#go commission her!! she made this really easy and seamless :)

[messers-moony]

Someday | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: The Handler kidnaps Five’s wife in hopes of him coming for her, yet he never does.

Request: Well I'd like to order a FiveXWifeReader but I'm afraid you're full of orders and I don't want to get in the way🤧

She sighed, “ This is bloody exhausting, ya’ know? “ 

“ Well, maybe if you hadn’t abandoned the commission, this wouldn’t be happening, Mrs.Hargreeves. “ The older woman spoke. 

The eighteen-year-old girl was tied to a chair. It had been approximately five years since her and Five’s last run-in with the commission after doomsday in 1963. Why they had decided to get them back on their side is unknown.  

“ So Y/n, how does it feel? “ The adult woman taunted, “ Your taunting doesn’t work on me. “ Y/n retorted with boredom. 

Nonetheless, the adult woman held a glass of whiskey, “ Whiskey? You have absolutely no taste. “ Y/n commented, and the woman rose her eyebrow, “ Really now? What would you prefer? Rum? Perhaps moonshine? “ 

“ Vodka, straight. “ Y/n snapped, “ What a tough cookie you are. “ The Handler cooed. 

“ I’m not thirteen anymore. “ The young girl replied, “ It appears so. “ The Handler stated. 

Y/n scoffed quietly, “ What’s the plan here? Why have you kidnapped me instead of one of your pawns? “ 

“ Well, hun, you know more than anyone that this task isn’t easy. It’s easiest for me to get this job done myself. “ The commission superior answered, “ In case you’ve forgotten, I willingly did this. “ Y/n informed. 

“ I know. You did it to protect your precious Five and your sibling in-laws. What brilliant timing of mine. “ She boasted inconspicuously, “ Ah, so that was your plan. Get me at a moment where I’d willingly let you have me. So smart. “ Y/n rolled her eyes as the sarcastic comment rolled off her tongue. 

The Handler winked at her, causing her to scoff again. Getting kidnapped wasn’t necessarily on her to-do list, but Five needed time, and she couldn’t let his siblings get hurt. Truthfully, getting kidnapped by the Handler wasn’t torture. It was just irritating with the constant belittling comments. 

It was a tedious thing to go through. Five wasn’t around when she did it. Otherwise, the Handler would’ve been shot dead by now. How she managed to come back after the barn incident, she knew not. What she did know was she was threatening her husband's siblings. 

The Handler paced with her cup of whiskey, “ What's it like? “ 

“ Pardon? “

“ What’s it like being married to him? “ The commission superior queried, “ That’s none of your concern. “ Y/n snapped. 

“ Does drinking make you sentimental? “ The Hargreeves girl narrowed her eyes, “ And for what’s it’s worth, Five and I are just fine. “ 

The Handler pondered, “ So where is he? “ 

“ Hell, if I know. I’m only here because I wasn’t letting you take Claire. “ Y/n replied, “ What is the little girl to you? “

“ Five’s niece. “ She answered, “ His pride and joy. “ 

“ Do I hear bitterness? “ The Handler teased, “ No, you don’t, you blithering idiot. “ Y/n retorted, annoyed. 

Hours went by of annoying banter that, frankly, Y/n didn’t have time for. It would only be a matter of time before Five noticed her disappearance. The last thing he needed on his mind at the moment was the reappearance of the Handler. So when the commission superior left, Y/n began her escape. 

The girl flicked a knife from her back pocket, “ You’d think for a commission superior she’d be a tad bit smarter. “ Y/n rolled her eyes as she cut off her restraints. 

Even the assassins who had kidnapped her beforehand took her knife off her. Maybe they just knew her better. Since the apocalypse, Y/n always had a knife or some form of sharp object in her back left pocket. It was something she nicked from Diego in the apocalypse. She never told Five where it came from. 

So when Diego was almost hit with one of his knives while fighting her after arriving in 2019, he was astonished. Her aim was impeccable and seamless. Possibly better than Diego’s. Nevertheless, a sharp object was always on her person. 

Running out of the motel and towards the academy was easy. All that walking she did really came in handy when needing to stay in shape. Despite being a master at her power– telekinesis, she still trained countless days. Five and her would spar. An activity that kept them together. 

Knocking on the wooden door to the academy, a nine-year-old girl opened the door, “ Auntie Y/n! “ She yelled, hugging her aunt tightly, “ Hey sweet. “ Y/n replied. 

“ So, where have you been? “ A male voice queried, making her look up, and Claire let go, “ We can talk about it later, I promise. “ Y/n replied, not wanting to talk about it in front of Claire. 

He sighed, “ Fine. “ 

“ Thanks, love. “ Y/n smiled gratefully, “ Yeah, whatever. Claire, you should go see the cookies Grace made. “ Five smiled softly at the little girl. 

“ Okay. “ Claire responded, walking away. 

Once she was out of eyesight, Five embraced his wife closely, “ I was worried. “ His voice held so much concern and love it made her heart melt, “ I tried to be fast. “ She answered. 

“ What happened? “ 

And so she explained everything. From top to bottom, she informed him on everything she learned, which wasn’t too much but enough to know for now. But when she brought up the fact she went willingly, the look in his eye was not one any person would want to cross. 

“ She threatened to take Claire. Or one of your siblings. So I went willingly. I watched her tie my hands and tie me to a chair. “ Y/n informed, “ You voluntarily decided to get kidnapped to save my family? “ Five questioned, not meeting her eyes any longer. 

She shrugged, “ Perhaps. “ 

“ You choose the right woman. “ Diego announced from the steps, and Five had a prideful smile present, “ Don’t get too full of yourself, Hargreeves. “ Y/n replied, playfully walking away towards the kitchen. 

“ What's it like? “ Diego questioned his brother, “ Excuse me? “ Five responded. 

Diego turned to look at Y/n and Claire in the kitchen, “ What’s it like being married to her? “ 

“ Well, it’s- “ Five couldn’t find the right words, “ It’s like coffee. “ 

“ The meaning is? “ Number two inquired, “ Well, some days it’s like hot and cold others it could be warm. It depends on the day and how the person feels. “ Five answered. 

It was silent for a minute as Five watched Y/n happily talk with Claire about something. She looked absolutely stunning. Her eyes shined as Claire spoke passionately about the topic. Maybe that’s why she liked Y/n so much, because she listened to her no matter the subject. 

Diego swallowed, “ Do you want kids? “

The question took Five a long moment to ponder. He wasn’t expecting that question in the slightest. Sometimes he forgets that he’s already lived his life and is still mentally sixty-three. Sometimes he prefers to act like an actual eighteen-year-old. 

“ Someday. “ 

[dreadhaus-literature]

{Story} “IT’S ME.“

ITSMEITSMEITSMEMONICAITSMEITSMEITSME.

“But why hasn’t he called?”

Monica shifted her phone to her shoulder, pinning it to her ear to better hear the response of her coworker as she padded into her kitchen in search of something sweet to eat and treat herself with. It had been a long day at Fazbear Entertainment, as most days often were, but having a coworker she was close to helped immensely.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t, but I called,” came the quiet response, but there was an underlying rumble of jealousy that Monica had come to expect from Tod. “That...should count.”

“It does,” Monica replied with an easy, good-natured laugh. She was used to Tod Lakhani’s somewhat hostile treatment of other men in her life; he was protective, overly so, and incredibly sweet...if not a touch on the possessive side considering they were just friends. Monica would date him instead of Zacharie if she thought she could survive the smoldering intensity that lay behind Tod’s two-toned eyes. “It counts so much.”

That seemed to appease Tod, because when he spoke again, his deep voice wasn’t full of biting teeth. “He said he’d call tonight?”

“Yes! Well,” Monica stopped to give it a second thought, green eyes sightlessly perusing the contents of her fridge as she concentrated. “Not exactly, but things have been going really well, and--”

“You don’t have to explain.” Tod interjected gently. “Even if you didn’t have a standing phone date, it’s common courtesy to keep in touch. If it were me, I’d call you every day.”

“Tod,” Monica’s laughter returned. “You do call me every day.”

Tod didn’t even flinch. “Damn right I do.”

The night air outside Monica’s home was balmy, a hint of sunlight still trapped in the invisible gusts as they whispered and wound their way through leaves and branches. A storm had come through the night before and the remnants of the wind rushed along the side of her house and as it went it disturbed the thin, blond and white strands of hair of the “man” hidden in plain sight right outside her window.

Two-toned eyes, one sky blue, the other the color of arterial spray, were riveted to Monica’s movements, following her as she walked around her kitchen in her pajamas. A slight whirring sound could be heard as the eyes moved, hinting to the intricate wiring hidden beneath both artificial and stolen skin. The “man” had no use for breathing and thus made no other sounds as he watched the object of his undying affections talk on the phone. There was nothing that could distract or disturb him from his task, his objective solely to catalog every moment of her that he possibly could, filling the kilobytes of storage inside his head that already had countless hours of her stored, locked lovingly against the still, stolen heart in his chest. That searing red eye memorized her walk patterns while the mesmerizing blue eye drank in every glimpse of her satin soft skin. Slowly, he raised his hand, sagging flesh pressing flat against the window as if he could breach the distance and feel for himself; the nerves in the flesh didn’t work but the cold metal beneath, did. He knew she’d be warm to the touch in ways he could never be, but...well, he hoped what he’d done would make that better. He’d tried.

For her, Ennard really, really tried.

Ding dong.

Monica turned, brow furrowing, as her doorbell echoed down her front hall. Tod was still talking as she pulled her phone from her ear, the time 9:33PM illuminated at the top of the smartphone screen. Who the fuck was at her door at this hour?

“...Tod, hang on, someone’s at my door. Can I call you back?”

“No, but you can take me with you to answer the door.”

Monica bit back a smile. She was normally not one to like being told what to do, but Tod phrased his protective “demands” in a way that was pleasing, not scolding or belittling. He always came from a place of loving concern and she was grateful for it, especially now. There was a slight pinch of unease at the pit of her stomach as the doorbell chimed again but realistically, it was probably just a neighbor with something benign. Monica replaced her phone to her ear, making her way down her dimly lit front hall toward her front door. There was silence on the other side of the wall of wood, but what did she expect, honestly? Someone to be banging a gong, shouting “TOP OF MORNING,” like some sort of Irish lunatic?

“Who is it?”

Monica hesitated for a split second before she stretched up on her tip toes, pressing her face gingerly against the solid wood of her door to peer through the peep hole. As soon as she did, she breathed a side of relief, seeing blond hair and blue eyes illuminated on her front porch.

“It’s Zach,” she told Tod, her pulse slowing. “I guess he decided to come over instead of call?”

“...I guess I won’t eat him today, then.” Tod resigned. “But if he upsets you again, that’s the dinner bell for Ol’ Zach.”

Monica laughed. Tod didn’t.

“I’ll leave you to him, then.” Tod didn’t try to hide his reluctance or disappointment, but there was a small smile in his voice. “Good night, honey.”

“Good night, Tod. See you tomorrow?” Monica couldn’t help the hope in her voice, even as she reached for the deadbolt to unlock her door.

“Wouldn’t miss you for the world.”

The line going dead was heard even as Monica was pulling the phone away from her ear, lifting her head to give Zacharie a smile. “Hey, it’s a little late to show up without calling but--”

Monica cut herself off as Zacharie lifted his head, her blood turning to ice in her veins as her phone clattered to the floor in shock. He was smiling at her, but it was the most unnatural smile she’d ever seen in her life. He looked...thrilled to see her, the smile stretching his lips so wide she was worried they might split at the seams--seam being the literal use of the word, since it seemed his face was sewn together down the middle. Zacharie looked...taller, at least two feet taller than she remembered and as he ducked into her doorway, she nearly fell backward to get out of his way. His joints creaked, and if she focused passed the terrified pounding of her heart in her ears, she could hear a slight whirring, mechanical sound every time he moved. His steps were heavy, thudding against the wood of her floor and as he came closer, the light from her entryway cast him in horrible relief. His blond hair was only half it’s usual tawny sunshine; the left side of his head was a wispy silver, as if the pigment had died and withered away...and speaking of death...that half of his face was much paler than the right side, the pasty white flesh drawing her attention up to a red eye--not blue. It gleamed at her, raked over her like a laser and seared her as it did so, as if she could feel each pass intensely.

No...No, there was no fucking way--

“Mon-ica,” ‘Zacharie’s’ voice was not his voice, not even close. This voice sounded deeper, clearer, like a scalpel’s edge against metal right at the center of an echo chamber. It reverberated off her ribcage, wrapped itself around her heart like livewires to cinch tight and steal her breath right from her lungs. She’d only ever heard her name sound so broken and mechanical over artificial intelligence, as if she were asking Google to pronounce her name aloud and she had a horrible, horrible feeling she knew what she was dealing with.

“S-Stay back!” Monica gestured with her hands out in front of her, backing further into her front hall to put distance between herself and this strange creature wearing Zacharie’s face.

‘Zacharie’ tilted his head at her, the smile sliding off his face but he didn’t listen, taking a few thundering steps after her. “What...What’s wrong?”

“L-Look I don’t know who the fuck y-you are but--”

‘Zacharie’ swept out his arms, that whirring sound mixing with the pull of skin over something other than bone and Monica was drawn to his hands, long fingers ending in sharp, unnatural points that appeared almost sharp. His gesture was meant to be a mimicry of one she’d seen a million times, a motion of obvious ‘take a look’ but it was off-kilter, incorrect, as if he wasn’t human enough to pull it off.

“It’s me,” ‘Zacharie’ insisted, his arms still splayed wide. “Monica...it’s me.”

The second time he said her name was much smoother than the first, and all the more unnerving for it. It sounded as if he was learning.

“Y-You...” Monica’s voice died, failed her as the machine wearing Zacharie’s skin drew closer and she could see the porcelain mask lying beneath the skin of it’s “face”. The baby blue eye she’d though was Zacharie’s wasn’t his at all. It belonged to a ghost, a silly office urban legend, a joke told by coworker’s to scare new hires.

Ennard. The skin-stealing, serial-killing rogue animatronic of Fazbear Entertainment lore.

Except Ennard wasn’t real. Monica had been a loyal Fazbear employee for years now, and she knew all the animatronics and she knew them well. After all, she was responsible for writing their cutesy backstories, and composing the lyrics to all the songs performed on Freddy Fazbear’s stage every night. She knew Circus Baby’s favorite flavor of ice cream was strawberry, that Freddy liked the color red, and that Chica’s favorite kind of pizza was any kind of pizza--why? Because she’d written it. Any new animatronics commissioned, she was brought in on the ground floor to help design them from their conception, to help a seamless integration with the rest of the Fazbear Family. Ennard wasn’t real, couldn’t be real, because she’d never heard of him outside of jokes and whispered rumors of him “haunting the vents” at night. Sure, there were the occasional office pranks where someone would fix a faulty animatronic overnight and “blame” Ennard by saying he did it but that was just a story. Ennard wasn’t real.

But...everything she’d heard about Ennard seemed to be staring her in the face. He had one good working eye, blue, and one factory-issued red retinal scanner (because he was discontinued and thus never given a full set of eyes) Ennard wore a porcelain mask over the wiring of his face, complete with a clown nose and while she didn’t see the clown nose she could definitely see the porcelain mask under the sagging skin stretched over his “face”. Ennard was immense in size, eight feet tall, as he was meant to be one of the “fatherly” figures of the Fazbear Family and had to stand comparable to what a child might imagine the father of the animatronics would look like. He was never given anything other than his facial mask so his massive body was a collection of wires and metal parts; rumors swirled that he changed them out at night in the factories, constantly working on and improving himself--because the scary resolution to all the stories was that he would one day rise up and kill the head of Fazbear Entertainment, put on his skin, and no one would ever know. Monica could recall all the times she’d laughed at the stories, enjoyed making some up herself just to watch her interns all jump every time an air vent made the slightest sound, but it wasn’t supposed to be real.

Ennard wasn’t supposed to be real!

“Do you...like it?” Ennard brought his long arms in, the mechanical whirring blending with the pull of cloth as his long fingers patted his stolen face. “I made it just for you.”

Oh god, Monica’s brain was processing information too fast for her to keep up with and her stomach roiled at the knowledge that her crush had his skin literally peeled off his body by the rogue animatronic Ennard.

“I thought you’d like me better this way.” Ennard lowered his hands from his face to adjust his bow-tie. His wiring might be covered beneath the cloth and stolen skin but he wasn’t going to lose everything that made him who he was. “If I looked like him. Like...Zacharie.”

Monica put shaking fingers over her mouth, shaking her head side to side in denial, but Ennard wasn’t very good at reading human emotion--at least, not yet.

“No?” His frown sagged almost comically, the skin around his mask drooping a little too low to be natural. “Is it the stitching?” Ennard’s fingers came up to his face as he turned to examine himself in her hallway mirror, eyes on the clean line holding two halves of the stolen face together. “I can make it better.” He nodded, pulling and pushing at the mask over his natural face. “I will make it better for you.”

“E-Ennard?” Monica’s voice was hoarse with emotion and it caught his attention immediately.

The whirring was audible in the silence as Ennard turned to her, his two-toned gaze nailing her to the floor. His body was stone still and it got so quiet she could hear herself near gasping around the adrenaline coursing through her system. For a few more seconds he said nothing, his gaze committing this moment to literal stored memory before he uttered, “Again,” in such hushed reverence Monica thought she misheard him.

“W-What?”

“Again.” This time it came out like a bullet, Ennard’s massive form closing the distance between them with such a powerful gait one of Monica’s decorative figurines rattled off a hallway table, clattering to the floor. Ennard’s fingers were cold, the skin only a slight barrier to the icy metal beneath as he cupped her face, his red eye bright enough to cast illumination on her face; she realized with a terrified shudder that he was recording this, their first meeting. “Say my name...again.”

Too terrified to deny him, Monica desperately swallowed until she got her voice back. “...E-Ennard...”

Ennard’s blue eye drifted closed, ecstasy clear on his stolen features, but that red eye remained open, recording so as not to miss a moment of this joyous, momentous occasion. With an unnatural, guttural sound, Ennard’s arms slid around her petite frame and he hunched over her, hugging her close, threatening to crush her as he had no inkling how to treat a fragile human body.

“We’re going to be so happy,” he enunciated his words, punctuating them as if he could speak them into reality--and for him, they already were. This was the happiest day of his life. “I knew you were the one. We all know how special you are.”

Monica didn’t need to know he was talking about the other animatronics, confirming another office rumor--that they were all sentient and very much aware of what was happening around them. It was an unspoken rule one treated the animatronics with respect and that rumor was 98% of the reason why.

Swallowing thickly, Monica couldn’t help noticing the sickly sweet scent of cologne against metal and if she...ignored she was hugging the leftover skin of the beginnings of her crush, it had an odd appeal to it. She turned slightly as she felt Ennard nuzzling his cheek against hers, as if trying to meld their skin together, to get closer, and considering Ennard had a penchant for enjoying being under someone’s skin...she could only imagine how close to her he really wanted to be.

“Zacharie was a mistake. A flaw in the system.” Ennard spoke of reality the way one might expect him to; he was an animatronic, a computer-built program who ran on simulations and based his reality on what was allowed inside his particular simulation. “I corrected the flaw. Now there’s nothing between us.”

“I-I don’t...u-understand.”

“You will.” Ennard promised, unaware of how that made Monica’s pulse spike in alarm. “Once I get you home, you’ll understand.”

“H-Home?” Monica tried to draw back but Ennard’s grip was, unsurprisingly, like iron. He was not allowing space between them, not anymore.

“Yes. Home, sweetheart.” Ennard tried out his first term of endearment and found he liked the way Monica’s skin warmed further when he used it. “We’re a Family now, and what’s a Family without their mother at home with us where she belongs?”

- - -

A/N: Hehe okay so author’s notes are tacky and I hate doing them BUT! I did want to add a few things here because this...was a doozy to try and write “quickly” and have it still make sense. I’m still trying to get back to writing and with that comes the fear I’m not describing things well or coherently because getting your thoughts back in that mindset takes practice, kind of like reeling them in so to speak. So if this is confusing I’m sorry!!

I just--oh right okay so first things, the “ITSMEITSME” up there, the intro line to the fic? It’s clickable, and shows the version of Ennard in his skin suit that I used as inspo, here.

I also just made up some rando to be your “crush” in here, love, since Ennard...was gonna take his skin, lmao, I didn’t wanna use anyone actually from the Haus.

Tod was a little cameo, so. 😋 That was just a little treat for you~

But basically what I tried to lay out here was an AU where you work for Fazbear Entertainment and Ennard has learned all about you from watching you in the vents, and from the other animatronics who all of course refer to you as their Mother as you’re the one who really created them. That makes him the Father to your Mother, and his infatuation with you reaches the point that he decides to kill your crush, take his skin, and win you over that way. Flawless plan is flawless, right? 10/10 in Ennard’s mind.

So I hope that wasn’t too confusing! I wanted to build suspense and mystery without revealing everything until the very end so I hope it wasn’t like ??? the whole time, lmao. I just wanted to write something that features a little bit of creepy, a lot of obsession, and I know how much you love Ennard’s “skin suit” from Sister Location so I thought, perfect combo!

Thanks for letting the weirdos love yoooooou 😘 i’m including myself in that bunch, too, because Senpai is perfect and i am a lucky ducky. 💛

[texanredrose]

Communication is Key

A commission for @psychicrebelartisan! Based on a joke.

Ruby narrowed her eyes, flipping her pencil around to erase the last line she’d written. Blake laid on her best, entirely engrossed in her latest book while Yang did push-ups between their expertly crafted- if she did say so herself- bunk beds. A nice, calm weekend filled with some quality downtime that each of them spent in their own way.

Well, honestly, she’d rather not be spending her morning studying for their upcoming test in Grimm Studies, but her partner had them on a bit of a schedule. Seeing as Weiss had gone off to the combat rooms two hours ago, Ruby either had to study now or get an earful and then study, which always kinda put a damper on the whole thing.

“Did you know that Creepers can congregate into colonies of more than two hundred?”

“I thought it was one-fifty?” Yang paused, pushing out a breath. “Or was that how many push-ups I was on? Crap.”

“You were on one hundred and fifteen; you’ve been counting under your breath the whole time.” Blake flicked one of her feline ears, the ribbon she used for her bow set aside for the moment. “And they just recently discovered the colony size; one-fifty was the old estimate.”

“Oh, cool.”

Ruby chuckled. “Sorry, Sis, didn’t mean to throw you off.”

“Hey, you probably helped me ace the test!”

“Yes, because missing that perfect score would be oh so tragic.”

“Ah, c’mon, Blakey, don’t be a-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m throwing my book at you.”

Ruby smiled, trying hard not to laugh out loud. No doubt Yang was about to make a very specific pun, one she’d made countless times before but got shot down before it could even come out this time. A quick glance over proved that Blake wasn’t actually mad about it and probably wouldn’t throw her book- she usually at least grabbed her bookmark if it was going to leave her hands- but her sister relented anyway with a chuckle before returning to her exercise.

Then, the door opened and Weiss drug herself inside, obviously worn out from her practicing. “The next time Pyrrha suggests we spar together, someone please remind me of this moment.”

Ruby winced, collecting up her papers and setting them in her book- as close to a bookmark as she ever came- and turning around in her chair. “Oh, she didn’t go easy on ya, did she?”

“Unfortunately, I’m quite certain she did.” The heiress groused, her combat outfit showing worse for wear and Myrtenaster still in hand. Which, odd- usually, Weiss secured her weapon in the assigned locker near the combat practice arenas; she only brought it back to the room for maintenance. “Apparently, my skills are still in need of some refinement.”

“What happened to Myrtenaster?”

“Hm?” She raised a brow at Blake before looking down, the pinch to her brows indicating annoyance. “Dust damnit.”

“You didn’t even realize you’d carried it all the way up here, did ya?” Yang chuckled, pausing in her exercise to sit back on her heels with a grin. “Yeah, sparring against Pyrrha kinda wipes your mind blank. She’s really good.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She turned around. “I’ll be back-”

“Hey, wait.” Although she couldn’t really tell at that distance, she thought the dust rapier sported a few new knicks along the guard. “I have to go down to check on Crescent Rose anyway. I’ll take it back for you.”

Briefly, a war raged, between a chiding remark on weapons not needing daily maintenance and her exhaustion from the spar. Ultimately, the latter won out. “Fine. I’m in dire need of a shower and a fresh change of clothes anyway.” She walked over, handing off Myrtenaster before heading to collect up her small armada of hair care products- put to shame only by Yang’s- and other essential shower supplies before heading out the door. “If I’m not back in two hours, assume I’ve expired and let me rest in peace.”

Once the door closed, Yang clicked her tongue. “She’s always so hard on herself. Girl’s gotta lighten up.”

“Good luck with that,” Blake said, almost returning to her book but catching something out of the corner of her eye. “Ruby? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” She held up Myrtenaster, which she’d been inspecting thoroughly for the past few minutes. “Weiss was so tired, she didn’t notice the damage, and I’m not sure if I can fix it.”

“Whoa, back up, damage?” Yang got to her feet and came over, whistling low.

As far as weapons went, Myrtenaster had a fairly straight forward design. The chambers that housed the dust were probably the most complicated part; as luck would have it, the plating that covered them was the part that was damaged, bent at such an angle that it probably wouldn’t cause any functional issues but it definitely looked like changing out the dust would be a bit more difficult than it should be. Add to that a few scratches in the otherwise durable metal and Ruby had to sigh, shaking her head.

“These plates need to be replaced and I don’t have the spare materials to do it.” She winced. “At least, not in white. I have an extra casing for Crescent Rose’s headpiece but-”

“Well, hold on; there’s machines down in the shop garage that could easily cut a new plate. We just need to pick up some Hunter grade metal.” Yang went over to where her scroll sat on the dresser, smiling as she tapped on an icon. “Yeah, I should have enough to grade some raw metal. How much would we need?”

Without hesitation, she pulled a fresh piece of paper out and started scribbling away, rounding up to make sure they’d have enough; she could eyeball it pretty well but definitely wanted to err on the safe side. While she was at it, she did a rough blueprint so she could visualize how they’d need to machine it in order to make a seamless replacement.

After a few more calculations, she circled the ending number with a smile. “There.”

“Sweet, I can afford that.” Then, Yang winced. “Not sure how we’re going to get the detailing down, though.”

“I can do that part.” Blake offered, setting her bookmark between the pages and getting off the bed, amber eyes tracing along the undamaged plate before she nodded. “It’s not too different from calligraphy.”

“You know calligraphy?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Great!” Ruby quickly wrote down the weight and specifications of the metal they’d need on a separate paper, handing it off to her sister. “While you’re grabbing the materials, I’ll get to work on a better schematic.”

“We can hide Myrtenaster under my bed until it’s done.” At the curious looks she received, Blake merely shrugged. “It’s not like we can put it under your beds.”

“Point.” Yang snatched up the paper. “Back in an hour!”

“I’ll meet you down in the garage!” She called out as her sister threw on her jacket, shaking her head. “Not sure what to tell Weiss about where Yang and I went, though.”

“Leave that part to me and send me a text when it’s my turn.” Blake patted her shoulder. “Trust me, I know how to keep a secret.”

Ruby laughed, bending over the desk to start working in earnest on the dimensions.

Later that night, they’d managed to successfully keep their teammate in the dark about the location of her weapon, Ruby somehow managing to convince her that she’d put it in Weiss’ locker, just as she said she would. While Blake slipped off to put the finishing touches on the new plates that Yang had machined out, her sister used jokes to thoroughly distract Weiss from all thoughts regarding Myrtenaster, eventually leading to a pun war that had almost made Ruby bang her head against her desk.

One would think she’d be used to it by now but one would be wrong, in fact.

“Ya know what, I gotta be honest, you’re starting to get pretty good at this!” Yang laughed, lounging on her bunk while watching Weiss, glaring up at the blonde from hers. “A few more years and they might even be funny.”

“Forgive me if I’ve only had the past few months to indulge in bad habits,” Weiss replied, though she couldn’t hide the way she preened at that bit of praise. Ruby didn’t exactly get it but somehow the heiress responded better to teasing compliments that flat out ones and Yang had picked up on it first. “Now, where is Blake? We should be heading to dinner sometime soon.”

“Oh, uh, I’m sure she’ll be right here!” She’d pulled the ‘team leader’ card earlier to keep her partner from sending a text earlier but now found herself running out of excuses. “She said she was on her way!”

“That was thirty minutes ago.”

“C’mon, Princess.” Yang hopped down from her bunk. “Let’s go down and grab ourselves a table. You know how Blakey is; I’m sure she just got lost in another book. Ruby can wait for her to get back.”

A huff. “Fine.” Getting to her feet, the two started for the door. “And you’d better come down soon, Ruby Rose! You’re not having another dinner that’s only comprised of dessert because the main line’s closed!”

“Okay, okay! We’ll be down as soon as Blake gets here!” She ducked her head, letting out a sigh of relief the moment the door closed. Now, she could retrieve her scroll, hoping she wouldn’t disturb the Faunus. She’d actually never sent the message earlier, for exactly that reason.

A moment later, the door opened and Blake stepped through, letting out her own sigh of relief and leaning back against the door, holding Myrtenaster in her off hand. “That was close.”

“But she didn’t see you, right?”

“No.” A small smile. “I thought you two would’ve gotten her to go down for dinner already. Thankfully, Yang’s loud.”

“No kidding.” Bounding to her feet, she quickly closed the distance. “Can I see?”

Wordlessly, Blake handed over the weapon, and she hadn’t been kidding about her skills with the engraving. Ruby wouldn’t have noticed the swap between the busted plate and the new one, were it not for one slight addition.

Property of Weiss Schnee A Great Friend and Teammate

“I… couldn’t help but make the addition.” Blake shrugged. “It’s like Yang said. She needs to lighten up.”

“Oh, man, she’s going to love this!” Ruby couldn’t help but giggle, though she immediately jumped and hid Myrtenaster behind her back- a bad plan, in hindsight- as the door opened and Yang slipped in with a grin.

“Ah, good, that was you in the hall.” She made a motion with her hand. “Well, c’mon, don’t keep me in the dark! Let’s see it!”

She showed Yang Blake’s handiwork, all three of them beaming that they’d pulled it off- until they heard a certain someone stomping up the hall.

“Quick!” Amber eyes flicked. “My bed!”

In a flurry of rose petals, Ruby stashed Myrtenaster away, knowing better than to try presenting the repaired weapon now. A few things one did not keep from Weiss Schnee: her beauty rest, her favorite chocolate, or her dinner.

“WOULD YOU-” The door burst open, blue eyes scanning the interior of the room before she continued. “THREE HURRY UP?”

“Yep!”

“Right.”

“Coming Weiss!” Ruby hurried to the door, smiling wide.

Yeah, she could be a little demanding from time to time, but Weiss was a great friend! She really couldn’t wait to see her expression!

Although she tried to play it off as best she could, Ruby could hardly sit still. Last night hadn’t provided a good opportunity to present Myrtenaster- Weiss went straight to bed after dinner and, again, one did not mess with her beauty sleep- so she sat on her bed, pretending to be engrossed in playing a game on her scroll against Yang, across the room on her own bunk. Blake had dived straight back into her book while Weiss did some studying of her own, though she abruptly stood up after about an hour.

“I’m going for a walk.” She grimaced, putting a hand to her lower back. “I’m afraid I’m still sore after yesterday’s spar.”

“Don’t let Pyrrha catch you limping; she’ll offer to carry you back to the room.” Yang warned with a chuckle. “She takes that stuff hard.”

“Duly noted.” She scanned around the room. “You three could do with some exercise as well.”

The blonde shrugged. “I went for a run this morning.”

“I did pull ups!”

“Pulling yourself out of bed doesn’t count.”

“I will do pull ups!” She amended. Really, Ruby didn’t mind a little exercise- it took a fair bit of muscle to swing Crescent Rose around- but she didn’t keep as strict a regime for a number of reasons. The first being: she liked to enjoy her time off.

Blake merely looked up from her book, ears canting back briefly.

“Right, well, then, I’m off.”

Weiss left the room, allowing her teammates to spring together, all wearing smiles.

“Oh, man, this is going to be great!”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for her to open her locker.” Yang laughed. “She’s going to be so floored!”

“I do hope we’ll be around when she sees it.” Blake tilted her head slightly. “You know we’re not going to hear the end of it for a while.”

“It’s not like she’s going to be mad.” Ruby reasoned, though she didn’t doubt the veracity of the Faunus’ claims. “She’s just going to try to one up us or something.”

“Oh, I can hear it already.” Her sister adjusted her posture and raised her voice. “How dare you three keep a secret like this from me, really, are we not teammates, we’re not supposed to keep secrets!”

The three of them laughed.

This was going to be good.

The weekend came to an end and they returned to classes with anticipation. However, after a few days, Weiss didn’t seem to act like anything had happened. Which, okay, they had some tests and bookwork on Monday and Tuesday, but surely she checked her weapon locker at some point, right? Ruby couldn’t help it; she’d started to get discouraged.

Did Weiss not like the new plate? Did she even notice?

A hand smacked her shoulder, startling her away from staring blankly at her textbook while supposedly studying. “Hey!”

“Ruby.” Weiss crossed her arms over her chest, starting down at her with just a hint of fury. “What did you do with it?”

She frowned. “With what?”

“With Myrtenaster!” Throwing her hands into the air, the heiress immediately launched into a rant. “When I noticed it wasn’t in my locker on Monday, I didn’t mention it, because maybe you’d put it in yours for some reason, but it’s Wednesday and we have a combat exam in two days! I need to practice!”

“Wait- Yang!” Leaning around her partner, she looked over at her sister. “Did you not put Weiss’ weapon in her locker?”

“What?” The blonde blinked. “I didn’t- you were supposed to put Myrtenaster back!”

“Hold on.” Blake sat up in her bed. “Neither of you put it back?” Then she leaned over, reaching under her bed and pulling the rapier in question out. “Are you two serious?”

“Hey, it was under your bed!” Yang snapped her fingers. “And you were the last one to work on it!”

“I brought it up here so you two could see it! Ruby should’ve put it back!”

“Yang said she was excited about Weiss’ reaction and she’d already gone out on a run!” She defended herself. “I thought she put it back!”

“What are you absolute dolts screaming about?” With a huff, the heiress marched over, finally retrieving her weapon.

“WE DID SOMETHING NICE BUT SHE FORGOT TO GIVE IT TO YOU!” All three of them spoke in tandem and-

Okay. Granted, they probably should’ve talked about who put Myrtenaster where. It wasn’t any one, single person’s fault.

But also, Ruby thought, it wasn’t hers.

She couldn’t really see Weiss’ face but she could see the slight shake in her shoulders as she stared down at Myrtenaster’s guard.

“How dare you,” she said, and for a moment the three exchanged worried glances because they could hear the warble in her voice, but then she snapped her head up to look at them, and they could very clearly see the tears she just barely held back. “How dare you three do something nice for me with absolutely no warning!”

“Wait, Weiss, don’t cry!” Ruby rushed over, throwing her arms around her teammate.

She wasn’t the only one, quickly joined by Blake and Yang as they surrounding the heiress while she clutched her weapon to her chest. “Yeah, c’mon, no tears!”

“We thought you would like it?” Blake offered, ears twitching.

“Of course I like it!” Despite a tear or two slipping out, she cleared her throat and tried glaring at them, though it… wasn’t very effective. “But here you three are, engraving my rapier, and I have no idea how to repay you! I don’t know enough about engraving-”

“Actually.” Yang smiled, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. “Ruby noticed one of the guard plates was damaged, so we wanted to replace it for you. The engraving was all Blake.”

“It was Ruby’s idea.” The Faunus shrugged slightly. “I just… added a few touches.”

“Yang machined the parts though and bought the materials!” She smiled, catching her partner’s expression as she obviously fought back even more tears. “You deserve it, Weiss!”

“Not yet,” she replied, before carefully tossing Myrtenaster on her bed and doing her absolutely best to return their hugs. “But I’m going to.”

Ruby smiled, happy that it all turned out for the best and enjoying the group hug with her team.

She just hoped Weiss didn’t go overboard with her ‘payback’; there were a terrifying number of things the heiress to the SDC could buy and they only had a dorm room.

[connorrenwick]

How to Create a Custom Business Website with Squarespace

The following post is brought to you by Squarespace. Our partners are hand picked by the Design Milk team because they represent the best in design.

Neon colors have taken over the runways and street style blogs for the past several years so it was only a matter of time before neon signs infiltrated the decor space (move over marquee letters!). And they’ve been embraced with open arms by design magazines, blogs and Pinterest boards. Lately, neon has become even more affordable (and for sale at big box stores like Target). But unless you had a neon artist on speed dial (or very deep pockets), it’s been a little difficult to get your name written in lights. (Or your mantra. Business name…Or just about anything custom). Until now! Name Glo has taken up the challenge to get your name in lights.

The company was started by Lena Imamura and Sas Simon, in 2014. Sas was on the hunt for the perfect baby shower gift for her soon-to-be-born nephew. She hit on the idea of having a neon sign made for his nursery, but couldn’t find a source. In one of those light bulb moments, she remembered that her high school friend, Lena had a neon sign in her apartment, and so reached out. The rest is Name Glo history.

Of course, it didn’t happen quite that quickly. Lena had been making light-based sculptures post art school—not only did she love the power effect of neon, but she also loved that it didn’t take up too much space in her tiny NYC apartment. The pair spent the next two years taking commissions and fine-tuning the custom ordering process on their Squarespace site. (They had to develop a way of making custom ordering simple and intuitive.) Finally, they opened their cyber “doors” on April 12, 2016. On their “almost” anniversary, we asked them to look back on their first year of e-commerce and share the challenges (and highlights!) of making a custom business work on Squarespace.

What template did you use and did you experiment with others?

We use the Marta template (believe it or not) and we’ve really pushed the template with a lot of custom CSS. We love that Squarespace allows this.

We did a lot of research on different templates, comparing and contrasting all the various features. Yet despite all the research we went with Marta because it was just the most simple and clean. We trusted that the custom CSS would take our site to where we wanted it to be—and voila, it worked!

How long did you spend working on the site design? Did you work with a designer or did you do it yourselves?

We both like to divide and conquer, which is the beauty of having a partner who has totally different strengths from yourself. Lena does all the design work from the site to the branding to the neon designs. Our friend and great designer Stine Westergaard developed the logo for us. And from our rough estimation together, we probably invested a combined 1000 hours from inception to launch.

Can you tell me a bit about how you’ve used the platform to have a custom order business? I love the way you can try out phrases and envision how it will look in neon!

Thanks! We’re about to geek out on you, ready?

We knew we needed a custom designing process but there really wasn’t an easy solution available. After speaking with a bunch of Squarespace developers and getting outrageous quotes left and right to build a custom designing feature on the site, we came up with a simple solution that involved 1000s of woman hours

In order to recreate a custom designing process, we setup the pages so that you could pick a font, then a color, then a mounting type and a display color. We started out with 8 fonts and 9 colors and 4 mounting options and 4 display colors — if you do the math that’s 1,152 combinations…. That’s 1,152 items in our store for every combination of font, neon color and mounting type that was mapped out across 100+ page flow that created a seamless selection process.

After a handful of sales we decided to invest into developing our own custom design interface that you see on the site today. It’s actually hosted on a separate domain because it’s a web application (an app that works in a browser window). What you see there now is an MVP (minimum viable product) while we learn more about user needs and get feedback from our clients.

We’re really innovating the medium of neon with our modernized approach and it’s our website, brand and the custom design app that’s creating that experience and telling our story. We’re so thrilled at the response we’re getting.

What have been some of your favorite phrases in neon?

We did a custom bee in LED neon for a nursery of a close friend. Their daughters name is Bar and they call her “B” all the time, so we loved this one for sentimental reasons.

One of our first pieces we made were neon eggs, which we get asked about a lot. An art gallery ended up displaying the piece in their window and by chance Refinery29 spotted it and posted the neon on their Instagram. That little post really helped bring us a ton of exposure and take us to a new level

If you were starting the business today, what would you do differently/the same?

I don’t think either of us anticipated how busy we’d be so quickly, which is a great problem to have, just sometimes a little overwhelming. We haven’t advertised our product anywhere other than our Instagram account and brand collaborations, so we were both pleasantly surprised with how quickly the word has spread. In hindsight, we would have a better system in place at the very beginning with how to organize all of our orders. At this point we have it down pat, but it took a few orders to understand how best to communicate the whole process from design to production to delivery to our clientele.

We would keep our mission statement the same, which is to make every moment shine, and we really do seek to do just that.

What advice would you give someone who wants to start an online shop?

Before you have your site go live, we would definitely suggest sending it to a core group of people who can give concise and helpful feedback. Be open and receptive to change and find people you really trust and listen to them. The way we thought the site should flow was often different than several of our friends and it was important to be receptive to their constructive criticism.

What have been your biggest lessons learned this year? 

I think our biggest success so far has been to say yes to everything, try it out and learn from it. Not being afraid to take risks at the beginning is very important. It’s better to learn hard and fast at first, than stay the safe course and be afraid to make changes later.

For example our first collaboration was with an illustrator in Dallas who we had never met yet she was a big fan of our work. We just went with our gut and ended up creating a beautiful piece for her which resulted in new sales. Looking back, we didn’t know her from a hole in the wall! But we took that risk anyway.

We know it’s easier said than done but trusting your instincts and taking the risks you can afford to take, only helps you grow. For a startup, we especially think it’s crucial

Any final advice for starting a business/ecommerce site that you’d like to pass on?

SHIPPING! Always think about shipping. The shipping always bites you if you don’t think through your business model carefully.

We have a pretty unique shipping situation since we’re delivering fragile glass neons. But at the outset everyone told us that everyone loses money on shipping. It’s just become a standard on ecommerce sites to have close to free shipping — no one expects to pay for that these days. So building-in shipping into your operating costs is important.

Even though we ship our neons all over the place, we still are constantly iterating on the best ways to package, ship and install them. Maybe it’s always a work in progress but it’s a big part of an ecommerce business that is hidden in plain sight.

Make your next website using Squarespace. Squarespace offers online store, templates and domains to help you get your business off-the-ground! And when you use coupon code DESIGNMILK at checkout you’ll get 10% off your first purchase.

via http://design-milk.com/

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