#fizzy plays: days gone

[fizzytoo]

my shawtyyy

[yellowbunnydreams]

Bunny Ears (Part 2) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

~Prepare for fluff!~

Part 1

Tag List: @ruh--roh-raggy @h4nluv @sleepy---head

Cw: CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce (more tags will be added later in the story)

The last shift of your first week at Freddy's was welcomed with open arms by the time it arrived. You had known it would be chaos dealing with children, change, tickets, prizes, the arcade and all the fun responsibilities that came with being a restaurant but by the Saturday morning, you were ready to have a day off and take off the shoes you'd brought to work in.

Two days in you had decided that the somewhat flimsy shoes you had originally brought with you were no good after you were tired of getting your toes stepped on by small children, so you had been and bought some still pretty but sturdy black boots to work in and ever since you had been minorly less injured by children. Minorly. Children were prone to being slightly feral when hyped on slightly watered down fizzy-drinks and pizza as well as surrounded by bright lights and colours.

Spotting a child trying to climb on stage, you sigh and walk over with a bright smile, gently tapping the kid on the shoulder and making them turn around as you bent down to their height. Your bright red vest and confetti blouse wrinkling slightly as you almost ended up kneeling on the sticky carpet, the kid's face scrunched up in annoyance at the intrusion of his playtime until he noticed it was a member of staff.

"Hey buddy! I've been so silly and forgotten the rules of Freddy's and you seem like a smart little man," You said brightly, watching the kid puff out his striped shirt chest and straighten up, trying not to smile that somebody at Freddy's had called him smart. "can you tell them to me again?"

"Sure I can! I can cause I'm smart!" He tried to lower his voice to sound more important, and it made your heart melt slightly as to how adorable it was. Nodding encouragingly as you waited for him to speak.

"Go on then buddy."

"Well umm... You gotta not run! That's the biggest rule and the biggest means it's first! Then um... umm, oh you've got no loud noises...Go to the bathroom? Know where your mommy is!...um...umm. Don't touch Freddy? Don't hit other people! and um..umm that's it."

"Well done superstar! What were you about to do when I came over?" You asked, knowing the kid was puffed up in pride and would walk right into the question.

"I was going to give Freddy a hug!" Suddenly looking sheepish as he realised what had happened and why you had asked him. His shoulders sagging and his lip pouting as he bowed his little head, making you touch his shoulder gently again to grab his attention, making him look up and reveal teary eyes.

"I'm guess he's your favourite?" The kid nodded and you reached into your pocket, pulling out a Freddy Fazbear sticker and handing it to the kid with some arcade tokens. "Well that's okay, but you have to stick to the rules buddy, although you get a prize for being such a superstar and remembering them!"

Standing up, any thoughts of tears from the child were gone and he ran back off into the restaurant to play whatever game was popular that day, or to make new friends about their favourite animatronics. You were always surprised to see how many kids 'played Freddy's' by collecting kids with different favourites and would huddle in groups, taking turns singing various songs from the pizzeria.

You jumped as you turned around and almost walked into Garret, clutching your heart thumping in your chest as you took a deep breath and composed yourself. He shrugged his shoulders at the fact he had been standing so close to you, clearing his throat like that would remedy it.

"What is it Garret? And if you say that the ladies need cleaning again, I did it twice yesterday, I'm not doing it today." You said, keen to move as you were aware that you were in front of the main stage and according to your watch it was only four minutes until showtime, confirmed over the tannoy which only seemed to hype the kids around you up more. All rushing to eat, drink and play before the next show as if they didn't happen every twenty minutes.

"No actually, Daphne has that today. But Henry said he needed you to pop into parts and services and find him a 'flux capacitor', in the labelled box and bring it to him. He needs it for the parts order next week." He shrugged and you squinted at him for a second before you nodded and thanked him for passing on the message, heading towards Parts and Services, a back room down the concrete back halls of the place.

It didn't take you long to find it, after a few minutes of searching and asking somebody where it was as they passed by. But as you opened the door, you noticed how cluttered it was initially. Sighing as you realised how long it was going to take trying to find a presumably small part in a mess of cables, boxes and half-built things you were nervous to go near in case they broke. The few dim bulbs overhead didn't help as you began to search, carefully picking up boxes or moving coils of wire to check the labels, wondering if there was any form of organisation as you opened up a large box labelled as 'fuses' and finding animatronic eyes staring back, cold and unblinking.

Sighing, you stood up again and took a half-step back to try and turn around and try not to disturb anything perched precariously on the workbench nearby. Your back hitting something unexpectedly and making you scream, throwing your hands up to cover your face and cowering back into the shelves as you startled. A large hand darting out over the top of you and gripping the shelf you bumped into to stop it from potentially tipping over.

Removing your hands from your face you found yourself confronted with a white undershirt that was stained with motor oil and grease from the animatronics, forcing you to look up and face the quizzical expression that was looking down at you. Grey eyes behind gold rimmed aviator glasses sparkling with amusement, deep brown hair and the slightest beard going on that had just started to grey closer to the temples. Swallowing hard, you blinked up at the unfamiliar man, mind racing along with your heart.

"Well I know I'm all dirty and shit but do I really look that bad?" The baritone voice chuckled, slightly gravelly and still somehow warm enough to make you melt slightly.

"N-No sir I'm so so sorry, I-I didn't mean-" You began to stammer before the man removed his arm from above your head, stepping back and sitting at a chair from the workbench, giving you a better look at him even under the dim lights.

He was shirtless, or at least, no proper shirt on but rather a white-tshirt. Giving you a good view of his broad shoulders and thick arms, the tight shirt giving you a good idea of a developing dad-body that still somehow screamed muscular and how tall he was as he stretched his legs out, crossing his arms and holding his biceps, making you glance at his hands and noticing how large they too seemed.

"Are you new here?" He asked, tilting his head to one side as he looked at you critically, his expression serious despite the humour in his eyes that you had briefly seen.

"Yes sir. I started this week." Swallowing nervously as you tried to look anywhere but the large man infront of you, occasionally meeting his eyes to be polite but otherwise trying not to stare, knowing your cheeks were already heated up enough and you could tell you were blushing hard.

"Figures, I'm going to take a gamble and say... Garret, that spotty teenage kid? Kinda weedy looking? Told you to come in here and look for something?" Hiding amusement from his voice as he sat observing you, thinking that perhaps you were too naive and sweet to be back in the grimy bowels of the establishment.

"Yes sir, he um.. He said I needed a 'flux capacitor' or something for the parts order for-" You didn't get much further as the man began to laugh, a deep bassy sound that made your chest flutter slightly as you heard it, definitely blushing if you weren't before. His face split into a grin, revealing a lopsided smile as he shifted and stood up again, once more towering over your much smaller frame.

"Yeah he's fucking with you. I'll admit, this is one of the more...creative... ways that a new staff member has been hazed." Chuckling still as he walked over to a different bench, making you realise that had probably been where he was stood before you bumped into him. "They usually get the newbies to come in here and bring random shit out, but actually having you look for something that doesn't exist, quite funny."

You felt your cheeks burning as he laughed at you and made you feel uncomfortable, squirming as you tried to stand for the scrutiny before you looked up at him tinkering away with something on a bench, realising that you hadn't seen him the entire week you'd been working there. It was your turn to cross your arms, clearing your throat slightly before speaking.

"You know, I don't know who you are. You're not wearing a uniform or a name badge, so I'd like to see some ID please." You said, holding out one hand and struggling to try and keep your composure as the broad and tall man stopped tinkering and turned his head to blink at you.

He saw you stood there, tiny compared to him and still trying to defiantly hold out your hand, demanding to see ID and prove that he was meant to be there. He tried not to smile as he reached into his slacks pockets and pulled out his wallet, thumbing through it until he pulled out two cards. His Fazbear employee card and his drivers licence, handing them over simultaneously and letting you inspect them closely.

You looked over them carefully, although it took seconds before your face paled and it fell. Body shaking as you realised how badly you had fucked up by demanding ID from the man.

"Sorry, we don't seem to have met before, I'm William Afton, co-owner of Freddy Fazbear's." Grinning widely as he plucked the cards from your hands and put them on the worktop before offering a rough, oily hand to shake. Taking a little humour in your shocked expression as you shakily took his hand, almost lost in his as you both shook and introduced yourself. Quietly giving him your name too.

"It's nice to meet you little lady, but I'm sure you have to get back out into the colourful world of Freddy's." He suggested, trying to contain his laughter as you swallowed nervously, avoiding his eyes again which was a small pet-peeve of his, but he was willing to be forgiving on that occasion as you had been caught off-guard by him and didn't know him yet.

Gesturing to the door, you allowed him to escort you there, turning back to apologise to him before he leaned against the doorframe and looked down at you with a grin, wanting to fuck with you some more before he fully let you go.

"You're welcome back any time though, Henry doesn't usually let the pretty ones come down here." He laughed darkly, making a biting motion with a slightly snarled lip at you and listening to the squeak you made as you practically speed walked down the hallway with an obvious blush on your cheeks. Chuckling to himself at the fact he had flustered you so successfully.

You practically burst into the restaurant and went straight onto your break, plopping down into the staff room and placing your head in your hands, groaning loudly as you tried to process what had just happened. Hearing the chair opposite you scrape back, you saw Stacey looking at you curiously, eyebrow raised as you just shook your head at her.

"So, you practically ran through the building like your ass was on fire, what's up?" She teased, making you shake your head again, face burning as you tried to repress your new image of William Afton and could still hear his baritone voice in your ears.

"It's nothing Stacey."

"Bullshit! Come on! Did you stare at one of the dad's too long or something?" She teased, poking at your arm and hands until you pulled them away from your face and revealed the heavy blush, making her laugh even more "Oh come on, what could have been sooo bad?"

"I met Mr. Afton." Stacey snorted as you said it, raising a sceptical eyebrow and grinning at you.

"Okay, and I mean, he can be weird but like, what else is there to-"

"Stacey I asked him for his fucking ID and employee badge since he wasn't in uniform." You decided to leave out the part where he had called you pretty and bit at you in a way that you were almost ashamed to say made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and the fact you had run into him. Physically run into him. And screamed when you saw him.

The encounter got more and more embarrassing the more you thought about it.

"Well...Shit." Stacey offered helpfully, patting your hand consolingly as you felt your body burning up in shame. "Guess you gotta hope and pray he forgets by Monday."

You knew you certainly wouldn't forget by Monday, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wouldn't either.

[silverzoomies]

Alone

peter maximoff x reader fluff

warnings: fluff, humor, first meetings, pining, female reader

word count: 3,461

a/n: just a drabble i spent way too long on. based on something i used to daydream about a lot. happy late valentine's day !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Peter sits, slouched on the floor against the foot of a sofa. Glimmers of light flicker in his eyes, as he indulges in some mind numbing television. Reruns of Frasier play stereotypical laugh tracks, droning through the basement. He can’t help but follow suit. Chuckling along in quiet huffs, he shakes his head.

Upstairs, the house rests in silence. Dead quiet. Magda snores softly in her room. Lorna’s probably conked out too. And Wanda? She’s gone. Somewhere. He could never guess. She doesn’t tell anyone where she goes on weeknights. But hey, what’s it matter to him? So long as she’s playing it safe.

Peter snickers at another corny, sitcom joke. He guzzles down handfuls of Reese's pieces. The candies rustle in their small box. But with the rustle, his ears catch something else. Distant and faint. Outside the realm of television laugh tracks and candy clicks.

It’s a lyrical melody, playing with romantic cadence from outside the basement window. Peter tilts his head back, drinking a glass bottle Pepsi. Fizzy sweetness mildly irritates his throat. Raising a brow, he guides his gaze to the window. One more chug of his soda, and he snatches the remote.

The roar of sitcom television falls into stillness.

And sure enough, a tune whispers from beyond the window’s glass. Like the call of a sea siren through the neighborhood. But it’s 10pm on a Tuesday night. And the likelihood of a smokin’ hot siren crawling from the ocean - to a house in middle class suburbia - is beyond impossible. Unless Peter’s dreaming again.

In which case; wait for him, nautical dames. He'll grab his trunks and be out flash.

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won’t end though

Alone

Peter narrows his eyes at the window, scoffing to himself. Woah, now. Is he warped in the head? Or is the mantra of Heart crying out from beyond the shadows? Peter appears at the window in a zip. Raising himself on his toes, he launches his body upward. Through smudged glass, Peter’s black hues scan the world outside. A shadowy mass looms in the grass, imposing and somewhat terrifying.

Until he realizes, it’s someone holding a giant boombox over their head. Phew .

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone

Peter’s silver brows furrow again.

“What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

He unlatches the window, pushing it open. Allowing that unmistakable tune to come through much clearer. Peter watches the mysterious, boombox stranger for a moment longer. A beat passes, and Peter sighs. He could just as easily zip out there, confront the culprit, and return to his basement lickety split. Instead, he opts for the casual approach.

Peter pushes himself through the window, his bare feet scuffing the basement wall. He accidentally kicks over a set of speakers. Some he stole five years ago and forgot about. They tumble off a wall shelf and crash hard onto the floor. Knocking down a bunch of stolen street signs in their wake. If Maximoffs weren’t such deep sleepers, he’d be in for it now. Big time.

As soon as Peter’s out, he stumbles in the grass. Mumbling a hushed - Shit.

You don’t know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Crawling through the dry, winter grass, Peter finally stands. With an exhale, he wipes dirt from his grey sweatpants. The rando in his yard doesn’t react, but they lower the boombox a little. Peter waits at a distance, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Who are you? Whaddya wannnnnt?” He shouts.

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

No response from the rando. With a simple gesture, they tap the speaker of the boombox. Whatever that means. Rolling his eyes, Peter strides across the cold grass. Shirtless in the brisk, February air. He raises a hand to scratch his messy, silver bedhead. As he moves in closer, the neighborhood street lights illuminate the figure’s features.

Up until now, he thought some weirdo guy snuck out to pine for Wanda’s attention. Peter’s ready to kick his ass if he needs to. Poor Wanda’s always got dudes falling to her feet on Valentine's day. But she usually does the ass kicking. More power to her.

Guess he won’t have to this time. Turns out, it’s just some weirdo girl.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

Peter puts a stop to the song before it reaches its end. Extending a hand in a quick blur, he abruptly clicks a button on the box. The neighborhood drowns itself in late night silence all over again. Interrupted only by the occasional car passing in the distance. Peter’s vascular arms cross over his chest. Lidded eyes leer straight at the mystery woman.

“Sooooooooo…” He tilts his head to the side, “Who are you? And why are you playing Heart outside my house at, like, ass-o-clock at night?” Peter pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicious slits, “Are you tryna pick up my sister? ‘Cuz you kinda look the type. And I know she’s been ‘tryin’ new things’ lately.” He gestures with air quotes, “If you catch my drift. Not that it’s any of my business. Point is , she’s not here.”

Boombox girl lowers said boombox down into the grass. She shakes her head, reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan.

“Pick up your sis- hah! ” She snickers with a snort, dawning a bashful smile. Boombox girl runs her other hand through her hair, “No! Noooo, it’s not like that! Uhm…I was actually playing Alone for you, silly.”

Peter drops his arms to his sides, and his heart skips a speedy beat. Scrunching his nose, he curls his lip.

“Youplayedwhatforwhonow?” He slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. The apples of his cheeks burn, and Peter clears his throat, “Uhhhh. Okay. Thanks? That’s…sweet, I guess. But, I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Her smile’s kind of adorable. Especially as she rubs her neck, displaying timid hesitance. Whatever confidence she had, she must’ve maxed out on 80’s romance cliches.

“Not really? I mean, I’ve seen you around. A lot. But you’ve never really noticed me, so…”

Alrighty then. That makes this interaction even weirder. But Peter’s pulled equally weird - if not more desperate stops to win some hearts in the past. And he may or may not be guilty of the same technique she’s using now.

Give him a break, okay? So what if he took a chance on it once? Back when he was eighteen and leagues more naive. It’s a little cheesy, sure. But it’s also the story of how he lost his v-card. And not the Valentine’s kind.

Case in point, it worked for him. So, he’ll bite.

“And you thought crashin’ outside my house, blastin’ some corny song while my family’s asleep - that’s a smoother move than…oh, I dunno…just talkin’ to me?”

She shrugs again, her guilty eyes looking down at the grass. Boombox girl raises a foot, tapping the ground with the tip of her boot. God, she’s obviously so nervous. And he's not gonna lie, it's a little charming. The corners of Peter’s lips turn up in a grin.

“I thought it might get your attention. You just…you move so fast all the time. And I’m really slow when it comes to these kinds of things. You were always gone before I ever got the chance.”

“How’d you know where I live?” Peter throws her a nod of his head, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, she fixes her attention on the plastic case of a cassette tape.

“My uncle tried to arrest you once.” She grins, “He was out on patrol. Saw you steal a speed limit sign. Your mom paid him to let you off the hook.”

Peter’s brows fly up under his bangs. His cheeky smile spreads into his dimples.

“Your unc-...seriously? Whoa. No kiddin’?” He laughs, “Wish I could say I remember. But that sorta thing used to happen to me all the time.”

Not like he wasn’t asking for it back then. But to be fair, Peter’s made some drastic improvements. When it comes to his klepto compulsions, anyway. Excluding the influx of junk food and Garbage Pail Kid cards he snags on a daily basis. From nation-wide chain stores. Totally ethical.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. This way, he actually gets a good look at her. Soft lips. Pretty eyes, “You used to be the talk of the station, where he worked. Those guys never shut up about you.”

Reaching forward, she passes Peter the cassette in her hand.

“What’s this?” He gently takes it, inspecting the hand-made label inside the case. Decorated in little, lightning bolt doodles. Even some hearts. Aw. Cute. Scratched across it in messy handwriting, are the words - For the kleptomaniac. In exchange for my heart. You stole it forever ago.

Come on. Could she be any more corny?

“It’s a mixtape.” She bites her lip like she’s terrified to keep talking, “It’s cool if you don’t listen to it. I dunno if you’ll even like what’s on it. But I know you carry around that Walkman all the time.”

Uh huh. Did her uncle tell her that too? Get outta here.

“Does it have Heart on it?” Peter flips the case over in his hand, pursing his lips.

“Of course it has Heart on it.”

“Awww. Givin’ me Heart for your heart.” He snickers, turning pinker in his cheeks, “This is legit the cheesiest thing a girl’s ever done for me. I’m kinda buggin’ out right now.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, I can always take it back, if you-” She teases, like she thinks he’s being sarcastic.

She reaches for the tape. But as her fingers brush the case, Peter raises it above his head. The motion happens quickly, before she can even keep up. Boombox girl wasn’t foolin’. She is slow. Slower than a turtle on tranquilizers. As she makes another attempt, Peter drops his hand in a speedy blur.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nuh uh. No takesie-backsies.” He teases, waving a finger, “A trades a trade, babe.”

Her hands rest at her hips, and she flutters her long lashes. So shamelessly flirtatious, but still not enough to win him over. Not just yet. Even if her bedroom eyes offer a tempting invite. Like, seriously, so tempting.

Mama didn't raise him like that, though. Peter has somewhat of a delinquent track record, sure. But he's still a good hearted gentleman. He'll take her out on a few dates first. Treat her to a little arcade romance, before he tries some no pants dancing.

If she's not playing him for a complete jackass, that is. Really, it’s almost too good to be true.

No chick has ever pined for him this hard in his life. And Peter’s never had the chance to play hard to get. He bets dollars to donuts, boombox babe probably isn't a mutie either. Talk about some major role reversal. How often does a human girl beg and plead for mutant man's love? She knows he's a total shut in, right? Or did her uncle not fill her in on that?

“You still have my heart, though.” She coos, gazing at Peter with those eyes.

Those - embrace me, o’ speedster man of my dreams - eyes.

Yeah. Her uncle most definitely didn't break the news. Peter hisses, teasing her again with a click of his teeth.

“Ooooh. Yeah. Well, finders keepers. Good luck shakin’ that silver lovebug.”

He flirts back and forth with her naturally. Kinda like high school sweethearts. It goes on for a few more minutes. Until he's pestered her enough, she just up and quits. Her car's parked down the street. A Volkswagen bug. Hah. And there she goes. Peter's secret admirer stomps off. Boombox swinging at her side. A wave of guilt almost pulls him under, and Peter starts to regret teasing her so much.

She laughs as she walks away. And the call of her giggle brings him back to the surface, much like a song. Seems like the sirens really did come out tonight.

So, she likes playing games too, huh?

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Peter’s not even that much of a Heart fan.

He looks down at the cassette case in his hands. Rolling a thumb over a scratch in the plastic. A beat passes. In a flash, he appears in front of her. Peter walks backwards, padding barefoot along the side of the road.

“So, are you gonna ask me out ‘er what? C'mon, don't be chicken shit. I know you got it in you!” He jokes.

Boombox girl giggles so hard, she breaks out in dorky snorts. Ah, the sexiest, siren song. Too bad that's not a track on the mixtape. He’s willing to slip her some loose change for a raw recording.

By happenstance, another car slows to a stop. Right in the middle of the empty neighborhood street. Colored a familiar shade of scarlet, the vehicle looms for a beat or two. Peter comes to halt, watching as the passenger side window rolls down. Boombox girl crashes right into him.

Shit. Peter just now realized, he doesn't know her name yet.

He grabs her hips on instinct, catching her in case she falls over or something. Her free hand clutches his arm, right over the ‘mom’ tattoo etched into his skin. Naturally, Peter radiates enough warmth to act as a heater. He’s a godsend on cold, lonesome nights. Boombox girl presses her body closer to his, seeking his heat.

Peter knows she does it without thinking, since she whimpers a soft, “ Oh god. I’m so sorry. ”

“It’s cool. You okay?” Peter’s hands linger on her hips.

“What’s going on over there?” Wanda grills playfully from her car. She flits her eyes between her doofus brother, and boombox girl. When Wanda purses her lips, she does so in a way identical to Peter, “Is he giving you any trouble?” She asks what's-her-name.

Peter zips to the passenger side door, crossing his arms over it. Leaning against Wanda’s car through the window, he makes a pfffbbbbtt noise.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Wands. I’m just walkin’ my future wife to her car.” He raises one of his hands, waving the cassette case, “Check it out, ah? She made me a mixtape! Cute, right?”

Wanda’s knits her brows as she tilts her head. The long, scarlet locks of her hair bounce with the motion. At the side of the road, boombox girl makes an adorable squeal. She covers her blistering face with her hands, mewling silent pleas.

“Oh my god stop. I’m sorry I even said anything. Oh my god. ” What's-her-name whimpers.

Which really isn’t helping the whole suspicious sister situation. Wanda leans back in her seat, peering over Peter’s shoulder at boombox girl. Narrowing her eyes, Wanda looks back at him. And before she can call Peter out on his bullshit, he lowers his arms from the door. Peter drops his chin to it, his tapioca eyes gazing up at Wanda innocently.

He chews his lip. In that ‘ I’m obviously up to no good’ kind of way.

“Y’wanna know what that cutie over there told me?” He purrs, talking loud enough for what’s-her-name to hear, "She said I stole her-"

Boombox girl shrieks, “MAXIMOFF! Please! That was a secret! I’m serious! You’re killing me here, dude!”

Maximoff?

Ohhhhh. She doesn’t actually know his name. Seriously? Didn’t what's-her-name say she’s pined after Peter for a while now? How long is a while? Long enough to know his address, apparently. And to know he likes listening to his tunes. And to know he’s a mutant with a rep for thieving. But not long enough for anyone to drop his name? Did the feds never bother learning it? Ouch. Figures.

“Piet.” Wanda leers at Peter, holding him at gunpoint with her eyes, “Leave that poor girl alone. Look at her! She’s had enough.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter stands up straight. Lazily, he smirks, waving a hand, signaling Wanda to drive off.

“Naaaah! You shoulda seen her back at the house. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Played songs outside my window. Y'know, like they do in the movies? I’m serious! You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Once more, Wanda shifts her skeptical gaze to what’s-her-name. The mystery girl carries her boombox to her car. With her head dipped and a free hand over her face. She looks like she’s doing the walk of shame. As if Peter stole a little something else from her and-w hoops. That's also not helping his case at all. Wanda hums, doubtful of Peter’s unlikely story.

He cheeses a toothy grin, looking guilty.

“Really?” Wanda adjusts in her seat, reaching for the radio dial, “Well, you might wanna tell her goodnight. For a girl who’s totally in love with you , she seems in a heck of a hurry to leave.”

And with that, Wanda drives off. Peter stumbles back, his calloused heels scuffing concrete. Wanda’s car rolls all the way down the road and into the driveway. Whipping around, Peter catches what’s-her-name opening the trunk of her love bug. As she lifts the boombox into it, Peter zips up next to her. Latching his arms around the boombox, he gives her an aloof grin.

“Can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks, cutie.” He throws her a wink.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask why. Peter zips back to his spot on the side of the road, clicking a button on the boombox. He raises it over his head, letting Heart roar obnoxiously across the neighborhood. Disrupting the late night peace. Out the corner of his eye, Peter notices a few neighborhood lights come on. The song plays just as Wanda hops out of her car. She stops in the middle of her stride to the front door. Her bags hang from her arms and her keys dangle on her finger.

Wanda squints, eyebrows turned inward.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

“I TOLD YOU! SHE’S TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ME!” Peter yells.

A faint, red glow emanates from Wanda’s hand, as she delicately swipes it in the air. The boombox’s tape player pops open with an click, and Peter lowers the box down in front of him. He playfully pouts, muttering a soft booooooo to himself. Abrupt silence fills the entire neighborhood again, save for the local dogs barking in their yards.

“Say goodnight, Pietro.” Wanda’s voice calls from the driveway, before she disappears into the house.

Peter doesn’t even realize what’s-her-name is standing next to him, until she speaks.

“Pietro’s a beautiful name.”

Peter snickers, feeling heat rise in his cheeks again. Popping open the case she gave him, he swaps the tape for the one in the boombox. Rapidly clicking the volume button, Peter huffs a soft laugh, hooded eyes blinking.

"Thanks. I'd say the same about yours, but I don't even know it." He teases. A little shy, Peter keeps his eyes on the boombox, "I go by Peter, actually."

"Peter. Pietro. Whatever your name is, you embarrassed the shit outta me, man." What's-her-name scoffs. Peter kinda likes the sound of both names in her voice, "You're lucky you're gorgeous."

Gorgeous? Whoa. That's a helluva word. Shit, this really is too good to be true. Peter's heart skips another beat, and he shakes his head. "Y'know, if you still what your heart back, you're shit outta luck, babe." Peter clicks the play button on the boombox, only after some tension heavy beats pass, "Like I said, finders kee-"

An all too familiar melody pours from the boombox speakers, softer now.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I’m lying here the room’s pitch dark

“Seriously?” Peter laughs, slinging an arm over boombox girl's shoulders.

“Yeah, seriously. I told you it had Heart.” She blushes profusely, averting her innocent gaze.

Maybe there really is something to these 80's romance cliches. Peter's almost willing to give up his own heart. Just as compensation for hers.

[fishermanshook]

SEE YOU AGAIN (barmaid x gn!reader)

# HAPPY (early) BDAY DEMI! , day 10 of @philomena-propellente ‘a valentines event , C4L , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Once a customer, always a customer, even if your journey ends here. Care for a drink?

꒰wc꒱ 711

The sound of chatter and drinks clinking fills the Bourbon's tavern down the main street. Except for a lone seat at the bar, every chair has been occupied in just the first hour since the bar opened for the night. The drink orders have been coming in at rapid speed this night, and the duo can only try to keep up. Demi busies herself by getting out more ingredients for her brother, Sam, as he preps their secret to success: Dovlin. The next hit in the industry has people coming in from every corner of the world trying to get a sip.

But alas, her eyes refuse to leave her brother as he mixes and shakes the unknown ingredients together to make Dovlin's recognizable color. A deep, penetrating red that looks as if it's been pulled from humans itself. While she isn't entirely sure what lies in the drink, she trusts that her brother knows what he's doing.

Unfortunately for her, a bell near the front indicates that a new customer has arrived. Neither of them can take another drink order, but Demi reassures Sam that she's got this. The Barmaid takes a deep breath in before plastering on her best-serving smile and-

And she's greeted with you. Your eyes widen at the site of her, and a big smile graces your face as you almost leap to hug her. Demi laughs into your shoulder as she spins you around. "Hi hun, how are you?" she squeals. Demi takes your light giggle as 'good' and takes you to your unofficial seat in the tavern.

You've already been stripped of your coat and spot Demi hanging it up in the back so it doesn't get stolen. Immediately, the Barmaid's attention goes directly to you. You've been gone for some time now, guess all you can do is play catch up at this point. You're distracted by the magic that Demi performs, as she does all sorts of bartender tricks with your glass. Even earn some stares from the surrounding tables as they watch the Barmaid flip the glass and pour the wine. (Low clapping can be heard in the background of the tavern. For you, Demi would practice that trick during the time you were gone. Hoping to impress you by the time you arrive.)

After she's finished, Demi has produced your favorite drink. A purple, grape-flavored juice that invades your veins with excitement. The drink itself is familiar as well and makes you feel more at home in the tavern.

"You've been gone for a month [name] now just where did you run off to?" Demi questions you as she jabs you in the shoulder. She's more than happy to see you, but that still doesn't excuse the time that's passed since your unannounced departure. You take a sip from your drink. It's cold and fizz sending your stomach in a spiral. You wipe your mouth before speaking again.

"I apologize for going AWOL on you, I promise it won't happen again," You say with an apologetic look on your face. "I got caught up on a business trip and was forced to leave as soon as possible." You can't deny that your job doesn't pay you well, which forces you to go back and forth between different departments. That's why you've been coming to this bar for god knows how long. The leather seats have ripped with age, but the nostalgia grows stronger the longer you're separated from the tavern.

You take another sip from your glass. This time, the fizzy feeling became less prominent. "I also have received a rather... interesting letter. The sender is anonymous, and I couldn't pull any more information from it besides the fact that it's offering a large sum of money in exchange for my presence in a game." You hand Demi the letter. It feels smooth in her hands, like a ticket. A ticket to freedom. To a better life. "It's a promise to something greater in this little life of ours, and I'm contemplating taking them up on the offer. Do you or Sam perhaps know anything about Oletus Manor? Hello? Demi I-"

The memory ends there, and the Barmaid wakes up in a cold sweat with dried tears on her face.

note: like 5 months latter and I still can’t write Demi properly 😞 older readers do we recognize the purple drink???

(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[paperstorm]

I was tagged by @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @orchidscript and @carlos-in-glasses thank you!

Have one final snippet from the Hallmark fic. It's finished, I am hoping to post it a chapter per day on the 21st, 22nd, 23rd, and 24th, depending on factors. But it's coming soon either way!

-

Carlos appears beside him with a tray of festive looking drinks, something red and fizzy in margarita glasses adorned with sprigs of rosemary. Marjan has an orange box in her hands and nudges Paul out of the way so she can begin to set the game up on the coffee table.

“I’ve never played this before,” TK tells them, before he remembers Marjan already knew that.

“Don’t worry, it’s fun.”

“We’ll teach you,” Paul adds. “It isn’t that complicated. And we play on teams so Carlos can help you.”

“Hey, who says I want the newbie on my team?” Carlos asks.

TK puts a faux-offended hand to his chest and Carlos winks at him, holding the tray out so Nancy can take a glass.

“Oh, no, that one’s TK’s,” he says, turning it on his palm to present her with a different one.

They all look the same, although when TK takes a closer look he notices a blue rubber band around the stem of the first glass Nancy had tried to take.

“Ooh, a special drink for his new man,” Nancy teases.

“Pull up some chairs, guys,” Marjan calls from where she’s settled cross-legged onto the floor.

“I don’t know how you sit like that,” Paul remarks as he tugs over a striped sofa chair.

“Prayer and yoga,” Marjan answers.

Carlos finishes making the rounds with the tray, getting to TK last. A few feet away from where the others are gathering, TK feels his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he tentatively asks, “Um, what is it?”

“Cranberry juice and ginger ale.” Carlos lifts the remaining glass up and quietly, so only TK can hear him, says, “I made you one without vodka. I can add some, if you want, though. I wasn’t sure.”

“Oh.” TK blinks.

He takes the drink, their fingers brushing over the stem of the glass as he does. It occurs to him that he never told Carlos he didn’t drink. Carlos knows so little about his history; TK revealed in a low moment outside the diner that he’d been to rehab, but that is the extent of Carlos’s knowledge on the subject. It strikes TK as surprisingly thoughtful, both that he remembered and that he made TK his own drink so TK wouldn’t have to turn a cocktail down in front of everyone, and he feels the warmth of that spreading down his neck and stirring in his stomach.

He looks up, realizing he’s gone too long without speaking and finding uncertainty in Carlos’s dark eyes. TK shakes his head and smiles. “No, this is … thank you.”

Carlos returns his smile, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders as he lifts his arm and briefly rubs TK between the shoulder blades.

Tagging @theghostofashton @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @birdclowns @thisbuildinghasfeelings @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @mooshkat @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom @inkweedandlizards @bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @freneticfloetry @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @jesuisici33 @tarlosluvr

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

Bean you're the best dude

So Im on a SB Daycare attendant spree rn because I'm not doing great and mans is comfort characters

Mayyyyyyyyyyyyy I perhaps get just random comfort with the daycare attendant?

FUCK THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY

Daycare Attendant x reader

Comfort

stoppp this gif is literally so cute

Work today had been…rough to say the least. Not even just today, all week you’ve been working your ass off around the daycare and in parts and service, but no matter what happened you always ended up missing something or doing it wrong. 

But, much to your relief, your shift was finally over, so you did what you always did at the end of a shift. You went to go see your boyfriends.

The walk to the daycare was uneventful, other than the fact that a map bot scared the ever loving shit out of you. When you finally got there, you decided to take the fun way down (AKA the slide) and sit in the ball pit for a bit. 

Sun’s sensors went off, indicating that someone had just gone down the slide. So, he did what he always did when someone came down the slide. He came out of his room and looked out before swan diving into the ball pit. Sun maneuvered under the plastic balls, being careful as not to be seen, before picking up the person by scooping his hands under their arms. “Hello! It’s quite late- Oh! Y/N! It’s so lovely to see you!” Sun exclaimed, excited.

“Hey, Sunny. It’s nice to see you too,” you respond, starting to try and wiggle out of his hold. Before you dropped back into the ball pit, however, Sun moved you so that you were being held bridal style.  “Sunny, put me down,” you whined.

“Nope! You worked today, so now you don’t have to do anything too exhausting. Like walking!”

You rolled your eyes but let him continue to carry you all the way to the child’s play area, where he sat you down at one of the mini-tables. He left you there, with a can of Fizzy-Fazz, as he went to grab some paper, coloring books, and crayons. Sun practically ran out, not wanting to make you wait too long. When he got back, he dropped them onto the table. “We’re gonna color now!” he exclaimed, grabbing a coloring book and placing it in front of you. 

For a little while, you two colored and talked about your day. Sun talked about how some of the kids and how they were so well behaved today, and you tried your best to talk about some of the good things about your day.

There weren’t a lot.

“Sunshine, what else happened today? Surely that can’t be everything!” Sun exclaimed. He knew that you always had a busy day, especially if he and Moon did. 

You grimaced a little bit and took a sip of your Fizzy-faz. “Work wasn’t great today, Sunny. I don’t wanna be a bother by dumping it on you two.”

“You aren’t gonna bother us! We’re here to help you, you know. You’re always so nice and gentle when you help with maintenance, and you always come and visit us when you finish a shift. The least we can do is help you out.” Sun sounded very gleeful as he went on and on about how amazing you were.

That rant lasted about 15 minutes before he realized that you hadn’t responded. He looked over at you and saw tears streaming down your face.

“Oh! Y/n, I’m sorry! Are you hurt? Did I upset you?”

“You didn’t upset him, dumbass. The sensors aren’t showing any sense of sadness,” Moon said from inside their shared headspace. 

“Moon! Language!” Sun responded, not realizing that he was talking out loud. 

You let out a small chuckle, already knowing the gist of what Moon said to the animatronic standing in front of you. Sun snapped back to attention and stood up, walking over to your side of the table. He picked you up, again, and gave you a long hug.

“You didn’t upset me, Sunny. It’s just… I really needed to hear that,” you say, your voice slightly muffled.

“I know, Sunshine. But you looked like you needed a hug.” You could hear the tremor in his voice and the way his fans were working harder to cool him down. Sun still wasn’t quite used to initiating affection, so the fact that he did makes him a little more flustered than usual. 

He pulls away for just a second to scoop you up, bridal position, and carry you up to his and Moon’s room. It’s not messy, exactly, but it also isn’t as spotless as the rest of the daycare. There’s a bed in the corner that the boys got after you started coming over after your shifts. 

Sun sets you down on said bed, making sure the stuffed animals themed around the other animatronics didn’t fall off the bed, before getting on himself. He looked awkward, his large body taking up a good bit of space on the bed. Not that you minded, of course.

The two of you cuddled, Sun as the big spoon, and you the little spoon. You rant about your week while Sun just holds you and nods along. You guys stay like that for a long time. You’re so deep in your rant that you don’t notice that the lights have turned off and Moon had come out. 

“And then Natasha had the gaul to tell me that I was an idiot for not doing it right! Like, she would have made the same fucking mistake!” 

“I’ll chat with her, if you’d like,” Moon said, rubbing a cool hand across your cheek.

You jumped slightly, but leaned into his touch. “You shouldn’t do that. She’ll get all defensive and probably get on my ass about it.”

Moon simply shrugged and pulled you closer to him. 

“How were the kids today?”

“They weren’t that bad. A few kids didn’t want to nap, so I let them color as the others slept.”

“That was nice of you.”

“What was I supposed to do, force them to sleep? That would have just made them upset and I’d have to deal with it.”

You smiled. Even though he didn’t want to admit it to anyone else, Moon was a big softie. “Of course, of course. Anything else?”

Moon hummed. “There was this one kid who was having a nightmare, so I woke her up and had her lay on me while I played my music box. She slept well after that.”

You stayed silent for a bit, debating whether or not you wanted to ask the question that was on your mind. 

“Could you… could you maybe turn it on now?” You asked, slightly nervous.

Moon made a noise of agreement and flipped a switch on his back. The sound of his music box filled your ears, and you felt a wave of exhaustion fall over you. Moon hummed along with the music, his voice box a good match for the pitch. Your eyes started to become too heavy to keep open, and you fell asleep.

[monster-every-day]

day 60 - 2/29/24 - LAGOLEAP

Lagoleaps only live on leapdays. Once leap day is over, they vanish from existence for the next four years.

Because of this, they live on a timescale we cannot possibly comprehend. They experience one day every four years. To them, the world changes overnight, and becomes unrecognizable within a week. Generations of humans pass within a month. One year for them is 1,460 years for us.

Do you know how long a rabbit lives?

Eight to twelve years.

On the low end, a lagoleap can live for 11,680 years.

And it will only experience eight of them.

The entirety of human civilization has happened within a single lagoleap's lifetime.

And it doesn't even know. It perceives time just as any rabbit would. It still only lives for eight years. They're just spread out impossibly far. From its perspective, it is just a normal rabbit, and every time it goes to sleep, the world changes.

Imagine, if you will. You are a small child. Six years old. It is a leap day. And you find an ethereal rosegold rabbit. You befriend it. You pet it, feed it, play with it, brush its fur. You bring it home with you. Sneak it past your parents, into your bedroom. Tell it goodnight, and to have sweet dreams, and that you'll see it in the morning.

When the sun rises, it's gone without a trace. Being a small child, you cry. Your friend has vanished. Your parents don't understand what has happened. You can't tell them you snuck a rabbit into the house! You're left to grieve all on your own, six years old.

Four years later, you enter your bedroom, ready to flop onto your bed after a long day of middle school. But there you see it. A golden glow, just where it was four years ago, as if it never left. You can't believe your eyes. You feel like you must be hallucinating, but why?

The rabbit hops up to you - thump, thump, thump - and hops in circles around you.

You reach down to confirm if it is real.

It is.

You stroke its fur, just as fizzy as ever.

It doesn't look any different from the day you met it.

You look like a completely different person. It's been four years. How does it recognize you? You don't know, of course, that it only met you yesterday, and remembers your scent.

You cherish every moment with the rabbit this day. Feed it tasty berries, cuddle it, give it all the love you can muster. After all, who knows when it will vanish again?

Immediately. The very next day, it's gone. Again.

Every four years, the rabbit appears to you again, exactly where you last left it, exactly the same as it was the day you met it. It continues like this for every major milestone in your life.

Oh, I should clarify - this story is not about you. I'm just putting you in someone's shoes for a moment.

Anyway, as I was saying. You graduate high school. Go to college. Get a job. Move out. Fall in love. Introduce the rabbit to your partner. Experience heartbreak. Fall in love again. And again. And get married. Introduce the rabbit to your spouse.

And one day, you will introduce the rabbit to your children.

And one day, you will introduce the rabbit to your grandchildren.

And one day, they will introduce the rabbit to their grandchildren.

And the rabbit will not have changed.

The leaplago is a remarkable creature indeed.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

How bout some daycare attendant headcanons/fic or whatever/lh, where reader's a janitor that always tries their best to help Sun/Moon clean up after the kids are gone,

maybe one day sun eventually tries banning them temporarily because he doesn't want moon to get them, but moon ends up coming around when the power goes off anyways, maybe since reader always helps them moon isn't as violent towards them as other staff/people?/lh

- salt anon

Being a janitor at the Mega Pizzaplex is probably a job nobody wanted..but for you, money’s money.

Although it’s not always about your paychecks, but the interactions you have with the animatronics, especially the Daycare Attendant.

You’re mainly stationed as daycare janitor, cleaning up any spills while Sun focused on organizing all the toys and supplies.

You genuinely like each other’s company (especially when you let him rant about how messy the kids were today).

He gives you free Sundrop candies and Fizzy Faz to get you through your shift (which you always appreciate).

However, you never got to interact with Moon--or even see him at all. You overheard coworkers saying he was unusually aggressive to staff (bot and human alike) lately, though no effort was made to fix him as he didn’t threaten any kids.

Plus you began to notice how Sun tends to escort you out of the play area before it shifts to nighttime.

He reassures you the STAFF bots will handle any messes made, though your supervisor overhears this and is like “are you paying their salary, robot? Don’t tell them how to do their job”.

Sun knows he shouldn’t. But he’s afraid Moon will hurt you as he hasn’t been himself lately.

So when you go in for cleanup one night after the kids leave, he tries to place a temporary ban under your name and attempts to literally drag you out of the daycare himself.

Obviously you struggle, wondering what on earth was so horrible about Moon that he refused to let you see him-

Then the power goes out, and Sun panics.

But he quickly turns into Moon, who just stares at you silently once the transformation is complete.

You get a little worried and wonder if you should’ve believed Sun’s warning about him being dangerous..

Fortunately, he realizes you’re the respectful and kind janitor, thus he leaves you alone and lets you do your job.

Overall he’s just quiet, watching you work from the shadows, “flying” over your head”, and giving you (playful) scares whenever you approach the slides. 

He’s a bit of a prankster, but you don’t mind it.

The next day Sun acts like nothing happened, though he insists you’re still careful around his nighttime counterpart.

[hairrington]

Fighting with Fire

Summary: Life has been too hectic to start a relationship, so you're not looking for anything serious. When a fellow bar patron you remember from high school named Steve Harrington re-enters your life, it makes you rethink things.

In which Steve pines/pains for female reader even though she warns him that she's not looking for a relationship. Takes place in S4, P1. CW: substance use, lime. Requested by anon. Based on "Love on the Brain" by Rihanna. Gif credit: raquelsgifs.

Hawkins' best bar is The Stingray. And that's because, and only because, everyone knows they don't check ID's. Everything else about it kind of sucks.

You'd been to the establishment a few times in high school, but it became a go-to spot since you entered sophomore year in college.

The college is two hours away from your hometown of Hawkins - you visit home every two or three weeks, but even though your time at the house is limited now, you still need breaks from your parents. Especially with the way this year is going.

So you come to the dodgy but usually peaceful Stingray, order a beer, listen to the rock playing on the speakers, and give yourself a chance to think, outside of your tiny dorm and outside of your family home. Even with the bar's limited drink choice and sticky floors, it's better than nothing.

It’s Friday night of Spring Break, and instead of partying up at college, you’re burnt out, nursing a beer at the bar. You look down at your drink, turning the glass in your hands as it rests on the counter.

Sophomore year has hit you like a truck. First year was hard enough, but now your classes have gotten ten times more challenging, your new roommate is a nightmare, and you feel like your body has forgotten how to have fun. On top of all that, you keep a happy face around your family so they won't worry about how stressed out you really are.

Here, at The Stingray, you don’t have to pretend. You can just exist. And even though the light beer will do nothing to change your mood or state of mind, it's the experience that calms you down.

Down the bar, a row of seats away, Steve Harrington is sipping on a ginger-ale. It's not because he doesn't want alcohol. It's because he never knows when he's going to have to spring into action. This past week has been a whirlwind. Before this week, life had gotten back to normal after the Starcourt fire, even with some of the group gone to California. His days were predictable.

Not anymore. A creature they'd all called Vecna had caused grotesque murders in Hawkins, reestablishing the citizens' belief in a town-wide curse. He'd just watched Max almost get taken away from them, got attacked by demobats, and gotten some seriously mixed messages from his ex, Nancy.

He, said ex, Robin, and Eddie had just safely escaped the Upside Down via a gate in Eddie's trailer a few hours ago, and he desperately needs time to decompress. So he went home, took a shower, reapplied clean bandages, and made his way over here to finally be alone.

But when he notices you across the bar, sitting in a stool and staring down at your drink, he knows you look familiar.

Steve runs through his memories, then finally settles on what he's been looking for: he knows you from his twelfth grade history class. And you're even prettier than he remembers.

Steve came here to relax - and what better way to do that than to flirt with a pretty girl? Taking his glass of ginger-ale, and hoping you don't notice he's drinking a fizzy soda meant to relieve upset tummies, he slides in the stool kitty-corner from you.

When Steve approaches you, your instinct is to get annoyed. This is your time to be alone. But when you see the familiar handsome face, your knee-jerk reaction is to smile.

"I know you," he says, his voice smooth. You want to play it cool - of course you know him, too. It's Steve Harrington. Good-looking, charming, everybody-likes-him Steve Harrington. You won't give him the satisfaction of showing you remember him, though.

"From school?" you ask, playing clueless.

"Yeah. Steve," he says, unfazed. "You were in my history class."

After giving him your name, you think back to that class you hadn't thought about in two years.

"That class was brutal," you say, remembering the amount of essays you were assigned. It was nothing compared to the ones you were in now - but you didn't want to give him a sob story. At least not this soon into the conversation.

"I think I finished with a C," Steve recalls, ruffling his hair, suddenly self-conscious as you look at him.

"I can't even remember," you say. "Feels like ages ago."

"What are you up to now?" Steve asks. He's hopeful you're like him - still stuck in Hawkins, working a dead-end job.

"I go to State," you answer. Steve swallows hard, dreading having to answer when it's his turn. "Visiting home now and this is where I come to just... take a break from everything."

"Oh," Steve says as embarrassment pangs his chest. "Shit, I don't mean to bother you-"

"You aren't," you answer truthfully and maybe a little to eagerly. He gives you a heart-stopping smile. Yup, he somehow got even hotter since high school.

"So, you're taking a break," he says. "Stressed?"

"Only when I'm awake," you answer. It makes Steve chuckle. He knows about that, too.

"What are you studying?"

You tell him your major and start to vent a bit - about your schedule, your due dates, your lack of sleep. Afterwards, you sigh. So much for no sob story.

"Sorry to unload like that," you say. Steve doesn't care - you're cute and you're talking to him. He's happy.

"In a weird way, it's refreshing," Steve tells you. "I keep hearing about how awesome college is. It gets old."

You smirk, surmising that he must be either working or just living off his parents' dime. You remember that he was wealthy in high school. Probably still is.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be, trust me," you admit. You take a slow pull of your beer.

"You come down often?" Steve asks.

"Maybe twice a month, give or take," you answer. "Although it's been scary around here lately. My parents are one more news story from packing up and moving out of here."

Steve nods, looking down into the bubbles of his drink, thinking back to all he'd seen today. The news stories don't even begin to cover what's really happening in Hawkins.

"I keep hearing stuff about the town being cursed," Steve says. "Makes you wonder why bad things keep hitting us." He doesn't wonder. He knows why. But he's not about to tell a girl at a bar that monsters exist and he fights them sometimes.

"So, how do you spend your time in this terrifying place?" you ask, half-joking.

"I work down at the video store," Steve tells you, eager to change the subject. You, however, are not.

"Do you get to watch movies at work?" you ask with an adorable smile.

"We're not allowed to, but we do when it's slow," he says. This earns another smile from you. "Just finished that Ferris Bueller one."

"That's a good one," you say. "But high school is never like the movies, is it?"

"No shitty history classes, for one," Steve says with a tilt of his head. You laugh, resting your chin in your hands, thinking Steve Harrington could be the perfect distraction.

You spend the next hour talking about movies, music, and where people from high school are now. Steve lives up to the reputation he always had - he's charming and confident and admittedly cool - but he surprises you with his kindness and what a good listener he is. You didn't come here looking for a hook-up, but you think you just found one.

Your beer is long finished and you would've left by now, but the conversation is too good to abandon. The bar, however, starts to get more packed and it gets harder to hear each other.

You compensate by speaking louder and getting closer, which gives you a chance to see up close why Steve was always known for his good looks, when finally you get impatient.

"It's loud in here," you tell him, frustrated enough by the noise to just suggest what you've been thinking about for the past while. "My car's just outside. You wanna just hang out there?"

Steve doesn't need to be asked twice. As he follows you out of the bar, he realizes he hasn't thought about the mess of the Upside Down for over an hour now. You're interesting, sweet, and best of all, fun. He needs fun.

When the two of you settle into the car, parked along the side of the building, there is no more noise to distract you. You look at each other with mirrored smiles. God, he's handsome.

"My ears are still ringing," Steve jokes, mainly just to say something.

"I'm usually out of there by this time," you say. You look at your watch - it's well past 11:00. "I never asked you what you were doing there."

"Same as you," he says. "Needed a breather."

He hopes you don't follow up - thankfully you're too eager to kiss him to do so.

When you lean forward, Steve closes the distance quickly, meeting your lips with his.

Fingers tangle in hair and find their way under shirts, and a few minutes in, you pull back, breathing quickly, to give him a disclaimer you doubt he needs.

"I'm not looking for anything serious, okay?" you say.

"Fine by me," Steve says, eager to get back to kissing you. It's intoxicating for him. He'd been on dates recently, but he hadn't felt connected to anyone like this in a very long time.

He wonders to himself if he even felt connected to Nancy like he does to you after just one conversation.

The windows fog as you two continue to make out, and when it starts to get heated, Steve kissing your neck, lips sucking, you lightly moan.

"This is as far as I take it in a car," you tell him breathily. "And I don't have a place we can go."

"I do," he says, then steels and pulls back. "Shit. I don't." His parents, usually away, are actually home. Just his luck.

You look at each other, knowing what this means. You sigh, grabbing your purse to fish out a pen, and take his palm, realizing just how big his hands are. You ink your phone number onto his skin.

"Call me when you do," you say with a giggle. "I should be getting home."

Steve is dejected. He was having an amazing time with you. But he just smirks, giving you a parting kiss on the cheek, and heads towards his own car, alone.

---

The next night, you're poring over an unbelievably boring textbook in your old bedroom when you hear the phone ring. You let your mom or dad pick it up, but when your mom shouts up the stairs that it's for you, you pick up the receiver resting on your desk.

"Hello?"

"So, you didn't give me a fake number," Steve says on the other end.

"Ah, crap, I meant to," you say. "Muscle memory, though."

Steve lowly chuckles on the other end and it sends butterflies raging in your stomach.

"I got the place to myself," Steve tells you. Admittedly, Steve was elated when his parents left to go over to friends'. He knew they always stayed pretty late and it gave him the perfect opportunity to call the girl who'd be on his mind all day.

"Tonight?" you ask.

"Yeah," he says. "We should be good until around midnight. Maybe later." Excited, you ask for Steve's address and start getting ready right away.

When you pull up to Steve's street, you realize he must have said "the place" because "house" would have been inaccurate. It's a damn mansion.

When he opens the door, he's standing under warm lighting instead of the patchy bar lightbulbs and dark car you'd seen him in. You realize just how bright his smile is, how hazel his eyes are.

"Hey," he says casually. In reality, he's nervous as hell.

"Hi." You step in.

"Did you eat? I could order a pizza," he says.

"I had dinner," you say. He shuts the door behind you.

"Okay, cool," he says. "I got some movies if you want to watch something."

"Sure," you say, knowing over five minutes of whatever film you pick will not be viewed.

Sure enough, you're making out on the couch in a matter of minutes, picking up right where you left off. Steve is good with his lips and even better with his hands, and you revel in the pleasure he gives you.

He asks you your expectations, and when you tell him you don't want to go all the way but do want to get pretty close to it, Steve is more than happy. You two fool around and both of you think you click so well that it feels like you'd done it before - but neither of you mention that to each other.

Shortly after, you're back in the conditions you were in when you first arrived, but much more relaxed. With Steve lying on the couch and you propped up next to him, he looks down at you, running his fingers up and down your arm.

"That was fun," he says, making you giggle.

"I like fun," you reply.

"Me, too," Steve says. "I'm glad I bothered you last night."

"You didn't," you says with a laugh. "You actually took my mind off a lot. And that's hard to do."

"Same for me," he says.

"I know this defeats the purpose," you say. You look up at him, trying to focus on his next words and not on how he smells like the sexiest combination of cologne and hairspray. "But what were you trying to take your mind off of?"

He can't answer honestly, but he can get close.

"Hawkins and all the crazy shit going on," Steve says. "I care about a lot of people around here. I don't want them to get hurt."

Steve thinks about Robin, Dustin, the rest of the kids. You stop for a moment to take his words in.

"That is way more noble than my whining about college," you say. "And now I feel like a brat." Steve laughs, throwing his head back as he puts a warm hand on your shoulder.

"You heading back tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say. "Got a group presentation Monday. Then an exam on Wednesday. See, this is why I can't have a boyfriend. I barely have a minute to myself."

You chuckle, but hope you've made yourself clear.

"What's your dorm phone number? So I can call you if your roommate ever stops hogging the phone." You laugh, surprised he remembers that detail from your rant the night before.

"I'll just call you when I'm back in town," you say. It's worrying. Steve calling you back at campus may get into boyfriend territory - territory you just stated that you do not want to travel.

Your answer stings, but Steve tells himself to drill a very important fact into his head before he gets too excited: you're not interested in a relationship. You just said so.

"When will that be?" he asks, immediately regretting the words. That might be too needy.

"Probably in a couple of weeks," you answer. You hope this man isn't getting too attached. You have zero capacity for a boyfriend right now.

"Cool," Steve tries to say smoothly. The two of you restart the movie and don't talk about who should call whom again.

---

The following Wednesday, you get a call from your mother reminding you about your cousin's birthday party that Saturday. A party you completely forgot about. You sigh to yourself, already dreading the drive.

You had meant to ask your best friend from Hawkins to come with you - but she was booked solid at her part-time job that weekend.

You think of Steve. Sweet, charming, fun Steve.

You hesitate before calling him, concerned he'll see this as more than it is - it's just a no-strings attached date. But you figure it's fine.

When Steve answers the phone and realizes it's you, his heart begins to race. It feels traitorous almost - you've said twice now that you're not looking for a boyfriend.

"Sure, that sounds fun," Steve says after you tell him the details.

"You sure?" you say. "Again, this is a tenth birthday party."

Steve laughs. He doesn't want to say it, but he thinks going anywhere with you would be fun.

***

When Saturday rolls around, Steve puts extra attention into how he looks. As he fixes his hairstyle in the mirror, he wonders if he's handsome enough, you'll change your mind on not wanting a boyfriend.

He knows it's ridiculous, and at this point, he's only torturing himself by hanging out with you, but he's never been very good at taking a balanced approach.

Everything has been going wrong - Vecna still hadn't been defeated and the group was just as confused about who he was since everything started. He needed something to take his mind off of things.

You had given him the address, and when knocks on the door and a woman he doesn't know answers, he asks for your name. The house is already a circus - children are screaming and adults are running around - but when the stranger who opened the door points to you, Steve's stomach goes numb.

"Hey!" you say sweetly, walking up to him. He's surprised when you wrap your arms around him, loving the smell of your perfume. "Thank you for coming. My aunt is insane. I need a friend. And a drink."

Steve gives you a forced smile at the word "friend." He's been able to casually date before and have relationships that are solely focused on the physical stuff, but it's never been this hard for him to know it's not going anywhere.

"Turns out they only have apple juice," you say.

"You're telling me there's no booze at this kids' party?"

"I was shocked, too," you joke. He laughs. You take a moment to notice just how nice his smile is.

The very aunt you were just talking about paces by, stopping to intrude as usual.

"You make a very cute couple," you aunt says.

"Again, we're just cute friends," you answer with a shake of your head. "But thank you."

She starts talking with Steve, and he's just as charming as ever, making conversation and asking all the right questions. He's be a great boyfriend in another world for another girl, but not here and not now.

You're inseparable the whole party, and you find out Steve is pretty good with kids. He looks to you a few times to translate what your toddler cousins are saying, but that's really the only support he needs.

After presents and cake, you give Steve a squeeze on the arm and smile.

"You did me a huge favor coming today," you tell him. He gazes into your eyes, unable to comprehend just how beautiful you are.

"It was fun," he says.

"You're just being nice."

"Am not."

"Are you free tonight?" you ask. After a full day of being charmed by Steve, you're eager to be alone with him with less clothes separating you.

"Yes," he answers without thinking.

***

That evening, your parents turn in early, and feeling like you're in high school again, you sneak a boy up to your room.

Steve seems pretty experienced with climbing through windows. This isn't surprising.

You immediately pull him towards you, meeting his lips and hoping he has the same thing in mind as you. He does.

Afterwards, you're lying in your bed with him, his arm wrapped around you, your cheek resting on his warm chest. It was amazing - just as you expected. You trace your fingers down Steve's abdomen, getting amused when he lightly jerks away.

"Ticklish?" you whisper.

"That's private," he says. You stifle a laugh not to wake your parents up. You look up at him, eyes travelling over his face.

"What happened here?" you ask. You had noticed the scar on his jaw before, but didn't want to ask. But Steve was intriguing. And he didn't seem closed off at all.

He can't be honest. He can't tell you it was a Russian soldier pummeling him for information. And if he did, he'd have to make sure you're sticking around. You've made it clear you're not.

"You know that fire that happened at the mall?" he asks. Your heart sinks. "It wasn't easy getting out."

Steve wonders if you can feel his increased heart-rate.

"Oh, my God," you say. "You were there?"

Steve nods, looking into your stunning eyes. He tells himself he better not be falling in love.

"Steve, that's insane," you say, resting your cheek back down on his chest. "I'm so glad you're okay."

If this is how you act with friends, Steve can only daydream about what a good girlfriend you'd be.

He stays until 3 am, whisper-talking with you for hours about anything and everything. Parting from you leaves a hole in his chest. As he quietly makes his way to his car parked down the street, he realizes he's too into you to walk away from this unscathed.

***

Tuesday morning, Steve is driving to work with Robin in the passenger seat. His mind is consumed by you.

He knows if he told you about the reality of his life - the fact that the Upside Down exists and that he's fought monsters both human and unhuman - you'd give him that supportive, caring look he's gotten so used to.

"...to figure it out. What do you think?" Robin asks.

"What?" Steve asks.

"You weren't listening to a word, were you?" she mutters.

"I'm..." Steve sighs. "It's a girl."

"When isn't it?" Robin scoffs.

"This time is different," Steve says. And it is. His recent girl problems seemed so surface-level now. He’s in love with you and he knows continuing to see you will just be torture.

But he knows he'll keep coming back for more.

***

It'd been a full week since you talked to Steve. That night in your bedroom was amazing - but it was very intimate. Romantic. Relationship territory.

Life has been too rough for you to worry about having a boyfriend. You felt you could hardly be your own person, let alone a girlfriend.

But when you've had one of the worst days of your life, you find you'd rather call him than be alone. Your roommate is visiting family a state away, so you call him that Saturday evening to come over.

Steve knows he's being an idiot saying yes, but he agrees to drive all the way up to you, two whole hours, just to kiss and touch you the way he'd only do with a girlfriend, with a girl who is looking for nothing serious with him at all.

He appears at the door with your favorite fast food and a big smile on his face.

"How did you know my favorite?" you ask, sort of amazed.

"I have a memory?" Steve answers with a sweet smile.

You invite him in and eat dinner with him. Steve steals glances of the posters and photos up on your side of the room as you sit at your desk together.

He asks questions about the photos and you answer them, telling Steve who the friends and family captured in the polaroids are. He recognizes some of the people from your cousin's birthday party, and it makes your heart warm with endearment.

"Why was today so bad?" Steve asks. You had vaguely told him on the phone that it was a rough one, but never went into it.

Steve listens as you tell him about the stress of your classes and how you're not sure you'll pass this year. You look so troubled, so stressed, and he wants so badly to take the pain away for you.

When you begin to cry, he pulls you in. Your face is nuzzled in his neck and you smell his familiar, comforting aroma. He lets you cry - just cry - and when you pull away, you see he looks heartbroken.

"I'm sorry," you sniffle.

"Don't be," he says. "I'm here for you."

"Why?" you laugh, wondering what it is about you that keeps him around.

"Because you're... great," he tells you. Perfect is too intense to say, he thinks.

"You drove two hours just to hear me cry and you're not even my boyfriend," you say. The last part comes out harsh. You didn't mean it to.

"What's with the constant reminders?" he asks. Steve's features harden. He knew he'd get hurt.

"I didn't mean..." you sigh. "I thought it was fine with you."

"It was, but..." Steve runs a hand through his hair. "It feels like we do all the relationship stuff without the titles."

"Why are the titles important?" you ask.

"They just are," he answers, frustrated. You're angry. The first night, he told you he was okay with this situation. As if he can read your mind, he speaks again.

"When we met, I didn't know this is what would happen," he says. "But you're right. I'm not your boyfriend."

Yet he's falling for you, tripping into a trap he thought he wouldn't trip into.

You take a deep breath in. You feel like he's seconds away from leaving. You sit across from each other, you on your bed and he on your desk chair in your quiet dorm room. Steve is undeniably the sweetest man you've ever known. But you fear that you can't give him what he wants.

"I'm a shitty girlfriend," you say. "You've seen what a mess my life is right now. I'd do nothing but stress you out."

"The only thing stressing me out is how you don't want to be with me and I can't figure out why."

"I just told you. I suck at relationships."

"So that's an excuse to never try?" he says.

You swallow hard and gaze down at your lap.

"You want me to try?" you ask.

"Obviously!" he exclaims. You meet Steve's hazel eyes and chew on your bottom lip. He's worth it. He's so worth it.

"I'm gonna suck at this," you warn him. His heart blooms at your words.

"Gonna?" he repeats. He smiles widely at you and you smile back. Steve is worth the risk. You know that now. You just wish you saw it sooner.

"You wanna do this?" you ask. "Really?"

"Really," he repeats. Steve kisses you deeply and it feels more vulnerable than all the other kisses you had shared.

You're gonna do this. If anyone is worth the risk, it's Steve Harrington. As he kisses you, he thinks the same about you.

---

Taglist:  @calpurniatypes; @rexorangecouny; @slashersluttt; @baker151910; @ultrunning; @prettyboisteveharrington: @sunflowersturn; @mychemicalsleep; @milkiane; @alicetweven; @daenerystheradnotmad​

[theminiartblog]

The Storm Will Be Over Soon

The little drabble I made for the DCAH writing contest~ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

One dark, stormy, Halloween night rolled around at the Pizzaplex. The day had been busy, but the evening hours had been even more hectic. Kids were hopped up on sugar and Fizzy Faz, dressed in their best costumes, and waiting to either go trick or treating, or spending time in the Daycare as they waited for their older sibling to have their fill of pizza and fun. 

The lights in the daycare were dimmed for the night too, not for naptime, but to let the dual daycare animatronic play a game of Jekyll and Hyde, and switch as they pleased. Not too dark, not too bright, just right. It wasn't often that the two were able to do so, as it bugged their sensors just a tad, but they were too happy to get to share time together to mind it much. It was nice, seeing them work together, playing switch-a-roo games and voice swaps, and their quick change skills were top notch. Moon was dressed as a true creature of the night, cloaked as a vampire, while Sun was a happy, perky werewolf, with two fuzzy ears attached to two of his rays. The ears were gray in color, with piercings on the side just like Roxy's. He joked that he could give Roxy a run for her money looking like this. The kids argued however that Roxy was always the best, and they liked him just the way he was. That certainly made him swell with pride.

Meanwhile, you, who were almost always in costume on account of uniform, were able to let loose a little; dressed as a spooky little demon with a silly red horned headband. The rest of the outfit was pretty casual however, with a rare Halloween themed Fazbear shirt, and a comfy pair of slacks. You had allowed the boys to choose the headgear the day before. It was either that or become a kitty cat. Sun joked that he might have to chase you, being a werewolf and all, wiggling his fingers at you menacingly.

“Nooo, anything but that.” You laughed, batting him away, “I don't know how many lives I've got left!”

In the end we already know the winner.

All that fun was about an hour ago though, as the last child was now waiting to go home. Moon was keeping that final kid entertained, and you were taking a bit of a breather, sitting on the playmats, hydrating, and even having a few pieces of leftover candy. All of a sudden however, it had gotten pretty quiet. Peeking an eye open, you looked to where you’d had last seen the naptime attendant, he was much harder to miss than a tiny tot, but he was nowhere to be seen. Slowly you stood. Where had they gone?

The rain had picked back up, and there surely must have been a flash of lightning as the air around you boomed with thunder. Startled, you flinched, and a child yelped from nearly right behind you. Turning around quickly you were suddenly met with not only Moon behind you, but what looked like a big spider too. You let out a screech of your own, quickly jumping back. The child, getting their second wind, jumped forward out from under Moon's cape, and the two little jokesters shouted, ”Boo!“

In Moon’s hand was a dangling toy spider, and your face flushed.

”You guys!“ You whine, taking a few deep breaths. ”That wasn't funny.“ You continue with shaky laughter. You try to look mad, but the sheer embarrassment could only provide a wobbly smile. The child giggled wildly, and Moon gave a giggle of his own.

”I told him not to do it!“ Sun chimed in, with a rotation of their head, rays peeking out as the daytime attendant’s voice took over. “Oh please, it was a harmless prank.” Moon replied, pushing back. You could only shake your head.

A knock at the door, and it seemed that the child's parents had finally come to pick them up. The child hurried over, and Sun quickly took charge to follow them and bid them a safe farewell. You watched the two toddle off, and rolled up your figurative sleeves. While that was being taken care of, now seemed like a good time to start cleaning up. Toys back in their places, candy wrappers and empty snack containers into the trash, and blankets folded nice and neat after some kids just couldn’t last the night and needed a good nap. Sun started to help as well, finishing up with the check-out and that made things all the faster.

“Sorry again!” Sun piped up.

You cock your head to the side. “Sorry for what?”

“The joke! Bad timing is all. We didn't mean to scare you along with the thunder.“

”Oh! That, no it’s fine. It was just a prank. Don't worry I wasn't actually mad.“ You smile. ”But thank you anyway, you're so swee-EEP!” 

Another roar of thunder, and you tensed. Shoot. Don’t be such a baby, you chanted in your head. Sun turned his head towards the sound of thunder, before beginning to reach for you. ”You know if you'd like we can-“

Another big boom, and suddenly the lights went out. You let out a yelp, as pitch darkness took over and something seemed to grab you. You dared to open your eyes, and were met with bright red ones, having been swept off of your feet in an instant.

”M-Moon?“ You croaked out.

It only took a moment before the generators kicked in, and the space was filled with light once more, but Moon stayed back from the direct beams of light before sitting down, cross legged and placing you down in his lap. Removed from his embrace, his hands moved to the sides of your face, covering your ears. You could still hear, but a bit muffled.

A gentle tune began to play, quiet and soothing, their music box. You look up at him confused.

“Don't worry, the storm will be over soon.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Find the AO3 OC version here

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Two (Part 2)

We sit in the beer garden of a lively pub near Smithfield square, and the sky is blue and perfect and birds are chirping high in the trees whose branches overhang the muraled walls. Izzy wants to get drinks for everyone, and when she asks me what I want I shrug. “Oh, I don’t really feel like drinking.” I say, not adding in the part about how I’ve been avoiding drinking alcohol at all in front of people I don’t know very well lately. 

“That’s fine.” She says immediately. “I’ll fetch you a club orange or something?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” She goes away then and I’m a bit startled. I was expecting her to force me to have something alcoholic, but she didn’t. She didn’t even ask me why I’m abstaining, and I didn’t have to make up some excuse about antibiotics. Nobody else seems to care about it either, and when she brings our drinks to the table on a little round tray, nobody makes any designated driver jokes, they just take their ciders and their beers and have them without even batting an eye at my fizzy drink. 

“So do you like NCAD?” Simon asks me, drawing me out of my own head. I nod. “Yeah, it’s alright. I preferred it in second year where we got to specialise into something more specific. The general nature of first year didn’t do it for me so much.”

“I was the same when I was there, you get lumped in with all the weirdos too.” He laughs, and so does Izzy, and I realise that NCAD being full of oddballs probably is a universal experience, rather than something specific to my year. 

“Was there someone in your year who made their final project using their own period blood?” Izzy wants to know, and I’m taken aback by her question. I wonder where she heard about Marnie’s menstrual cup sculpture.

“Yeah, there was.” 

“Yeah there’s at least one of them every year. They always love doing that.”

“In my year some lad made a film of him wanking himself off and put the stills from it on the walls.” Simon comments. 

“Oh my God.” Says Gabriel with disgust. “What is wrong with this college?”

“It’s just all these fine arts people in one big room together, it’s bound to get weird.” Izzy says. “When I specialised in print it was way more civilised.”

“My girlfriend did ceramics though.” Says Simon. “And there was a girl in hear class who made a cast of-”

“Enough!” Cries Gabriel. “I can’t hear about these depraved people. It was not like this for me, I hate it.”

Petra arrives then and gets herself a pint of cider, she’s carrying a little Mezzotint bag, and Gabriel wants to know what’s in it. 

“One of those ceramic bud vases that came in this morning.” She says. “Evie and I were admiring them.”

“Yeah Simon’s girlfriend did them.” Says Izzy. “A very nepotistic addition to the Mezzotint shop, in my opinion.” Then she punches his arm. “I’m joking, she’s brill.”

We go back to chatting, and I try not to think about how cool and intimidating every one of them is. I felt the same way on my first day in the studio two weeks ago, and it hasn’t faded much as I’ve gotten to know them. Izzy is talking about a gig that’s coming up in a couple of weeks that she’s rehearsing for. She sings with a band sometimes called Earthworm and makes us all promise to come and watch them play. I realise that in the two years I’ve lived in Dublin I’ve never gone to a gig. It feels like a very strange thing, considering how many opportunities there were, but Marnie or Dean were never interested in music, and so I wasn’t either. 

She’s talking about the songs they’re thinking about doing when Simon is distracted by the arrival of his girlfriend. “Oh, here she is.” He says with a grin, and we all look around to see a petite, dark haired girl come into the beer garden with a big pint of blackcurrant in her hand. I do a double take. That’s Michelle Tengu. That’s Jude’s ex. She comes over and settles into the seat next to Simon and he hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her into him to kiss her hair. 

“Hi guys.” She says in droll, northside cadence. “How are ye getting on?” I wait anxiously for her to notice me. Or not notice me, as there is every chance I left so little of an impression on her both times that we met, but she frowns at me with recognition. “Oh, hi.”

“That’s Evie, our intern.” Simon tells her.

“No, I actually know you.” She says. “You’re Jen’s friend, right? We met you a good while ago in a cocktail bar.”

“You did, yeah.” I say, and then hesitate. “How is Jen?”

“Yeah she’s… well, you know, the usual.”

“Oh right.” I don’t ask what she’s up to, because once I start talking about her, I’ll have to think about her, and thinking about Jen will always lead to thinking about Jude, and thinking too much about either her or Jude makes me feel completely sick with guilt. I haven’t spoken to either of them in over a year, and even though once, last year, I saw Jen in the deli queue in Supervalu, but I didn’t go over to say hello to her. I just paced through the aisles of the supermarket pretending to be looking for something until I saw her checking out and leaving. 

“Aw, Jen is the best.” Says Izzy. “We love her, what a sweetheart! I can’t believe you know her. This really is a small town.”

“Yeah it is…” I say, frowning into my Club Orange. For some reason I feel uneasy. Like it’s all about to start getting even smaller. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[dragonjesterwrites]

Can I ask for a headcanon on how Sun and Moon would deal with a kid reader who's a serial climber/gargoyle kid? An example of what I mean by that is a kid who feels the need to be in high places and as soon as you look away they've already climbed out of reach, so Sun could turn around and suddenly reader is perched at the very top of the tallest play structure and crouched like a gargoyle, silent and watching people calmly for hours staring in a way that creeps other kids out.

And like, they will even try to sleep up there during naptime and somehow they never take a bad fall, they know how to land safely like a mini parkour runner,(because they're a fan of it and learned from YouTube videos how to do this) they could easily escape over the wall of the daycare if they wanted to and have done so (because they wanted to use the vending machine) but they do come back, only they don't use the slide, they just come back the same way they escaped?

Sorry if this is a bit long and hope you're having a good day.

Nonnie are you me? I was this kid sgshjsks (there was this great big oak tree in the yard of my primary school, I used to climb it to escape to the nearby market and just wander around until someone came and got me, it was loads of fun.)

And thank you, I hope you're having a good day too! 😁 It's not too long at all btw, I love when people send me detailed asks, gives me more to work with 👌

Sun and Moon dealing with a Gremlin Child HCs

☀️

Kids disappear from sight all the time; of course Sun worries, but they almost always pop out of the jungle gym or the ballpit a minute later. It's when he hasn't seen them in a good five minutes that he really begins to get concerned.

He checks the usual hiding spots- lots of kids get overwhelmed and crawl away into the darker, quieter areas. If he can't find them there, he starts looking around the top of the jungle gym. That's usually where he finds the kids he and Moon affectionately refer to as Rascals.

And, sure enough, there you are, perched on top of the very highest point of the gym, with a pile of goodies surrounding you like a miniature dragon's hoard. Relief floods him at the same time anxiety does- his programming shrieking at him to get you down right away before you fall. But of course the first several attempts at persuading you to come down/carry you down are failures, you're having way too much fun.

Sun doesn't like using the timeout corner, so he's borrowed some of those kiddy leashes from the lost and found. Naturally, the simple clasp does not stop you- in the 10 seconds he turned his back, you're already gone and halfway back to your perch- although, in exasperated hindsight, Sun supposes he shouldn't be surprised. If basic survival instinct and respect for authority didn't work, what was a piece of plastic going to do?

He ends up allowing you to stay there- it's more dangerous to go up and try to herd you down, you're still and content when he leaves you alone. But he still sends worried glances up every now and then.

🌙

Ah, a Rascal. With most kids, Moon would try various coaxing techniques, or simply talk to the child, find out why they didn't want to sleep- it was usually a toss up between fear of the dark, of nightmares, of monsters, or simply being too hyped up on Fizzy Faz and adrenaline to rest. Reading a story, sitting by the child to protect them, lavender scented stuffies, or a quick jog around the Daycare usually helped, with Moondrops as a last resort. But with Rascals? Straight to Moondrops, because otherwise they'd be gone in a flash, and candy usually tempted even them. But you're fast, and in the seconds it takes him to pull out the candy, you're gone.

He chuckles and goes up to check the hoard Sun told him about, but you're not there either. He turns to scan the other high points, and sees you climbing the netting oh stars-

Moon's fast, but you're faster, and by the time he calls the cable and flies over, you've slipped through a hole in the netting. He can't leave the Daycare during operating hours, so all he can do is contact security and go back to watch over the other kids, circuits thrumming with worry.

Thirty minutes pass and nap time's almost over. Security hasn't found you yet. But just when he truly starts to panic, he turns and sees you there, plopped smack dab in the middle of the rainbow foam mats, surrounded by a pile of chips and drinks from various vending machines. He has no idea how you even carried it all. Your calm gaze doesn't move from his even as you chow down on your loot. Well played, little one, well played.

But while your cunning (and perhaps even amusing) mischief is to be admired, Moon, unlike his solar counterpart, has absolutely no issue with using the timeout corner. You spend the rest of naptime snoozing in the corner, cocooned happily in a blanket after being bribed with Moondrops.

Your (well-earned) loot is neatly tucked away into a spare bag, to be given back upon the assurance that you won't ever climb the netting again because stars above, little one, you almost stopped his metaphorical heart-

[pinkiepiebones]

if it’s ok can I request gardener renfield opening up a greenhouse :-)

Years after the death of Dracula, Robert Montague Renfield buys his first home. Well, technically it's his second home, but the first one was purchased well over a hundred years ago and for all he knows might have been knocked down and paved over to create a new by-pass.

Anyway.

Robert's settled in New Orleans, because it is where Dracula was dismembered and mixed with concrete and dumped into the sewer system and he'd like to keep an eye out for any vampiric shenanigans that may arise, but also because he's just tired of moving. He sells most of the objects d'art he's been lugging around the past century. He puts some in a storage unit though, out of a sour mix of nostalgia and dread- the stuffed raven, the stuffed albino fox, a few paintings, some bolts of fabric. The coffin.

"Dude, someone would pay millions for that coffin," his best friend Rebecca Quincy asserted the day Robert wheeled it out of the rented U-Haul and into storage. "There's some weird old rich guy out there who would totally want it. You don't have to keep it."

Robert swiped his arm across his brow. "Who'd buy this thing? Honestly? It's a lead box lined with the fur of some extinct animal. Give me a name."

Rebecca thought a moment. "Nicholas Cage?"

"Hasn't he already got a pyramid tomb?"

"Oh yeah... Well maybe he'd use Dracula's coffin as a coffee table or somethin'."

Robert shook his head. "Even if I had a way to contact Mister Cage, I doubt even someone of his, ah, eccentricity would want this." Robert shoved the coffin into the darkest corner of the storage unit. "No, it'll do just fine tucked back here."

Robert's new home is small-but bigger than his apartment with two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, and a full acre of yard space- and what the home renovation shows would call a "fixer upper" with "good bones." It makes him happy to work on it. He listens to music and the occasional psychology podcast as he polishes the original wood floors or paints the walls or rewires the light switches. It's therapeutic- he's gone from caring for a monster to caring for himself, and he has found that he enjoys making things bright.

The yard is a paradise for Robert. In the front yard he sticks a couple of those cheery plastic flamingoes he'd wanted for decades and puts in a white picket fence. He gives his home what the home renovation shows would call "great curb appeal." Perhaps superstitiously now, Robert makes sure to not buy a "welcome" mat, and he plants wolfsbane just inside the fence's perimeter. In his head he plays a very old memory of Doctor Van Helsing waving the wolfsbane in his face. It turned out that the man had been right- Dracula fucking hated this stuff.

His backyard is the bigger of the two yards and he decides quite early on he wants a greenhouse. Rebecca helps him build it (mostly because he promises to take her out somewhere nice for dinner, but also because she's his friend and she loves how happy he is). It's small, maybe a bit bigger than two tool sheds, but the inside walls have sturdy, wide shelves where he can start seeds, there's a toolbox with drawers for labels and waterproof markers and seed packets. Bags of soil and watering cans are carefully tucked under the shelves and garden spades varying in length hang from a little cork board propped up against a wall. Robert even refurbished an old battery powered radio and has it set to a station playing classical music, since that seems to be what plants like the most. There's fresh white gravel making up the floor and a thermometer hangs from a string of fairy lights tacked to the wooden frame of the glass door. Plans for a garden are scribbled on a pad of paper beside the toolbox.

Robert and Rebecca are on his little patio one evening, sitting in refurbished mid-century lawn chairs and drinking fizzy alcoholic drinks. Rebecca gestures to the greenhouse. "That turned out pretty good, didn't it?"

Robert nods.

"You ever think about scaling it up?"

"What do you mean?"

Rebecca sets her drink down to gesticulate as she talks. "I mean, you still own the hospital, right? If you pay someone to demolish the building, that'd be a great place to build a greenhouse that people could come buy stuff from." She picks up her drink and sips. "You could even have classes, y'know, on proper plant care. People would love that shit."

Robert smiles. "I guess I never really thought about it. Might feel good to share what I do," he pauses to take a drink, "especially now that what I do isn't, you know, terrible."

Rebecca chuckles.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

a bit of the engagement series?? 👀

Hello! The story this is from is one I’m particularly excited for— ✨the wedding(s)✨

I was originally not going to write this story at all, but as usual, a getting to rant about it to @liggytheauthoress for a bit made me feel INSANE about it, and now I know exactly where to take it. It won’t be posted in any real context for a while, but, have this new snippet in the meanwhile ❤️

He returned home later than he wanted or planned.

The sun had set over Hanraat Bay, leaving no more than a faint glow of indigo behind the house in the west. The windows looked soft and bright, emanating a golden yellow from behind the sheer summer drapes— Agatha must’ve changed over the draperies from spring to summer while he was out that day. She always got into such a tizzy over guests, even if it was just Colm.

Then again, with the wedding date getting closer by each half chime, everyone was getting into a tizzy. Wylan couldn’t help the fizzy warmth in his chest, radiating out through his veins like champagne whenever he saw his betrothed and remembered— it’s you! Soon, they’ll never be able to keep us apart! Soon, I will get to pledge my love to you forever.

So, yes, Colm had pulled into port that morning, like he had many times before. But this time he was coming to help with preparations, and to be there for the dinners and parties dotted through the next few weeks of the social calendar.

By the time he left Ketterdam again, he would be a father-in-law. Wylan and Jesper would be husbands.

Saints.

And Wylan wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that.

“— is always early to retire, and Colm will no doubt be tired from the journey. After they’ve both gone to bed, we can fill in the others on what we’ve discovered and plan next steps.” Kaz had been talking all along, and Wylan tried not to look too surprised as he blinked away from the carriage window to look at him.

It got him a distinctly unimpressed raise of an eyebrow.

Which was why the next words made his shock impossible to mask.

“Are you alright?”

The answer, of course, was no. So, Wylan nodded. “I hadn’t seen him since the trial, he looked…”

“He looked like he deserves to look.” Kaz said harshly. He had relished seeing the squalor of Hellgate in a way that Wylan just couldn’t bring himself to.

The way Jan’s face had gone sharp, and his frame looked so ailing hadn’t felt like a victory. It wasn’t that Wylan didn’t feel any satisfaction in knowing his father would never breathe free air again; or that his heart didn’t pound and his eyes go warm at all the ways he was flourishing beyond any Van Eck before him. Despite his father’s insistence that he was useless, Wylan was leading the business to new heights and conducting his life on his own terms, surrounded by love. It wasn’t that he didn’t know and appreciate these things.

It was the anxiety constantly biting at his heels, the knowledge that it was still so fragile. Jan was still trying to take it away.

“He also looked unsurprised by the information that we had to share.” Wylan picked at the cuff of his fine mercher suit.

“That only means we’re on the right track.”

When the carriage came to a stop, and Bertram opened the door for them, Kaz stepped out first. His gloved hand reached out and squeezed his— he let go like the touch burned him, but the contact was strong and reassuring— as they took the steps up to the manor door. “You’ll always be crows— we look after our own.”

Thanks for playing!

[fangirlstorycreator]

Can we have one with CK Terry where they had just gotten married and while theyre running errands YN sees a baby at the checkout. She plays and makes faces to make the baby giggle and smile and it makes Terry want to talk about starting a family? Then when they get home, Terry is like "you were so cute with the baby. How'd you feel about starting a family of our own? I've always wanted to be a Dad"

One day, you and Terry were at the local food shop just grabbing the essentials after finishing work at the dojo. You had got everything you needed before you went up to the till. You started bagging up the food as Terry was paying for it, when you suddenly feel something fall at your feet. You look down to see a small soft rabbit toy. You bend down to pick it up when you hear a little sad cry. A baby, around about 18 months old was in a buggy next to you on the other counter. "Excuse me? Is this your baby's toy?" You said standing up. The lady turned and said "oh yes thank you, shes always dropping that toy" you knelt down to the crying baby. "Hey sweetie, hear, it's your bunny" when she opens her eyes, she instantly starts giggling and reaching out to you. You hand her the bunny and she holds it close. "Thank you miss, i spend so much time finding that little bunny, I'm surprised i haven't lost it" "well at least she has it now" you say looking up at the mum. Just before you stand up, the baby reaches her hand out to you and you do the same. She holds onto your finger with her whole hand, giving you a big smile. "Look after your bunny now alright?" You say giving her a smile. She giggles and hugs her bunny again. Terry had seen all of this, and his heart felt so warm. Later on when you got home, you had unpacked all the things you bought, and Terry had gone for a shower as you sat on the sofa reading a book. When he came back into the living room, he had a lovely smile on his face. "You look happy babe, what's with the gorgeous smile?" You ask him, as he sits down next to you on the sofa. "I was just thinking about you from when we were at the shop earlier" "oh! From when I dropped the fizzy coke on the floor? I made sure to put it at the back so noone would buy it straight away" this makes him laugh. "No no sweetheart. I meant when we were at the check out and you were talking to the little baby" now you remember. "Ah yes, she was so cute wasnt she?" "She was, but I was mostly looking at you. The way you are around children, the way they smile around you. You looked so at home around the baby" "well babies are lovely little people. I think they are so cute and sweet" Terry takes your hand and intertwines his fingers into yours, giving you a very loving look. "Y/N...I know we have been married just over a year now, and every second has been amazing with you. And I wanted to ask you something important....do you want to try for a baby?" Your eyes go wide in amazement and shock! "Sweetheart I love you with all my heart. And I have always wanted to have a family. You are my family and my soul mate. And I have always wanted to be a father. To raise a child and be there for them like a proper father should be. And I would love nothing more than to have a baby with you. I know you would be an incredible mum, and a new addition to our family could make it complete. So?...what do you say?" You are over the moon at what Terry has said. You love him so much and do want to have a baby, HIS baby! "Yes Terry, I do want to have your baby!" He has a tear if happiness in his eye and smiles wide as he takes you into his arms, giving you a big hug. "I love you Y/N" "I love you Terry"

[l0vergirlwrites]

dancing in the street ; matthew murdock

warnings: nothing but FLUFF!!!!!

this comes from my wattpad (sadgirlautumn)

it all started when you were at josie's one night with matthew after winning a case.

the dark bar, only light by the pool table lights, neon signs & the fixture behind the shelves of alcohol on the back wall; josie's had a dark, but comforting atmosphere. people from almost all walks of life were there, drinking happily with buddies or alone in a corner, sulking while crunching on a bowl of almonds.

you had grown to love josie's when you started at nelson & murdock after spending a good couple nights playing pool & drinking with the whole crew; karen, foggy & matthew. josie's had made the group of you grow close over the last couple months & it had become a safe haven, despite the amount of criminals that would spend their time there on occasion.

but on this night after karen & foggy had gone home after the tiring day, you were about it leave too until matthew surprised you with an opposition.

your hand was pulling the door open, lips parted enough for you to bid your goodbyes to matthew for the weekend until he placed his hand on the door, pausing it from opening any more than it was.

"do you need something?" you asked him as you turned to face him, only to see a small grin on his face— meaning he had an idea.

"would you want to come to josie's for a bit? celebrate our win, partner in training?" he asked you which made your eyes roll at the nickname, since you literally are training to be able to be a partner at the firm.

with a playful smile on your lips, you tilted your head at him, "i'll go if you stop calling me that".

"not a chance, sweetheart" 

knowing you wouldn't turn down having a few drinks with him, matthew removed his hand from the door & followed you out of the office, locking the doors multiple locks before joining you by your side, ready to trek to josie's.

once you both were on the street, it was quite cold despite it being summer time & you couldn't help but shiver a little bit, matthew hearing your teeth chatter a tiny bit. wordlessly, matthew gave you his blazer to where, knowing it'd fit you slightly big— but at least it would keep you warm.

looking at him for approval, mumbling an "you sure?", he nodded his head & smiled once he sensed you had put it on. in that moment, you thanked god that matthew was blind because if he wasn't, he would've seen how big your smile was.

***

"i don't think i can have anymore" you groaned once you finishing downing your second beer of the night, behind matthew while he was working on his third.

"gotta build up your tolerance sweetheart" he said as he sipped from his glass, giving you a knowing look.

"i think i'm all partied out matt— you're a lot to handle" you said with a laugh, the warm fizzy feeling throughout your body making you look at him for a little too long.

& you may of bit your lip while glancing at him while he slightly loosened his tie.

"what can i say? foggy is the master & i am simply his student" matthew said like a fact, making both of you giggle at the sentence.

"it's almost closing time" you realized, standing up from the stool you sat on & pulling his blazer off your body, you stood in front of matthew's body & took his hand in yours, pleading with him to join you.

"alright, let's get out of here" 

saying thank you over & over until it became too much, your tipsy self thought it was a smart idea to lean towards matthew & kiss his cheek rewardingly, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth once you realized what you did.

sensing your nervousness now, matthew pulled you closer to him on the stool, his arm holding you to his side, "thank you" he smiled, feeling your heart rate slow at his little assurance. 

you just couldn't stop thinking about how nice it felt when his hand was on your back, the warmth radiating from it against the material of your thin silk shirt, the proximity between you & him— it was too much.

stepping out into the night once again, matthew advised you to hold his hand while he handed you a water bottle with the intention of sobering you both up.

"do you not do celebratory dances after winning a case?" you asked him after sipping on the cold water, passing the bottle back to him.

you turned towards him & felt your breath still at how he looked. the tone of the street lights, the darkest of the sky— for some ungodly reason it made him even more enticing to look at, you couldn't pull your gaze from him as you traced your eyes over his features subconsciously.

"not really... but i guess it could be our little tradition now" matthew smiled at you, feeling your hand pull his with excitement.

twirling you as you both made your way through hell's kitchen's streets, laughs were shared, stumbles almost turned into falls & soft singing of songs could be heard pass through both of your lips. the moment felt like a movie; too exciting & too memorable for you to forget within an hour.

after the last twirl before coming to a cross walk, matthew pulled you to press against him, laughing at the small "uhmp" that came from you when your body hit his.

"you really should take dance lessons" matthew jokingly commented, soon feeling you shake your head against his chest.

"only if you'll be my dance partner" you confidently said back to him. you could feel the slight shock in his chest at your words & you felt satisfied.

now he knows how he makes you feel with his sly comments.

"where & when?" he asked you when you pulled your head away from his chest. looking up at him longingly when he removed his glasses, you couldn't stop yourself from raising a hand up to trace along his jawline. his stubble pricked your finger slightly as you moved it across his skin, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"right here... right now" you responded softly, smiling when you felt his hands hold you closer to him.

you, dawned in a simple dress with black chunky heels & your workbag on your shoulder, matthews blazer keeping you warm as the nights breeze made you touch your chest to his.

matthew, his tie slightly loose & a few buttons on his work shirt free, glasses in his pocket with his cold metal of his watch  against your waist.

you both didn't know what else to say now. you didn't know what else to do.

but kiss.

you reached your head up when you saw matthew coming closer to your face. noses brushed against one another in small love tape, lips parted & breathing stilled. eyes fluttered shut to relish the moment, hands gripped tightly onto the others body & once the space between you & him closed— satisfaction flowed through both of your bones.

the kiss was slow & steady, too scared to go any further than something small & loving. you could feel matthew's stubble against your lip & it only made you grip him tighter, your hands sliding to the nape of his neck. matthew found you to be intoxicating, more than any liquor he's had before, so he moved a hand to rest against your neck, his thumb feeling your pulse as he slightly held on tighter.

"you don't know how long i've been waiting for that" you mumbled against his lips, taking a deep breath when you felt him move from your lips to your neck, peppering small kisses against your dark skin.

"i think i do know, sweetheart"

lifting his head up to rest his forehead to yours, you felt electricity run through your veins.

"want to stay at my place tonight?" matthew asked you, the hand on your neck moving to your face, caressing your warm cheek.

"more than anything" you told him, smiling when he leaned in to peck your lips one more time.

walking down the street once again, you pressed into matthew's side like a charm, you couldn't wait to see what tomorrow had in store for you & him. you just hoped this wasn't just a one-time thing.

i wish i was the beer bottle in matt's hand rn