders. Polite, engaging, and willing to challenge him. 

Mikael really, really liked this Simon kid. 

He also really, really missed Sanna.

Mikael ran Wilhelm’s card and returned it to him. Wilhelm pocketed his wallet, thanked Mikael again, and then started to get up. 

“You’ll be working next week, right Mikael?” Simon asked as he stood. Mikael was surprised at the question and didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Simon for a prolonged moment, raising an eyebrow. “Next Taco Tuesday. We’ll see you here again. Next week?” 

Mikael shrugged and smiled a little. He supposed he would stick around until next week, at least, if that meant seeing Wilhelm and Simon again. He was still curious about them. He wanted to listen to them more and try to understand them better. 

“Next week, then,” Wilhelm smiled. He crinkled his eyes in that weird and awkward way again—probably a wink. Then, with a final wave, they left Geronimo’s, security detail in tow. 

Suddenly, Mikael’s monotonous job felt like the most interesting place in the entire country. Maybe Mikael would quit next week. 

But for now, he’d stay. Make a couple of margaritas. Eat a few more tacos. Have a fucking good time. 

[rebelspykatie]

Rushin' through me like a fire Part 2

A Steddie Club AU

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

“Well I do. I don’t even know your last name or how old you are, but you want to get in my pants already?” 

Austin rolls his eyes. “Is that all it takes? It’s Lim and I’m thirty-four. Now can we move this along?” 

His gut is telling him this guy is bad news, to run in the other direction and never look back. Unease settles in his stomach. He stares at the guy for another moment before he says, “I’m not going to sleep with you tonight, if that’s all you want.” 

Another eye roll, but this one is with his whole body, pulling him off his bar stool and sipping up the last of his mojito. He leans down to say directly into Steve’s ear, “Go somewhere else if you want romance, honey.” 

As he walks away, Steve slumps back against the bar, the tension he didn’t even know he was holding draining from his body in one fell swoop. This was such a bad idea. Why did he think a bar would be the best place to meet someone? He’s all too aware of what most of the people in this room are looking for, it’s why he sticks close to Robin when they come here. Without her as a buffer, he’s left to the sharks. He thought he was ready to dive into those waters, but maybe not.

“Rough night?” An unfamiliar voice asks from behind him, startling him off the edge of the bar.

When he spins around on the stool, he’s met with a pair of brown saucers staring back at him, glittering orbs, on a face Steve’s never seen before. He thought that they knew every bartender here, but clearly that wasn’t true. Although, this guy isn’t wearing the standard all black attire or a waist apron. 

Instead, he’s donning an intricately cut band tee for another one of the groups Steve’s never heard of, something about a priest. On it, there’s a robotic looking tiger that’s about to pounce and what Steve assumes is the band’s logo surrounding the image. He’s got on black, skin-tight pants with artistic rips at knee level. Steve’s practically swooning over a little kneecap like he’s a Victorian maiden seeing an ankle in the streets. 

Scars litter his skin, snaking up his neck and down his left arm. His long, curly hair is pulled back into a ponytail, putting them on full display and Steve wants to run his fingertips over the ridges. He doesn’t let his eyes linger too long, even if he’s not looking at the scars so much as the expanse of neck he wants to sink his teeth into. Rings adorn his fingers, glittering in the lights around the bar, and a smattering of tattoos are inked onto his forearms. He just thought that Austin was hotter than the sun, but he has nothing on this man. Mouth dry and heart beating uncomfortably in his chest, he shakes his head, refocusing on what the guy said. 

“You could say that,” Steve huffs self-deprecatingly and shrugs. “I’m a bit out of practice.”

“Didn’t look that bad from here,” he leans against the bar, “seems like it was that guy’s loss.” 

His stare is intense, burning against Steve’s skin. He’s not quite sure what’s different about it, but his gaze doesn’t feel as predatory as Austin’s, or any other person in the room. It’s striking, a little playful and flirtatious, but not overly hungry. It’s been too long since someone flirted with him just for the sake of flirting. 

“Are you new here?” Steve asks, unable to tear his eyes away from this guy’s face, trying to memorize the dimples and sharp cheekbones. 

That makes him laugh, a sly smirk popping up that intrigues Steve. “No, and you’re not either, dancing queen. Does that line work on most people?”

He sputters for a second, thrown by the question. “I- that wasn’t a line. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before and I come here all the time with my best friend.” The dancing queen part of that statement finally clicks. Was this guy watching him? Had he been watching him? 

That makes him laugh harder and Steve is so lost. He must recognize the look on his face because he finally says, “I’m Eddie. I own the bar.” He waves a hand at the bottles. “And you’re Robin’s Steve.” 

“How do you know who I am?” 

“You do know there are cameras in here, right? I make it a point to keep an eye on all the regulars. Especially when they start showing an interest in my best friend.”

Steve feels about ten paces behind this conversation, brain moving like molasses to put the pieces together. “Wait, you’re Chrissy’s Eddie.” 

“The one and only.” He nods and gestures to Steve’s drink, “You want another one?”

“I think I need it after this,” he mutters.

Eddie chuckles and starts mixing him another round. He adds a flourish onto the end, doing a trick shot to pour the drink from the shaker to the glass. It’s impressive.

“She never said anything about you owning the bar.” 

“Probably a weird thing to work into a conversation,” Eddie leans against the bar, sliding the drink across it, looking like he has all the time in the world to spend on Steve. The other bartenders move around him, filling orders from other patrons. But Eddie stays right there in front of him, ignoring everyone else.

“How have we never seen you in here before? We come here all the time.” Maybe he should dial it back with the twenty questions. Steve sounds a bit accusatory, but he’s curious about how he’s never caught wind of Eddie.

“I’m a bit of a recluse. Came into some money after my parents died, used it all on medical bills and bought this bar to employ all my friends when we couldn’t get out of this podunk town. Crowds and sweaty bodies make me break out in hives.” He shudders, glancing over Steve’s shoulder to the floor. “I stay in my office or work on inventory once the club starts to fill up. I’m only out here on lighter nights.”

Ah, that’s why they’ve never seen each other. Steve and Robin come in on the weekends, when the bodies are packed elbow to elbow on the dancefloor. He’s only here on a Wednesday because he felt sorry for himself. It’s a lighter crowd than he’s used to, easier to spot prying eyes and wandering hands between writhing bodies. And apparently the way to meet the owner.

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

[foxymoxynoona]

Hi Foxy! The drabble game is such a fun idea! Do you think you could write idol!jk with a fan? It could be him feeling attracted to her, or them hooking up, or maybe their first meeting... I really don't have any particular request, the stage is yours! I'm really curious about how you'd approach it because you have a talent for writing the cutest but also oddly realistic scenarios. I love you and happy anniversary!

I thought this would be a nice little fluffy tease for Valentine's Day to express my love back to you, I hope you enjoy it!

Characters: Idol Jungkook x Fan Y/N Words: 3k CW: none

You’re not surprised your friends bailed on you when the choice came up between Angel Tribute and Mavis McAdams, but you’re still disappointed. They knew the band –a deceptively named trio of three artists Mavis, Makena, and Adam– topped your list of favorite bands ever. But they were smaller than Angel Tribute, so when push came to shove, you were left on your own to see your favorite group. And you hated being alone. 

Especially right now, when you are positive that Jeon Jungkook of BTS is standing right in front of you.

You didn’t think anything of him at first. He was just another body in the space around you where you’ve found a little area for yourself, not up in the pit but a little further back where there’s breathing room. It wasn’t so crowded back here, and you liked the flexibility of being able to stand or sit; there was only one row of seats in front of you before a small aisle, which kept you from feeling too trapped. But you were still close to the front, close enough to feel a part of the music, and you’d been happily swaying and singing along under your breath to the first song when he slid into the space directly in front of you, joining the man who had already been there.

The man you were now convinced was a bodyguard. Or maybe a manager? An assistant? You didn’t actually know how those things worked. Before you recognized him, neither man meant anything to you except that now you were annoyed that your view was blocked. 

Just as you considered leaning forward and asking them to leave a little space for you to see through, the newly arrived man had looked to the side and– ok, you didn’t know which thing it was that had made you suspicious, but the combination of a few things had. The face mask and snapback hadn’t, there were plenty of people around these days in such attire, but the profile even with the mask had made you pause. The earrings in the ear –well, you were at a music festival, but regular guys didn’t usually have so many hoops. You wouldn’t even admit it on your deathbed but the freckle on the side of his neck made you start to suspect– and then the eyes. The eyes in the shadow between hat and mask had to be him, you were 98% sure of it. 

Instantly you abandoned your idea of suggesting they move. They didn’t need to move. For just this moment, you were perfectly ok with Jeon Jungkook of BTS blocking your view as you mulled over your options. You could obviously ask for an autograph, but the thought of doing so flooded you with embarrassment. You certainly wouldn’t ask for a picture, even worse, but taking a sneaky photo to keep as a memento just seemed so creepy and invasive. 

The other option, and the one that seemed best to you, was to pretend you did not know who he was and enjoy this moment of your life in which you were going to enjoy a Mavis McAdams concert staring at the back of Jungkook’s neck. He had a really nice neck. He must have had a haircut recently, the hairline was really neat. You missed the long hair but it seemed to grow quickly for him and he’d gone that route multiple times so probably it would be long again soon. It was good you weren’t seeing it long. That would be too much for you to stay chill about.

A new song started, an old favorite of yours, and you sang quietly along –much more quietly than you had a moment ago since the voice of a generation was standing in front of you. But it must have been loud enough to embarrassingly draw attention, or maybe it was the dance moves you couldn’t quite help because you just really loved this song. Your eyes were closed, you didn’t think you’d accidentally hit him, but when you opened your eyes you realized he was looking over his shoulder.

At you.

You bit back the squeak of surprise and tried to just casually lean around him to see the band, as if you didn’t notice him at all.

“You can’t see.” 

Of course you didn’t assume he was talking to you, but when he said it again with a sort of flapping hand gesture in your direction, you realized he really was addressing you.

“Uh… well… no…”

He laughed and nudged the bodyguard, saying something rapidly in Korean that you couldn’t hope to follow with your handful of phrases. The bodyguard nodded and shifted over, leaving a clear space for you to see through.

“Oh, thank you.” You gave an awkward bow before regretting it; it felt like you’d just admitted you knew who he was and were familiar with Korean culture just because of liking K-pop and k-dramas. Which was the truth but god, embarrassing.

Jungkook and the bodyguard nodded and the next song starting grabbed their attention away from you.

It was definitely more enjoyable to actually be able to see the performance and you marveled at his thoughtfulness for even noticing. Even when more people packed into the seats, the bodyguard kept the space in between them clear for you. It was a little annoying though because while you were happy standing and dancing, the people around you were dancing a little more wildly and kept bumping into you, disrupting your enjoyment. You tried to ignore it but a particular hard jab in your back made your voice hitch as you were singing.

Jungkook glanced back at you, chin tilted up to see you under the brim of his hat. He beckoned with his hand like it was a rush and pointed down at the seat in between him and Bodyguard.

What the fuck.

In no world would you refuse to take him up on that though. With a mixture of relief and abject terror, you stepped over the back of the seat, flattered when the bodyguard held a hand up to steady you as if you were one of his charges. He asked Jungkook something that was dismissed with a shake of the head. Maybe an offer to switch seats? Jungkook didn’t think it was necessary? You didn’t care if you projected that all over them. 

It was like fireworks going off in your head as you tried to play it cool and focus your enthusiasm on the music. There was more space to move here without bumping or getting bumped. Jungkook was vibing too, swaying and grinning, sometimes singing along. You tried not to look at him and be awkward but occasionally you’d feel his grin and glance at him. The eye contact made you both laugh. The singing together, the dancing, you were at this concert with him. The craziness of it didn’t quite fade away but it shifted into something more joyful and less shy. He wasn’t an idol right now, he was just another fan, and meeting someone else who knew all the lyrics to the B-sides was really exciting as a music lover.

“You like this song? You know it!” he beamed, like he was impressed by your knowledge, like he was thinking all the same things right now.

“I can’t sing well, sorry, don’t listen to me!”

“No, it’s good. You are good. It’s very cool.”

You didn’t think your singing was good nor cool, especially not to someone who sang like Jungkook, but it was kind of him to say so. It made you feel less self conscious about relaxing and enjoying yourself. Why not? Ok, your singing was fine, and it was all in good fun because you were just enjoying the music, just like he was. It wasn’t worth being nervous over.

The songs played out and before you knew it, they were announcing their last song. You couldn’t help the groan of disappointment.

“Are they your favorite band?” Jungkook asked you. “I like them so much.”

“They’re definitely one of them. I’ve seen them twice before but never at a festival like this. The first time was in this really small venue, it felt so intimate.” You broke off, realizing you were rambling, but how could you not?

“I love them too. I saw them one time. They opened for…” You couldn’t hear who he said over the surge of music and the crowd but nodded anyway. A fan. He was a fan and it was really cool to know that about him, for him to share that love with him.

Halfway through the song, he leaned around you to say something to the bodyguard, then pulled his mask up. You could tell instantly by his body language he was leaving, probably before the band finished and the crowd around you looked somewhere other than the stage. He might get swarmed. You understood but hated for everything to be wrapping up already.

You certainly didn’t expect him to nudge your arm and lean down to say, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Huh, what?”

He lifted his chin again to look at you and his eyes were sparkling and ok look, you weren’t going to tell him no. So you pulled your bag onto your shoulder and shoved your water bottle inside, checked your pocket for your phone, and followed Jungkook and his bodyguard.

Obviously you had no idea where you were going so you stuck close, fully expecting the bodyguard to shove you away at any second. Or someone else to materialize and do it, a manager or something. But no one did, and that’s how you wound up following Jeon Jungkook to the backstage area. The guards at the security checkpoint waved him through and you as well when Jungkook said,

“She’s with me, bro.”

God I wish.

He paused to look around and spoke with the bodyguard for a moment before leading the way to a tent behind the stage McMavis had just performed on. You could hear the crowd cheering for the encore as you followed but as much as you regretted missing it, you wouldn’t have missed this for the world. You looked around in surprise, recognizing a few other VIPs, but you didn’t want to get left behind and unceremoniously kicked out.

The bodyguard grabbed two waters from a cooler and handed them to you each and your Korean gamsahamnida made them both grin.

“You speak Korean?”

“No no, that’s all I know,” you quickly said.

“I will say ‘she is my translator.’”

“Your English is really good. You don’t need one, huh?”

He tugged his mask down so you could see his grin as he laughed, “Ok, thank you. It’s not very good but thank you.”

“I think it is.”

The bodyguard got his attention and you both looked over to see McMavis moving towards a tent further aware, bouncing around and amped from their show.

“Ah, ok. It is embarrassing if they say no,” he told you before setting off after them. Say no to what?

There wasn’t long to wait to find out. They’d just collapsed on the couches in their tent as a stage manager told them they had twenty minutes to decompress until their fan-meeting event; you could see and hear them through the gauzy curtains as Jungkook’s bodyguard said something to the woman by the entrance.

“Yes!” Mavis shouted. “I heard that! BTS? Someone from BTS is here?”

Jungkook gave you a nervous smile like he was nervous about meeting them. You just followed dumbly along as he ducked into the tent, nodding and bowing as Mavis, Makena, and Adam all jumped to their feet to greet him.

“She is my translator,” he said without forgetting you. “Also a fan. Me too. Your show is so great.”

“Yes it was really wonderful. You’re amazing live,” you gushed. Secretly praying no one was about to ask you to translate anything. Oh god. Would Jungkook play along if you had to speak fake Korean to him? Would you just give it up and confess? You thought he wasn’t capable of lying so why was he lying right now?! What the hell??

No one cared, clearly. They were too busy gushing over Jungkook, the artists all trading praise, talking about other acts at the festival. You felt simultaneously like a third wheel and perfectly at ease, because despite your expectations, no one was actually shooting out god-rays right now. If you didn’t know how talented and famous these people were, they were just people raving about music they liked, enjoying a beautiful day at a music festival. How could this seem so normal and so surreal at the same time?

Probably because he’d marked you as a translator you were mostly ignored, which was fine by you, but occasionally Jungkook would gesture to you as if prompting you to say something and include yourself. You mentioned the other shows you’d been to. You answered what your favorite song was and flustered when Jungkook nodded, “Me too. It’s mine too.” 

All too soon, their manager was telling them they needed to get to their fan meeting. You leapt out of the way as the band members and Jungkook assembled for a photo without any prompting, like it was just something they were familiar with. You almost offered to take it but an assistant and Jungkook’s bodyguard had it covered.

Jungkook reached forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the frame after they’d already taken a couple. You had half a second to wonder oh no am I going to get doxxed on the internet if these photos make it online before deciding you didn’t give a shit. That wasn’t real right now. What was real was that Jungkook had been thoughtful enough to include you.

Belatedly you realized you hadn’t taken one with your own phone but the band was already saying goodbye, their manager ushering them away. They hadn’t even really taken their break and there were other people lingering outside the tent trying to get their attention but it was obvious to you they had spent their time exactly how they wanted to. ARMY were everywhere, after all.

You, Jungkook, and the bodyguard moved out of the tent and you realized awkwardly you didn’t know what to do now. The obvious thing was to go but it’s not like you wanted to go.

“I have to go,” Jungkook said, looking at something on his phone. He thrust it towards you and you were confused enough to take it from him. He had it open to the New Message screen, cursor blinking in the “To:” field.

“I will send the picture.”

“Oh! Right.” Yes, of course, obviously that made sense. You typed your number in and handed it back. 

“Ok, goodbye. I have to go but just wait, ok? I will send it.”

“Yeah, of course. Sure. And oh my god, thank you for bringing me back here and um, enjoy the rest of the festival!”

He was laughing and you didn’t quite know why but he smiled and nodded and pressed his hands together, “Yes. Thank you. Have fun too. Talk back to me.”

You nodded. He was gone so fast, bodyguard closing behind him as he set off. He did look like he had somewhere to be. You did not and your mind was blown about this whole thing. You were too flustered to even think about the fact you were unsupervised in the VIP backstage section right now. 

Paranoid you were going to get kicked out since you didn’t have a lanyard anyway, you walked quickly out of security and didn’t stop until you’d found a place you could step out of the way and guzzle the water bottle. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to text your friends, or at least see if they’d texted you.

You did have messages, but not from your deadbeat friends. Already! You already had a message!

[unknown]: what is your name?

[y/n]: y/n

[JJK]: ok 

[JJK]: [group photo]

[JJk]: thank you for hanging out

[y/n]: no thank you for taking me backstage with you! It was a dream come true to meet them. that was really thoughtful and cool of you even just to make sure I could see

[JJK]: the view is important at a concert so we both had a better view

You froze. You stared. 

No. Was he… flirting?!!? Impossible. You must be misunderstanding. You had to be misunderstanding!

[y/n]: It was perfect

[y/n]: thank you for trusting me enough to message me the photo but also shouldn’t you not trust people you just met???

[JJK]: why not

[JJK]: my name is JK you can put it in your phone

Lord have mercy. 

[JJK]: I do not give my phone number but it is nice to meet you so I did

[y/n]: Nice to meet you too JK thanks for hanging out

[your friend]: hey where are you? McMavis done? You ready to meet up?

You hesitated. Your original excitement to tell them about meeting Jungkook was still bubbling, but in light of the fact he had given you his phone number and was flirting you decided maybe you wouldn’t share that part of your day with them. Not yet anyway. 

You told your friends where you’d meet them and looked at your phone again.

[JJK]: what bands do you like? Suggest music to me

[y/n]: ok you too

[y/n]: have you heard of…

Your stomach bubbled with anticipation as you went to meet your friends. Maybe this would be nothing. He’d stop texting you suddenly and that would be that. He’d get a new phone and lose your number. He’d text you for the rest of the festival but then block you and move on. You had zero expectations he would keep talking to you. Why would he?

But you hadn’t expected to see him. Or to sing and dance with him. Or to meet McMavis with him. Definitely not for him to take a photo with you –which you now had!-- and allow you access to his phone number. That gesture of faith meant so much to you. You wouldn’t disappoint him. 

You held your phone with your secret close to your chest and went to meet your friends. 

[vidavbooks]

The Calls - Euronymous x Reader

Story Masterlist

WARNING: This is based of Rory Culkins character of him

Last part, Next Part

————————————————————

Ever since the party Celia has been urging me to call him “Just do it!” She says over and over again. But it’s been months since then, “Celia the paper said months ago the lead singer killed himself he definitely does not have the time or energy for me at all and who knows the number probably doesn’t even work!”

She pushed herself off my bed and grinned at me. “Why are you giving me that look?” She smiled a little more “Because he opened a record shop close by and I may have stopped by to get the new number…and maybe talked about you…”

“You did what now?!?” I shot up from my bed and looked at her intensely. “Whatever be grateful you will be thanking me, numbers on your desk and I’m going out on my date bye!” Just like that the door slammed shut and it was just me and that paper on my desk.

I sighed and got up to grab the paper. I stared at the paper recognizing his handwriting from the night I met him. I slowly grabbed the phone and typed in the numbers taking a deep breath before hitting the call button. It rang and when I heard the ringing stop my heart did too.

“Helvet record shop.” It was that voice I knew. “Hello? If it’s one of you little shit prank callers satan will be under your bed toni-” “Hi…” There was a pause. “Who is this?” I took a breath “It’s Astrid, I met you the night of that one party out in Kråkstad.”

I hear him whisper off to someone to shut up. “You finally called huh? Took you long enough.” I sat on my bed and smiled a little, there’s the sarcasm. “Yeah well I heard about your band mate and I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bother so..I’m sorry about him by the way.”

“Oh..I mean yeah no it’s fine.” The silence filled the call. “How have you been? I heard you opened a record store.” I was messing with the phone wire to try and continue conversation. “I did, you should come down here sometime you know? There’s a cave thing under the store where we throw parties.”

My smile grew a little bigger as I nodded to myself. “I would like that, I can bring Celia and some other friends of hers.” There was a faint sound of metal music playing in the back from his store. I remember the song from the night I met him, when we were in his room drinking and listening to his band.

“That could work, how about tomorrow? Store closes at 9 so around 10ish?” “That works for me I’ll talk to Celia when she’s home and I won’t forget to bring some drinks.” I heard his chuckle and could hear the smile. “Okay then see you.” “See you.” The line disconnected.

My door barged open and Celia was smiling. My instant thought was right “So party tomorrow?” She said with a grin. “Stop listening to my calls!”

————————————————————

Authors Note: AHHH part 2 guysss I genuinely love writing this Im invested my own lore and I act so surprised as if I’m not the one writing it ANYWAYSSS see you in the next part🖤

[scrunkalicious]

BDAY ONESHOOOOT IS REAAAALLLL

WORK COUNT 1677 YAAAAYYY YAAAAYYYY

I did not proofread but shshshshss

The first of April was a treacherous day for most. People planning extensive pranks, while doing all they can to avoid the fruitful efforts of others pursuing them with pranks of their own. Laughter can be heard throughout Piltover as people fall for usually harmless traps, before their friends jump out and yell “April Fools!”. April first, a day filled with hoaxes and practical jokes. 

With this, most people don’t think much about the day after April first. April second, what’s so special about that day? And in truth, to most there isn’t much waiting for them. It’s just another day in the month of April, right?

Yet, when Marly awoke from her bed, her eyes went wide from realization. Quickly putting her glasses on, she grinned. Today was a special day for her. The second of April was her birthday! Stumbling out of bed, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her hair. As the academy was on spring break, Marly didn’t seem to have a reason to change out of her pajamas, and she smiled at the thought. She ran her fingers through her hair, looking at herself in the mirror as she felt like today would be a good one. 

Marly placed her brush back into the small drawer, and as she closed it, the sound of something metal clanking to the floor was heard in the main room of her dorm. Marly blinked, and slowly opened the bathroom door, then she left her bedroom. As she entered the main part of her dorm, her eyes went wide with what she saw. 

The entirety of the main area of her dorm was adorned with brightly colored decorations, and vivid balloons. The words “Happy Birthday!!!” were scrawled out on paper that was taped up on the side of Marly’s small kitchen table. There was even a cake on the table, one that looked strangely familiar. 

Next to the table, Marly spotted Viktor. He had one hand on the table as he was reaching down to his cane, which lay on the floor, the sure cause of the clanking earlier. She stared at him for a moment, before speaking up. 

“Viktor? What are you doing here?” She asked, smiling softly. Viktor quickly straightened himself from his bent over position, a wide smile crossing his face when he saw her. 

“Marly! Happy birthday, my dear!” Viktor exclaimed, grabbing something off the table as he walked over to her. When he finally reached her, he steadied himself before placing a colorful birthday hat onto her head, gently slipping the elastic band around her chin. Marly paused as she adjusted to the new feeling of the hat on her, before she smiled back at him. Viktor held back a laugh as he looked at her. She appeared quite silly, standing there in her pajamas, with a bright cone hat on her head, which was topped with short sparkly ribbons. He loved her dearly for that, and smiled knowing how much she would love his surprise.

“You’ve done all this?” She asked, looking around the room as Viktor nodded his head. He placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning against her, as he cane still lay on the ground.

“Of course I have! It is your birthday, so we shall celebrate,” he told her. 

“Thank you!” Marly smiled widely, looking up at him to reach her hands towards him, cupping Viktor’s face in her hands as she pressed a kiss to his nose. She still held his face as she pulled back, squishing his cheeks softly, “You’re so sweet,” She murmured, before letting him go. 

Viktor gave her a loopy grin as he watched her get his cane, taking it gratefully as Marly turned to look at the cake on the table, tilting her head. 

“Do you recognize it?” He asked, keeping the grin on his face as he waited. 

Marly nodded her head, looking up at him, “Of course I recognize it! It’s the tuxedo cake my family would always eat,” She tilted her head, “How did you even manage to get it? I’ve never seen them around Piltover,” She told him, her eyes lighting up as she spoke, clearly getting excited to see something so familiar from when she was younger. 

Viktor smiled at her giddiness, before explaining, “Well, Professor Heimerdinger had me running some tasks for him on the outskirts of town,” he started, “Apparently the person I was helping out was a good cook, as they started offering me pastries for my service. So, I asked them about the tuxedo cake you always mentioned, and turns out they used to work in a place that would make them. I offered to work some extra in exchange for a cake,” He looked proud of himself, and Marly smiled widely at him.

“You did extra work, just to get a cake for me?” Marly asked, tiling her head as she smiled softly. She was usually the one doing things for other people. With Viktor in her life, Marly was getting introduced to the idea that she shouldn’t be the only one doing things in a relationship. 

Viktor nodded his head, to see that smile of hers had made all the work worth it. 

“Yes, I did. Why wouldn’t I?” He smirked, knowing full well that he would do that for any occasion. 

“I’m unsure,” Marly murmured, thinking for a moment, before waving her hands “You must try the cake!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air as she grabbed his arm, gently sitting him down at the small kitchen table. Viktor chuckled softly as Marly grabbed a knife to cut the cake. A plastic one, because neither of them trusted her with a real one. She also grabbed plates for them, along with utensils. She sat next to Viktor, before slowly pulling the cake over to her. 

Her attempts in cutting the cake are generally successful, and the two end up with a lopsided slice of their own. Marly grins sheepishly as she hands Viktor his plate, and he smiles at this. For someone usually so precise with her work, Marly can’t seem to make a straight cut in a cake. It’s honestly endearing to him, so he takes the plate and his utensils. Marly watches him take a bite out of the cake, clearly excited to see how he would react. 

Viktor furrowed his brow for a moment, before smiling at Marly. He nodded his head, before clearing his throat. “It's really good,” He told her approvingly, “I can see why your family would alway purchase this specific cake,” he added, going in to eat some more. Marly smiled widely, clapping her hands once before eating her slice of the cake herself. The two ate in silence, with Viktor engrossed in the new delicacy, and Marly too happy to form proper words at the moment. 

When they both finished their current slice, Marly sat back, smiling at him. Viktor smiled back, before quickly standing up. Marly watched as he walked over to her mini-fridge, before opening it. He pulled out a small box, and Marly tilted her head as he came back to sit next to her. 

“Why’d you keep that in the fridge?” She asked, laughing quite a bit. 

Viktor grinned at her, “Because I’m aware you would have been curious if I left a box on the same table with a cake and decorations,” He explained, setting it down in front of her. He nudged her softly, wanting to see her open it. 

Marly smiled widely, before taking the box in her hands. She slowly opened it, making sure not to rip any of the packaging. The box was wrapped in a colorful wrapping, and the actual box was similar to a small wooden chest. When she finally opened the latch, two things were visible. Marly grabbed the first thing, a small set of art supplies, practically a mini version of what she already has. 

“You carry around so many things, and either you or your bag is going to break with all the strain, so this is the least I could do to help,” Viktor explained, smiling softly at her, “Now go on with the other item,” he prompted. 

As Marly gently took the second item into her hands, she slowly unraveled the cloth that covered it. Doing this revealed it was a metal model of a small lamb. It was carefully carved, its metal molded together to fit perfectly. Turning it side to side, Marly noticed how there were little shaped holes in it’s back. She looked up at Viktor, tilting her head, “What are these for?” She asked softly. 

Viktor scooted closer to her, reaching his hand out to gently brush one of the lamb’s ears, which went down like a switch. As this happened, light was produced from the lamb’s core, and shined through the little holes. While Marly held the lamb, Viktor hovered his hand over the model, revealing that in a dark lit room, it would depict a replication of the night sky’s stars. Marly looked in wonderment as she saw the display on Viktor’s hand. She soon looked up at him as he moved his hand, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

“It’s lovely, darling,” She whispered, carefully setting the lamb down on the kitchen table, a crooked grin on her face. Viktor grinned back at her, grabbing her hands and squeezing them. He had taken multiple metalwork classes to perfect this. While the inventor had worked on many projects before, he had never tapped into his artistic side of creating as much as he had now. 

“Not as lovely as you,” He teased, to which she giggled softly. Marly was so happy with him, as she certainly wasn’t expecting this surprise from him. 

“I’m very glad I get to spend this with you, y’know?” She whispered, smiling sheepishly. It was true, as Marly couldn’t imagine a better way to spend her birthday. A day between her and someone she loved deeply.

this is my fave image of him ever ANYEAYZZZ TAGLIST PPL UNDER CUT ILYASM

@sapphicseal @kiawren @h0t-p1nk-ch33tah-pr1nt @l0v3sickl0s3r @mrsmunson1986 @mirr0r-image i think thatz it ask to be added removooed

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

And once again, a day at Family Video:

"So? How did it go this time?"

"Oh yeah, I've totally got a date."

"Do you really, though?"

Steve sighs. Sometimes knowing each other inside out is more of a curse than a blessing.

"That's what I thought. Get the You-Suck-Board out of the back"

"Sure thing Your Majesty"

"Excuse me? If anything I would be elected by the people, King Steve"

Whenever she hears anyone else say one of his old shameful nicknames at school, she will make sure to "accidentally" hit them very hard in the face during football practice. Or PE. Or sometimes just in the hallway, if they have no classes that overlap. Or the balls, if he is a real buttface. "With my luck I would rearrange his features into something less hideous" is her justification when Steve winces in second-hand sympathy. He truly adores her with everything he has.

Whenever he hears someone else use "dyke" or "fairy" or "queer" as an insult, he will glare at them so hard they never dare wear their current outfit again. Ever. If there is one thing years of being a jackass taught him, it is to give the most judgmental stare you can imagine.

They are also not above inventing a bullshit excuse to demand extra fees if it happens in the shop. He and Robin consider it compensation for having to listen to such bullshit with their own two poor queer little ears. Somehow Keith hasn't caught up yet.

Steve sighs. Again. It is truly impressive how much of an effect Robin can have on him without even physically being there.

" Alright-y, Dyke-y."

But Steve isn't anyone else, and neither is Robin. They are Steve and Robin and they are soulmates. It is almost like exposure therapy, in a way. Hearing it so often from someone they know will never really mean it takes away some of the sting when others use it maliciously. Steve didn't even have the designated-self-loathing-hour that normally follows the last time Mike sneered one of his old nicknames at him. (Didn't stop Robin from "accidentally" spilling her milkshake on him later. Steve only felt a little bit bad for laughing.)

"I can still hear you breathing on the phone. Dingus."

"So sorry. I was just waxing poetry about how meaningful our friendship-"

"Well I am about to start waxing poetry about what a loser you are. Loser."

Steve gives her a middle-finger she cannot see but is satisfactory either way, and places the phone back on the table. For a second he considers hanging up for a few moments if only to save a few cents. But it isn't he who is going to have to pay the phonebill and the job sucks anyway, so he doesn't. That's what Keith gets for his blatant favoritism.

He goes back to the phone after giving himself a point in the Gay-Jokes-Board. If she truly wanted him to play fair, she should've come to work instead of blowing him off because of "sickness" or some bullshit. Karma, bitch.

Another customer enters. He takes a short look at the door and braces himself. To be honest, flirting with girls isn't nearly as fun without Robin's silent running commentary. By now he doesn't even expect a second date, he does it mostly to have something to do while everyone he knows is at school. But he knows that Robin truly is at home feeling miserable right now (she even skipped band practice yesterday. And nothing comes between Robin and band practice), so when he sees the flowing dress entering through the door he is already mentally preparing himself for another conversation that will make him cringe at 2 AM and steal his sleep for the next week. The things he does for Robin.

He is not above admitting how he visibly deflates when he recognizes the bright red hair entering through the door. Thank God.

"Hey Dorothy!"

"VICKIE IS THERE?! FUCK"

Steve laughs at her outrage. By now he does actually know her name (hard not to, with how often she coincidentally comes to browse the store whenever Robin has a shift), but he has called her "Friend of Dorothy" so much that it has stuck. He is just very bad with names, okay?! Besides, in his humble and correct opinion, Dorothy is simply the superior name. It suits her way better. One day he will be able to convince Vickie of his correct opinion, and when that day comes, he will be ready to immortalize the moment she tells Robin with his camera.

Vicky comes towards the counter and Steve makes the executive decision that torturing Robin is more important than costing Family Video money. Robin realizes what he is about to do, but her cries of protest only encourage him further. Will he pay for that? Probably. Is it still worth it? Abso-fucking-lutely. The click when he hangs up sounds like music to his ears.

He smirks when he sees how her eyes immediately search out something behind him. When she sees his expression, her cheeks flush as bright as her hair. Every time that happens he has to think about Robin's hour-long monologue about how adorable Vickie looks when she blushes. He realizes that for once there isn't anyone here to stop him from saying that. He may not be good at mantaining relationships, but no one can deny that he is an expert at getting a date. And if Robin refuses to make a move? Well, he always has wanted to play matchmaker.

He leans forward and gives her his most charming smile. "So...do you come here often?"

She blinks at him. "Are you...flirting with me?!?!"

"Pretend that I'm Robin, alright?" He brushes one of her red locks behind her ear.

"Jesus Christ"

"Superstar. So, when are you free? Lucky for you, I have Robin's entire schedule memorized."

They stare at each other for a time, at an impasse. And then-

"LISTEN TO THAT HOWLING MOB OF BLOCKHEADS IN THE STREET-!"

(Steve vaguely notes that they scare a few potential customers away with their musical numbers. (Yes. Plural. Obviously.) To say that Vickie isn't a great singer is a bit of an understatement. He thinks it is only fair, considering he already saved Family Video's phone bill by hanging up on Robin. ROBIN. If they wanted him to care they should pay him better.)

It is only once they have gone through the entire "Jesus Christ Superstar" Discography and Vickie is already stepping into her car that he realizes he never actually arranged the Robin and Vickie date. Rockie date? Wait......

He basically throws himself onto the the phone

"ROBIN!"

A very confused Mrs. Buckley calls for her daughter. Steve is practically vibrating on his feet.

"ROBIN! IF YOU COMBINE YOUR AND VICKIES NAME TOGETHER YOU GET ROCKIE!!!!"

"OH MY GOD, LIKE IN THE ICONIC AND VERY QUEER ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW?!"

"I TOLD YOU THAT SHE'S INTO YOU BITCH!"

btw. people. please tell me your Vickie headcanons. <3

Hey look the WIP game actually works lol

-> tramp-stamp

-> gatekeeping 101

-> anti-heteronormativity

-> jancy appreciation hours

[countrymusiclover]

36 - Evening in the French Quarter

Part 37

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality

Strolling through the busy streets with my brother being in this city again. Everything felt different from the last time we were here. My hair was getting blown everywhere with me and Jacob holding the other hand. “I can’t believe that I am actually here. I came back from the dead and know I am here.” 

“Well it’s a lot to take in at first. And here’s a tip from my first experience. Don’t use magic here. Witches aren’t allowed to do magic.” I warned him glancing up at my twin since he was slightly taller than me. 

There was some band playing on the corner street that we passed until we entered a bar. I noticed that there was a blonde bartender smiling in our direction so I walked over to her. “I recognize you. You came in here with the hundred dollar bill guy. I’m Cami.” 

“Raelyn and this is my twin brother Jacob.” I grabbed his shoulder, dropping our hands where he waved to her. 

She dropped her smile a little. “Oh that’s great. I used to have a twin but I lost him.” 

“I’m sorry. We recently lost each other too.” I responded back struggling through tears knowing that losing a sibling was hard. 

She flipped her hair over her shoulders wiping away some tears handing us a drink menu. “It’s alright. Now I unfortunately don’t have anymore Gumbo. But I have been told I am a good bartender. So what can I get you?” 

“Two Margaritas.” Jacob said handing her some money and paying her a good tip for when we left. 

Downing the shot I clicked my tongue dragging him outside until we rounded the corner coming face to face with Hayley who immediately embraced Jacob grinning. “Jacob, hey I was hoping to find you.” 

“Yeah sorry. I got caught up with my sister.” He hugged her back squeezing her shoulders staring back at me. “Uh this is my sister Raelyn. Raelyn, this is Hayley.” 

Raising my hand I waved to her. “We’ve met. But what I don’t understand is why she’s looking for you exactly?” 

“Well the easiest explanation is…” Jacob trailed off intertwining his hand with hers smiling weakly at me giving me the answer that I was searching for. “We might have gotten close the night you told me to go to the Grill.” 

Crossing my arms over my chest I smiled bending my head down not believing that he had picked up a girl that fast. I mean he was always a people person but I didn’t think he would be that fast. “Wow. Jacob I don’t know what to say. I mean of course I am happy for you. But at the same time I thought my relationship with Nik went super fast and now here I am pregnant.” 

“I hope it isn’t too weird.” He mumbled before I pulled him in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around me slightly, pulling away from the embrace. “But now that you know, maybe you can help us out with something.” 

Shifting my gaze over to the brunette girl I questioned softly. “And what exactly do you need my help with?” 

“I’m looking for my family. Someone told me that they used to live in this city. Jacob said that you are always willing to help a friend out.” She explains giving me a look from her soft brown eyes looking at me. 

Clicking my tongue I shoved my hands in the red leather jacket I was wearing I nodded. “Sure. Do you know their last name?” 

“Mine is Marshall.” She said, 

Opening my hands for her to take, I eyed her where she placed her hands in mine. “I can’t do magic right now. But I can track pretty well. Let's start in the Quarter and work our way from there.” It was nightfall by the time we had been through most of the city and no one seemed to recognize who her family was. Hayley sat down on a bench with Jacob while I leaned against the back of it hearing someone coming up on us. 

“Werewolves aren’t allowed here.” Someone came through the night showing their fangs meaning a vampire. 

Jacob got to his feet seeing two more appear behind him. “Raelyn..” 

“You’re coming with me, wolf.” The main vampire threatens Hayley. 

Hayley growls shoving the one in front of me. “I have had it up to here with vampires telling me what to do.” 

Turning around on my feet I turned my hands into fists ready to fight until I saw a blonde streak of hair vamp behind the other vamps watching us. One of the vamps had their neck snapped and the other lost his heart. “Now that is no way to treat a pregnant lady. I do hate bad manners.” I smiled seeing it was Rebekah who dropped the heart in her hands. 

It was a few moments later where the three of us were now standing outside the house that Nik had gotten when we came back here. There was a pile of dead bodies in front of us. Nik glared at me and my twin brother. “Werewolves are banned in the Quarter. What exactly made you think it was a good idea to stroll through with one?” 

“I didn't know she was a wolf, Nik. She asked for mine and Jacob’s help and I offered.” I snapped back at him before he went on blaming me. 

He rolled his eyes seeing Rebekah starting to walk towards one of the bodies that was still alive. “I had a plan, and your little nighttime stroll put it all in peril! Leave him! You've done enough, don't you think? Leaving a trail of bodies like a road map to my door?” 

“If I hadn't overheard this lot bragging about werewolf heads, everyone here would be screwed. And don't give me that crap about having a plan. You've had all the time in the world to execute a plan, and no one's seen you do a damn thing! Elijah made a deal to protect your child, so that it could save you from your selfish, rotten self. But you obviously don't give a damn about the child or Elijah, because what have you done to honor it?” Rebekah raised her tone towards her bastard brother, throwing her hands up in the air and away from her sides. 

Jacob enters the conversation standing beside me with Hayley on his other side. “Listen Klaus, it was my fault. I didn’t tell her because I didn’t think it would be a good idea to make her worry about her safety. So I didn’t say anything.” 

“Oh don’t worry, you are to blame for endangering the life of the woman I love…as for my plan.” Klaus raised his voice towards him. “I have done everything. Let me spell it out for you, shall I? From the day I arrived, Marcel hasn't trusted me. From Day One, he's had his vampires ingest toxic vervain which, as you know, little sister, protects them from my mind control. I needed a spy, someone on the inside with me who Marcel would never suspect. So, I created a Day Zero and got there first. Marcel had just lost six vampires, thanks to your little murder spree, and he needed new recruits. So, I made the new one mine, before he'd had even a drop of vervain. But we all know the real way to a man is through his heart.” 

“So what exactly am I supposed to do then while you are running around the Quarter?” I stomped up to him resting my hands on my larger stomach. It had been three months since we had left Mystic Falls meaning that it wouldn’t be long before the babies due date. “Or am I supposed to remain inside this house like a prison similar to the Gilbert living room.” 

He drifted his gaze down to mine, sighing heavily. “I’ll talk with you later, Rae. Just know you aren’t a prisoner just because you are carrying my children inside you.” 

“Then what exactly is the next step of your master plan hmm?” I asked him raising myself up on my toes for a brief moment until my feet got tired. 

Nik grabs the vampire that's still alive from the pile dragging him up towards the house where the four of us follow his heels. “And this one – I'm gonna drain him of vervain, compel him to believe his mates found religion and moved to Utah, so that he can explain to Marcel why he lost three more vampires tonight.” 

“Can I ask if it is okay if I stay here tonight?” Hayley asked, staying beside the closed front door nervous that he was about to throw her out. 

Jacob spun around on his feet instantly not waiting for Klaus to answer. “Yes, of course.” He leads her towards the staircase leaving the three of us alone in the main entrance of the room. 

“I’ll give you two some time alone. It’s been a long day.” Rebekah said vamping out of the room not wanting to have a longer conversation with her brother tonight. 

Once she was gone Nik vamped in front of me gently grabbing my face in his hands cradling my gaze to meet his gaze. “Are you alright, Rae. The babies..did they?” 

“No, no, I’m fine. Rebekah found us before anything happened. We’re perfectly fine.” I reassured him, moving my hands up to grip his forearms gently, needing him to not worry so much about me all the time. 

He slumped his shoulders pulling me in for a hug gently wrapping one arm around my waist. His other hand ran through my loose hair. Wrapping my arms around his neck I laid my head against his heart. “I didn’t mean to snap at your brother. I just wanted to keep you safe.” 

“He understands that, Nik….oh.” Drawing my head back I dropped a hand to my stomach feeling something kicking against my belly. 

Nik instantly went into panic mode. “What's wrong, Raelyn?” 

“Nothing…they’re kicking. Here, here feel.” I chuckled, taking one of his hands and putting it over my stomach. I watched a smile grace his face when a few seconds later he felt three different kicks against his hand. We could both hear the three heartbeats but this was something much different. 

He smiled leaning forward kissing my forehead with a reply. "They certainly are strong ones. Just like their mother..Hey Rae, are you feeling alright, you're trembling?" 

I hadn’t realized that I was shaking until he squeezed a hand on my shoulder where I snuggle into his warmth mumbling under my breath feeling the babies taking the strength from me. "Ug…the babies…siphoning magic again.." I attempted to remain standing on my own two feet but that wasn't the case when my knees buckled underneath me. 

"Raelyn, woah now…I'm here. I've got you." He quickly vamped me up bridal style into his arms carrying me to our room in the house laying me down on the pillows. He ram his fingers through my hair seeing my eyes beginning to close where he got to his feet. 

Weakly managing to grab his wrist I stopped him from leaving. "Stay with me, please Nik." 

"I'm right here, love." He mumbled ditching his shirt and wrapping his arms around my waist. Laying my head on his chest I wrapped my arms around his neck snuggling closer into his warmth and comfortable embrace dosing off. 

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[natty1730]

Chapter 5: Me Gustas Tu

“I know our house isn't as fancy as yours or anything, but I'm glad to call it home!" Heavy said with a closed eyed happy smile. As Daisy was walking with the two brothers, Dee couldn't help but ask a question to Heavy's comment. "Fancy? What does Heavy mean by fancy?" He asked, glancing at Daisy 's face which held a considerable amount of makeup on her left side. "Oh it's nothing- '' But before the girl could finish, Heavy cut her off. Yeah! She lives on the other side of the park

where the music conservatory is in that rich neighborhood!" Dee looked generally surprised, as to which Daisy just nervously chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. The three both walked up to the pathway of the house, and Daisy couldn't help but realize how fitting the house was for Dee. Dark wood, no flowers, a skull at the very top of the house, it really did fit him perfectly. Daisy couldn't help but compliment the house as she stepped inside, "Your house is super cool Dee!" The boy sharply turned away from her to hide a bit of red that adorned his cheeks, and placed his key ring on a holder with the words 'Metal Family' on it."Thanks, Heavy lost the family poker game on Monday, so it was his turn to clean the house." "And I did a great job! I mean not a spec of dirt is anywhere!" Dee just sighed and pointed down at Heavy's feet, "You just tracked in mud." The boy looked down and cursed, taking off his shoes and running off to grab cleaning supplies. "We can work in my room if you want?" Dee asked, noticing the confused look she had on while looking at a family picture on the wall. Oh that's just a family picture of us." He pointed to where Daisy was staring at intensely, "That's my dad, and yes he normally looks like that." He said, thinking Daisy was confused at the man's appearance. "Does your dad travel a lot?" She asked finally looking at Dee and taking notice of the resemblance. "Well sometimes. He just went to Brazil . last month, why do you ask?" She just shrugged and smiled. "Oh no reason, I just thought he looked familiar, that's all." That's a lie. Daisy recognized him from the guy on the plane, and the guy who she shook hands with on the street on her second day in Russia. She knew they traded names, but she couldn't remember what his name was. 'It'll be best to avoid meeting him I guess.' She thought while walking with Dee to his room. They both walked into his room and Daisy studied it for a second, before spotting an old beat up guitar in the corner. "Oh a guitar! Do you play?" Daisy asked, setting down her backpack on his bed and walking around his room looking at his posters. "I'm working on it I suppose." Dee said, trying not to remember the conversation with his father about that very same guitar. "A long time ago I used to play guitar in a band with my friends. We actually got sort of well known in some places, but it ended pretty fast." She said, turning around to glance at the guitar with a nostalgic glint in her eyes. "You can play guitar?" Dee asked, trying to bury his feeling of jealousy. She just hummed in reply before taking out her journal and plopping onto his bed. "Can you play anything else?" He said while he sat on his bed with her. Daisy internally cringed a little, wishing that she didn't play anything else. "Yeah, piano and violin . Now let's get started on the project."

No matter how many times they decided to do the project, they both would get off track. Dee never realized how much depth Daisy had until he started talking to her, but Daisy could feel herself start to get a little anxious. He was starting to ask questions that she tried to avoid, such as 'Why did you move here' and 'How come you never mention anything about your life?' But the thing was, she liked that he was interested. It had been a long time for her since someone asked her genuine questions, and a small part of her was happy. But only a small part. The rest of her was riddled with insecurities, bad memories, and anxiety that she wanted to get rid of. That's why when she looked at the clock, she visibly jumped back. "Shit its 6:30! Sorry Dee but I have to go!" Daisy yelled trying to quickly pack her things. "Wait before you go, we should trade numbers, and plan for tomorrow." Dee said, pulling out his phone to add her contact. And she grabbed Dee’s phone and add her contact information. “Here, don’t miss me too long.” She said, “As if,” Dee said as Daisy opened the door from his bedroom.I'll just come over after dinner okay?" She quickly said, flashing a smile Daisy down the stairs and said bye to Heavy. She runs out of the house leaving behind a confused Dee. Daisy ran as fast as she could. She only had 30 minutes to make herself presentable and practice her pieces that were assigned to her by Ms. Lydia, who also had started to force her to call her miss. As she finally approached her house and ran toward the door, she noticed two silhouettes talking through the window. The girl cautiously opened the door, and was a little shocked to see Ms. Lydia and her father talking. They were both in formal attire as they both looked at the girl who was standing in the doorway. "I forgot to mention to you Margarita, but Ms. Lydia won't be giving you a lesson today. She has some family matters to settle today, but tomorrow I will teach you myself."Daisy gulped and broke out into a cold sweat, looking down at her feet, away from the analyzing eyes of the tall blonde woman. "Yes father, thank you." The girl said, leaving that room as fast as her feet could take her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dee P.O.V

“So she was over here today? If she would have stayed longer I would have loved to meet her!" Glam said, picking up the empty plates from the table into the sink. "Do you mind if I take the leftovers with me? I've been waking up hungry at four in the morning lately." Ches asked, leaning back in his chair even more. "Yep!" dad fixed Ches a container of the food, before walking out and joining everyone else for a round of poker. This just left Dee and Ches alone, sitting across from one another. "So Uncle Ches..." Dee sighed not knowing how to bring up the topic. “What's up?" Ches asked, eyeing the boy. "How do you tell a girl that you like her?” The boy asked, trying his best not to let his nervousness show. Ches's eyes grew wide with those words, and his posture was more rigid than before. “Wo ho ho , you got a chick you like, so who is she?” Glam heard about this and he was surprised that Dee had a crush on someone. “Aww, Dee, who’s the lovely lady who stole your heart.” Dee turned bright red with embarrassment. “Well, I used to like this girl named Lif , and then it turns out she likes someone else, it hurt when she said that.” Ches looks sorry for Dee. Glam said “Well sorry to hear that Dee, it must have hurt very much.” Dee looked at his dad “It did very much, but now I got over it and know she is probably happier with someone else.” Dee sighed. “There’s this other girl, who just moved here last month and I think I am starting to have feelings for her.” Ches smirked and said “So this lady caught your eye, so who is she?” Dee turned red again just by thinking about her. “Her name is Daisy, she is amazing and beautiful. She has these beautiful eyes and This amazing smile oh.” Glam smiled “Sounds like you like her a lot.” Dee looked at Glam “She’s the girl that Heavy gos on and on about and she was going to have dinner with us, but she left.” Ches stood up from his chair and said “Look, if you want to tell her how you feel, get her flowers or maybe even sing to her. That’s how I will do it, and don’t be nervous, it 's not like you haven’t gotten rejected before.” Ches laughed. Glam glared at Ches and bumped him in the chest. “Ow, what was that for Glam?” Glam said. “ You know what that was for.” Glam put his hand on Dee’s shoulder “Look, Dee just be honest and tell her how you feel. I remember being young and in love before.” Dee chuckled. “Was it mom that you told me your feelings?” Glam chuckled “Yes, and no,” Dee was confused by this. “ My first love wasn’t your mother, it was a girl named Gianna, but we call her Gia.” Ches blushing a bit, he was trying to hide his blush. Glam look at Ches “You Remember Gia don’t you Ches?” Ches smiled “ yay, I remember Gia she was one of our members of our band, she play the guitar, she was one of those hippies before she turned metal, I think she is still a hippie.” Glam brought a picture frame from the living room. It shows a band that his dad and Uncle Ches were in. In the photo there was his dad and Uncle Ches, and the other band members, but one stood out from the rest, a young woman with a hippie outfit next to his dad.Ches pointed to the young woman. “That is Gia, she was the literally Dream Girl,” Glam sat in his chair. He said “The last thing that I heard of her, she went back to Brazil and started a family.” Glam looks a little sad. In Glam’s head he kinda wished that Gia didn’t end their relationship, he wished that he could have a family with Gia. Not that he didn’t love his relationship with Vicky, he really loved Victoria, but what Glam had with Gia was different, it was more tender and sweet.”

“Don’t worry, Dee, you're going to be okay. The heart wants what it wants.” Uncle Ches said. But Dee still sat there, in fact he couldn't find it within himself to leave the table. He just had this nagging feeling that something was wrong, that something went down without his knowing. 'I mean it was weird that Diana and Daisy stopped talking all of a sudden...I already talked to her, but maybe she knows something?" Dee thought while pulling out his phone from his pocket, and texted a certain pink haired girl. Dee: Diana, do u know anything else about Daisy ?

*The person you are trying to text has blocked you*

"What the fuck. Blocked?!?" Dee yelled out loud, confused and borderline hurt of Diana's action. 'I will find out more if it's the last thing I do.' He thought before putting his phone away and joining his family for poker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy was truly grateful that her lesson was canceled, but was not looking forward to playing with her father tomorrow.Remnants of her lip gloss were on the corners of her mouth, while her lips were chapped. The girl decided to move away from the mirror. She took out her history textbook, but instead of making her usual lines on the cover, she opened it up and started to read about the influential people of Russia. 'Maybe, just maybe, if I read too much then I'll go blind. Then I'll never press any type of white or black key again.' Daisy thought, looking down at her short fingernails, wondering if her father will force her to play until she's bruised all over.

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Hey Y’all how are you guys, I just want to tell you that my OC Gia is Daisy’s mom and that she is my original character. I give you the back story about Gia later in the chapters. If you have any questions tell about it in the comments section below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outfit reference

[makingwordsgo]

Please go check out my new fanfic on AO3 and leave a comment ❤️

In a race against time to shield her daughter from her husband's avarice, Layla forges a celestial contract with the Spirit King, binding Lucy to the Leo constellation for protection and a future marriage. The bond demands formidable magical strength; otherwise, it drains life force over time, marked by a swirling gold band. Lucy defies odds by surviving the bond at ten, later fleeing her father when the bond weakens. Joining Fairy Tail, she clashes with Loke but finds an undeniable connection, her bond mark warming in his presence. Resisting their bond, Lucy gradually sees beyond Loke's facade. However, looming threats from the celestial realm seek to sever their bond, even if it means Lucy's demise.

A blonde sat delicately perched on a cliffside across from a cascading waterfall, her body leaning against a metal barrier as her feet dangled above the water below. She hummed softly, the tranquil melody contrasting with the weight of her thoughts. She knew her old friend would come—he always did, and they had much to discuss.

Only three years remained, and the prospect of leaving her daughter alone with her changed husband sent chills down Layla's spine. He had once been caring and attentive, a wonderful husband, but the allure of wealth had transformed him. Now distant, distracted, and often angry, he tried to shape Layla and their daughter into a mold of respectability, forgetting their humble origins. His demands to sever ties with friends and his outbursts of anger revealed a man she no longer recognized.

Layla couldn't bear the thought of her daughter falling prey to the greed-driven men who sought to exploit her for their gain. This was why she was here—a promise, unbreakable and sacred, to protect Lucy at any cost. The agreement she sought with her friend would bind Lucy's safety in the years to come, safeguarding her from a fate Layla couldn't accept.

The pressure around her swelled, time seeming to halt. Silence enveloped the cliffside, the roar of the waterfall silenced in anticipation of his arrival.

“Old friend, you shouldn’t sit like that; you might fall,” his voice was soft yet carried authority.

Layla looked up, grinning mischievously. “Chill out, Stach-face, it's perfectly safe. Besides, time is running short, and I do enjoy living on the edge.”

He stared at her pointedly, and Layla stood, brushing off dirt as she faced him.

“I didn’t call you here for a lecture. I...” She paused, weighing her words carefully. “I need your help.”

“What kind of help do you require? You know I can't intervene with the magic drain,” he responded.

Layla waved off his concerns. “It’s not that.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I wish to forge a celestial bonding contract for my daughter.”

His eyes widened, revealing his understanding of the gravity of her request.

“That is not a request to be made lightly, Layla,” he cautioned.

Layla's gaze dropped momentarily before she raised it with determination. “I understand the importance, but I have no other choice. Lucy needs protection, and I can't leave her to the whims of that man,” anger tinged her voice, her body shaking with emotion.

“Very well, with whom do you wish to form the contract?”

“The strongest member of the Zodiac. I trust no one other than Leo the Lion. No one would dare break their bond under the risk of forfeiting their life,” Layla declared boldly.

“Layla, you understand the magnitude of what you're asking. Should the bond fail, both their lives could be forfeit. This is powerful magic, and more harm than good could come of it,” he warned.

Layla's eyes hardened, her resolve unyielding. She rolled up her sleeve, revealing a swirling gold tattoo around her wrist.

“Or have you forgotten our own bonding contract?” Layla's voice softened, the gold tattoo pulsing under his gaze.

He looked away, his eyes filled with regret.

“I'm sorry; I didn’t mean to make light of our situation, but it is because of our circumstances that I must ensure this is done right. Layla Heartfilia, do you pledge your daughter Lucy Heartfilia to the bond?” he asked.

“Yes,” Layla responded without hesitation.

“Do you accept Leo the Lion as her faithful protector, and in turn promise her hand to Regulus when she comes of age in her eighteenth year?” he continued.

“Yes,” Layla affirmed.

“Then as it is spoken, it shall be written. Lucy Heartfillia belongs to the stars under the protection of the constellation Leo, Leader of the Zodiac. May she live a happy, fulfilled life in starlight.” Magic surged around them as starlight bloomed across the space before fading.

“It is done. I hope you know what you’re doing, Layla. Don’t let our fate become hers,” he cautioned before vanishing, leaving the world to resume its motion.

Layla sagged against the fence, drained by the weight of her choices, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry, Seirio,” she whispered, feeling a fleeting touch on her back before it vanished.

With a sense of urgency, Layla stood and hurried home. Her daughter needed her now more than ever.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 22

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Aren't we having lots of fun Whoa oh oh Live the nightmare again Aren't we having lots of fun Whoa oh oh We will sleep when we're dead Aren't we having lots of fun

~Lots of Fun by Tryhardninja~

The bear kept a steadfast watch while the others slept, and they got a solid few hours of rest before the commotion outside began. Originally, it seemed like the dayshift staff was slow to arrive—in reality, they were simply looking elsewhere in the Pizzaplex as it was immediately clear that Chica and Roxy weren't in their rooms. Freddy peered out the window just in time to see Sophie's familiar face marching towards his door.

“Everyone, wake up!” Freddy exclaimed in a whisper, rushing over to lightly nudge the group awake. “Dayshift staff is coming to check on me—hide in the back until they are gone!”

The day guard didn’t seem as easygoing as she was yesterday. This was bad. Really bad. Half their robots were missing. Someone had swiped the refurbished Foxy animatronic before they had a chance to announce his grand revival—a fact few staff even knew about. Roxy Raceway was smoldering when Sophie arrived at the Pizzaplex.

Mr. Emily couldn't come into work and see this. Despite his kind heart, Sophie had a feeling the high-strung man wouldn't hesitate to fire all of them for such a fiasco.

“Freddy!” She knocked, unaware of the issue that the team was having waking up Gregory.

The kid was out cold. It hadn't taken Charlie or Michael much time to get up, but because of how sleepy Gregory had been, he was waving them off and rolling over to ignore their pleas to wake. The kid mumbled something about feeling too sick for school before Charlie went to pull the blankets off of him—

Then, the door unlocked with a master key and security guard Sophie let herself in past the threshold, only to blink at the oddball group.

Right. That was another thing: the Fazbear Entertainment heirs had stopped by for a check-in.

“Uh... Pardon me. Mr. Afton, Ms. Emily—” she acknowledged, rightfully assuming their identities based on rumors she’d heard about special visitors.

Don't ask the snooty rich people why they were sleeping in Freddy's room, Sophie thought, slowly making her way inside. That’ll just be awkward...

“—Freddy! What the heck happened last night?!” Sophie interrogated, mindful of the sleepy child in the room by directing her anger into a rough whisper-shout.

“Ah, I... do not know, Officer Sophie; I am afraid my memory banks are still on the fritz,” Freddy said, stalling for a moment as he processed that the others were not about to be taken into custody.

It seemed Vanessa had regained consciousness in time to inform dayshift that the Afton and Emily heirs were currently visiting for an extended period. Staff were instructed to be as cordial as possible and listen to any request they had, lest they feel the wrath of the CEO bearing down upon them with swift consequences.

Michael had frozen along with Charlie as the door was wrenched open, staring wide-eyed at the intruding woman. He recognized her from yesterday, though she sounded in a much fouler mood than before—rightly so, he had to concede, for the stress of losing three of the main animatronics in a giant Megamall would certainly make anyone a little snippy. Upon realizing their ruse from last night still held up, Michael allowed the tension in his shoulders to relax, shifting his face into the more serious imitation of his father. He acknowledged Sophie with a light nod, then went back to trying to gently wake up Gregory, though not nearly in as much of a panic.

Gregory gently batted Mike's hand as it nudged him. He was determined to sleep, and hugged his Freddy plushie accordingly.

“Freddy... Are you lying to me? I know you’d been escorting our uh... friends around.” Sophie said, with lack of a better way to describe the surprise guests. The two other people in the room were dressed like they’d grabbed stuff off the racks in a dark room, all things she recognized as merch from their stores. Though referring mentioning such a thing with or without provocation would certainly end in Sophie’s termination.

Charlie finally managed to get Gregory to wake up by sliding his plushie from under his arms and earning a frustrated simmer of words.

“Why is everyone being annoying?!” Gregory moaned, stopping Sophie in her accusations while she watched the tiny, presumed Afton complain.

“Shush, Gregory,” Michael said tartly, though he made sure to run a hand over the boy's hair to show his tone was just for show. “We've got a visitor.”

“I am not programmed to lie,” Freddy responded to Sophie, his face a mask of innocent confusion. “As you said, I have been escorting the Afton and Emily heirs around all night... I did not notice anything amiss.”

The bear glanced towards the trio questioningly, head tilted in detached deference. He was a machine with selective memory loss at this moment, and that's all that he was.

“I didn't, either,” Michael said with a shake of his head. His eyes narrowed at the guard, his tone ice-cold. “Why? Is there a problem...?”

Oh fuck, Sophie was in trouble now. When she looked to Michael her face burned, a flustered red stripe glowed over her nose and onto the apples of her cheeks. Obviously he would rat her out to his father—wherever the hell he’d been all this time—about the current and ongoing issue.

Though if Mr. Afton was here, along with Mr. Emily's daughter, then surely they were here as employees? Despite the man's cold, blue stare, perhaps he was here to help...

“...Yes. Every day I've been coming in to do my security rounds, animatronics have gone missing. They've all been experiencing a personality glitch, too. We can't even find where the robots are going on the security feeds, because they stopped recording weeks ago,” Sophie admitted. After all, she wasn't the one supposed to be watching them at night!

Sophie managed to stand tall, hoping not to appear meek or inexperienced. She watched as Gregory quickly assumed a position behind Michael, gazing at her with judging, suspicious eyes. “It just doesn't make sense, sir.”

Charlie feigned a wide-eyed glance, as if surprised at this discovery. “Did you speak with the night guard?”

“Hardly. She told me the issue, that her wrist had gotten worse, that you three were visiting. Then, poof; she probably clocked out...,” Sophie explained further, acting as if she were talking before administration. Though one of the people who outranked her here was 12 years old. 

Michael’s face relaxed slightly as the poor day guard tried her best to explain the issue. He felt bad for stressing her out, but he needed to play the cool, commanding roll of authority. While he took ironic inspiration from his father, it didn’t mean he had to be exactly like William—especially in terms of compassion.

“…I see,” Mike said after a moment, his tone less sharply angry and more just annoyed. He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked at Sophie, who was clearly trying not to directly meet his intimidating stare.

“Well, this is certainly a major issue… but it seems like blame for lack of surveillance falls under jurisdiction of the night guard, doesn’t it?” He rolled his eyes with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, it’s insane that they only have one person to patrol this entire building after hours…”

“I am sorry I cannot be of more help,” Freddy said, looking as genuinely apologetic as a robot could. “As I have explained to you all separately, my connection to our internal network has been severed since the other night, so I have been unable to contact the other animatronics.”

“You’re not the security guard, Freddy,” Michael pointed out dryly. “It’s not your job to keep tabs on everyone…” He gave another sigh, then looked to Sophie again. “We can at least confirm that Freddy's functioning properly in Safe Mode, as he gave us a tour last night and didn’t show any issues.”

Sophie let out a breath she hadn't realized that she was holding. Michael may have intimidated her at first, though at his reassurance she allowed herself to stop fretting over whether or not she’d be blamed for the current state of the Mega Pizzaplex.

“Best case scenario, they're broken down without power, which is why they aren’t responding to the manual call-back buttons inside their rooms,” Sophie explained, looking to Freddy with an exhausted smile. “At least you're still kicking it, right, superstar? Heh…”

The bear seemed to be in better shape than the state she found him in last night anyway. Sophie’s attention was pulled back to Michael, the most adept liar of the group for answers. “And you guys didn't notice anything out of place last night then, I take it.”

“Not at all,” Mike replied easily, shifting his weight so he leaned against the couch with arms still crossed. “Well, we noticed the other animatronics weren't in their rooms—although they've always tended to wander.”

A faint, strained smile crossed his lips for just a second as his eyes flitted to Freddy. There was a slight, awkward lull in the conversation, before Michael decided to ask: “Do you need Freddy for anything today?”

Hopefully she'd say no and he could remain by their side. Although, even if the techs did want to check him out just to be safe, at least Michael was no longer afraid of being discovered and having police called on them for trespassing.

“I need Freddy to stay in his room,” Sophie replied much to the dismay of Gregory, who desperately required a proper breakfast in his stomach asap. Sophie seemed set on this, hands on her hips as she made it clear: “While dayshift’s out looking for the rest of the band, no other animatronics are to leave their rooms. Obviously we’re on temporary shut-down from customers while we find the Glamrocks. Not to mention how messy all the attractions have gotten...” She sighed, shifting into a more demure stance. “You’ve probably heard all this from the big boss already, though.”

Charlie wanted to protest Freddy’s jail time, though any excuse she had lined up wouldn't have made sense with their current situation. There technically wasn’t a need for Freddy to be outside of his room, since there was no one to entertain today. The Mall would stand empty this weekend—a rarity for the money-making pit. Luckily, Gregory spoke up in their bear friend’s defense.

“But—” he interjected, peeking from behind Michael. “—he's my friend. Mike said he gets to play with me as much as I want!”

“There's other great animatronics, too,” Sophie reminded gently, firm in her conviction on this point. “There's the Sun character from the Daycare, the DJ...”

While it wasn’t an outward no, she’d essentially told Gregory to go kick rocks.

“It is alright, Gregory,” Freddy reassured, smiling brightly. He knew it would be even stranger if the others stayed in his room all day, and he could tell that Gregory was getting hungry. Still, he hated the thought of just being stuck in his room while the other three wandered the Pizzaplex...

Although, he reasoned that they wouldn't be alone, as the entire stock of dayshift staff were around—and Freddy also hadn't forgotten about that animatronic presumably still lurking in the vents. Despite Michael's obvious hatred of the thing, Ennard had saved him and Gregory, so Freddy presumed they'd offer the same protection if circumstances became dire.

Michael had a similar thought process to Charlie—he could probably get them to let Freddy wander around by throwing the Afton name around a little harder, but it would only cause unnecessary questions. It was all well and good for a 12 year old to be attached to the bear, but his two adult caretakers should agree with the other adult in this circumstance... At least for right now.

“Hey, we can still visit Freddy anytime we want—plus, it'll be easier to find him now that we know he's staying in one spot!” Michael pointed out, looking down at Gregory and pleading with his eyes not to fight the issue. His plan was to go along with Sophie's wishes for a little bit, and then swing back and pick up Freddy after they got Gregory some food. If they were questioned about the bear, they could deal with it then.

There it was, rearing its ugly head again: Gregory was beginning to develop separation anxiety. Though clearly it would be easier to go along with their wishes, Gregory could only cross his arms and pout. There was no way to protest this without feeling like he was jeopardizing the mission. So, silently, he glared at Sophie who took this in stride.

Charlie ruffled his hair in response, doting on him while excusing his behavior. “Sorry, Ms...?”

“—Walten,” Sophie filled her in, introducing herself fully to them. “Sophie Walten.”

Charlie smiled kindly at her, holding Gregory's shoulders as she felt the boy seethe with silent anger. “You'll have to excuse him; the kid didn't sleep enough.”

“And he gets grumpy when he's hungry,” Michael added, flashing Gregory a grin much closer to his normal demeanor. Settling his face back into cool detachment, Mike looked back to Sophie. “Do you happen to know if there's any dining location in this place that sells breakfast food? We’re not quite familiar with everything yet.”

Michael hoped it would cheer Gregory up from having to part with Freddy if he could get something other than pizza, since he still seemed a little queasy from inhaling an entire one last night. Besides, who knew when the last time the kid had a proper breakfast was...

As Mike posed his question, Freddy moved closer to Gregory so the boy could stay by his side a little longer. He even patted his back gently, as that wasn't out of the realm of what Freddy might do to comfort a random, upset child. Hoisting Gregory into his arms would probably cause some questions though, so the bear avoided that for now.

Sophie softened more when Michael relented to smiling at the child. Maybe he wasn't the hard-ass she presumed him to be.

“El Chip technically sells lunches. But I get their 'Not breakfast' Burritos when I get here early enough,” Sophie offered as their solution. It was one of her favorites, the pork burrito drawing a fine line between breakfast and lunch but remaining mild enough to eat first thing in the morning.

“That sounds tasty—right?” Charlie asked, nudging Gregory some until she saw a faint smile on his face.

“Can I have two burritos?” Gregory asked, feeling his stomach quietly rumble at the mention of food.

“I suppose that’s fine,” Michael said with another faint smile. He patted Gregory's shoulder as he addressed Sophie, telling her: “Well, we need to get this one some breakfast. We appreciate the update on the situation, though—please let us know if anything else comes up.”

His tone indicated this wasn't a request, but a command. Mike wanted to be the first one to hear any news—they never knew what might help their situation down the line. Besides, to his knowledge there still hadn't been any update regarding Monty's missing half—a fact that Michael easily forgot about over the course of the stressful night, but was concerning nonetheless. There were only two things that could've happened: either Monty crawled away on his own, or someone took him... and Michael wasn't sure which was worse.

“Uh right—I can give you both updates, sir,” Sophie assured, nerves making her play with the hem of her shirt sleeve. “In fact, if you happen to swing by any of the security offices, you can grab some walkie-talkies stored in the desks. That way you both can stay in the know a little easier.”

She made sure to smile at both of them. Her job was on the line at this point, and as Sophie began to egress, she waved.

“I should check on the others. Stay safe, you two.” Sophie tried to sound optimistic despite the dire circumstances. Upon her departure, Charlie nudged Michael in the shoulder.

“Dude, you were going to make her pee herself.” She was barely holding back a snicker at the way Michael's acting had the security guard wracked with nerves.

“Ugh, in a way I wish I wasn't so good...,” Mike replied with a dramatic shiver, then nudged Charlie in the arm. “But look at you, playing the sweet, innocent one; you almost had me fooled for a moment there!”

Michael tried to play this comment off with a straight face, but that only lasted about three seconds before he burst out laughing at his own lame joke. Now that the coast was clear, Freddy crouched in front of Gregory and began fixing up his sleep-mussed hair, wanting him to appear as presentable as possible for the dozens of staff who'd inevitably see him. The less questions they had about the random appearance of the founders' grandchildren, the better.

It seemed Charlie could only remained straight-faced as long as Mike did. Once his dam of giggles burst, Charlie was barely holding back her own laughter. Was it lame? Yes; it was still funny to her regardless.

Gregory may have done well with a comb, though the naturally wavy hair hid how under-groomed he was. This kid probably needed a shower more than anything, still hiding the sweat and blood by simply changing his clothes whenever possible. Gregory closed his eyes as Freddy swept a claw along his bangs, trying his best to clear the boy's face of his messy hair. The cut on his cheek had faded into a thin, pink line. Bruises that were already yellow when they first saw him had disappeared into obscurity on his face.

“I'll see you soon, Dad,” Gregory said, making sure his Fazwatch was turned on with its sound on the louder side. It wouldn't hurt him to make sure they could reach Freddy whenever possible.

“Yeah, don't worry—we'll get Gregory some food and head right back to bust you out of here, alright?” Michael added, filling the others in on his plan. He stood straight-backed and, in the poshest British accent he could manage, proclaimed: “Let's see what they'll do if Michael Afton Jr. insists on keeping the robot around, hmm?”

Freddy chuckled at this display, glad to see Mike in good spirits.  Still crouched, Freddy pulled Gregory into a quick hug before letting the boy go to join his siblings. “I will see you shortly, superstar; enjoy your breakfast!”

“Eugh, dude—the voice,” Charlie griped dramatically. She pantomimed a look of nausea as Gregory gently slapped her arm while laughing at Michael's over-pronunciation.

To strangers, Mike came off as aloof and threatening with this impression. To Gregory, he sounded like Mary Poppins. It was all an act anyway, and sure, it was fun to pretend to be someone else for a while. After Gregory gave his dad a farewell hug, he parted to run between Michael and Charlie.

“If anyone asks, Gregory, who are you again?” Charlie drilled quickly, holding his hand as she quizzed him to see if he remembered what they told Vanessa yesterday.

“I'm Michael's cousin!” he replied quickly, hoping the distance in relation would excuse his lack of emotion. Surely no one would be so interested in them or their family lineage to ask such invasive questions, though it was good to have a little background.

“Perfect.” Charlie gave his hand a squeeze for luck. Soon, they were freely roaming Rockstar Row, no worries now that the sun had risen.

It was strange to see the Pizzaplex bustling with life. Though Michael and Charlie's souls had technically been around since its inception, they'd only woken up once the terrible threat of William Afton reared his ugly rabbit head yet again. Even though no guests roamed the floors, the flurry of staff running to and fro gave a hint as to what life might be like when things were normal around here.

Mike felt a pang of wistfulness as he watched a group of younger staff members chatting and laughing together. He'd given the dayshift a shot during his early years, but he had a nasty habit of getting attached to people that inevitably met an unfortunate end, so he tried to stay friendly but aloof enough that it was easy to cut ties when the time came. Despite the terror of his nightshift duties, he appreciated its solitude for similar reasons. Even so... sometimes he wondered what it would've been like if things had been different.

But he didn't need to dwell on those thoughts now—he had a family that would stick by his side through thick and thin now, and for once he dared to feel a little bit happy.

The walk to El Chips was surprisingly short, since the trio were distracted by all the bright colors of the Pizzaplex in the daylight. They also got some stares as well, but no one dared come up and speak to them. Sophie's warning that it would be in everyone's best interest not to bother them, especially the Afton boys, certainly did the trick.

The group of young adults had seen the trio coming, and after one elbowed and sharply whispered to the others, they grabbed for the nearest task to look busy. One swept over a clearly clean spot with a broom, another began wiping down a help desk, while the third pretended to answer a call.

Watching them made Charlie wistful, too. It may have seemed that she and Mike were judging the workers, but really their glares were only filled with envy. Charlie had never gotten a chance to form solidarity in a group like that when she was alive. Thankfully, she’d been given a second chance to try it with her new family.

Inside the restaurant the S.T.A.F.F. bots were busy cleaning, though one rolled behind the counter once recognizing customers coming in.

“Two burritos, please!” Gregory shouted, running up to the counter;

“That will be eight dollars and twenty six cents,” the bot replied in a scripted form.

Gregory narrowed his eyes, on his toes to be able to send a dangerous glare over the counter. “I don't have any stinking money! Just put it on Mr. Afton's tab or something!”

When the robot repeated the question, Gregory felt his bottom lip wobble. He was exhausted and hungry, and this might just be the final straw to send him over the edge. Why did all the robots around here want him to starve?

“No worries—I've got this. Gregory, keep a lookout,” Michael instructed, taking a furtive look around before hopping over the counter. When assured no human staff were wandering by, he opened a back panel in the S.T.A.F.F. bot that gave the techs quick access to its computer system. Being such a rudimentary design compared to the likes of the Glamrocks, it took Mike less than a minute to finagle some base coding around to turn off the bot's insistence on monetary compensation.

Michael closed up the back panel and returned to the correct side of the counter, waiting intently to see if his little trick worked. The robot was still for a moment as it reset, before suddenly perking up and responding:

“Thank you for your patronage. You are order number...” It paused, accessing data from the last time someone had bought food. “...87. Please listen for your number at the window. Have a Faz-tastic day.”

“Yesss!” Michael cheered quietly, pumping a subdued fist at his side when the robot wandered off to the kitchen to start preparing the food. He then glanced down at Gregory, trying to be serious despite the grin twitching up the corners of his mouth. “It's not good to tamper with company property like that, okay? If you're with anyone but us, you could get in biiiig trouble.”

Gregory felt his own smile grow as he witnessed the blatant vandalism of the robots. With both him and Charlie watching for any signs of human intervention, Gregory was excited to finally hear the order number after one grueling minute.

“Of course, Mr. Afton.” Gregory snickered, happily confident that they had the whole facility tricked into thinking they were allowed to be here.

“With Michael hacking the server bots and that fake coin of yours, we could have a fun day today,” Charlie pointed out. It would be good for them to try and unwind before what was sure to be another night of insanity.

“Oh, yeah!” Mike perked up at the mention of Gregory's handy coin on a string. He glanced to their right, where if they listened closely the faint sounds of beeping and electronic music could be heard. “You know, we're right next to the arcade... One of them, at least. If you want, we could play a few games before picking up Freddy?”

He glanced down at Gregory, wondering if the boy's desire to be a kid or his newly-formed separation anxiety from his animatronic dad would win out.

Gregory took a moment to toss the idea around in his head. It seemed as though every time they strayed from Freddy for too long, something got in the way. There was always some mishap or disaster that required immediate action. Charlie bent at the waist, shaking Gregory by the shoulders to encourage the boy’s more explorative side.

“Gregory—think of the prizes we could get,” she teased. Charlie wanted him to forget his worries for a little while, and video games were the perfect distraction.

“Alright—after I get my burritos, we should hit up the Arcade!” Gregory finally relented, conceding to the impromptu plan of relaxing with some video games. Anything to remove the lingering fear this place still held over him. Then, they would return right back to Freddy. No harm, no foul.

“Order number 87—your food is ready at the window.”

As if on cue, the S.T.A.F.F. bot's voice called to them from a little window off to the side. A bright orange tray with Freddy's face on it was set down, though the image was mostly obscured by the plate on top of it that contained two piping hot burritos. Michael grabbed the food before Gregory could crawl up on the counter and attack it in a frenzy, walking the group over to one of the little tables in the back. He set the tray down and slipped into a seat on the opposite side, patting the spot next to him for Charlie to join.

Gregory had thrown himself into the tan plastic chair. Surrounded by orange, green, and bright glowing cacti he practically vibrated under the neon lights for the burritos he’d been promised. He wasted no time as Charlie squeezed in besides Michael, mindful not to sit on his hand before looking at the food Gregory opened with envy. Sugar was one thing, but she wasn't exactly sure if they were made to withstand eating normal meals.

“How're the burritos?” Charlie asked, watching as Gregory took a bite and swallowed a portion, yet didn't seem fully satisfied until he reached for a bottle of Tabasco. He quickly poured a good fraction of sauce into the burrito before taking another critical munch.

“Tangy,” Gregory replied, trying not to spit his food everywhere as he spoke with a full mouth.

“What a rousing review,” Michael snickered.

Tentatively, more afraid of Gregory trying to bite his hand off than the consequences of what he was about to do, Mike reached for a small piece of extra pork left on the plate next to the untouched burrito. He held it up to the light, suspicious as always of Fazbear Entertainment food. Then with a shrug he put the pork into his mouth, chewing experimentally before swallowing it down with shining eyes.

“Okay, we'll see what this does to my systems in a few hours, but I sure hope we can actually eat—I missed horrible, cheap food like this,” Michael admitted, watching as Gregory inhaled the rest of his first burrito and moved onto the next one. Whereas the sugar had been sweet, the pork was even better than Mike remembered. Maybe his pure desire to taste food again was clouding his taste buds, but he didn't really care.

“Are you kidding me?” Charlie asked, wide-eyed as if the Fazbear food hadn't been everything when they were younger. Being raised on a steady diet of processed, cheesy pizza, made it Charlie's comfort food. Or, perhaps the idea of it was. “The sawdust they probably packed that burrito with is flavor country.”

As the pair spoke, Gregory was currently trying to beat the world record for most El Chip meals eaten in 30 seconds or less. That didn't even count the time he took to inject a heavy dose of Tabasco into this tortilla as well. He couldn't make for conversation, as he was busy devouring his breakfast like it was his last meal.

Mike relented with a laugh, raising his palms up in a gesture of peace. The food might be horrible in an objective sense, but he had to admit he couldn't get enough of it, either. He turned to check on Gregory, eyes widening as he saw the plate completely empty and the boy licking his fingers clean.

“Wow... I suppose we're done with breakfast then!” Michael pushed a stack of napkins towards Gregory. In his frenzy, the boy had gotten Tabasco all over his face, and Mike watched Charlie out of the corner of his eye to see if her sisterly instincts kicked in enough to try and wipe off his face again like at the diner.

No, it wasn't Charlie licking her thumb this time. She thought smarter and licked a napkin first as she leaned over the table. As Gregory attempted to escape her reach, Charlie's reflexes were superior to his. The back of his head was held in place as she dabbed the orange vinegar and spice solution from around his mouth and cheeks.

“Bluh! Pfftt—” Gregory raspberried the air, trying to get Charlie to cease her sisterly actions. This had only spurred her on out of spite.

“Oh stop! There's no one even here; are you embarrassed because I love you?” she remarked, feigning offense to his refusal in allowing her to clean him.

“No! It's because you put cooties on that napkin!” Gregory griped, entirely serious, which only made Charlie laugh harder.

“No, wait, Charlie—he's right!” Michael exclaimed, eyes wide and serious. His words caused her to pause and stare at him with a raised eyebrow. “You do have cooties...”

He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, then flashed a wicked grin. “But I don't—c’mere!”

Faster than lightening, Michael had licked his own napkin and took over Charlie's attempt to wipe the remaining half of the stubborn orange stain from Gregory's face. His shrieks of protest only made Mike laugh and work harder until, finally, Gregory was sufficiently clean enough to let go. Mike sat back in his chair with a satisfied nod, discarding the crumpled napkin on the table and smiling brightly. “See—that was much better, wasn't it?”

Oh how badly Gregory wanted to frown. As he flopped his backside back into the plastic seat Gregory tried so hard to pout. Yet a smile twitched back in at the last second.

Charlie nodded in agreement. “Much better, we can see your cute face without all that grease.”

Gregory's was red with embarrassment as he wiped away the synthetic spit. Though everything had been carefully removed by Michael, he still felt as if it was there just clinging to him.

“I'm not cute!” he protested further, then felt the need to get up and throw away his trash to escape the attention. The kid’s reaction had only made Charlie excited for the future.

How could they collectively embarrass Gregory with their familial affection in public spaces?

It reminded her of when she’d tried to be more independent, but her parents refused to let her feel like anything except their baby. Gregory may have acted mad, but Charlie could spot the hidden smile from miles away.

Surreptitiously, Mike held out a hand underneath the table for Charlie to high-five, murmuring too quietly for Gregory to hear from across the room. “Good one, sis.”

And it was true—he and Charlie were best friends to the end, but sometimes it was hard to tell where that line of friendship ended and family began. Besides, thinking logically as Freddy would, if Charlie and Michael were both Gregory’s siblings, then it stood to reason they were each other’s as well.

Charlie would try to sneak him a high-five, finding herself smiling at Michael’s little nickname for her.

“Careful,” she reminded him “That hand’s covered in cooties.”

“Who wants to get their asses kicked at Faz-Fighters?” Gregory asked upon regaining his composure. He already knew the answer though. His siblings were practically begging for one after rubbing spit all over him. Charlie stood up to let Mike have space to leave, shooting Gregory a mock glare as she rose from the chair.

“Those are strong words for someone within noogie distance,” Charlie warned him fair and square, causing Gregory to laugh and hide away by Michael’s side. The kid seemed to be in better spirits with some more food in his stomach.

“Oh, you’re on, Gregory,” Michael said, eagerly leading the way to the arcade with Gregory tagging along close to his side. “Little did you know that I was the master at arcade games back when I was your age!”

Michael’s chest puffed up a bit. He hadn’t been able to gloat like that in forever! Sure, he might be competing with a twelve year old, but he had a feeling this kid had more skills than Mike’s other siblings and the Emily’s combined. With the confidence of someone who thinks they’re unbeatable, Michael grinned down at Gregory with a raised eyebrow. “Want to make it a real competition and add a bet to this thing? I’ll even let you set the conditions.”

Charlie knew if they had any of the older games like Fruity Maze or Midnight Motorist, Gregory would be toast. However, the kid seemed to have an overabundance of confidence when it came to arcade cabinets.

“Bet? I thought we didn’t have any money!” Gregory replied with a smirk. Though that wasn’t him dismissing the idea outright. In fact, Gregory looked curious. “Alright—if I win, you gotta carry me on your shoulders and introduce me as Champion of the World.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. For a tiny kid, Gregory had a big ego. Luckily, Michael could relate at times.

“High stakes,” Charlie replied with a laugh. Gregory seemed as if he knew what he was doing. Hell, the kid risked his life to play video games, so he must love them.

Michael didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, merely sticking out a hand for Gregory to shake on and still wearing that overconfident smirk. “Deal.”

He didn’t bother setting victory conditions for himself. The chance to take a mental and physical break from the horrors his life had become was enough of a prize. Besides, though he was loathe to admit it, watching Gregory attach himself to the Faz-Fighters game console like it was molded to his hands did give Michael pause—

But only for a second. He was the reigning champion of high scores back in the original diner, after all. Surely this would be a piece of cake.

***

It was a piece of cake… just not for Michael. In a shockingly short span of time, the kid had wiped the floor with him, leaving Mike to stare open-mouthed at the flashing screen proclaiming Gregory the victor.

“No way…,” he muttered as the disbelief stared to wear off. In a slightly whining tone not unlike when he lost as a kid, Michael corrected: “I mean, no fair! This competition was rigged from the start! I demand a rematch.”

“Someone's a sore loser,” Gregory mentioned, perhaps trying to irk him intentionally as little brothers were want to do. He wore an impish grin, and pointed over to Charlie who’d been racking up tickets from one of her own games. Surely that was cheating; of course she'd be able to play the Puppet's Gift Giver like nobody’s business.

“We could play again,” Gregory said, swinging the drilled coin in his hand. “You're still gonna lose though.” He leaned against the machine, realistically thinking Michael may just be severely under practiced, hence his good luck this round. “I'll even be balloon boy this time! You'll totally win...”

The kid was a hustler and a con artist, that much was evident. As Charlie played her rather relaxed game of giving presents, she’d been laughing at the boys for the past five and a half minutes.

“No, I’m not falling for that—we’re playing Fruity Maze this time,” Michael said, crossing his arms resolutely so there was no room for argument. Gregory had picked one of his games, so now it was Michael’s turn. He shot Charlie a glare for her continuous snickering, though it was playful enough not to actually seem threatening—and Michael’s grumpiness only seemed to make her laugh harder. With bright eyes ready for revenge, Mike led Gregory over to one of the Fruity Maze consoles and gestured for him to slip his handy-dandy coin in the slot.

“You can go first,” he said with a wolfish grin. Surely the kid didn’t stand a chance on one of Michael’s old favorites.

Fruity Maze? Gregory scoffed and went towards the isometric, table shaped game. After quickly examining the controls, Gregory replied with a scoff. “Too easy. Just a maze...”

The clueless boy let his coin fall into the slot before pulling it out swiftly. As the game activated, Gregory realized that it was a timed challenge, every round started with so many seconds and although he did manage to earn some, the maze was nearly impossible being mostly dead-ends.

Who makes a game like that? Just to torture people?

The anxiety of wasting time on the clock eventually caught up with Gregory. On the third round, he met his fate in yet another dead end and let out a groan. “This game cheats; it's busted— there’s too many corners to get trapped in!”

“—Games are supposed to be fun, boys,” Charlie remarked with another laugh, her current pile of tickets stacking up heavily. What she was saving up for was unknown.

“Let me show you how a pro does it,” Michael said, stepping up to the console as Gregory faked the machine out with his coin again. He’d spent hours and hours of his life learning how to avoid every dead end and get all the power-ups he possibly could. His concentration narrowed into the small square window of the display, and soon he'd well-surpassed Gregory’s score. He could’ve played for much longer, but decided not to torture the kid too much and allowed his character to lose all his lives shortly thereafter.

“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Mike commented, trying to sound nonchalant despite the twinkling of mirth in his eyes.

A prompt was even displayed, telling Michael that he could input his initials to be immortalized in the High Score Roster. The roster itself wasn't very full, people not willing to go through the learning curve of a 40 year old game. Hell, Gregory would bet the machine itself was a salvage and wondered idly whose initials of SUZ still stood the top of the chart. It’d nearly been knocked off by Michael's score, just thirty points away.

“That's amazing!” Gregory replied with a hearty laugh. “There's only like six people on this chart and you got second place!”

Gregory would have to come back and learn the machine, just to get first place and rub it in Michael's face later.

“Thanks, kid,” Michael replied, taking his compliment as genuine and not realizing Gregory’s secret plans to dethrone him on the leaderboard. He typed in his initials and turned back to Gregory with a smile no longer wicked with fierce competitiveness.

“Even though we’re tied, you technically won the original game we made the bet on… so I’ll give you the win this time.” Michael held out his hand to shake on again, but as Gregory took it his grip tightened and he playfully threatened. “But next time, you’re going down!”

Gregory opened his mouth to disagree, his hand grip strength trying to match his brother, but when an alarm blared from Charlie's game in the corner his vision snapped to her. A robotic voice sounded from the speaker system, over the synth music they played on repeat inside the arcade.

“NEW HIGHSCORE!” it shouted, highlighting whenever someone topped the leader boards for any of the games. Tickets flew from its metal-box dispenser. Charlie knelt on the ground and just barely able to fit the roll she was collecting in her arms.

“I lived inside of an Arcade for like 30 years! I had a lot of time to get good at this game!” Charlie said, humbly averting her gaze before gathering her winnings together. She used to be sort of a newbie when it came to games and remembered having either Sammy or Michael beating levels for her that she just couldn't figure out. Now, she could operate one with her eyes closed.

Michael slowly shifted his gaze from Charlie to Gregory, murmuring to the boy: “Alright, good to know: never challenge Charlie to a high-score competition…”

After laughing at his jibe, Gregory rushed over to Charlie’s side and helped her pick up a ream of tickets that fluttered to the floor before his eyes. “What exactly are you gonna use those for, anyway?”

Charlie looked like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. Pointing back to the prize counter, Charlie diverted the boy's attention to the top shelf. On it was a 'deluxe' Fazbear vintage backpack. She spied it the last time they'd come to the Arcade. It came with a sticker sheet, a themed notebook, plus a Fazbear crayon pack. The backpack was familiar, and reminded her of the one a certain dead-beat Uncle had gifted to her long ago. She wanted it for the nostalgia factor mostly, but it wouldn't hurt to have a backpack to carry about things for both themselves and Gregory.

“Feast your eyes,” Charlie remarked, pointing to the saturated canvas bag. It appeared to be based off of Freddy's color scheme, the red's, tans and browns allowing a singular blue lightning bolt on the front to pop. “Two thousand more tickets, and it'll be mine.”

Michael let out a low whistle. “Wow, I didn’t notice that before…”

Likely because the last time he’d been here, he was still stuck in Freddy’s head. Plus, they’d either been running from Roxy or trying to find where Gregory wandered off to on the way to the security office. Speaking of which—

“Hey, Gregory—what was that game you found the other day? Princess-something?” Michael asked, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the machine for obvious reasons, but the brief flash of images he’d seen intrigued him. He glanced to Charlie again, gesturing to her ticket pile. “You won, right? Maybe we can check it out again and help Charlie get some tickets!”

Never mind the fact that they didn’t need tickets to get whatever merchandise they wanted. They were already wearing half the gift shop’s supply of clothes, but because of their Afton and Emily status, no one would dare question them even if they took the most expensive prizes in the whole mall. Still, though Michael’s instinct was to simply snatch the backpack off the shelf, he could appreciate Charlie’s want to do things the right way.

It was an endearing trait that Michael had really only seen in one other person—a good, good... friend and coworker from before he’d been scooped. The guy once recounted a story of how he racked up tickets for months to get a silly little prize he could’ve easily encouraged the mangers to gift him for overtime compensation… Michael rolled his eyes at the good memories, refusing to think of the bad ones that came afterwards.

“What do you think?” he prompted, nudging Gregory’s shoulder with his elbow and using the physical touch to ground himself. “Want to help your sis kick ass at video games?”

“Princess Quest?” Gregory asked, though really he knew which one his brother was talking about. The ticket payout was decent if you beat the game after unlocking everything. He could probably beat it again, faster now that he knew the paths and secrets.

“Yeah! It's in the corner; be back with a butt-ton of tickets!” he reassured, happy to show off in front of his siblings.

“Oooh! Thank you so much, Gregory!” Charlie made sure to tell him. After all, they could pool whatever was left over and get Gregory and Michael a prize, too. They could hone their skills for a bit and collect their tickets to get any number of things—or, if that didn’t work by the end of the day, go with Michael's plan to steal anything they wanted.

Charging towards the back, Gregory retraced his steps from two nights ago, his memory leading him correctly now to the dusty old game. Charlie did her best to roll up the absurd amount of tickets and fit them into her pockets.

“Here, let me take some,” Michael offered, holding out a hand when he saw Charlie struggle. When she hesitated, he rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I promise I won’t steal them… this time.”

He flashed her a grin, all teeth and unconvincing innocence, though he got Charlie to relent and hand over a small stack of tickets that Michael folded up and shoved into his pockets. While it wasn't entirely Michael's fault for having such an untrustworthy face, that devilish and toothy grin did not do well to convince her.

“I will destroy you if you use them to buy those cheap sunglasses again,” Charlie warned. She would never forget that time she'd gone to use the bathroom, coming back to find Michael with the brand new Fazbear aviators on his face. He wore them inside the whole day while Charlie struggled to earn back the ticket loss.

They followed Gregory’s path to the Princess Quest console. Michael frowned as he examined the area and the machine itself, both of which looked like they hadn’t been touched in a long time.

“Weird,” he murmured, running a fingertip over the console and coming away with a fine coating of dust. “It’s like no one’s played this for months…”

“It must have a reputation. I know when I played it, the game was glitchy as hell,” Gregory admitted, lining up with coin with the slot hole again before pressing start.

“No wonder no one wants to touch it,” Michael commented, watching the screen light up. He frowned, staring at the little yellow player character as she ran around per Gregory’s direction.

Something about this game was… not right. Michael couldn’t place why, though. It just left him with a queasy feeling in his stomach the more he watched the princess fend off the glitching purple creatures. Although, maybe the queasiness was just from the meat he’d stupidly consumed earlier.

“Looks like it’s part of a series,” Michael pointed out, speaking more to Charlie since Gregory was clearly in the zone. He gestured to the logo at the top of the console, which had a big Roman numeral “one” next to the Princess Quest name.

“Huh...” Gregory paused, hesitating on pressing on. If there were more, he would rather find a newer version to play. “Let's find the sequel! Maybe they fixed some of the glitches...”

There was something awful about those bunny creatures. They just reminded Gregory a little too much of William. Then again, the likelihood of him having some part in this games creation was high. After all, the other games had at least one of the co-owners names as credits for the IP.

“Isn’t there another arcade?” Michael asked, trying to recall his mental map of the Pizzaplex. They were in the East Arcade, so it stood to reason there was a West as well. “Maybe if we can’t find part two in here, it’ll be in the other one!” He paused with a slight tilt of his head. “…We should probably pick up Freddy first, though. And maybe get a walkie from the security office nearby.”

“Oh good idea! I can go grab the walkie-talkie,” Charlie offered, unafraid to go alone with all the employees freely meandering about.

As Gregory finished the level, this game left him with an odd headache. It was very easy to get distracted by the hypnotic sounds and atmosphere of it all. For it being a simple 8 bit game, its magnetism almost had Gregory asking Charlie what she said before he was able to pull his attention back.

“Oh yeah! We'll see you in a minute,” Gregory replied, figuring it best to pull away and try to contact his dad. Both to let him know where they were, and that they’d be swinging by, Gregory raised the themed watch to his face and began to phone him. “Freddy? Come in, Papa Bear...”

“HELLO, SUPERSTAR!” Freddy’s voice blasted out of the tiny speaker. Michael flinched back as Gregory frantically readjusted the volume while Freddy continued with his parental questioning. “How are you feeling? Did you have breakfast yet? If so, did you get enough to eat? Have you had water as well? It is very important to keep hydrated, you know! Are you having fun with Michael and Charlie?”

“Give the kid a chance to answer you, Freddy!” Michael chimed in with a laugh, leaning over so his voice could be caught by the Fazwatch microphone.

Gregory had sputtered a moment before the bear finished his barrage of questions. Gosh, he must be bored without them!

“We had breakfast burritos! I can pick some water up before we come back to get you,” Gregory assured, beginning to head out of the Arcade to wait for Charlie in the hall. “We're having a lot of fun! Right now we're trying to play the rest of Princess Quest so we can win Charlie this backpack she wants.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Freddy replied, the smile obvious in his voice. He was glad to hear that no strange instances had occurred during his absence, and that the trio seemed to be getting along just fine.

“Like Gregory said, we're coming to get you in a few minutes,” Michael added, following Gregory out into the hallway and parking them both against the wall just outside the arcade entrance. He took stock of the various staff members wandering around, though as before no one actually tried to talk to them.

“Alright; I will see you all soon!” Freddy responded, unable to hide his eagerness to get out of his room and spend some quality time with his family.

It seemed a number of staff were gathering near a large vent in the wall, shinning lights inside. As Charlie came back with one large walkie-talkie clipped to her belt buckle, she craned her head in curiosity at the spectacle.

“Something wrong, fellas?” she asked, standing behind the group. They must not have noticed her at first, the gaggle of young adults nearly jumping from their skin.

“Ms. Emily! Sorry—Uh... We... Think there might be a... A small rat problem?” a nervous boy forced out. Charlie raised an eyebrow, silently waiting for him to elaborate further “We... Uhm... We keep hearing scratching? And uh... Honking. That might just be Music Man though. He loves the vents...”

Charlie's first thought trailed to Ennard, and she instantly averted to soothing mode. “Oh! Don't you guys worry about rats. I'll tell management to schedule an exterminator on Monday.”

The staff thanked her as she headed back to her group with a wave, seemingly relieved not to go back to their investigation in the central airway vents.

“We should get back; Ennard is freaking the staff out...” Charlie jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, pointing out the pack of scared college graduates.

“Oh, for fu—” For the sake of Gregory and the sanity of the staff who flinched when Michael’s face twisted into an expression of what they presumed to be rage at their incompetence, Mike managed to reign in his curse. Pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, he heaved a sigh. Once composed, he offered the group a dead-eyed Afton stare, though it was really focused on the vent cover beyond them.

“Yes, it’s nothing to concern yourselves with,” he said to the huddled staff members. Michael clenched his teeth in a sharp smile. “I’ll see to this problem personally.”

With that proclamation, Michael turned on his heel and started the trek back to Freddy’s room, making sure to grab Gregory’s hand along the way. He wished there was a chemical he could just spray in the vents to flush Ennard out, but in reality Mike just needed to have a little chat. He’d almost gotten used to the fact that Ennard was following him around, but he couldn’t have the thing freaking out staff—the last thing they needed was for someone to come across the amalgamation on accident and get traumatized.

If Ennard didn't scare them, Michael's stern attitude sure had. Gregory made sure to hold onto to Mike's hand as his brisk pace was simply too fast for the boy. He made no complaints, despite the distance they crossed in such a short amount of time. It seemed the staff were more aware of them, either making sure to stay clear, or attempting to schmooze with the group by wishing them a 'good morning' in passing.

“Are you mad, Michael?” Gregory asked, hoping the mood Ennard put him in would pass.

“Hmm?” Mike glanced down at Gregory, having been lost in thought. When he saw the boy's face, his expression immediately softened into a much more easy-going smile. “No, I'm not mad—just annoyed. I don't want Ennard to get spotted; the last thing we need on top of everything else is people questioning what the hell they are.”

Which was true... although he really wanted the thing to just go away and never come back. However, Michael had a sinking feeling that Ennard had already grown a fondness for Gregory, too—certainly not to the extent they obsessed over Michael, but Ennard had saved both of them. He doubted they were going to leave them alone anytime soon.

Charlie tapped Michael's shoulder, garnering his attention. “They seem to not want anyone to find them, at least. Maybe we should tell everyone not to snoop around the vents?” She unclipped the walkie-talkie from her belt loop with one fluid motion and held it up.

“Oooh! Good thinking, Charlie!” Gregory said. Everyone listened to them as if they were from Administration regardless. Emboldened, Charlie pressed the speaker button and relayed the message.

“Hey, Staff, this is Ms. Emily—” She spoke professionally into the receiver, finding it weird to refer to herself in such a manner as she talked. “— Any and all maintenance on the air ducts are postponed until further notice. If you have any concerns, find myself or Mr. Afton.”

“Thanks—that should help a lot,” Michael agreed, flashing Charlie a grateful smile. After a short pause, they rounded around to Rockstar Row, hearing the various staff copy her well-put message.

Nearing Freddy's room, they could see that he'd opened the curtain for the first time since the other night. It allowed the glowing, fluorescent lighting of Rockstar Row to filter into the room, which was noticeably cleaner than when they'd left. Apparently, this is how Freddy had been entertaining himself in their absence. When he caught sight of them, Freddy waved enthusiastically and moved to open his door.

“Hello, you three!” he greeted with a smile, ushering them inside. “Gregory says you have been enjoying your time together!”

“Yeah, he's a great kid,” Michael said, a bit absently. He was looking around Freddy's room, clearly searching for something, and upon Freddy's question of what that might be the android responded: “I'm looking for a vent big enough to fit a certain someone...”

“Ah, check the back storage room,” Freddy replied, inclining his head to the door. With a thankful nod, Michael followed his instructions and went into the back room, soon locating a large vent near the top of a shelving unit.

“Hey!” Michael hissed, looking into the darkness. “I know you're in there—come here for a second, will you?”

And oh, how Ennard wasted no time rushing to Michael's beck and call. The way Ennard moved sounded like a rain-stick made of aluminum. When their form finally passed half the threshold of the air duct, Ennard let out a frighteningly loud, “MIKEY!” in greeting.

“WE HAVE MISSED YOU... HOW IS CHILD-MICHAEL?” Ennard asked, apparently not quite catching Gregory's name, but associating him with Mike nevertheless. They tilted their head, sporadic and unpredictable with their movements. It seemed almost painful to move in such a way as they fitted their parts in the right place, slowly morphing their shape back into that of a crude person.

“Ugh...” Michael grimaced, hating how Ennard moved on principle. “Gregory is fine; you don't need to pay him any mind.”

As little contact as those two had, the better in Michael's eyes.

“I'm not sure how much you heard over all your scuttling, but you're freaking people out,” Michael informed the amalgamation, crossing his arms over his chest. He was less wary of Ennard than he'd been before, although despite what Ennard might want they'd certainly never be best friends—or friends at all, if Mike had any real say in the matter. “We've told staff to leave the vents alone for now, but can you... tone it down at all? The scraping can be chalked up to something else, but the honking is suspicious as hell.”

Michael gave up the idea of telling Ennard to be silent long ago. Without a plush suit to cushion the wires scraping the metal vents, they'd make noise no matter where they went. Even with Charlie's instructions people were still going to notice strange sounds, so hopefully Michael's request to not give the impression of a clown in the ventilation system would help ease the staff's nerves in the long run.

Ennard looked away in a bashful motion, their eye's twitching in place, seemingly thinking over Michael's words.

“WE SEE YOU... HAVING FUN. IT MAKES US HAPPY. WE WISH WE COULD...” Ennard trailed off, avoiding the topic of their own happiness before trying to listen to the request. It would be hard, keeping track of the group and also staying silent while moving. The excited honking happened when they felt secondhand joy while watching the three siblings play together.

“THE GIRL... CASSIDY... WANTS TO MAKE SURE... FAMILY IS SAFE.” Ennard explained further why their presence was so intrusive. It may be true, though even as Ennard's tendrils slithered around Michael's legs it was hardly convincing.

“...Ah.” That added a little more explanation as to why Ennard wanted to stick around so often. It was hard for Michael to think of them as anything but the creature that destroyed his life, but Ennard was just a collection of robotic parts and their AIs who wanted to be free and apparently make some friends.

That was the whole point of taking over Michael's body, after all—a twisted attempt to escape from the place they were literally being tortured, and Mike had seemed like the perfect candidate. Disguising as a human was a good way to talk to other people, but... obviously that didn't quite work out as expected. Feeling the cold wires against his legs, Michael quickly dislodged himself, though he resisted the urge to stomp on them as he did before.

Okay, he stomped once, but he missed the mark by such a wide margin it was questionable whether he actually meant to cause damage.

“Alright, well... you can tell Cassidy that we appreciate the lookout—we're okay for now,” he said eventually, trying not to dwell on Ennard's earlier comment. He shoved his hands in his pockets, huffing a sigh. “Just stay out of sight like you have been, alright? That's all I want.”

Ennard seemed to visibly deflate at his disconnection. They shuffled in place a bit, wringing their hands a little as they hunched their shoulders. They would have to find some way to make themselves quiet.

Ennard looked down at their body. Were they really that frightening to the others? They were made of such beloved characters! With the charm of Funtime Foxy, Funtime Freddy’s friendly attitude, Bon-Bon's optimism, and Ballora’s beauty and grace… Who could ask for a more well-rounded friend?

Sadly, all of their personalities conflicted. That was why they came off as unstable—because by nature, they were. Even if the things they had done made sense in their head, it was like four people trying to brush their hair at once with the same comb. Everyone had the right idea, yet the execution would always be impossible.

“WE WILL FIX OURSELVES…,” Ennard offered slowly. Hoping maybe changing despite the pain it put them through would help alleviate the issue. “ENNARD WILL BECOME QUIETER. THANK YOU… MIKE…”

Michael watched them go with a frown, wondering exactly what “fixing themselves” entailed. Then, he realized that he didn't care enough to know, so he turned on his heel and headed back to the warm comfort of Freddy's room. Gregory was sitting on the couch, in the middle of regaling Freddy with the tale of how he'd been viciously attacked by his siblings at the breakfast table. The bear sat next to Gregory and listened with rapt interest, a smile brightening up his face as Charlie laughed at Gregory's version of events from her spot on the floor.

“Have you gotten to the part where Charlie has a horrible case of cooties yet?” Michael asked, perching on the couch. As he waited for an answer, he proceeded to slide the boy over with his hip and a few gentle shoves to make room, thus essentially sandwiching Gregory between himself and Freddy. This made Gregory gasp in realization.

“RIGHT—that wasn’t even the worst part! You need to medical scan me, Freddy!” Gregory said with a concerning whine. Before Freddy could actually have time to react, Gregory added as if embarrassed to admit: “Charlie gave me cooties… I think I might’ve given them to Michael—”

Charlie had to intervene. She leaned over the back of the couch and turned that little face towards her, gaining the boy’s full attention.

“Gregory… Cooties aren’t real. You know that, right?” she asked, hoping that Gregory had been joking. Was that the real reason he’d been afraid of Cassidy? Because of a made up girl-disease? Gregory didn’t answer, just waved Charlie off.

“She’s gonna do it again!” he shouted, falling over to escape Charlie’s touch and subsequently falling with his back impacting Michael’s lap.

“Charlie is correct,” Freddy felt the need to add, also unsure if Gregory truly believed in the made up virus. He focused on Gregory, conducting a quick health scan anyway for good measure. With a smile, Freddy assured: “And even if it was, real, my sensors do not indicate the presence of any virus within your body.” His gaze shifted to Mike and he performed the same scan. “…Nor on Michael; you are both safe.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” Michael replied with a snicker, unable to stop himself. Maybe he shouldn’t be encouraging his little brother’s fear of harmless fake diseases, but he had to admit Gregory’s faces were priceless.

“You lied to me…” Gregory hissed, feigning hurt and betrayal as he glared up at Michael. Charlie laughed at the boys, the doofuses they were, and leaned on Freddy’s shoulder. She'd also seemed to miss the bear and decided to give him a hug.

“Gregory, despite his grotesque cootie infection, volunteered to help me win some tickets!” she explained with an excited outlook, then looked sweetly to the bear. “Want to come with us to the Arcade?”

“I simply encouraged your delusion, Gregory,” Michael responded matter-of-factly. He ruffled the boy’s hair, completely unfazed by his glare as he looked to Freddy with a raised eyebrow. “So? Want to get out of here and have some fun for a bit?”

“I would love that,” Freddy said, gently letting his head fall against Charlie’s as she hugged him around the neck. “But I was told to stay in my room all day… you do not think my absence would cause problems?”

“Not with us by your side it won’t.” Michael chuckled, the force of it slightly bouncing Gregory who still laid in his lap. “Most of the staff is afraid to even look at me—I doubt anyone’s going to ask me why I’ve decided to take an animatronic out for a stroll with the family.”

Gregory’s frown slowly faded when he remembered how much more frightened of Michael’s potential wrath than that of the mysterious noises in the vents. He would silently snicker to himself. During the daytime, they owned this whole place. It’s a shame it all changed at night. They’d be kids in a candy shop to have this while place unsupervised. That was the goal when Gregory snuck inside… How was he to know what to expect next?

“Yeah! If we run into Sophie, we’ll tell her we’re running uh… Routine customer interactivity tests. And Gregory’s our test subject!” Charlie assured.

“Well, I certainly cannot argue with that plan,” Freddy said with laughter in his eyes. It was strange how his physical features hadn’t changed over the past few days, yet Freddy seemed so much more expressive now. He gave Charlie’s head a light pat and she released her hug, after which Freddy stood. “Which arcade are we going to? There are multiple locations throughout the Pizzaplex.”

“We want to visit the West Arcade; we haven’t been there yet,” Michael replied as he gripped Gregory under the shoulders and hoisted the boy off his lap, letting his legs dangle in the air for a moment before setting him down on the floor with a grin.

Freddy perked up at Michael’s words, his face brightening even more than before. Now that they were in the relative safety of daytime, perhaps they could meet an animatronic that wasn’t immediately hell-bent on killing them on sight. “Oh, you all will love the West Arcade! We can visit DJ Music Man while we are there!”

Michael frowned at this, recalling the nervous staff’s comment from earlier. “Yeah, we heard he likes to go in the vents…?”

“Ah, that is Music Man—related, but not quite the same.” Freddy chuckled, making his way for the door. “The DJ is different—and such a nice fellow!”

Charlie perked up at the promise of a DJ. She’d always been a music lover, and the chance to kick back with some familiar tunes they grew up with would just make her day. Well, other than acquiring the highly sought after Deluxe Fazbag. Rounding around the couch to Charlie’s side, Gregory found and matched her energy.

“Alright, bet!” he replied. The idea of meeting another friendlier animatronic wouldn’t hurt the day. Besides, Freddy was in desperate need of seeing one (even temporarily) non-infected friend, too.

“Well? What are we waiting for! Let’s go get us some tickets and watch the DJ play!” Charlie urged.

Today felt dreamier. Everything so vividly sweet and going their way. Charlie wouldn’t dare jinx it by dwelling on her happiness in the moment. So she’d keep her mouth shut and head for the door, giddy with anticipation.

***

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The Photographer female!oc x Tom Kaulitz. Chapter 1 -The Meeting- + Intro

The story of a girl falling for a guitarist.

Introducing Prue, played by Katie Douglas. Prue starts off 16, freshly away from home wanting to start a career in photography.

The band, Tokio hotel. The twins will be 18, Gustav 19 and Georg 21. They'll meet Prue and get pretty close with her. Accepting her as one of their own. Translations for them will be bold italic text.

Ever since leaving home Prue had started traveling, enjoying her time on the road. This particular day she found a festival. According to the posters a famous band and some small artists would be playing. It was a place where even artists like herself into painting and photography could share their work with others.

"Tokio Hotel?" She spoke to herself as she read one of the posters. She got her camera from her van before she headed into the festival. However on her way in she ran into a tall boy with dreads and brown eyes, his lip piercing stuck out to her as she stared for a moment before hearing the boy speak with a thick German accent.

"Take a picture it'll last longer" her eyes quickly dart to his. "I- wha- shit, sorry. I saw the piercing and it caught my eye"

The boy grinned at her "it catches many people's eyes. Especially fans." He raised a brow towards Prue and she just looked confused. "Fans?" She asked as she adjusted how she held her camera.

The boy was caught off guard, she didn't know who he was? "Don't worry about it. Nice to meet you though, I'm Tom." He offers to shake her hand and she hesitantly does so.

"Uh, likewise. I'm Prue" his hands were softer than expected, they felt quite nice despite having a couple blisters.

After the meeting Prue went to get a look at the artist's at the festival. They all had such good work. She felt like hers could never compare but she just smiled. 'I still have years to gain experience and get better, that's not a bad thing.' She thought to herself as she made her way around.

Prue even starts conversations with other artists. "Wow, so you use glass to make all these?" She asked one artist.

"How do you get this crisp look in your photos?" She asked another.

She continued on asking questions and made a couple friends at the festival until the concert was about to start. She was curious about the group, who wouldn't be? She heard some chatter, girls were swooning over the band, two boys in particular. But over all it seemed each of the band had their own fans.

The band was about to perform so she headed on over, she managed to get a front seat. Prue was curious to see if they were any good. She actually had her camera ready to record and take pictures. 'They're probably about looks and not music quality." She was pulled from her own mind when she heard "And now presenting, Tokio Hotel!"

The crowd went absolutely nuts. 'Wow they have a lot of fans...' she thought to herself as she turned to look at all the fans. She then turned back to the stage to see what all the hype was about.

Her eyes immediately darted to the stage where she recognized the boy she ran into. 'Holy shit that's Tom...HE'S FAMOUS!?' She thought to herself as her eyes were locked on him. She had run into the guitarist of a famous boy band and didn't even know till now.

Prue had zoned out watching the boy on stage, he was talented. This performance would make for some good photos. It wasn't until she locked eyes with Tom that she realized he had been staring back. Her eyes dart away quickly earning a smirk from Tom as he played with the band.

He noticed her camera and his eyes flickered to it, attempting to tell her to get some pictures. It took Prue a couple seconds to register what he was trying to do. 'SHIT RIGHT I'M A PHOTOGRAPHER!' She thought to herself as she grabbed her camera quickly.

Soon enough the girl was taking pictures, not just of Tom but of the whole band. The way they just go together was impressive to her. They looked nice on camera, she'd have to find a way to give them the photos she took.

After the concert she went to head to her van but she's caught off guard by her arm being grabbed. "Hey, let go of me!" She tried to yank away and even elbow the person but she's met with "Woah there princess, it's just your favorite muse." The boy joked as he grinned at her.

She quickly realized it was Tom and she rolled her eyes."Give a girl warning why don't ya. Also- why the hell didn't you tell me who you are?" She began rambling and Tom just stood looking down at her listening for a moment.

"Are you done yet?" He raised a brow towards the girl and watched as she realized. "I- yea. For now anyway." She spoke as she crossed her arms. "So, what do you want?"

Tom pointed at the camera "I wanna check out your work. Maybe even get lucky, who knows these days."

"Oh- right, the pictures I took" she grabbed her camera as she realized what he followed up with. Her face felt hot and burned red as she looked up at him. She was met with him raising his brows as he played with the lip piercing he had.

"Flustered?" He spoke as he carefully scoops the camera from her, she didn't protest him taking the camera but immediately denied being flustered. "What? No. I don't get flustered."

"Your cheeks say otherwise." He poked her cheek as he went through the camera. "These are really fucking good....are you self taught? You don't look older than me."

She swatted his hand away as she spoke. "Yea. It caught my interest and I kind of just...went with it."

"Do you make money from it?" He asked curiously as he continued going through the camera, impressed with her work.

"No..no one wants to hire a high school dropout. So it's just a hobby."

"Uh-huh." Tom spoke slowly before glancing at her. "Work for the band. I'll have to talk to them...but we need a good photographer. One who understands us and isn't older than dirt."

"I- what- no I couldn't ask that of yo-" she didn't even get to finish, Tom interrupted her.

"You aren't asking. I am. You fit the bill for what we need. Bonus is that you're cute."

Prue stood there staring at the boy, was she really about to agree to work for a famous band?

"So what do you say? Yes or no princess?"

It took some convincing but she eventually agreed. Tom carefully dragged her backstage with him. She felt eyes slowly turn to look at her, the band and their crew.

"I want you to meet someon-"

"Tom, I thought we agreed no bringing your girl toys backstage." The dark haired boy spoke and Tom rolled his eyes, handing the boy Prue's camera.

"Just look at the work she does." He pointed at Prue. "She's around our age and does work like that. We need a photographer and we don't have to worry about her being too weird."

The dark haired boy called the others over and they all started whispering in German back and forth. Prue just stood listening despite not knowing what they were saying.

Finally, Tom grinned and looked at her. "You're hired. Soooo meet Bill, Gustav and Georg."

Prue looks between them. "Nice to meet you... I'm Prue." The five started speaking and the boys warmed up quickly to her. Her and Tom had flirted back and forth the whole time before they headed to the hotel.

"I don't have a hotel room...or money to stay in one I usually stay in my van." She looked between the boys and Tom spoke up.

"Don't worry, you can stay with me." He smirked at her, having one thing in mind. Prue knew exactly what it was and truthfully didn't mind. He was cute, and she hasn't had the chance to be with anyone in that way since before she left home.

"Sounds like a plan." She grinned at him and motions for him to lead the way.

The other boys fake gag and Georg spoke. "Just try and be quiet." Tom laughs and quickly drags Prue to his room.

Prue happily follows Tom while the others head to their respective rooms.

She was swiftly pulled into a room, Tom closes the door quickly and carefully pushes her against it, immediately getting to business.

Tom started trailing kisses on her neck, up to her face where Prue connected their lips. The way his lips were soft and efficient, the metal of his piercing against her own lips. She lost herself in the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck as the two stumbled to the bed.

They got lost in each other's touch. They prioritized the other's pleasure making it rather enjoyable for the two. The two were loud but not in a way that was an inconvenience for others. Just loud enough for one another. Both experienced in their own ways they enjoyed their time till they were both finished.

Prue laid in bed with Tom, wrapped in the sheets as she let herself wind down. "We should probably get cleaned up." Prue spoke as she sat up. Usually girls were getting dressed and leaving by now. But Prue would actually be staying the night.

"Go get a shower, I'll go ahead and change the sheets and shower after you." He tosses her, her underwear and one of his shirts seeing as she didn't bring her bags in from her van.

"Thanks." She smiles slightly before slipping out of the bed to go shower. While she was in, Tom changed the sheets on the bed and grabbed an extra blanket in case she wanted or needed it.

By the time Tom was showered and out, Prue was already asleep on the bed. She fell asleep holding a scrapbook she was making. He carefully took the scrapbook, placing it safely on the bedside table before climbing into bed with Prue.

She migrated towards his warmth, he didn't mind he just carefully held her. It was nice having someone in his bed for the night. Just peacefully sleeping and seeking warmth. She looked so soft and fragile when she slept. He thought it was cute.

A thought crossed his mind.'What if I fall for her?' He shook his head knocking the idea out quickly. 'That would ruin everything if it got messy.' He thought to himself before finally drifting off to sleep, with Prue in his arms.

Through the night Prue clung to Tom. Sure she had some bad dreams but that wasn't why. She just liked the contact, not being alone. It was comforting, so why let go? Tom had also clung to her, they enjoyed each other's company despite being asleep. There was just something about not being alone at night.

Tom was the first to wake up in the morning. He didn't move in fear of waking Prue up but he started to feel her stir. He watched for a moment making sure she was ok.

When she finally woke up she was met with Tom looking at and holding her. "Morning sunshine. Sleep well?" She let out a groggy groan as she sat up.

"What time is it?" She spoke as she rubbed her eyes. "Around 9. Why? In a hurry to leave?"

She couldn't help but chuckle "no. However it is way to fucking early for this bullshit."

"I have to agree but we have stuff to do today." He spoke as he got up to get dressed. "You'll probably have to go grab some clothes from your van."

"Yea, good point." She chuckled as she got up. "I'll be right back." She grinned before running to her van where she just grabbed her bags before she ran back.

The two got dressed and Prue quickly brushed her hair and threw on some mascara. "So what exactly do we have to do today?"

"You'll see." Tom spoke as he soon began leading her to the others. Prue didn't like she wasn't being told what they were doing but she trusted Tom, so she went along.

"TA-DA!" All four members of the band spoke and Prue stared blankly at them.

"The beach...?" She was confused. What did they have to do at the beach that was so important?

|| Authors Note: I'm trying to make these decently long so there's actually content. Also I will try and keep it PG-13 for now. I won't write smut even though they sleep together, Prue is a minor. This fic will also span over 5 years so you'll see each character grow. In some later chapters other members of the band will be included more as well. They're just as important. This will also eventually involve pregnancy, specifically teen pregnancy. But it's not a drop and go. You'll see them evolve as parents and the child won't be their whole personality. I plan to just build on them. Ty for reading! ||

[tranquil-turbulence]

SS Month ‘23 - Day 18

Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19

Prompt: 1920′s

WARNING(S): N/A

The band was swinging and the air was light and jazzy at the dance hall, dozens of bodies moving and chattering and laughing together. Skirts swished daintily and heeled shoes clacked against the hardwood floor. Some remained at the margins of the crowd, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves, while the more confident moved along the middle with their partners, carefree and happy.

Nineteen-year-old Sasuke Uchiha sipped his punch quietly, eyeing the crowd. It wasn’t every day that he could come to a dance hall for some fun, yet now that he was here it didn’t feel as exciting as it had when he was getting dressed up earlier. None of his friends were here, least of all others of his social circle. Tonight it seemed the middle class youth had gathered, with very few of the upper class. His father, a strict businessman, would surely balk at the crowd, imploring him to mingle with “better company”.

As his wandering gaze crawled across the crowd, his posture momentarily straightened as he caught a glimpse of pink hair. There was a cluster of girls huddled together, giggling and talking, and among them was one with a peculiar coloring - tanned skin, bright green eyes, and- that hair. It was ridiculously pink. Yet she was clad in a very pretty sparkling red dress that brought out the color of her tresses, brought up in a stylish bun. Her dancing partner, a blonde, he recognized; the heiress of the Yamanaka family. The pink one was less pronounced in his mind, yet he’d seen her once or twice in her father’s tailor shop.

Downing the rest of his punch, he set down the cup and made his way to the center of the room. Eyes casually turned to glimpse him and then turned into double-takes, whispers beginning to circle the hall.

By the time he made his way to that pink-haired young lady, her friends were openly staring at him, and so was she - but she was surprised, and intrigued.

“Hello,” he began, stopping in front of her.

“Good evening,” she responded, automatically trying to curtsy - before remembering the dress she wore and straightening back up with a flush of her cheeks. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, Sasuke Uchiha.”

“I had some free time and decided to see what was happening in town.” With a shrug, he extended his hand. “Care for a dance?”

The blonde and her other friends began whispering, and Sakura blinked slowly.

“She would love to,” Ino gushed, not-so-discreetly pushing her towards him a bit.

Fumbling with her words a bit, the girl finally nodded and took his hand. Her evening gloves were satiny against his hands, a pleasant touch as he wrapped his fingers around her own and tugged her further into the circle of dancers.

“So,” she started, twirling with him to the beat of the music, “I didn’t expect you of all people to want me as a partner.”

He shrugged. “You stand out in a crowd. I wanted to see who, exactly, would be so bold in color.”

Sakura’s cheeks flushed a pink that matched her hair. She pouted a little and turned her face slightly away. “My hair is natural. I get it from my father’s side.”

“Your hair wasn’t the only thing to catch my eye. Your dress is well-made. Where did you get it?”

As she twirled, the sparkling fabric swished against her knees and her straps were soft with - what was that? Feathers? Fur? Some cheer returned to her expression as she stated proudly, “I made it myself. I’m glad you like it.”

“You made this?” Now he was intrigued. He eyed the scalloped ends and trailed his gaze up until it met the boxy neckline.

“My mother is a tailor by trade; she taught me everything I know. I’ve been working on this for months.” As the music faded to a stop, she too came to a stop. Stooping to rest with her hands on her knees for a few moments, she caught her breath and straightened up again. “Well, that was fun. Thanks for the dance.”

“Would… would you like to go again?”

The incredulity in her eyes was slowly replaced with excitement, and she nodded with a beaming smile. Her hand slipped in his again, squeezing with a surprising firmness.