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mc-i-r · 9 months

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Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

#steddie #stranger things #pre steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fillet #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #things get better for Steve i promise #hes just having his angsty time right now #robins part is next tho so stay tuned for that #disposable heroes

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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

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Daddy's here, buddy (Lewis Hamilton)

A look into the Hamilton household now that they are a family of three

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time on hold (I know it has been a while, like, a really long time), I'm finally posting this one. I won't blame you if you have left, especially since it took me so long, but if you're still around, I hope you like this, anon!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy, postpartum (difficulties walking, breastfeeding, soreness)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

As soon as Lewis was able, he flew straight back home, promising Toto and the rest of the team a detailed written debrief he worked on while he was on the plane.

When he landed, one of your friends was there to drive him straight home, "they are both doing well so the doctor discharged them this morning, they watched the race at home already with your mum", she smiled, noticing his antsyness, "we'll stop by my place so you can have a shower and change clothes, and then you'll get to meet him. I know I'm biased, and you'll be too, but he's the cutest little boy ever", she smiled, reassuring him that everything was well underway and that they were being careful with the baby's health.

"Carmen, can I have some water, please?", Lewis heard you call for his mother as he walked through the stairs that led the garage to the living area of the house, seeing the older woman pour the liquid into a mug and bringing it to you along with a straw.

"Hey, look who's here!", you smiled, handing the mug back to your mother in-law when you finished sipping from it.

Lewis walked closer to you, rubbing his mother's arm before he kissed the top of your head, taking a peek at the bundle in your arms. Baby Noah has been sleeping against your chest, pillowy lips agape without another care in the world, but he seemed to stir as he felt his father's presence in the room.

"Someone wants to meet daddy", you cooed as Lewis sat next to you on the sofa, arms expectantly held out as you transferred the baby to his arms.

Taking the baby wrapped up in the beige blanket and placing him on his chest, Lewis let one of his hands rest on his son's back to hold him close.

"Hey Noah", he whispered, looking up briefly to see his mother and wife smiling at them, "You were slightly early, weren't you? Daddy wasn't here when you came earthside, and I'm very sorry for it, but now we have all the time in the world", he whispered, softly touching his cheek and moving to stroke his head, feeling the soft baby hair.

Noah looked up at him as tears filled his eyes, "I couldn't wait to get home to you and mummy. I'm sure a lot of people want to meet you, I got told that much in the paddock", he smiled at the beautiful boy in his arms. "It's ok", Lewis whispered as the baby started getting fussy, opening his mouth and squinting his eyes closed as he cried loudly.

A quick look at the clock made you suddenly reach your arms out for your crying little boy, "he's hungry, it's just about time", you nudged, cradling him to you and kissing his forehead.

"I'm going to go, dears, leave you in your newborn bubble", Carmen smiled, "if you need anything, and I mean anything, call me, okay?", she checked, kissing your head and Lewis' before squeezing her grandson's little hand softly, "goodbye, baby boy, behave well for mummy and daddy, okay?".

After she saw herself out, you undid the top buttons of your shirt, unfastening the bra cover so you could feed your little boy, "That's it, good boy", you cooed, feeling your husband's eyes on you.

"We watched the race, congratulations on your podium", you smiled, your hand squeezing your husband's thigh once you balanced your baby on the feeding pillow.

"Thanks", he breathed out, "I still can't believe he's here, that he's ours", he shook his head, "we have our little boy here with us.

"Thank you for doing this for our family, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner", he expressed, kissing your lips softly as Noah whined, "daddy can't kiss mummy, now? Oh, this is going to be interesting!".

"Am I doing this right? I think I am", your heard your husband say to your son as you started to wake up, "looks secured enough. Hopefully we won't have any explosions and nothing comes out of here".

Your hissing while trying to pull yourself up announced you were awake as your husband turned his torso slightly to face you, "mummy is awake, little love", he beamed, finishing popping the buttons on your son's clothes so he was comfortable.

By the time you found a way to pull yourself up and against the headboard, Lewis was sitting next to you, ready to pass Noah into your arms so you could feed him, "are you still feeling sore?", he asked, kissing your cheek.

"It's not as bad as yesterday", you assured him while you moved your boob so Noah could latch, ignoring the sting as his lips met your sensitive skin, "my back feels fine, but moving my legs might be tricky still", you offered.

"The midwife said that would be expected, so we'll just keep an eye out for anything serious, yes?", your husband said as you took the opportunity to rest your body against his naked chest, his arm going around your shoulders and softly tracing shapes on your bare skin.

"Can you burp him while I use the bathroom?", you asked as Lewis as he got up, burping him while standing up as you slowly got up as well, waddling to the en suite bathroom.

"Are you going to sleep now, little one?", he cooed, rocking him to sleep once all of the air trapped in his tummy got out, "you have a clean nappy, full tummy, and daddy needs to go and make sure mummy is okay", he chuckled, "with time, you'll see it takes her a while until she asks for help even though she's usually been needing it for way longer".

"Lew?", you called from the bathroom, "yes, darling?", he called back as he knocked on the door softly, asking for your permission to look inside, "I need to have a shower, but I don't trust my legs to keep me up, and sitting on the floor is not a good idea so, like - do we even have a stool I can sit on? -, I need something to support myself on", you asked.

"Noah is asleep, I can leave him here, in the middle of our bed, keep the door open and help you with your shower if that's okay", Lewis offered, "if I look around, I might find something, but I'm not sure we own a stool that can be put in water".

Weighing your options, you waddled back to your boys, kissing Noah's forehead and looking up at Lewis, "you don't mind helping?", you wondered.

Lewis placed Noah on the bed, making sure he was in an angle where you could see him from the bathroom, "c'mon, shower time, darling", he soflty nudged.

He turned on the warm water as you undressed yourself, disposing the underwear safely in the bathroom bin and walking into the shower compartment, thankful that Lewis insisted you needed a wide and ample space for it as it now perfectly accommodated the two of you once he had no clothes on either.

"Is the temperature good?", he asked and you nodded. Your body didn't feel wrong to you, just new, and Lewis seemed to be on the same page, tracing your hips and tummy softly while you wet your hair.

By now, the routine was so engraved in your lives that Lewis knew which steps followed which, only stopping when you needed to support yourself on him, to steal a few kisses or take a peek of Noah.

"Now he's sleeping well", you muttered chuckling as you wrapped a towell around your body, accepting Lewis' hand as he took you to the bedroom, "I have your underwear ready with those witch hazel round pads to help with the soreness", he added.

Helping you put them on along with the rest of your clothes he gathered from the drawers, your husband left a trail of kisses anywhere his mouth was close enough to your skin as he dressed you, "how about a nap? Noah surely kept us up so we could do with some sleep", he smiled, pulling you to lie against his chest while you cradled your son against your own chest.

"I know, baby, I know", you gulped, grabbing the silicone covers for your nipples while bouncing Noah on your bent legs, "mummy is trying to make this better for both of us, hopefully this works", you tried, fitting the piece and pulling Noah to you, encouraging him to suck.

The specialist had told you that using the covers would help you in days where the skin was extra sensitive, but its continuous use could mean that Noah would have to work harder to get his milk in, leaving him to get more tired and eat less, ultimately making him drop his weight.

"Hey, darling, I'm back", Lewis called from the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets as he stored away the things he bought from the shop.

"In the living room", you croaked out, holding the tears that threatened to fall as Noah seemed to drift off to sleep, "ah-ah, baby boy, you have to eat more, otherwise you won't grow", you groaned, taking off the silicone piece and biting your lip as his lips made contact with your skin directly.

The tears you worked on keep at bay fell down your cheeks as Lewis walked inside the living room, "hey, darling, I - what's the matter?", he checked you over, sitting next to you as you looked up at the ceiling.

"It hurts, a lot", you cried, "the only way it doesn't hurt is if I have these on, but with them he won't eat, so I have to compromise that", you allowed him to wipe your cheeks, "what a great mother I am, talking about compromise when I am feeding my baby", you scoffed at your own words.

"Hey, it's okay to talk about it if it hurts, darling. I'm so, so sorry, I wish I could do something to take that pain away", he comforted, kissing your cheeks as he pushed your bodies closing together.

"I will rub the cream afterwards, and we can try the silver nipple covers, we haven't done that yet", he suggested, his hands tracing shapes on your skin and squeezing the area, hoping to distract you from the pain you were feeling.

"I'll put him to sleep, okay? You can go and freshen up, darling", Lewis said as he bounced Noah on his arms after burping him, giving you time to use the bathroom and get a little bit of fresh air.

After splashing your face with water, you lightly dabbed the towell on your face before walking to the kitchen, opening the door that lead to the back garden and standing in the sun for a few minutes.

It was easy to get lost. A lot of people, specially the ones who were brutally honest about the whole experience, told you that much. Not out of spite or because they wanted to scare you, but rather because they cared enough to tell you about all of it. It was easy to lose yourself because all your focus was on your baby. Truth was, if you lost yourself, your baby would end yo suffering, too, so the whole situation required balance. Right now, the sun rays hitting your skin seemed to tip the scales to an even line.

"He's asleep already", you heads Lewis say, baby monitor on hand hand and another one with a cup of tea for you, "here, beautiful", he offered.

"Everytime I look at his face, I can't believe we made him. Such a perfect baby, how is he ours? But, it's also a lot sometimes", you breathed out, letting go of the guilt that was consuming you and recognising that you could love your family unconditionally and still admit that things could get hard. One didn't override the other.

"It's okay to admit that", Lewis said, pulling you to rest your back against his chest, "but we'll go, day by day, see what it brings us. You're doing so well, Y/N, you've been so strong for our family", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "will you let me take care of you now?", he wondered, guiding you back inside for a little pamper session.

"Your tummy really is troubling you, isn't it, little one?", Lewis said as Noah didn't seem to settle down, cries and whimpers leaving the little baby's mouth as he rocked him back and forth, "should we try those massages daddy was taught in the baby classes?".

Laying Noah on the changing table, Lewis unswaddled him before holding his legs, "first we go into frog mode", he chuckled, pulling the little legs into position before wiggling his hips and tummy, "the nurse in the baby classes said to wiggle a little, and apparently you are very flexible at this point, so you're like putty almost. It's a bit scary, but you seem to be doing better, right buddy?", he said, noticing he was passing some gas already and his whimpers had died down.

As you came out of your shower, you watched the replied on your son's face as the noise coming from his diaper confirmed the reason from his previous pains, "Oh, that was a big one!", you giggled, approaching your boys as Lewis grabbed a new diaper, "I'm on it!", he said, kissing your cheek and taking care of changing Noah.

"Do you want to go on a walk this afternoon?", you wondered, "I feel a little better ans I want to start being a little more active. Nothing crazy, but rather a nice way to leave the house", you suggested, being met with your husband's sparkly eyes, "of course, darling. I'll get him a new outfit, we're going to be matching!", he smiled as he noticed the colour pattern you were going for.

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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elmhat · 3 months

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DISC WAR FINALE - TUMBLR SIMULATOR

(The posts here are ordered from least to most recent, since I figured it was a better experience to read them chronologically.)

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Mwahahaha… They'll never find my evil lair where I do evil things. Evilly. That I gave them a compass to

#sorry for vagueing #everything I do is mysterious

12 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

just said my final goodbyes before my inevitable death and my friend couldn't even be assed to put on a shirt??

#cw nudity

56 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

boats are so fucking boring man send me some asks or something

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm about to kill you, can you please take this seriously

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

why'd you make it so fucking far away

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Sorry I didn't realize you were THIS SLOW

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

can you just give us the coords

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Then it wouldn't be dramatic

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

it's not dramatic when you're having a whole ass conversation about it either

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

fuck i shouldn't have posted that. who am i gonna talk to now i'm fucking lonely i have no one

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

no one at all

21 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

EVERYONE SHOULD BE AT THE PORTAL!

If you don't see one of your mutuals here please tag them, it's gonna ruin the moment if someone shows up late

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

@evilwarcriminal

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

DELETE THIS

134 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

#rigging is allowed

16 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

he has an elevator, we're doomed.

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Can you get off your phone. I'm trying to monologue

4 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

New ask game cause I'm sick of waiting, tell me what you think dream is doing rn and I'll tell you how much death I think he deserves

9 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm kinda busy rn but can someone remind me later to post my villain monologue? It's only a first draft but I had to spend all my time setting up my lair. And also blowing up that country a few weeks ago

5 notes

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

I stg punz is being so sus. what's he even waiting for. he better be paying by the hour

11 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

listen I think I'm gonna die dream is about to take my phone the coords are

2 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

Fuck this I'm going through @dreamsno1traitor

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

WAIT I NEED TO GO FIRST STICK TO THE SCRIPT

13 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

HOOOLY SHIT BITCH BOY LOOK AT THIS BITCH BOY BITCH DROP YOUR ITEMS IN THE HOLE ✨BITCH✨

#cw nudity #again #can people please wear clothes around me thanks

2,577 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

/ tw prison

/ tw loss of canon lives

/ tw near death experience

/ tw getting defeated by your archnemesis

I won't be able to post for a while.

78 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

ooooohhh look at me i'm skeppy! in the skeppy cage!! can't believe that fucker made this wtf is this place

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

okay i'm done now bad where did you go @baddestboi-withahalo i need to get out again @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo

💎 goodestboi-withahalo Follow

Thank you for accepting this job opportunity

18 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Guys get out of my inbox. Your hate anons aren't even effective if I don't have a phone in prison

6 notes

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Hey I'm back from the dead

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

REALLY????

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Sorry forgot the /j

8 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

Good job today guys. Yeah. Woo. I'm very happy.

#forgive me if I sound too excited

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

#I need to be vague about this cause he follows me on here #but I think my best friend almost just traded my life for two pieces of plastic #it was a pretty stressful situation though #ig I can't complain too much #am I weird for thinking that's not normal for a friendship? #sorry #I'm probably being unreasonable #they were some really nice pieces of plastic #you can lmk what you think in dms if you want #just please don't send me asks about this situation #I really don't want him to see #neg #discourse

0 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

it's great that we got dream but we need to go after @.bloodforthebloodgod next

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

what's happening what

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

go away i thought i blocked you

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

FUCKKJL YOU TECHNOO

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

technoblade is cringe

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

you literally tagged me

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

yeah cause i needed my followers to know where to send the death threats

28 notes

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Pandora's Vault is now open to visitors!

Just be aware that the entry process is a lengthy one with several waivers to sign. Plus there are a couple of annoying manual searches along the way. The prisoner is also highly dangerous, he will get inside your head and control your thoughts, transforming you into a servant to his every whim, destroying your very soul from within. I'd recommend not visiting at all actually. You can if you want but I wouldn't. If I were you. That's just me though.

#just me and him

103 notes

(Here's another dsmp dash simulator post I made!)

#long post #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

277 notes · View notes

which-item-poll · 3 months

Text

Heya! I post daily polls featuring items from various websites and ask "which item would you rather own?" Pretty simple!

MY OFFICIAL TIKTOK (WIP)

I got inspiration from other gimmick blogs such as @apolladay @haveyoueatenthisfood @haveyouwatchedthiscartoon @haveyoureadthiscomic-poll @haveyoudrankthis @haveyouplayedthisirlgame-poll @haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll @haveyouheardthispodcast @haveyouheardthisband @haveyoureadthismanga-poll @myheroacademia-polls @spicypolls @thisthat-ortheother @doyoulikethisfont @doyoulikethissong-poll @haveyouplayedthisirlgame-poll @haveyouplayedthisgame @haveyoueatenthisfood @haveyoueatenthis @haveyouheardthisband @incognitopolls @pokesmashorpokepass @oc-smashorpass

(reblogs are appreciated!!)

Important information:

- I just post whatever I find on the internet. You might notice a lot of Sanrio/kawaii stuff and that’s just because I’m obsessed. Sorry lmao.

- There won't ever be a "neither" option, if the poll doesn't apply to you, vote randomly or just scroll!

- My queue is set to 5-10 posts a day & it's running from 5pm until 12am! (EST)

- If an item/design that I've posted is stolen or has been proven to be a scam, PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I'LL EITHER CREDIT THE ARTIST OR DELETE IT! (I will need proof though)

- Please do not come here to create drama...i literally just want to make polls🤠👍

- Anon hate or ""criticism"" won't be responded to. I've seen the hate that other poll blogs get for nitpicky reasons and I won't be responding to any. Touch grass.

- NO POLITICS

- All the items are the EXACT ones you'd be owning, so try to take their color/style/utility and other factors into your decision!

- I do not accept links if you're on anon!

- I delete asks a lot (like an hour-ish after answering) because I dont like to flood my blog with non-polls, but i still wanna answer as many questions as I can! So if you send an ask, just be aware that it might not be up for too long.

- The websites will be in the tags & I will always credit Etsy/Redbubble/indie sellers! If you want to promote your store DON'T HESITATE TO ASK, I WILL POST A POLL WITH YOUR DESIRED ITEMS!

(Alternatively if you're an Etsy/redbubble/Indie seller that I've posted and you don't want your items up on here do not hesitate to contact me & I will remove it ASAP!)

Disclaimer: The reason why I don't ask indie stores directly if I can post their items beforehand is simply because I don't have the time. Imo I don't think it's necessary either, no store has asked me to take a poll down so far.

Tagging for NSFW polls:

- "Tw nsfw", and "nsft" (these will always be on NSFW polls)

- "Sex toys" (this will be tagged when I post sex toy polls. For example: Dildos, fleshlights, buttplugs etc)

- "Tw slight nsfw" (for very light nsfw content such as: chokers and anything with tiny implications of nsfw)

- "Tw nsfw language" (basically anything non-visual that's nsfw. for example, if I answer an ask about something sex related. this tag does NOT mean swearing, only sexual language.)

- "Tw bdsm" and "tw bondage" (these tags will always be on bdsm content such as ropes, handcuffs, gags, etc.)

HOW TO SUBMIT ITEMS:

[OPEN]

Use the submission tool on my blog to submit stuff!

- Use the EXACT same format that I use

- Copy & paste the item titles directly from the website

- Make sure that the prices aren't in frame

- The pictures must be as high quality as possible, or I will skip them

- If you're submitting Etsy or Redbubble items, make sure the 2 items are from the same seller!!

- Put the website in the tags or in the description

- Submit on mobile only, desktop doesn't work

Need more help? Use this post as reference!

RECOMMEND ME WEBSITES:

Suggest me websites here!

Sites that have already been suggested

Main blog: @moonlightaugust

^Last divider done by @prettypixels-love ^

#pinned #info #polls #please reblog if you can!#poll blog #updated as of 4/27/2024

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wordstome · 6 months

Text

now that we don't talk

I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost And what it cost Now that we don't talk

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization

2.2k words

tw: none

I swear to God one day I'll write something that doesn't involve that big hooded freak. But today is not that day.

Shoutout to loganlermanstanaccount here on Tumblr, who I won't tag. The bullet point headcanons with written parts interspersed format is from their excellent college roommate Miguel O'Hara post, which became their fic Rigor Mortis. I highly recommend both!

Also, excuse the absolutely butchered military content. I'm sure none of this is how it works in real life, but alas, this is fanfiction, not a research paper. Reader serves a Laswell-like role, but I refrained from labeling her as CIA even though I do call her a station chief. For the purposes of this fic, she's the voice in the operatives' ear during ops. We're playing a bit fast and loose with the terminology here.

You’re a highly skilled intelligence agent and operative handler.

You’ve spent most of your life dedicated to your career: moving through the ranks, proving yourself, refusing to let anything stand in the way of your ambitions.

You’ve done some things you aren’t proud of, but always for the right reason. Or the reason that made the most cold, logical sense. Even when your heart tells you otherwise. Nobody in this line of work has clean hands, after all.

You’ve always done what needs to be done. For everyone’s best interest.

Today marks the first day of your collaboration with a PMC called KorTac. You’re hunting down a homegrown cult turned out-of-control terrorist cell.

You haven’t had much experience working with mercenaries, but in terms of hardened war criminals, KorTac’s people are quite well mannered.

Not that you had expected them to be rude and discourteous, but, well. You are an outsider. They haven’t necessarily embraced you, but their reception was nice enough.

You’ve got a meeting with their commander, but you can’t quite find the room you’re supposed to be meeting in. Not a great first impression to make, but luckily, someone takes pity on you.

He introduces himself. Korean. Callsign Horangi.

“You’ll get used to the layout of the base,” he says as you follow him through winding hallways.

“I hope so,” you reply. “I’ll be here for a while." You study the walls, the signs and numbers on the doors, trying your best to memorize everything.

"Do you know your commander well?" you ask. You're not the world's biggest fan of small talk, but you may as well know what you're walking into.

"König? Yeah, we've been close ever since he joined up." Horangi says, leading you into a long hallway. "He's a good guy. A little intense, but don't let that get to you. He's just getting the job done."

"We'll get along if he's competent." You can respect a man who forgoes pleasantries for making sure the shit gets shoveled.

"You don't have to worry about that." Horangi stops and holds the door open for you. "After you."

You study him for just a moment before entering the room. He's curt and to the point. Not bad-looking, either. Hopefully you'll get more chances to—

Your heart nearly stops.

KorTac's commander is facing away from the doorway, shuffling through some papers by the looks of it. But you would know him from any angle. The set of his shoulders, the way his stance is at ease but never truly relaxed, the way his hair curls at the nape of his neck.

You have to force yourself to step into the room. And when you do, he turns around.

You're vaguely aware of Horangi stepping around you to get into the room, but that's happening somewhere far away from the headspace you occupy right now. By the way König's eyes widen as they meet yours, he's in the same place too.

He hasn't aged so much as he's gotten more tired. He never did sleep enough, but now he looks like he hasn't gotten a sound night's rest in a long time. He's put-together, but there's a haggardness to him that probably wouldn't be noticeable to anybody but you. Someone who knew him when he was younger, and in the prime of his life. Someone who used to know every scar on his body, every crease of his brow, and now hasn't seen him in more than a decade.

The man who broke your heart stands on the other end of the room, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost.

The two of you stand there for a while before Horangi's voice shakes you back to reality. "Brought the station chief, sir."

"I...see." König—you suppose that's what he calls himself nowadays, the arrogant prick—clears his throat. "Thank you, Hong-jin."

"No problem." Horangi takes a seat. "The others will be in soon."

Horangi seems like a perceptive enough guy. Can he tell that the room feels several degrees colder? You pull a chair out, the furthest one from König's position possible, and ignore the hurt that briefly flashes across his face as you sit down.

The meeting goes well. It's just an opportunity for you to formally introduce yourself to the KorTac operators you'll primarily be working with for the next few months.

You can tell they're a close knit group by the easy way they interact with each other: they've worked together for a while.

König, too, is part of them, which must be how they pick up on the chilly dynamic between the two of you. Some of them are just puzzled. For most of them, it raises their hackles.

It doesn't matter to you. You can barely focus on getting through the meeting without feeling like you're going to faint.

It's absurd. You're not some delicate Regency-era lady. You're a hardened military officer. But it makes no difference.

It doesn't matter how long it's been, it seems. He's still the only one who can make you feel like this.

You can't get out of there fast enough after the meeting has concluded. Not only are the others shooting you suspicious looks, but you've spent too long in his presence. Any longer, and you don't know how you're going to keep your composure.

But you can't escape him. Of course not. Why did you ever think otherwise? You hear him call for you, and you walk faster. But it's futile.

This hallway is smaller, narrower, less open. Nobody's around to watch when he slams you against the wall to stop your hasty retreat. Nobody's around to see the way you sway in his hold, overwhelmed by the smell of him all around you. You're bathed in it, the overpowering presence of him.

"We need to talk." he demands.

"We just did. Meeting's over," you shoot back, making a paltry attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. He loosens his hold on you, but you're still trapped between him and the wall. No exit.

"I didn't plan this, in case you're wondering."

"That much was obvious." He's let his hair grow out longer, you notice at the most inopportune time possible. It suits him, you think.

He sighs in frustration. "If we're going to work together, we have to be civil."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't expose how much of a scoundrel you are in front of your precious squad," you bite.

You feel a twinge of smug satisfaction as regret settles into his expression. Too little, too late.

"I don't want it to be like this, either," he murmurs. "Ignoring and avoiding each other."

"You don't get to tell me how to act."

"You're right. But it's been a long time. Can't we try to get along? Not for my sake, but...yours."

"Well that's not condescending at all."

"That's not what I meant. I know my team. If you're walking around resenting me openly like that, they won't trust you. And they need to, if you're working with us."

He's right, and you know it. But there's that deep instinct inside you, older than your bloodline, waking up after a long slumber. It wants him, snapping at the bit to give into him and do whatever he asks of you. The urge will consume you if you don't fight it every step of the way.

You glare up at him, hoping you come off as brimming with resentment instead of desire. "As long as you and your team stay professional, I can too."

He's not satisfied with that answer, but it's all you're going to give him.

"Fine." He steps away from you, and you pour all your willpower into commanding your body to stay still. To not chase after his closeness. You sway on the spot, dizzy with his scent after having gone so long without it.

"This hallway is a dead end, by the way."

You try, you really do. But it's hard to be around him without feeling the urge to touch him, to press yourself against him and inhale him like the most destructive drug possible.

Your only recourse is to stay as physically far away from him as possible.

You do your best to ingratiate yourself with the other operators. You and Calisto are fast friends: she's got a breezy confidence to her that's quite refreshing. It also doesn't hurt that you speak French, as well. There's a bit of kinship felt whenever the two of you are holding a conversation none of the others can understand.

Horangi's a different story, though. The initial courtesy he showed you is a bit more clipped, now that it's clear something is up between you and König.

You can't believe you missed it the first time, the way König's smell is all over him. It really has been too long.

The two of them must be pretty close. You give up trying not to fixate on the idea.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop on them, but you were curious. Even more curious when you hear your name mentioned.

"It's pretty clear you and Eden know each other. None of us are stupid."

You freeze in your tracks. The door is closed, but you can hear Horangi's voice, loud and clear in the room behind it.

"It's not relevant. She's just here to do a job."

"I think it's pretty relevant that she gets up and leaves whenever you enter a room, regardless of what she's doing. She can't get away from you fast enough."

You give a surreptitious look at your surroundings, then lean down slightly, pressing your ear to the door.

"You're not going to give this up, are you?"

"Hell fucking no."

You hear König sigh. "Fine. We knew each other before I joined KorTac. Back when I was in the Jagdkommando."

Do you want to hear this? Your painful history, relayed to a near stranger? Horangi's not a stranger to him, that's for sure.

"And?"

"We were...involved."

"You and a beta? Never took you for the type."

"Well, neither did I. But she was...special. Smart, pretty, deadeye with a knife. Wouldn't give me the time of day, of course. I was obsessed with her."

"Naturally."

"Give me a fucking break, okay?"

"Can't wait to hear how this ended."

"Not...great. I was a total dick."

You can say that again, you think.

"I was young. Real dumbass who thought he was hot shit."

"You still aren't."

"Shut the fuck up." Something twinges inside you at the hearty laughter the two of them share. You missed that laugh.

"Despite everything, it was the most stable relationship I've ever been in. We looked out for each other. She knew me better than some of my family does."

"How did you fuck that up, then?"

"I got too comfortable. Started thinking I could do better. God, what a fucking idiot I was. I loved her like crazy, but I didn't realize how good I had it until it was gone."

"She left you?"

"No. I was the one who ended things. In the worst way possible, too. I told her the relationship wasn't going to go anywhere, that we were never going to be a serious thing."

"Ouch. Why not?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. You remember that night, like a shard of glass buried in your chest. As hard as you tried to forget, you'll never forget the way you felt. Like the world was ending.

You'll never forget the decision you had to make.

"I told her I couldn't see myself with a beta long-term."

"...that's fucked up."

"I know. I know. I was too caught up in that shitty macho alpha mindset. I was fucking ravenous back then, and I thought only an omega could give me what I needed."

"I get it now. If I were her, I would have quit on the spot seeing you in that meeting room."

"Yeah. She's a better person than I can ever imagine being."

Well. It's nice to know he regrets it, you think. Not that it does you much good now. Quiet as a mouse, you make a quick exit before you can get caught.

You make it back to the the room you've been assigned to. They were nice enough to give you your own private quarters, something you deeply appreciate when you need to be alone with your own thoughts. Like right now.

It's a strange feeling, to sort of get closure like this. Not at the end, but at the beginning of something new. You still have to see each other. Does it help that you know how he feels? Maybe, but it doesn't ease your own guilt. In fact, it makes it worse.

You're not mad at him for telling Horangi. You're glad he did, actually. There are some secrets that cause more harm to keep than not.

You open a drawer and pull out the pill bottle, hidden underneath your other possessions, and stare at the label.

WARNING - SUPPRESSANTS. NOT TO BE USED BY ALPHAS. ONLY CONSUME UNDER PHYSICIAN SUPERVISION.

You would know.

BOOM! There you have it. (In case it wasn't clear, the suppressants are for omegas.)

@sprout-fics's omegaverse 141 headcanons series inspired me to write something based off the idea of an omega disguising themselves as a beta in the military. Please check out her series, it's great.

I was really into exploring how omegaverse dynamics can make complicated relationships even messier. I did consider writing this story without the omegaverse, but I think now it's kind of an essential element. (I also just. Want them to have crazy nasty omegaverse sex. Sue me) I can't picture König ever breaking up with someone he deeply loved and was obsessed with, unless he had a reason like that. Still not a great reason, but a little bit understandable. Eden being a disguised omega also adds a bit of spice to the exes-to-lovers arc, too: she could have just come out and told him she's not actually a beta, but she chose not to for the sake of her career. Oof. Ruthless judgement calls were made on both sides.

I put this out because this idea had me in a STRANGLEHOLD, and I just had to get it out before I burst. Hopefully my writing's still up to par 😅 As for Kingdom Come, part iii may take a little while longer because a lot is going to happen in it, so I hope this can tide you guys over until then.

As usual, comments and feedback are always appreciated! I would love to talk about this au more. And again, if you'd like to be tagged, drop a reply. And if you're in the taglist and would like to be removed/only tagged for Kingdom Come, please let me know!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria

#könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #fic: now that we don't talk

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anantaru · 4 months

Note

You think rape is funny? Maybe once you fucking experience it you won’t. Fucking cunt.

hello. so I'll just jump right into this. tw. discourse tw. mentioning r*pe.

@saetoru made this claim about me:

saetoru, could you add proof at least? i can not remember a time where i would repost a joke like that so i'd love for you to show me proof please, this is all I'm asking.

also how was it on your dash, on your own dash and @dottores dash, when you have never followed me? + but maybe it was the for you feature that was the same for the both of you.

accusing someone without proof is not okay, again, i can not remember doing this so if you have a screenshot add it so i can remember and apologize, but i can't do anything because i don't remember saying a joke with SA in mind.

before that i just want to mention: i don't think r*pe is funny, i'm not a dark content blog either so i do not really reblog dark content things because i'm sure most of my readers don't want that + I'm just not into that as well. the only joke i was "called out" for once is when i used a "i want xyz character to smack their laptop on my face or tits" which i got from an andrew garfield interview where he read his thirst tweets out loud, at that time i just deleted it because it's alright.

dottores, your mutuals, two of them to be exact, have sent me multiple of your personal blog hate posts about me and not once, have you made one where you talked about me saying an SA joke. you have only claimed that i am a cunt and that i am a gatekeeping bitch hence why i believed this must be the reason why you would suddenly hate me despite the fact we never interacted.

now, I want to address this next, this is from @dottores post which when i got it sent to me, i would've wished she just tagged me right away and said it with her chest, more so not let saetoru talk about her experience but just handle this with me.

^ this is cat @dottores saying i got it wrong.

^ this is why i believed she meant it just like i said it, why do you go through blogs that grow really fast's notes in the first place? where do you take the right to police other blogs like that when i'm sure your blogs aren't empty of blank blogs either. it is hard to get rid of all of them but i'm sure we all try at least, we don't need you to make us feel bad or come off as belittling, if you have found out a way to get rid of every blank blog, do enlighten us please.

+ at that time of this reblog icks?? post that saetoru added, my blog was blowing up so when a moot of mine (which was also theirs at a time) saw this, they had sent it to me.

"creators that grow really fast" and nowhere has she mentioned she only went through only her own moots notes, aside from that apologies but i still find this weird, i don't think you should invest so much time in other people's blog but this is my opinion.

this is the next thing she said:

i don't know if dottores meant me there but i have never once harassed you nor sent you hate anywhere, again you cannot just accuse me of stuff like that when you have also never reached out to me. The things i claimed about you guys in your callout, i have text messages of the person (your moot) who sent it to me.

but back again, the only thing i did do was block dottores on tumblr and then later ao3 when i saw you in tags, which you made fun of me for later:

also i got this ask that time:

"who blocks on ao3?" i do, ao3 is the platform i use the most so why is it funny when i use the block button? + i just like to point something out here, "they must've clicked to read and realize it was me" you can think that if you want i don't mind, but let me ask you this: i have seen you in tags hence why i was able to block you, but how did you notice i did? you can't see me in tags so surely you didnt click on my work, so you must've searched up my user for whatever reason?

and i know this is about me because she added the "this person called me chronically online" i couldn't find the post but what she was talking about is me calling other writers who reblogged that one "ick post" with not needed things such as "when writers cant characterize a character" or "when they only write headcanons", i have plenty of screenshots of that post but since i don't want to use up all my space here, i don't see why i should show their reblogs from this.

there were plenty of people like that, which reblogged horrible things there so i called everyone under that post chronically online, not just you dottores.

yeah :) like people making fun of someone for blocking them for their own comfort. i just don't want to see you, that's all, but i have never send you hate asks nor harassed you, the only thing i did was block the blogs your own mutuals exposed to me.

^ this is after i felt bad for you after the callout.

this is coming from your own mutuals, i have never alone claimed you guys are jealous of me nor is there anything to be jealous about. i am just a blog, this here is not being popular, no one knows who i am and i do not need to pride myself in having a big blog on tumblr.com, and my readers know that. we are all the same here.

i didn't mean you here saetoru but i understand that it sounded that way, the phrasing was a little off, for that i apologise that i made you upset with this, english is not my first language, i'm french, and when it comes to this callout post i was so fed up with it that i just posted it without looking for grammar mistakes etc. + this is about one of your friends who deleted their personal the second i announced i got their user, that was something with kaeya, when they sent me a hate ask. i won't expose it here but that person was also the one who blacklisted a friend of mine for liking itto.

i think there is a lot more but i will stop it there, this could've ended differently and i'm sad that it ended this way. I wish you all the best and i mean it, i hope we all can learn from this and move on, write on tumblr for our favorite characters because it's fun and stay away from drama. If you made it this far thank you 💓 — yoru

#tw discourse #tw rape

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lynnlovesthestars · 7 months

Text

Masterlist- Baldur's Gate 3.

Hello my stars, since my brain went from somewhat sane to "How can I live without Astarion" I decided to put everything I've been posting in a masterpost.

Also I'm opening my requests, right now I'll be writing only about Baldur's Gate, but later I might venture in other fandoms. At the bottom of this masterpost, I'll leave the requests rules.

This being said, whether you are here to look for a treat, or to request your fantasies, what can I do for you?

My prompt list. (currently under maintenance)

Kofi, patreon for those who'd like to tip!

dd:dne infos for those who might be interested in finding out how it works.

Requests questions!

Taglist form. for those who wants to get tagged.

Work in progress page.

Other places where you can find me:

@ask-karlachbear (karlach rp blog) currently inactive, for roleplaying please dm.

@wisterialynn (my oc rp account)

Astarion Acunin:

Scars: Astarion x Reader. Angst. Set in act 3. "When your fears catch up to you"

Blood: Astarion x Reader. Part 2 of scars. Angst, fluff. Set in act 3. "How long does it take to heal those scars?"

One and Only. Astarion x Reader. Smut, fluff, lil of angst. Post act 3. "No one will ever love me like you do"

The sun, the moon and the stars. Astarion x Reader. part 2 of One and Only. Angst, fluff, smut (kinda). Post act 3. "When he thought he couldn't ask for more, you gave him back his freedom."

I wandered lonely as a cloud. Astarion x reader. Hurt, comfort, fluff, eventual smut. Set in act 2. "Let's pretend just for a few hours that we are okay, that we fell in love."

Why? Astarion x reader. Angst, hurt/ comfort, something similar to fluff. "Why? Why? Why?"

-Tick, tack, ah.- Astarion x OC (Lynn). Hurt no comfort.

Amygdala- Astarion x OC (Lynn). fluff, angst, a bit of confort?. "pain comes in many ways"

Serendipity - Astarion x OC (Lynn) fluff?. "astarion was supposed to have a meal and ended up catching feelings- or something like that."

Golden- Astarion x Tiefling!reader. angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance. "the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him." (somewhat pt 2 of "Why")

Avoid- Astarion x Wyll. Angsty. Prompt 11.

Wisteria- Astarion x OC (Lynn). Fluff, smut, angst. Set post game. "In an universe where they don't end up together while tadpoled, Lynn comes to the conclusion that he loves Astarion."

Sleep tight- Astarion x OC (Lynn) fluff.

Lesson One- Astarion x GN!reader. Fluff.

Karlach Cliffgate:

Bedsheets. Karlach x reader. Requested. Fluff. Post act 3. Ticklish adventure.

Wyll Ravengard:

Sleepless. Wyll x Reader. Smut, fluff if you squint. "Everyone is asleep, and all he can think about is not next to him."

Headcanon: anal. Smut.

Something. Wyll x reader x Gale, poly, fluff. They are something.

Avoid Astarion x Wyll. Angsty (check under Astarion)

Seasalt. Wyll x reader, smut

Gale Dekarios:

Arabella - Songfic, fluff. Prompt: 169 “Oh, fuck. Do that again.”

Something. Wyll x reader x Gale. Fluff. (look up!)<3

Tea- Gale x reader. Drabble. A tea to fall in love.

Shadowheart:

TBA

Lae'zel:

TBA

Halsin:

TBA

Jaheira:

Dinner is served. smut.

Minsc:

TBA

other characters:

"Let me show you how this will benefit you"- Gortash x OC (see more on post), smut- check TWs.

Request rules:

My requests are currently open, of course there's some rules I'd like to enforce so all of the readers, as well as me, are comfortable.

-no nsfw from anons or ageless accs

-no abuse from the romantic interest with the intent of having them fall in love (I see you Stockholm syndrome lovers, but this is not the place), while the mcs trying to murder each other before kissing it's our fav trope here, abuse it's not.

-no dubcon or noncon

-no b3stiality, no inc3st, or minors characters, even if aged up.

-and yk the usual do not interact warnings.

-can definitely use prompts, one liners, tropes, whatever comes to your mind for the request, and I'll try my best to fulfill them.

Navigation tags:

#lynn: updates ☆ (updates on what im working on, or published content)

#ask: lynn ☆ (answers to the asks I get)

#lynn: i wandered lonely as a cloud (ff related tag)

#vault: lynn ☆ (what I posted)

#asklynn☆: request (requests fulfilled)

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razorspidey · 17 days

Text

intro ⋆ READ B4 INTERACTING ⌁

my name is ajax/reo (you can call me either of those names) my pronouns are he/xe i am a minor (i'm 4teen) and i used to be @spinnspidey and @radiospidey and @knifespidey (that was the more known one) but i got t worded (again...). to whoever got me t worded, block dnt report. thanks!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა yeah so heres my intro. i'm a little bit of a weirdo if i do say so myself and i'm heavily tumblr obsessed so yeah i'll be on here nd i'll probably post a lot ^^ i'll post whatever goes through my mind which might be bad so warning on that. i might show symptoms of mental illnesses and if i do then mb idk not really my problem… but heads up i WILL say shit that shows that im not doing great. please do not try to save me or smth. also im looking for friends so bmf i promise im nice. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT PROMOTE ANYTHING THAT I POST. I AM POSTING AS A WAY TO VENT.

more info + stats under the cut!!! (tw for talking about sh + ed. don't like, don't read.)

sh﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have been cvtting since 2022 ⋆ i have hit styro ⋆ only styro on my thighs ⋆ i am not allowed to cvt anymore (unfortunately) ⋆ i have cvt my thighs, arms, stomach, and neck ⋆ most scars on thighs + arms ⋆ mostly cat scratches ⋆ all scars have healed (or are almost done in the process of healing) ⋆ my parents found out so i can't do it for now... (⇀‸↼‶)

ed﹐tw . . . ⋆ i have always hated my body ⋆ started trying to lose weight january 2023 ⋆ started around december 2023 (probably before, like over the summer but idk...) ⋆ 160 cm (last time i measured myself at least..) ⋆ sw 57.6 kg (bmi 22.5) ⋆ cw 51.2 kg (bmi 20) [will update every morning] ⋆ gw 1 50 kg (bmi 19.5) ⋆ gw 2 45 kg (bmi 17.6) ⋆ gw 3 40 kg (bmi 15.6) ⋆ ugw 38 kg (bmi 14.8) [or lower tbh...]

dni . . . ⋆ basic dni (idrc ngl, do what you want but don't report me thanks) ⋆ judgmental people ⋆ overly sensitive people ⋆ people who aren't ok w dark topics/get uncomfortable by stuff like that (this is more for you than for me, i dont wanna make anyone upset) ⋆ people who get triggered by talking about sh, ⭐️ving, alcohol, etc… (yes i am aware that it's bad, no don't come to my dms with a savior complex telling me to get help. i'm trying to get help) ⋆ i block freely btw cuz ik a lot of ppl dont respect dni lists + theres people who are unavoidable at times…

byi . . . ⋆ if you interact with me, i might seem excited n stuff ⋆ i might sound like i'm flirting but i'm not (i have a partner and i love them) ⋆ i can make a lot of sex jokes ⋆ i am very immature ⋆ dnt try to "fix" me, i'll probably block you or ignore you ⋆ i'm a little unusual so yeah ⋆ dnt be scared to interact w me i luv talking to peopleヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ ⋆ i am not pro €d or $h i just post about it and my experience…

fandoms . . . ⋆ hypmic (hypnosis mic) ⋆ genshin impact ⋆ paralive (paradox live) ⋆ servamp ⋆ tougen anki ⋆ karneval ⋆ bsd (bungou stray dogs) ⋆ seraph of the end ⋆ litc (lost in the cloud) ⋆ kagerou daze ⋆ the case study of vanitas ⋆ pandora hearts ⋆ enstars (ensemble stars) (i am KIND OF a part of it because my ex filled me up on a lot of lore when we were together…) ⋆ pjsk (project sekai) ⋆ theres probably some others but i forgot…

interests . . . ⋆ vkei ⋆ scene ⋆ anything bloody ⋆ cannibalism (ooh edgy) ⋆ tortures ⋆ psychology ⋆ music (i listen to vkei, scene, metal, etc…) ⋆ vampires ⋆ fanfiction (mostly genshin but other stuff occassionally) ⋆ true crime (im not tcc) ⋆ rarepairs (mostly genshin) ⋆ bats ⋆ writing ⋆ books ⋆ etc… ⋆ btw if youre interested in any of these or are interested becoming friends PLEASEEE message me 🙏🙏😓 im looking for friends pleaseplwaseplease

tags . . . ⋆ i tag all my posts with #razorspidey ⋆ i tag my normal posts with #razorspideys normal posts, meaning they are unrelated to $h and/or €d related things ⋆ i dont have a specific tag for $h/€d/vent related things so beware. i usually put a warning on all my posts like that at the end of the post tho ⋆ i tag my moodboard with #razorspideys moodboards ⋆ i tag stuff about me/my life as #razorspideys diary ⋆ i tag my rants/more serious posts with #razorspidey rants ⋆ block any of those tags or my blog if you do not wish to see it!!!

other links . . . ⋆ fanfic/dead dove: do not eat blog ⋆ poem blog ⋆ carrd

remember!!! block DONT report this blog if you need to ^^ this blog is meant as a way to vent my feelings/talk about my feelings so please don't dm me about how its bad. i am aware.

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neriumxoleander · 2 months

Note

If you could explain, I'm only learning this now! What's going on with Gato? I've only seen vague posts but I know all social media is gone (because by god fucking twitter apparently) I've seen from the fake gatobob account post about recent events and I'm soo confused. Could you please shed some more light on this? If you are as clueless as I am, you don't need to respond. - @your-very-own-anon (mod speaking)

Sorry for the late response, I've been trying to retag some things while I'm focused on this account for once. I'll try to be brief? please don't take me as the authority on this, I just happened to get into the tags while it was unfolding earlier today. still going under a read more though. i suppose a tw for mentions of racism and xenophobia are warranted. And please do not interact if you are a minor or have no age listed on your blog, I will block you.

Gato deleted her social media accounts this morning (tumblr, twitter, pillowfort) and explained on patreon it was for her mental health and safety (which... safety? hm) and someone here immediately claimed the gatobob url. which happens, it's tumblr. but this person is using it basically as a callout center.

the callout seems to be about an incident that happened in the patreon exclusive discord server before it got shut down a couple months ago. tldr according to this person, someone (a mod?) made a racist comment towards someone, and gato apparently handled the situation poorly and neither her or the mods apology were really that great. I was in the server as a lurker more than anything, but I don't remember being there when this happened.

other people sending in asks to this new gatobob account have also been calling her out for xenophobia, but I have a feeling that's looking a little bit too much into statements she's made about her games being redistributed in Russia and Spain specifically if i recall correctly.

this new blog is demanding gato and the aforementioned mod properly apologize for their behaviour, but in my opinion, this is a really weird and bad way to go about it. Smart to use her url as a way to boost the problem, but... I haven't seen any solid evidence besides some very vague screenshots, none of them including the racist remarks (the screenshots they've posted so far definitely aren't good responses or apologies if they ARE linked to this incident, and it should have been taken seriously) And the victim from the racism incident is NOT the person running the new gatobob account, so it feels very weird to me that this person is taking it upon themselves to stir everyone up and demand things from gato and the mod.

as far as I can tell, gato hasn't said anything about this on patreon, although she's likely taking her separation from social media very seriously. If she is aware (and I'm sure she's getting plenty of DMs about this on patreon), she'll likely make a post there addressing it in the next couple days, but that's just speculation.

I'm keeping a mostly neutral stance in this whole thing, but I'm encouraging people to not interact with this new gatobob account. There's nothing we can really do; they aren't impersonating her, posting anything against ToS as far as Im aware, and people have been hoarding urls for years. Just... listen and learn, I think is all I can suggest. Form your own opinions, but don't go on a witch hunt about it, if that makes any sense.

I'll try to answer other questions, but I'm just one guy on the internet who doesn't usually get tangled with things like this. Please be patient.

#Talking to the River #TPoF #BtD #Gatobob #Boyfriend to Death #The Price of Flesh #I guess ill toss this into the tags again for the sake of spreading information. but once again I'm not saying i know everything #if i remembered something wrong or worded things in a bad light I'm sorry but I'm not great at public speaking at the best of times

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 1

Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.

Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.

A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!

Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens

Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.

TW: None

Word count: 4.8K

"So what do you do?"

y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.

"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."

"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."

Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.

"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.

"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"

y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.

Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.

The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.

The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.

The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.

In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."

The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."

As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."

Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.

"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).

"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"

"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."

"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."

Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.

The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.

She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.

"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."

y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).

"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"

y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?

"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"

"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.

This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'

This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.

Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.

Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.

y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."

They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.

The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.

"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.

Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.

It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.

It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."

And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.

[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?

[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.

To be continued...

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

If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).

GIF credit to @gavidaily

Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #fc barca #footballer #imagine #barca #gavi x you #footballer imagine

732 notes · View notes

fillinforlater · 11 months

Text

On her paws

Male Reader x Kim Hyunjin

Length: 1618 words

Tags: pet play, kitten kink, feet kink, feet fucking, hate sex, degradation, cumming on feet, cumming on body, hate sex, always baked, punishments, cursing, chastity belt, choker are the best, daddy kink, Master, desperate_kitten!Hyunjin / Master!you

TW: lot's of feet and the usual degradation lol

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing

(A/N: just a short piece both Sooya and I wrote as a one off/connective piece in the "On her" Series. Enjoy!)

"Aeong!"

"Hyunjin! What did I tell you about posting feet pics online? I don't want others to see what belongs to me, you naughty kitten!" you growl and come storming into the house.

"Aeong?" Hyunjin meows again, this time as if to ask what you mean, and perks her head above the back of the couch she kneels on. It's one of many pieces of furniture she likes to jump and crawl on.

"Get over here now!"

You are not in the mood for games.

"You naughty girl, you filthy kitten. How dare you disobey your Master's rules, your Daddy's rules! I thought I trained you better than that…"

Hyunjin gets off of the couch and gracefully crawls to you, her huge, glowing eyes locked onto yours. You know her tricks, the ways she hopes to soften your heart, but not today. Hyunjin has crossed a line.

"Don't give me that look, kitten. Don't even think about rubbing yourself on me. You're so filthy."

Pinch her cheek when she gets too close and make her feel your anger. It's a bit petty, the way you pinch harder and pull at her face, yet Hyunjin gets the message. She tears up and her purr is but a whimper. You lean over and whisper to her.

"You're an ungrateful brat. You know how much time and energy I exhausted into saving you and your group members from the BBC shitshow?"

Without warning, you push her back so she harshly lands on her back. Then you grab her ankles and bring her feet to your nostrils and inhale like an addict.

"And now I'll take my payment. You'll be a good little kitten-whore for your Master, won't you? I will have my way with your feet and fuck them until I explode, is that clear?"

A tiny bead of salty water runs down Hyunjin's cheek as she nods. Her hands are up in the air like paws, and she squeaks when you lube her soles up with your spit.

Hyunjin is an expert in keeping herself clean and because kittens do not wear clothes, just a cute little choker, she is always ready to get used.

With one hand you massage the foot that is currently not in your mouth, with the other you rub along her slit. Hyunjin is so fucking sensitive on this part, you as her Daddy know and have to use it to punish her.

"Kitten… so sensitive, so fragile. Some things never change..." You take another whiff of her foot.

"Still smells delicious." You suck on her other gently, savoring her sole.

"Tastes delicious too. If you're a good girl, maybe I'll even fuck you. But first, how shall I punish you?"

Hyunjin does not answer. Go figure, she is a cat after all. Trying to talk to you through her eyes often ends in 'miscommunication' or rather, you doing what you know the two of you love.

"Hm, I think you deserve it in here," you think out loud while spreading her folds apart with two fingers. You can see Hyunjin's pussy twitch and suck on nothing. She wants to be stuffed badly, but you don't need to. You fuck so much pussy, so you can leave her waiting, begging with her large orbs and pouty lips.

"You want it so badly don't you kitten? You miss your Master's cock? Well, I want your feet, I need to fuck them first. My pleasure is always more important, so don't waste your time dreaming about me fucking your kitten-cunt before I cum all over your feet."

"Ang~" Hyunjin moans when you align both her feet with your crotch. Tug on your dress pants and let them fall to where they can't stop you anymore, nothing can stop you if you're quite honest. Hyunjin's defiance has you riled up, and with her feet right there, on your throbbing cock, you take what's yours.

You push forward and start to slowly thrust between her feet with your cock. The cute color on her cute toes glistens with your spit as you pump faster into the soft gap Hyunjin's soles form.

"Good, fuck," you growl and watch Hyunjin struggle to keep her paws up. "Your feet still feel nice, but it's been awhile since you've had any kind of idol training… Maybe they aren't as strong as they used to be. I'll have to test that out."

Hyunjin's forehead is covered in wrinkles. The fact that her Master doubts her abilities, her devotion to training—both for her idol-job and kitten-service—leaves her unsatisfied. She wants to prove you wrong, and she tries so by putting all her strength into her feet, creating a tight pocket for you to fuck into.

"That's a bit more like it, my little kitten. How about you try pleasuring me? Move those fucking feet."

Hyunjin mewls in disapproval, her pussy dripping wet, desperate for something to penetrate her deeply over and over again, but you snarl louder, snap her out of this defiant self-pityness

"Fucking move those feet! You're lucky I am even here right now. Your bandmates did similar things, some even worse and I still chose to deal with you first. Move your feet and get me off, what is the point of having a kitten pet if you can't do that?"

In slow pump Hyunjin starts what she has been trained for. Her tender feet create friction on your delicate skin, more blood streams to your crotch and you grow to incredible hardness. Hyunjin's feet strokes are special, but for some cursed reason you have to urge her to do it. A good, trained pet should do this on their own volitation— guess you still have a long way to go with her.

"God, why didn't you do this sooner? Fucking great. Stroke me with your kitten feet, and I might allow you to cum tonight."

Hyunjin's ears perk up. Cumming is her favorite word, she goes crazy over it. Deep instincts get triggered, which make her pumps sloppier, grippier, better, yet she seems less focused on you. It's like she is in her own world, wetting the floor with her arousal, while the arousal of her Master is an afterthought.

Your face turns from overwhelming blissfulness to annoyance at Hyunjin's absentmindedness, but real anger starts to bubble as you check your vibrating phone to see Yeojin snuck her feet into a pic as well.

"What the hell is going on with you LOONA girls?" you shout and spit on Hyunjin. "You're all defective!"

You grip her ankles more.

"I didn't tell you to space out! I can't even say 'cumming' without you turning into a brainless kitten? What good are you?"

"Meow" Hyunjin whimpers out and tries to focus back on you. Why does it always have to be such a grind, such an arduous task to make and keep them well-behaved? At least Xiaoting is showing rapid progress and Monday is still a good girl, but with all of LOONA defecting and the Miyeon debacle and—you can't even count all the betrayals, there have been too many.

Press Hyunjin's ankles from both sides, hold them steady and fuck your rage out through her feet. You have entered a different sphere, one, where orgasms don't matter. You can shoot ropes anytime and none of your stamina would drain, yet it also does not matter. The satisfaction is too little.

"Lie there and take it like a whore, kitten. That's all your worth. You don't deserve to cum today. What a fucking waste," you grumble spit on her again, straight to Hyunjin's bewildered, teary face.

White rains down on Hyunjin's upper body like snow, some of it gets stuck on her feet, and your repetitive pumps rub it all over the skin like a lotion. There are so many fun things you can do with such a kitten, but now you have to resort to a simple, really unsatisfying orgasm.

"Fuck, it can't go on like this."

You withdraw from Hyunjin's feet, then from her presence by moving to the most secluded part of your living room where a secret door awaits you behind a bookshelf. Whatever it is you get from there, it always spells either trouble or pleasure for the girls you're currently playing with.

Today, Hyunjin is in big time trouble.

"Put this on," you tell her, anger hidden behind a firm layer of dominance. "Then call off all of your schedules and plans for the next three days. You have to be straightened out."

"M-Master?" Hyunjin whimpers when she looks at the harness, chastity belt and paws with handcuffs in her hands. "I-I'm s—yes, of course."

"Good. Don't clean yourself, don't put on any clothes, don't speak a coherent sentence unless I say so. We have to start all over again."

You pull out your phone while searching for something to wear. Sweatpants and sweatshirts will do, enough with all the suits and dress pants. You're not doing business the next couple of days, though this will be a lot of work too.

Send Miyeon a short, unmistakable message, which she reads almost immediately. There is no need for her to respond as long as she arrives at your door asap.

Another message lands in the ITZY group chat, though it is only addressed to one of the members: Lia. The rest has been rather obedient, but oh God, Lia definitely needs some harsh reeducation. She is a liar and doesn't even try to get away with it.

"Things will be very different," you tell Hyunjin and close the handcuffs around her wrists. "Don't expect any mercy from me and don't—

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

357 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Text

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you (Lando Norris)

Your new job is allowing you to have new experiences, and your heart is not too mad about it either

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time in the books, I'm finally writing for Lando! This is my first long piece and I hope I did well enough!

my masterlist

Tw: curse words, mentions alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm just saying, it's closer that way. We can go and get the packages ourselves and sort out any issues with them straight away", Lando reasoned, opening his text message app so he could continue what he wanted to do. "Okay, fine by me. He's got a point, Y/N", Max raised his hands in surrender, looking at you for your opinion.

Working for Quadrant hadn't been a goal you had set out to accomplish in the strict sense of it. You didn't see yourself working for a massive company where people were stuffed in offices where the only way they could know their colleagues' names was when they had online meetings that took far too long and discussed the baseline of the issues. So, when you saw the job offer for someone in the Graphic Design area of work, you looked up the company name and saw their work, fascinated with how the guys had grown this business from streaming online gaming. Later, as you progressed in the recruitment process, you came to learn that Lando and Max also had a more public presence than you had initially figured out, despite all of your friends' insistence that "you can't be that clueless, Y/N, how did you not know that Quadrant was Lando Norris'? I thought you applied because of that", they would say as you shrugged your shoulders, "in this economy, do you think I am that picky about a job? I have my preferences, sure, but I know what I'm worth and I saw the offer was actually quite okay!", you defended yourself.

You ended up getting the spot and, so far, you couldn't complain. Most of the time you worked with Callum, Max and Tara, since your work overlapped with theirs, and every now and again, like right now, Lando would also meet up with you.

"Are you sure it's fine if I go? Your parents know Max, but they haven't met me before. Are you sure they won't find it weird?", you spoke directly to Lando, thinking that his idea, as lovely and kind as it was, didn't account for the facts you were stating.

"Max is coming because he's from the team, and you're from the team, too, so you're coming with us as well", Lando said simply, not seeing the problem.

"But he's been your friend for so long now, I'm a Quadrant Team member", you attempted again, "they don't have to provide for and give a roof to a stranger, I'll find an hotel to spend the night", you offered, wanting to be clear about it.

"You're part of the team, too! Don't worry about that, okay?", Lando said, "besides, mum loves having a full house, she's definitely the host of the family", he smiled, checking the item on his list nd carrying on the meeting.

"When we're there, we'll be able to get our hands on the embroidered Originals collection", Max began, "hopefully they're perfect and we can start working on the website", he gestured as you turned your laptop so they both could see, "this is the concept I've come up with, since this isn't as flashy or as colourful as past collections", you showed them the mood board, looking for disapproval signs but being met with looks of surprise instead, "I know it's not usually what you go for, so I also have another idea here, if you just let m-", you were about to change when Lando slapped your hand away from the mouse and holding it in his, "I really like this one, especially these posts here, I think the ideas are great!", he noted as he set your hand down on the table, "okay, then I can keep working on this", you said, closing the other tab, "do you have something better than this?", Max asked, "seems as good to me!", he offered.

"This is just a draft, I'll invest more time in this and I'll have it ready for the end of the week. That way we can have it ready when the clothes arrive. I'll text Tara to ler her know", you smiled, grabbing your phone as the boys flickered through the ideas, pointing out the different details they liked and wanted to keep.

"I'm way too young for my life to be just this, so please drive safely, Max", you said, buckling your seatbelt and exaggerating your hold on the door handle, "if you weren't such a crucial part of this team, I'd make you reconsider your jokes", he teased back, reversing out of the parking space and initiating the trip.

Lando was already at his parents' house since they had a family gathering the day before, so you and Max were driving up to meet him, "they're really nice people, really chilled as well", Max began, "Adam and Cisca, that is. I can hear you thinking and I'm assuming that is what's going on in your head", he stated.

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes, and I don't want to embarrass anyone or myself even. Can you imagine Lando's parents finding out their son's company has questionable employees? They'll mark me off as some sort of strategy fool or think that I want to take this company down, and I don't!", you uttered out, sharing more than you meant to.

Impostor's Syndrome was a bitch, and it often showed up the moment things got progressively harder, and while you knew you were able to deal with it, the little voice still nagged you.

"Y/N, you're one of the most valuable people we have on the team, and I don't say that lightly. This is Lando's baby, and yes, he's the face of it and that counts for most of it, but the work behind it is just as important and with the numbers we're having, it all comes down to you. Since you joined us the designing aspect of it, - obviously, you wouldn't be the one responsible for accounting, duh -, the compliments have been non stop, it has improved the interactions, too!", he said honestly, "you have nothing to worry about, truly", he comforted, "it's this exit here", he mumbled, checking the GPS and turning on the blinker, slowing down the car as they entered the city.

You didn't have to wait long before he pulled up to a big house, the gravel sound quieting down until it came to a halt when Max stopped the car, "Lando said he'd meet us at the door, I really don't fancy being mistaken by a burglar", he joked, getting out of the car as you did the same, stretching your legs and taking in the sight.

"Max, Y/N! Did you have a good trip?", Lando made himself be heard and seen, walking up to you and grabbing the bags his friend was taking out of the car boot, "I'll take these", he offered, picking up your luggage as you pulled on your backpack, "thanks", you smiled, following him as he led the way into his parents' house.

"My parents are in the kitchen", the Formula One driver said, ushering you to the roomy space after he and Max dropped the bags by the stairs, "Max, dear! We haven't seen you in so long, how are you?", a beautiful woman said. Her hair was brown and her skin was tanned as she hugged Max and Lando, "this is Y/N, she is our graphic designer", he presented you, the older man hugging you and his wife doing the same, "I'm Adam, it's so nice to finally meet you", he smiled warmly, "likewise", you smiled back.

"You can call me Cisca, darling. We've heard so much about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the name", she winked at you as you didn't miss Lando elbowing his mother as he closed his eyes, sighing at her, "thank you for having me over, I hope it's not too much trouble", you thanked again, feeling more at ease at their genuine welcoming greetings.

Lando quickly scrambled an answer, seemingly not wanting his parents to talk, "of course it's fine, no trouble here! Let's get your things upstairs so we can settle in and work!", he clapped his hands, walking to the corridor and up the stairs with Max as you excused yourself.

"This is your room, you have the bathroom on the next door", he pointed on the corridor after he placed your bag and backpack down in the small sofa, "Max is in the office, it's just across the hall and I'm at the end of the hall, if you need anything", Lando offered.

"Thanks, again. Do you guys want to begin now? I just need to put on some fluffy socks and I'm good to go", you said, "yes! Is the dining room okay with your parents? The table is big enough to layout everyhting", Max chirped in, whistling at your room as he looked around, "she got an upgrade, good move!", he tapped his friend's back.

After Lando cleared it with his parents, he was quick to remove the table runner and flower vase from the dining room table, extending it to its biggest size so you had all the space you needed, "you can sit here, Y/N, it's usually where the room heats up faster", he pointed out the radiator, pulling up the chair next to your and typing on his iPad.

"So this is the video idea? I like it, we just need to find some background music for it", Max asserted, grabbing his phone to check the time, "we should get going to pick up the order", he uttered.

"Do you need all of us to go?", you asked, saying the changes in your laptop as you did,

"You can pull your the backseats of your car down, can't you, Max? That way we can bring more boxes, and you and me go", Lando reasoned, looking over at you, "do you mind staying here while we go get them?", he asked, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

"I'll be fine, you go", you smiled, opening your notebook and writing down some notes.

"Oh, darling, you could've turned the lights on. Soon enough you'll be like me and need glasses", Cisca said as she stood on by the door, flickering the lights on as your eyes got used to the brightness, "I already wear them, or I should more often anyway", you blushed, suddenly getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, grabbing your case from your backpack and putting them on.

When Lando and Max left, you decided to work on the website graphics, checking how the campaign would work with the current layout, that you lost track of time.

"May I see what you're working on?", she asked, "it's okay if I may not, I don't want to intrude", she smiled as you pulled up the chair next to you, "I don't know much about these things, but I always get quite fascinated with this part", she said, sitting down and looking at the screen.

Already driving back home, Lando and Max talked about the plans once they arrived, "and that way Y/N can also finish the social media stuff, and maybe you'll have more time to actually make a move on her", he teased.

Lando scoffed, "I'm not trying to make a move on her", he defended himself, "I'm glad to know, because if those moves were what you had, it wouldn't surprise it that it didn't go very far", Max yelped as his friend took the opportunity of the straight road ahead to hit his thigh, "so that's what you talk about? Here I am thinking about business and you're meddling in my love life?".

"I never said it was love life, but since you've admitted it, it's saving me time. So, what are you planning? I could help since this seems to be stalled", Max tried again, holding his hands in protection of his body in case Lando hit him again.

"I wouldn't know where to begin, I mean, it will make things awkward if this goes south, right? I'd never be able to look at her again, much less work with her", Lando admitted, "She's very kept to herself as well, I highly doubt that she'll want to be involved with me in that way. Whoever I date or interact with has to deal with enormous amount of public eye and I wouldn't spring that up on her", Lando mumbled, taking the road exit on his left.

"So you've given this some thought, too. Here we are thinking you're coming to the meetings to help and now you're just blushing when we talk about Y/N", Max joked back as Lando shook his head.

"We're back!", Lando announced, walking inside the dining room while pushing the boxes with Max, "don't worry, mum, we're not scratching the floors", he said, sweetly kissing the side of her head, "are you planning to work for us?", he noticed she was sitting next to you, notebooks of the projects open and sheets and fabrics all over the table in front of you.

"Y/N was kindly showing me the project you're working on, for the launch, and it looks really nice!", she complimented, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other on your arm, "she's been showing me everything, I've probably stolen some valuable time from you, darling, I'm sorry", she slumped her shoulders slightly, "not at all, it's all under way, don't worry", you smiled, easing her worries, "I'll leave you guys to it, how about I make some tea?", she suggest as the three of you nodded.

"We have the boxes here, they're sorted by colours", Lando opened the first box, "these are only for the Originals collection, right?", you checked over, peaking at the blue hoodie he pulled out.

"The sizing is right, right?", Max wondered as Lando stretched it out, "Y/N, can you try these, please? We need to check if the model is good for guys and girls".

Getting up from your spot, you grabbed the vibrant blue piece, feeling its soft texture against your fingertips, "I have wider hips that average, I'm not sure I'm the greatest test model for that", you shrugged your shoulders, "keep that in mind". Taking off your sweater so your torso was covered in a strappy top, you pulled the new garment on, adjusting the strings around the neck so you could pull it all the way down, "Oh, it's so soft", you noticed, "and warm, too. And feels quite good actually, it's not too tight", fumbling with the ribbed material on the bottom as you checked yourself out on the windows now that it was dark outside.

Lando gulped as you did so. Oh, had Lando noticed your hips. To anyone else, it would be another feature of your body, but he was enamoured by them. Your body's curvy outline enticed him and he would be lying if he said that it wasn't the first thing he noticed at first glance when you arrived for you last interview, especially with the tapered pants you had been wearing.

"Looks nice. What do you think, mate?", Max turned to Lando, hoping to get an answer but finding him looking at you, "is there something wrong? I told you I'm not the best mo-".

"It's gorgeous, looks gorgeous", he breathed out just as his mother walked inside carrying a tray with tea and some biscuits, "Here's the tea, guys", she said, setting it on the table, "wow, that's a very nice piece!", she complimented.

"It is, isn't it, Cisca?", Max said, covering up her son as he kept looking at you as you tested the front pocket, not noticing his gaze on you.

"You also have a very beautiful model, you can't ignore that factor in the equation", she complimented you while you grabbed a mug, taking a sip of the warm liquid and hoping it hid your pink cheeks, "thank you", you whispered.

While Lando helped his father with dinner, Max convinced his mother to show you both family albums, and once you had the delicious food they prepared, you excused yourself so you could use the shower, wanting to wash the day of travelling away. Max and Cisca stayed in the living room while Lando helped his father prepare dessert, checking on the apple crumble in the oven so it could get golden brown and not burnt, "so, any life updates recently?", the older man asked.

Lando wasn't around as much as they both would've liked, so often times his visits also came along with news and updates, "not much, racing has been good, it's nice to have a break now, even if it's just two weeks", he offered, looking at the oven.

"And nothing else? I mean, no one special? Your mother is usually the blunt one, but I'm going to try it myself: Y/N is just a Quadrant Team Member?", Adam questioned, noticing his son's cheeks become redder.

"Is it that noticeable? I just hope she doesn't see it as much as you do", Lando groaned, rubbing his cheeks, "maybe you should hope she notices, you know? Maybe she'll admit she likes you, too. You never know", Adam patted his son's back, grabbing the gloves so he could take the tray out of the oven, "she seems like a really nice girl, kind, good work ethic, intelligent, and she's beautiful", he finished as his son sighed, grabbing the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, "she's all of that and so much more".

"Kygo is doing a set tonight", you heard Max say as you walked inside the living room, taking the spot on the sofa next to Lando since his mother had taken your previous spot when you went to use the bathroom, "I've been meaning to ask you guys if you wanted to go, actually. He texted me saying to tell him if we were planning on going", Lando stated.

"Go and enjoy being young, life is not all about work if you can't enjoy yourself", Cisca shared, "dad and I won't complain if you make noise when you get back", she winked.

"Would you like to go, Y/N? You can say no, that's fine, too", Lando turned to you. He knew Max would be down on a heartbeat, but he didn't want you to feel pressured to do something you didn't want to because you were at his parents' place as a guest.

"I'm good, I like his music, too. I've been wanting to see him live for a bit, actually", you smiled, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to have these experiences because of your job and friends.

Later that night, you're getting ready in your room, sitting on the carpeted floor and applying your make-up for the occasion. The dressier outfit you had brought with you consisted of a burnt red top and some pants as it had become the outfit you had felt the most comfortable and confident in to go out. The top complimented your chest and your midsection as your pants looked really good around your hips and butt, your legs elongated by the small heeled shoes you had spent years looking for. They were comfortable, pretty and functional, ticking all the boxes for what you needed for tonight.

"Y/N, can I come in?", your heard Lando knock on the door, welcoming himself when you said he could, "we are leaving in about ten minutes, if that's okay", he said, taking a good look at you as you fiddled with your earring, "yes, fine by me", you smiled looking back in the mirror propped on the bedside table and finally clasping it, looking back at him.

You took his breath away. It was as simple as that. Your hair had your natural curls he loved so much, your makeup complimented your naturally soft beautiful features and your outfit made you look incredible.

"You guys ready?", Max patted the door, propping himself on it as you grabbed your shoes, "I'll put them on downstairs", you said, carrying them in your right hand as you had your small purse on the left.

While you did the small, dainty tie on your shoes, Lando's eyes went straight for your chest, the slightly bent down position granting him an agonisingly teasing angle as he tried his best to look away, "you might want to be less obvious, you don't need to creep her out to get her to be yours", Max whispered in Lando's ear.

As soon as you arrived, Lando and Max walked with you to the VIP area, asking you what you wanted to drink before they went up to get it.

Lando looked great on his white shirt, the light coloured shirt looking great against his tanned skin as the relaxed fit complimented his back, prompting you to make sure you weren't drooling in public. You worked for his company, it would never be a good idea to get romantically involved with him, no matter how many times your heart leaped.

"A very weak Gin and Tonic for you, as requested", Max said as he pushed the cup towards you, carrying nother drink for himself, Lando sitting next to you on the booth and empty handed, "you're not drinking?", you asked, "I'm driving us all home today, I'm want to do it safely", he stated, tapping his hands on the table when he saw Kygo, signalling him to approach you.

"Hey Lando, Max", he smiled, "I'm Y/N, I work for Quadrant", you smiled, greeting him with a half hug as he introduced himself too, "my set is in a few minutes, you got here just in time. If you want to see it up close, Y/N, let me know and I'll make it happen", he winked at you.

The wink was not missed by Lando or Max. While Max wanted to laugh at his friend's jealous expression, threatening to send the norwegian DJ to a place that was less than nice and sunny, Lando couldn't believe his eyes. Yes, it was only fair that others, too, saw your beauty and noticed you, but to put themselves out like that, that was a different story. You didn't seem to bothered by all of it, sipping on your drink as you spoke to Max, pointing out different people you remember from Silverstone earlier that year.

"Kygo's starting, I want to dance!", you said, getting up and gesturing for the boys to join you. While you were used to having a lot less space to dance in, the welcomed freedom was appreciated as you playfully placed your pointer finger on Max's head, making him do a little spin, "now, no need to be jealous, Lando, you can twirl, too!", you yelled over the music blasting from the speakers, doing the same and sinking your finger on Lando's curls.

"I'm going to get another drink, want anything?", Max asked, excusing himself when you shook your head, "you know you can drink, I'm the designated driver", Lando offered, "I know, thank you for that. I just don't want to drink more", you smiled, recognising the next song, feeling brave and pulling Lando by his hand so he could dance with you.

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you

And I know when it rains, oh, it pours

And I know I was born to be yours

Lando twirled you would face him, chest flush against his as his colourful eyes looked into yours intensely, "I know this is very forward, and very unlike me to be fair, but I need to get it out", he gulped as he spoke loudly in your ear, looking for any sign of discomfort from you, "I really like you, like, a lot. And I would like to know if you feel the same. Because Max and my parents seem to think you do, but all I know they're just saying so that I shut up about how much I love you and how much it would mean to me", he spoke loudly against your ear as the song played.

You were struck by his confession, not expecting it to ever happen, much less like this and in these circumstances.

"If you consider this a hostile work environment, I didn't want that, but I had to be honest with you", he gulped, "just say you don't feel the same and I'll drop the subject, okay? I might have to pretend to go somewhere else so I can be away from you a bit until things are not awkward, but don't worry, I won't drink because I'm driving and-", Lando belted out before you interrupted him, moving your face closer to his neck this time and speaking into his ear, "It's not hostile if it's consensual, right?", you smiled, a glint in your eye as his own widened, chuckling as he sang the the words in your ear, taking the opportunity to kiss your cheek near your earlobe.

"Took you two fucking long enough!", Max yelled as he approached you, tapping Lando's back in congratulations, "you know what this means, Y/N? I won't have to listen to him mope about how he thinks he was made for you and you were made for him, and that the universe would have to be playing a very bad joke of you two didn't end up together!".

"What makes you think I'll stop that? I just got the girl of my dreams, now I'll have the confirmations of all I've said! You'll just hear how amazing all of it is!", Lando smiled, hugging you close to him and kissing the top of your head.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

430 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 3 months

Note

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all! Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see…

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope. Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

84 notes · View notes

lynaferns · 3 months

Text

BIOMáquina: Sense of Living

Chapter 1: Stranger danger.

Ver. [ENGLISH / ESPAÑOL]

The first meeting! In a world where humanity has confined themselves in encapsulated cities to let the outside world heal, our protagonist, Fern, breaks into the forgotten abandoment facility of Fazbear CO. in search for old materials and scrap to sell. But something's very off with this place, like the constant rotting smell that's in the air... (No, it's not Afton, there's no Afton in this AU, this is very DCA centered).

I have to mention, I never had the intention of writing this. But after I finished reading I see you, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish (Thank you again @/cipher-the-sidhe for recommending it to me! I'm too shy to tag I want to cry EDIT: it's tagged now) I got motivated to write the first chapter of my AU and doing it my way. The early version of my BIOMáquina Sun may have some inspirations from ISYS's Sundrop, but I plan for him to develop by the end of the story into something more close to canon. Sassy, not the mean sassy tho.

I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. I think I did fine but still, I'm not a native speaker, some parts may be weirdly worded. I'll be posting the Spanish version too, so you can judge my writing in two lenguages.

AU, DCA centered (but Moon doesn't get mentioned in this chapter) ...and mostly Sun centered too, Sun fnaf, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (probably), OC is a potty mouth, Sun has amnesia, nonbinary/pangender Main Character, labs and abandonment facility, retrofuturistic world, steam/dieselpunk themed.

The first post where I showed this AU and Sun and Moon's designs. There's info about the world and characters, not necessary to enjoy the story but maybe you want an idea about this AU.

BIOMáquina AU Tumblr archive, with all the posts and asks.

Youtube Playlist wich has like half of Portal's ost. I have a especific order for the songs but you can put it on mix if you want.

Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers so I'm putting here the warnings just in case. Please tell me if it needs any additional tag.

TW: implied death, near death experiences, implied abuse (non sexual), panic/anxiety, paranoia, robot gore, violence.

Wordcount: 12,874

06:23 Thursday, Weather: clear.

It's been a long time since anyone has been here. The place has been reclaimed by nature over time, not completely consumed but enough to assume that it has been around a decade without any humans moving around.

Until today.

A small hovercraft vehicle is approaching in the distance. Today, instead of their usual destination, Fern decided to take another route and explore a little. She heads to the building she has seen in the distance. The abandoned facilities of Fazbear CO. She shouldn't be snooping around an abandoned building, much less one that seems to have been totally forgotten by the world, but Fern already had experience in breaking into dangerous and abandoned places, so it was okay (no, it was not).

She looks at the place for a while before parking their vehicle. A thought of 'Why not?' incites them to enter, and that's what she does. After struggling with the entrance locks she manages to open the doors. It looks like an automatic door but with a manual system for when the power is out, it's a pretty old design. The door stays open.

06:39

Fern enters inside, it's all dark, the only light being the one that comes through the door. She always carries their backpack loaded with all the basics she needs for when he goes out for materials (trash) or exploration (for more trash). She takes out a flashlight and inspects the place. She notices that next to them is an old robot disconnected and degraded by the passage of time, possibly unable to turn back on. It seems that this bot was in charge of guarding the entrance.

Advancing through the abandoned facility, Fern finds more disconnected bots. She's not with the right equipment to dismantle them and take their valuable parts, if there is anything salvageable from these robots. She makes mental notes and keeps going. The place is worse on the inside than the outside, somehow the dirt and weeds have managed to get in and grow in the most random places.

She finds a guide map of the place, it appears to be larger on the inside than it looks from the outside, much larger than one would expect. There are four upper floors and six lower ones, the upper floors makes a circumference leaving an empty space in the center, they are factory and assembly areas for bots/animatronics, tools, electronic devices... all equipment from the Fazbear brand, they have always made their own material. On the ground floor (L0) where Fern is, it seems to be the unloading area, cargo transport vehicles, offices and power generator on the upper floors. The first two lower floors appear to be more offices, boiler room, power generator room for the lower floors, laboratories, and... another animatronic assembly area.

...The last four floors are blurred out but you can read the words 'AI testing'. Did the test rooms have to be that far down? And why 4 entire floors of the building?

There is an annotation:

Authorized personnel only. Any unauthorized personnel who passes from the restricted area will be subject to a dismissal sanction.

Oho... now Fern wanted to go in there. Why would they hide that part? What do they have to hide? Knowing the company Fazbear Entertainment, a lot. It would be cool to be one of the few people to know what's down there, even if it remains as secret as before because Fern doesn't want to be reported or arrested, leaving the city without permission is already a reason for that. But before going to the deeper floors, better take a quick look at the upper ones first, their nature makes them want to keep an order to explore the place in the most efficient way (that she can think of).

As the map said, everything up there is material and assembly, some rooms even have narrow windows that let in some light through their gaps at the top of the wall... where you can't look outside, but at least they had some natural light in their work areas, those who worked up here at least... Fern looks around, it's a mess, there are papers and metals scattered on the floor... It seems that some of them left in a hurry, due to the misplaced chairs and tables... Fern makes a mental note to stop by again and take a better look at the old tools before heading home.

Hm? The central area hasn't been seen. Fern assumed that the part surrounded by the building would be visible from a window or that there would be an entrance to a flat area, but there appears to be none. Why would they waste so much space? Or maybe they weren't wasting it. Maybe there was something else there but it was inaccessible from the surface floors.

Fern didn't waste another moment to get down to the lower levels. The power generators seemed out of order, she wasn't going to be able to use the elevators. She wasn't planning on it either, They may possibly collapse over the time they have been sitting there without maintenance. What she planned was to save flashlight power if the generator could light the way. Oh well. Maybe the other generator on the lower floors is still functional.

...

It's not. Well, she had to try it. Fern would have felt stupid if the generator would had worked and by simply not checking she would have wasted the flashlight battery foolishly. Exploring the floor a bit more before continuing down she finds a small kitchen room. Oh? Was there a kitchen on the map? Fern doesn't remember, she should have taken a photo of the map now that she stops to think about it. There should be at least one map on each floor, she'll take a photo of the next one she sees.

Going down the stairs she finds the assembly rooms and laboratory that seems more advanced than the upper levels. These looks a little less messy than the previous floors. It's still noticeable that people left in a hurry, leaving the chairs and tables in any position and dropping objects along the way, but it seems that at least they cared about storing hazardous materials in the closets, all messy but at least not exposed... some doors aren't even closed properly- look, I'd better shut up and continue.

07:12

She finally reaches the end of the floor. There are no more stairs, just an elevator that takes to the restricted area (floors: L3, L4, L5 and L6), which means she needs the generator running... or... she can force their way through the elevator doors with a crowbar... opening the emergency hatch... and slipping through the gap between the elevator and the wall, which is conveniently one of those old-fashioned designs with bar steps on the wall (Nowadays these spaces are not left unless the elevator is very large and/or has been built with plenty of space). She goes down the wall stairs to the next floor which is also closed, so she has to force the elevator's security doors again. This time it's more complicated, she has to force the door without having a supporting floor since all there is is the circular wall, the beams that support the elevator structure and the void of the pit. Fern hangs from a beam near the door, digs the crowbar between the two doors with their feet, presses against the crowbar using their legs, and pushes their way through. After opening the doors enough, the crowbar slips from between their feet and falls into the pit. Fern watches as it falls, pressing their lips, and waits for the *clinggg* sound it makes when it reaches the bottom, '...hhhhhah, I'll have to go down for it later' she thinks.

After forcing the door a little more with their hands, just enough to pass through, she is finally inside, on level L3. Oh! And the first thing she sees is a complete map, good! She can take a photo with their phone so she won't get lost. From what it seems, this map reveals that there is indeed a central area of the facilities in use. For some reason to access the center of the building you have to go down to the deepest floors and from another elevator go up to the central area... weird. The design of the facility seems made to keep something as far away from the outside as possible, with all these turns and different elevators that they make you take to get to a place that would be so easy to access if only they had put one or two doors in the ground floor or upper. There was definitely something there, Fern had no doubt, maybe she was theorizing too much and it was just a strange design choice, but what a strange design choice, there is something there for sure and Fern was going there.

According to the map, the four lowest floors contain... a good bunch of animatronic storage cells, wow. Wait, now that she stops to take a closer look, that's a lot of cells. There are three or four larger rooms compared to the rest, 'daycare', it says. ...Fern didn't like the implications of that, she didn't like seeing the cells, daycares and laboratories so close to each other. If this is what's in the first restricted floors to the unauthorized, what could be deeper? For God's sake, what did they do with the children?

Fazbear Entertainment's animatronics were made specifically to deal with children despite their questionable AI performance. The daycares could have been to test how the animatronics behave with real children, okay, but why three entire daycares on the same floor? And there are at least two more on the floor above. It would be better understood if there were only assembly and repair rooms next to the cells, but laboratories... right in front of the daycares? Shady, very shady. Don't like it, don't like it a bit.

The lower floors are more littered with broken robots than the ones above. Somehow the place is more in ruins than the surface floors, which are more exposed to the outside. But the doors seem to have higher security with card readers, some broken, not all but they seem to be able to open. Going down the stairs to the L4th floor she began to see a different bot design half-assembled, this could be an animatronic design they were working on. On this floor she only sees half-assembled endoskeleton pieces and blueprints for said robot along with promotional posters of a daycare mascot... with a... Sun...? theme. Orange, yellow and red shades.

Fern approaches one of the blueprints, 'DaCaAtt/ProtoType_Model_N15', the N15 has been underlined several times in red and there are notes all over the blueprints. It's... a clown animatronic- rather a jester, with an astral theme? The head seems to represent a sun with the right half of its face being a crescent moon, as in those representations of the sun and the moon together, the moon looking sideways and the sun facing the front... only that, here it's like they have merged two faces into one, leaving the nose crooked to the side. All the unfinished endoskeletons seem to belong to this model. It is a somewhat extra complicated design, it has a lot of joints, especially in the face, seems like they wanted to go further with this design.

It seemed a little much to Fern for a children's animatronic daycare attendant. She understood that they were trying to make him look like the friendly mascot on the poster, but Fern could come up with a couple of ideas to simplify the design of the face: a screen with facial animations, for example. And why so much complexity in the robots interior? The more she looked at the blueprints, the more it seemed to them that she was looking at a disproportionate recreation of the human skeleton in metal. She continued advancing through the facilities until she found the next stairs to floor L5.

...At the bottom of the flight of stairs is a disconnected animatronic- rather broken, it's the sun. It seemed to be crawling up the stairs... its legs and the back of its head were busted, as if they had tried to stop it from going any further by hitting it with something. Peeking through the hallways, Fern finds more sun animatronics lying on the way or against the wall, damaged, some are whole, others missing chunks or entire limbs. She touches one of the robot bodies with their foot, it doesn't move, as expected. There is a gray cord and a piece of plastic sticking out from under the animatronic's hand, Fern uses their foot again to pull the cord out from under the hand. It's a torn, stained and mauled ID card, the string is broken as if it had been torn from something, neither the photo nor the name of the former owner can be identified. It's Fern's now. She should keep their eyes open in case of seeing more cards in better condition, if she can get the generators working she could open their way to more places. If they were to be useful.

Moving down the hallway she stops to look at the poses in which the animatronics were turned off; some of them have their faces intact enough to see an expression of terror them. None of them seemed to be going in a specific direction, just... running away. They were afraid. How advanced was their AI to simulate fear? Weren't they prototypes? No developed AI is put into robot prototypes, although well, that is a recent norm in robotics, who knows how old this place is.

Now that she realizes, there is a fairly dominant smell in the air since she came down the elevator. Fern thought it came from the labs and assembly rooms, because of the old metals and chemicals, but it has gotten stronger as she goes. Like something rotten mixed with rust and motor oil.

Fern is starting to think that she would like a friend to explore this place with. The deeper she goes, the more uneasy the place gets, and the more noticeable is the lack of fresh air.

She checks out the map, from the path she has taken it seems that she is approaching one of the daycares. Where the entrance should be there is a handful of sun animatronics in a pile blocking the door that's full of scratches and bumps. It seems that they tried to force it open, you can see the desperation in the wear and tear on their hands.

Hopelessness.

It's the word that best fits seeing this situation.

Fern feels a chill run down their spine and their stomach turns. She continues forward. More animatronic bodies disconnected or destroyed, there were almost no animatronics in the storage cells, they had all tried to escape. Upon reaching the floor L6, the number of robot bodies lying around seems to decrease. It seems that they were all already stored in their chambers, or they managed to get them in and disconect them before panic set in... or revealed themselves. No, this didn't look like robot rebellion. Maybe they found out something, a rumor that got out of hand? Maybe they found out that they were going to disconnect them forever and they panicked... Fern wouldn't blame them.

Peeking through the glass of one of the cells she could see a group of sun animatronics, all in their respective cabins on the wall, connected by a head cable. Some are standing leaning against one of the walls of their cabin, have a safety belt holding them in place, others are sitting on a seat in the cabin, and others are directly sitting on the floor. They are disconnected, turned off, obviously. The floor is padded with colorful sections and there are old pillows and stuffed animals on the floor. The rest of the chambers are the same, some with empty spaces. The number of animatronics lying on the floor in panic positions is less, rather they are sitting against the wall or simply lying on the floor in a more peaceful way. They either gave up or were somehow convinced to shut down.

07:38

Finally Fern reaches the elevator that takes you to the center of the facility. This elevator is more hidden than the rest and appears to be more advanced, Fern didn't seem to know if it was going to be as easy to open as the rest... ah- wait- their crowbar. She has forgotten to go look for their crowbar, which is at the bottom of the second elevator's pit... and to go look for it she would have to go back upstairs and down the stairs of the pit because she can't open the doors from the lowest floor as she had planned because she doesn't have their crowbar.

Fern.

You're stupid, man.

“Aaaaaggh...” she groans, looking up to the ceiling. She sighs. Before leaving the room she looks around to see if there is anything that could be used to force the doors and their eyes fall on the elevator again, it has a light. Wait, it has light? It can't be, the generators don't work. Unless there is a third generator for this elevator... She approaches the button panel, indeed, the lights above glow slightly, but how is it functioning? The entire place should be shut down. She decides to press the button just to try it out and a few seconds later the doors open, the light from inside illuminating the room along with Fern's flashlight.

Even though it seems to work, Fern didn't like the idea of using it. The elevator that took her to the lower floors was as dangerous as the others but at least she didn't had to use it to get down (Although it could have perfectly fallen as soon as you stepped foot inside, you idiot), but this one she was going to have to use it to open the doors to the next floor unless she finds something to use as a crowbar. However, this elevator did seem to be in better condition than the other. Maybe if she only made it go up one floor she could access the rest of the place from there.

Fern walks into the elevator. The floors available from bottom to top are: L6, LC2, LC1, C0, C1, C2, C3 and C4, there are no Lows 5, 4 and 3, C it'll be for “Center” just as L is for “Low”. She hesitates before pressing the button for LC2, a few seconds and the doors close, the elevator makes some screeching noises as machinery that hasn't moved for a long time starts working again until it suddenly begins to ascend. It moves non-stop, the noise it makes is worrying but it doesn't stop. As fast as the doors open, Fern crosses them and turns to the elevator, waiting for it to collapse and fall back to the bottom. It doesn't, the doors just close after a few seconds. If while she's at another part of the building she hears a crash noise in the distance, Fern will assume that the elevator has fallen and therefore will have to look for something that can be used as a crowbar.

For some reason there's no map of this part of the facility. There has always been one right out of the elevator or down the stairs, but this place doesn't have one. Weird, maybe all the employees in this area had their own? Or they knew it by heart. No, the first thing makes more sense.

Moving through the hallways, laboratory rooms, assembly rooms, etc, the floors seem to be the same as those already visited, but more advanced? The walls and doors are of higher quality and security, and the laboratory equipment, tools and others seem to be of the good-good ones... and expensive, but good, and quality. The central floors seem to be the only ones with electricity, partially, not all the lights are on and some of the ones that are are blinking. 'I hope none explode-' she thought to themselves. Immediately afterwards, a security door begins to open and close uncontrollably, giving Fern a start “AH-!” After the scare she takes a breath while the door begins to move slower and finally stops halfway open. The doors here must have a sensor or something, it must have been activated by proximity, is the card still functional? She takes it out of their pocket and passes it near the door trying to find the sensor. The door reacts but doesn't close or open completely.

Fern grabs one of the disconnected 'Staff' bots down the hallway and drags it to the door, blocking it in case it moves again and gets locked inside. It's an archive office, there are papers and file cabinets scattered on the floor. A ceiling panel fell on some filing cabinets and knocked everything to the floor. Fern glances vaguely over them, some papers seem to be records of laboratory materials and ingredients. Emphasizes, seems, because Fern doesn't understand the technical and convoluted language in which they are written, whoever worked here the guy's writing was embarrassing, they keep repeating the same elements all over the page in horrible handwriting. She doesn't see anything of value in the office so she leaves to continue moving through the maze of poorly iluminated hallways and malfunctioning doors.

08:10

Fern has been wandering around the facilities for quite a while now. Most of the doors are bolted shut and can't be opened (if a certain someone had gone back a few floors to get their crowbar...), next time Fern comes she'll bring suitable spare tools to open them. Although, is it worth going that far to get some pieces of metal? With what's on the first floors should be enough to renew tools and equipment, and make a good profit in the market. She wasn't into science so she didn't know what valuable objects she could take from the labs. She could look into it later, when she's done looking into what's here first.

The closer she gets to the center, the more the hallways light up, to the point that Fern no longer needs her flashlight and turns it off, for now. There are liquids running down the walls and dripping from cracks in the ceiling. Curiously, there are fewer marks of humidity than one would imagine; the leaks did not form long ago. The doors here seem to be in better condition than the ones before, possibly they are more complicated to open if this area has electricity and they are working better than the one before. She might have to see if she finds any more abandoned cards lying around.

This area is more open... and the wall appears to curve. There is a... castle door?? Like the ones you would see in cartoons or children's tales, with a crown of sunrays as the door frame. It's not made of wood, but it is some kind of hard material that Fern can't identify. There is a card reader panel next to the frame. A light comes out from between the doors crack.

...

Is this the center?

Fern grabs one of the door handles and pulls it. She hears a sound like rails moving inside as she opens the doors. What's on the other side has to be the strangest, largest room she's seen since she entered the building. Most of the floor is padded and colorful except for the entrance and a few more square meters of flooring which is tiled in a checkerboard pattern. Where there floor is tiled, there are security tables with computers, machines of some kind and office supplies. Where the floor is padded there are children's playground structures, jungle gyms, with tubes, slides, ball pits... Above the ball pit there's a fairy-tale like tower on the wall with a balcony, red curtains cover the entrance. No idea how to get there, there must be access from somewhere else. On the floor there're boxes of toys and stuffed animals... broken, but organized by size and color, it seems, some colorful cylindrical boxes are placed in a tower. Only what's on the play area seems tidy, everything beyond the padded floor is noticeably dirty, messy, basically a mess. The ceiling lights seem to come out of beams and are shaped like clouds, not all of them are on, some flicker. At the center of it all is a tower of cables that rises until it's lost above the lights in the darkness of the ceiling.

Fern enters the room, still observing the place. Although the gigantic column of cables and tubes in the center catches their attention, their interest falls on the computers next to them. The screens are on but they don't show anything, just a solid cyan blue color and some horizontal lines crossing the screen every now and then. The computers may be broken but there could be a possibility to repair them or take out the parts and put them to use... or even sell them as antiques.

...

Fern feels watched. She looks up from the machines to the play structures. A screech of moving rails. She sees nothing. She leaves the computers aside and approaches the play area. Another rail sound. Fern turns to look at where the sound came from. Behind the cable tower. Fern takes out a jackknife from their pocket and proceeds to circle the tower. Another screech. Accompanied by another noise coming from the ball pit. Fern approaches. There is a row of cables coming out of the tower and entering the pit. Uuuum, ok...?? weird... She steps on the bridge that comes out of the pit, without entering she leans to looks over it.

It could have just been a rat but Fern tried calling “Is anyone there?” knife in hand “Hello-?”

“HeEEEL-” A tall, disproportionate, slim figure suddenly emerges from the ball pit accompanied by the tinkling of bells, sending several balls flying, creating a rain around it, some balls falling out of the pit. It's arms extended in the air in salutation and a huge smile on it's face with crooked teeth. Some 'sunrays' in the shape of elongated orange triangles stuck out around it's head. “-LO!” A sun animatronic.

“AAAH-!” Fern screamed, backing up. The robot froze in the pose and the noises of a processor running could be heard, smile not leaving it's face, white eyes fixed on Fern, it only made a couple of movements that stopped abruptly halfway through as if it had paused and resumed its animation. It must not have registered their reaction, because it continued talking as if Fern hadn't screamed in shock.

“-N-new friend-? Oh-o-OH- Are you new-?! FRIE-NEW FRI-” *SCRRRR SCRRA SCRRRGGGH KKKKRRR* It froze again while something in his internal system made a noise that sounded like 'something's wrong' and it continued again as if nothing had happened “Who are you-?! I can't find your profile-! -Do you have a profile??? Have you come to play!? Have you come for the manteinence routin-? Are you a new technic-!? Can we play NOW!? We can-! You're not on the employee register-! You need a register-!”

Its arms were stretching out towards Fern trying to reach her. Fern backed away, trying to keep as much space as possible between them and the robot. It kept getting closer, without stopping smiling, without stopping penetrating them with its gaze, without blinking.

“-profile- you need a-! You cannot perform any procedures- or manipulate- any- *srsrsrrsrsrsrsrsrrckrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrk* fromtheFAzbear'sbrand- *krkrkrkrkrkrnnnnnnnnnnrr* Do I make you a profile!? You need a-” Its fan started to sound very loudly “How were you able to enter- without a profile-!??? Do you work here? How did you get in-!? What are you doing here-!?” Fern hit her back against the cable tower and raised their knife to put distance between the damaged robot and them “DETECTED: DANGEROUS OBJECT, IS THAT A WEAPON!? *VRRRRRRRRR*” A panicked expression replaced its smile, its fan getting louder and louder “YOU CAN'T BRING THAT HERE! YOU CA- YOU CAN'T- YOU- *krkrkrkrkrkr* THE RUL- *krkrkrNNNNNNNNNGGGH* AG-AGAINST TH- *NNNNNNNNNGNNGNGGNGN-* DAN-GRROS-” It stopped forming coherent sentences and began to blurt out half-cut words amid the noise of the processor overheating.

Despite the clear problems it was experiencing, its movements didn't stop, getting closer and closer. A robotic hand reached out to grab Fern's arm, planning to take the weapon from her. Fern waved their knife away from its hand and finally broke into a run.

“AH-! eeeh-eh-e...! WAIT” The sun shouted as Fern fled towards the doors “Why are you running!? Where are you going-!? NO- WAIT- waitwaitwaitwait!” It ran after them. Fern left the play area and rushed through the doors. “WAIT-come back- I'm so...” She crossed the hallways like a bullet, ignoring the screams that became progressively quieter. She didn't realize she had left it behind until she could no longer hear it and the hallways were dark again.

Fern finally stopped to catch their breath, looking back to make sure she had left it behind. Vocalizing between pants “What... th...e fuck...? ...what...the fuck? God... what the... shit was... that...?” She sat down against a wall to rest. She hadn't realized that she had been gripping the knife tightly in their hand and now it was a little sore, if it weren't for the gloves she would have seen their knuckles white.

08:48

It's been a while. After calming down and drinking some water, Fern decides to go back to see what is happening with the sun and why it's the only active animatronic (seen so far) in the whole place. Thinking about it, it surely didn't want to scare them, possibly. It has been abandoned here for a long time, it's normal for it to be damaged. If its processor is salvageable and its AI gets a fix or two she could use it for help. But if that were the case, what should she do? She can't leave a robot with autonomy abandoned, much less in these ruins, part of Fern would feel bad but she can't take it with them. Where would she put it? Where would she take it?

That seems like a problem for future Fern.

It will be best to keep the knife, and possibly any type of weapon away. There was a lot of movement and noise at that moment but Fern believes she remembers a slight change in the robot's behavior when it discovered the knife. More erratic, more anxious, it couldn't even formulate complete words. Maybe if she went calmly and manages to calm the robot down, she could talk to it and find out what happened here. And why it is active.

She's arriving at the castle-like doors again. They're open, just like Fern left them. The robot could have gotten out and be hanging around the building, but something was telling Fern that wasn't the case. Slowly, without making a sound, she approaches the doors and peeps from the entrance, their eyes scan the room but don'tt find the sun. Fern decides to go in, thinks about calling it but backs away when she hears the screak and the rails again. If that sound came from it then it was still here.

...

Fern decides to go into the room. She wanted to prove a theory and for that she needed it to appear, and something was telling them that if she stayed at the door it wasn't going to appear. She puts one foot on the padded floor. Nothing's heard. She goes further into the playing area, the loose cables that entered the ball pit are no longer there, possibly they are connected to the robot so the logical thing would be to look for where they've gone. Starting from the central tower, the cables seem to go behind the play structure, Fern approaches to follow the line of cables.

*creeek*

A squeak. Fern turns around. Another screech. It came from the tower. Looking around she notices that the cables comes out of the play structure and disappear behind the tower. Fern approaches, circling the tower slowly, cautiously, following the cables. A metallic hand grabs their shoulder. “You are... here...”

“AACK-!” Fern screamed as she jerked the hand off their shoulder and ran towards the doors.

“No, wait, not again!” Fern leaves the room and turns to look inside holding the doors, ready to close them. But it seems it won't be necessary.

The robot has not moved past the padded floor. It looks at the tiled floor in front of them with concern, its posture is hunched as if it doesn't know what to do from that point or something bad will happen if it steps on a tile. Its arms curled against its chest, it clutches the red ribbons hanging from its wrists. Its eyes alternating between looking at Fern and the ground until it finally decides to speak.

“a...a-...y- You are here!” It says with joy, extending its arms and putting on a smile again, forced... no, genuine? “You are here again! ...a- I-I- was- you- *skrrrrrrrrr kr kr kr* You're back! And you are here and you are back and I thought you wouldn't come back and-!” it gesticulates very widely “-and-and- I'm sorry- sorry I scared you- TWICE!” emphasizes by pulling out two fingers of its hand “I'm sorry... it's just that- I haven't seen anyone in a long time! Or talked to someone! Or touched! And I was SO EXCITED! B-because you were there! And I touched you! And you were there! And I-! *skr...skr...skr...skr...* And I thought you weren't coming back! ...I thought you weren't going to come back.” Its shoulders droop and its body loses all movement, it stares at the ground, muttering. “And then I thought I scared away my new friend and they weren't coming back. But then I heard footsteps! And I felt something! And it was you! And I'm so happy! *sKNNNGNGnnn...*” It stands still again, with a somewhat creepy smile and its gaze fixed on Fern.

Fern remained silent. She doesn't really know how to react after having heard all that. The only thing that was going through their mind was that this robot showed autonomy and clear signs of stress, anxiety and loneliness. She can't leave it here but she also doesn't know if they could be dangerous or if it's just very hyperactive. They are clearly disturbed. Now that Fern noticed, one hand was more skeletal than the other, the entire casing of its left arm was missing and the ribbon was tied poorly with its bell. Parts of its endoskeleton were exposed, their casing was damaged in many places, and their jester's clothes were not much better either. The red and yellow striped pants were torn, the left leg open by a gap that ran from the bottom to top, an adhesive tape near the groin prevented the gap from spreading further, it appeared that the pants were held in place by a belt that didn't belong to the costume. The cables coming from the central tower and scattered across the floor seemed to end at the back of his head.

The sun began to look nervously between Fern and the floor again “H-ey- a- cou... c-could you come closer?” Its posture shrinks again, hands against its chest.

“...What?”

“Could you come closer? P-p-please?”

“...” Fern glances at the floor, at the robot's feet, and then at them “...You can't step on the tiled floor, can you?” The sun lost its smile and looked down at the ground, after a few seconds they nodded its head.

It looked back at Fern “I...can't. I-it's off limits. I can't." The forced smile returned “B-but you can come closer, could you come closer? Please…?”

“No.” Fern truly wasn't planning on doing so.

“Ack-! *knnnnnnnnn skrskrskrskr* W-w-w-why?!?”

“I'm just fine here, I think I'm going to stay at the door.” She said as she let go of the handles and sat on the floor crossing their legs “Besides, I don't want you grabbing me again.”

“I didn't grab you! I didn't!” They made a gesture with its hand, replicating the motion they made when they touched Fern earlier “I only touched your shoulder! I placed my hand on your shoulder!” Did it really only placed its hand on their shoulder? It happened not long ago, Fern remembers feeling more pressure than necessary. She could still feel the metal fingers digging into their right shoulder.

“Yeah... I don't remember it that way.” Fern put their hand on their shoulder “You've been trying to get your hands on me ever since you saw me.” The sun was about to open its mouth to say something but they backed out *kknnnnnnnnnnn* it seemed to be thinking in what to respond, it looked tense. Fern was also thinking about what she could do to calm them down so she could get closer, but it seemed that at the slightest chance she'll have it near it was going to pounce on them (And for your information, Fern, your attitude isn't helping either).

“You shouldn't sit on the floor.” the sun said.

“Eh?”

“*skr skr* I-it's not good *skrrr* that you're sitting on the floor. You're go-o-oing to hurt yourself, why don't you *skrrrrrrrr* sit here in the play area? The floor is softer, that would be better...” Fern frowned at them “O-o-or-” The sun looked around, pointed to the desks where Fern was looking at the computers earlier “-you could use one of the office chairs, where the security desks!” It smiled, its smile seemed more sincere this time “You don't have authorization to be there! But...” It glanced nervously at the chairs, then at Fern “It won't hurt to use it for a bit! Until the security guards come... But I won't tell anyone! Word!” It held up its hand as a promise gesture “Just, don't touch anything... they get really angry when people touch something, and then they yell at me...”

“No, I'm fine, thank you.” That chair was worse than the floor, and Fern didn't want to move away from the door. A *skrrrrrrrrrnnnnnn knnn knnn krkrkrkr* was heard from the robot, she didn't like that. The sun started looking between Fern and the chair again, finally ended up staring at the floor. The way it let its 'rays' fall was reminiscent of the ears of a saddened animal “...” “Hey.”

“Huh?” It raised its 'rays' again expectantly.

“Why don't you sit down? ...so we are both sitting.” Fern said trying to make the situation less awkward. It occurred to them that if they were both at the same height it would ease the atmosphere a little.

“...I don't need to- *Knnnnnnn skrskr* ...-Okay! Yeah, yes, okay...” It slowly knelt on the floor. It looked at Fern and then returned its gaze to the floor. “...” “I'm sorry...” It apologized again “I'm sorry, I know I scared you and that you don't trust me and I'm sorry, I'm very sorry.” It clenched the fabric of the pants where the scuff marks met with its fingers, its shoulders shrinked “...Please don't go.”

“Nah, I'm too lazy to get up now.” She said in another attempt to convince him she was staying to reassure him.

“Please don't go…” It repeated. They sounded like they were about to cry.

“... I'm not going anywhere.” She tried again, leaning back and supporting their weight on their hands. “...Word.” Fern imitated the hand gesture the robot made earlier, as a promise.

*Knnnnnnnnnnn* The sun stared at Fern's hand, then at them. “Are... you're staying?”

“Yes, I'm staying.” Fern looked to the side, thinking. She looked back at the robot “...For a while. Until I have to leave.”

“*knnnnnnn* When will you leave?”

“Eh... possibly within a few hours. So... yeah, we can talk.” (For my mother's love Fern, my child, you sweet summer child, more cheer.)

*skr- skr- skr- knnnnnnn* The sun seemed to be processing the information. Fern looked at them expecting them to start talking at any moment.

...There was silence for a minute. Fern decided to speak.

“So what's your name?”

“What's your name?” They said practically at the same time.

“Ah-”

“Oh- *skr skr skr*.”

Fern gestured for them to start first.

“I- a- *knnnnnn knnnnn knnnnn knnnnn* n-no, you can go first!” The robot said, with a constant *knnnnn* sound.

“Um, okay. My name's Fern, you?”

A *kr kr* interrupted the previous sound and only *knnnnnnn* could be heard again. It was silent for a bit. Then it decided to speak “Fern! Oh, that's a very nice name! It fits you, yes... *sk sk knnnnnn* Hey, hey, Fern...! What do you like to do-? What do you like to play? Your favorite color-?!”

“Hold on, hold on! Are you going to tell me your name or am I going to be left without knowing?”

“Um... *skr skr skr* one... *knnnnnnnn* one moment-” Again that *knnnnn*, another minute in silence “...” “Oh! Hey, hey! Do you like puppet shows? I'm very good at making them! Or I can teach you how to make puppets if you want-!”

“What I would like is knowing what to call you. Don't... you know it's rude to ask someone's name and then not introduce yourself?” She said trying to pressure them into saying its name.

“Oh! *skr skr* My name! *skr* Yes, my name!”

“...”

“*skr... skr... skr... skr... skr...*”

“E-”

“Do you like painting?! I can get some paints and papers and we can paint together-!

“Your name! How can I call you?”

“Oh-! ah... You can call me whatever you want!” They said as it adjusted its posture, sitting crossing its legs like Fern “You can use a nickname, or nicknames! If you like, I love nicknames! Do you like nicknames? Do you want a nickname? Do I give you a nickname-?! Okay!” They put its hand on its chin, thinking “Let's see...”

“You don't know your name, do you?”

“ng... *sknnnnnnnnnn*” Its head twitched and it froze in the posture looking to the side. Some fans began to make sound “nn... i...k...kno...i... I-I-I- I know! It's- It's here! Here! In my sys-! *skgghghrghrghrrrr* -TEeem... eh... ah...” It looked confused, its eyes move as if it was reading something in the air “I...” Its shoulders slump in disappointment, whatever it was searching for in its system they couldn't seem to find it “I can't...” murmurs.

“...Can you tell me your code? The name of your model I mean.”

*skgkg-* “...” “I cannot give that type of information to unauthorized personnel or not employed by Fazbear Entertainent.” It said in a monotone voice. “...” “It makes no sense as a name anyways,” it laughed “it's boring and hard to pronounce.”

“Don't you have a name they used to call you by here?”

“Um...” It's fans started up again.

“...” Fern remembers seeing something written on the posters she saw earlier, something about sun...drop? She looked around. Those same posters were here too, on the walls and desks along with others that seemed more outdated. 'Sunnydrop', said the posters, although it seems more like the name of the candy they promote. “Eh.”

“Hm?”

“What if I called you 'Sun'? For short, for the moment. Like a short version of the poster over there.” Fern said, pointing with their head and thumb. “And 'cause, well... it's literally the shape of your head... it's not very original but...” (I'm not pronouncing that whole name every time I want to refer to you.) “I don't know, how about it?”

It looks between Fern and the poster until it smiles and nods its head vividly “Okay, yeah! Call me Sun!” It looks happy with the idea. The fans and noise of its processor have reduced. Fern already has a name for the sun animatronic, Sun, ironically. “I like it! Oh, I like the nickname you gave me!” Its 'rays' make a spin around its head followed by some *clicks* and *tics*, was that to express happiness?

“Hey.”

“Yes, friend!? Uh-Oh! Is it okay if I call you friend?” It seemed nervous again. Fern was going to have to be extremely careful talking to Sun if at the slightest it'll get upset over something like calling them 'friend' instead of using their name.

“Yeah, sure, call me whatever you want. Hey, how long have you been here?” Possibly not the best question to start with but Fern had many questions about this place and especially about Sun.

“For-! Uh... *knnnnnnnn skr skr skr skr* since... *kr kr kr kr kr kr kr kr kr* uhhh...*skr skr skr srk*”

“Okay, stop stop.” After a few moments Sun stopped as instructed, along with the processor's noise, and looked at Fern with curiosity and a feeling of having done something wrong. “Let's see. How long... have you been On? Since the last time you started up again.”

“Oh! I can anwser that! *knnn krkr kr skr...* Four...thousand *skr skr kr-* two...hun...dred ninety...-EIGHT! Days. Since my last reboot... Ah- no- well... since my last hard reboot. I don't really need to shutdown but sometimes I need restarts... Be a few minutes (or hours) 'off '. Oh, but since then I've been fine! Working perf-*skgrah*-ectly! *skr*.” It swung its fist to the side with energy and a smile, ignoring the distress call from its system.

“...Yeah. And those noises that are constantly coming out of you? They don't sound very good, to say the least.” She's right.

“I've already fix-! *skgrr-* I've already fixed it! S-sometimes it happens and I don't realize it, but I always fix it!” “...” “I-I know you were a little scared before! And-and that- And that I acted weird! I...I know! I'm sorry... But that's it! I'm functioning perfectly!” It swung its fist again, this time with less enthusiasm “...Seriously...”

Fern looked at Sun thoughtfully “Back... in the ball pit. The noises were much worse and constant, and you froze with every movement or at mid-word. Does it happen to you often? I am no expert!” Fern held up their hands in excuse “But I wouldn't call that 'functioning perfectly'.”

“I-I- said I already fixed it! *skrgggrggrgr- kr kr*” There it was again.

“It's getting worrying, you know?” If it wasn't already before.

Sun waved its hand in denial “Nothin'nothin'nothin'-! *skrrr* It's nothing, it's nothing! *kr kr*” It repeated over and over between loud processor noises, the more it panicked, the longer the noises became “that that that! Dasit-! That's it! *skr krr-* There! *skrrrrr- kr- kr- kr-* Now, it's-! *sknnnnnnnnn skrGRRRrrAH* IT'S ENOUGH!” Its fans were starting up again along with the noise at an alarming rate. Sun started to make a sound that resembled hyperventilating. By panicking, it was asking too much of the internal system and it became destabilized (Hey Fern, the part about being careful with what you say, no, huh?).

“Okay! Okay, calm down. It's okay.” Fern sat forward raising their hands, still kneeling on the floor. Sun looked at them as it tangled its hands together. “It's okay...” She tried to think quickly what to say “You said that you had been... like four thousand or so days On.”

“*Skr skr* ...Four thousand two hundred and ninety-eight...*skgr*” It frowned at that last noise.

“Four thousand two hundred and ninety-eight days, okay. And in all that time, have you seen anyone else besides me? Have you received maintenance or any messages from them?”

Its expression shifted to a bewildered look at Fern. It started playing with the ribbons on its wrists “No... No, but-” It tried to show a smile again “-but it's okay, I've been taking care of myself a lot-lot-lot-! And I have been very careful! And I've paid attention to the alerts! And then they won't have much work ahead of them...! For... when they come back...” “...” “They're taking their time. They're...-they're taking a long time to come back.” It started rocking on the spot, back and forth “But it's fine! Because when they come back-*skrgrgrhs* when they come back- I'll-! *skrgr* I've been behaving well! I've been behaving very well.” It suddenly lowered its tone of voice. It looked at the floor while its hands still played with the ribbons, tangling them between its fingers. “I have been good. They won't have to worry and will be able to return to their work. I have been very good. I am functioning perfectly. There is no problem. I'm fine. I already fixed it *skrnnnnnnnnn*” Again the noise “I've fixed it, I've fixed it, I've fixed it!”

“Okay! Okay. Alright, I believe you.”

Sun looked up and tensed its shoulders... and its 'rays'. It looked surprised, like it had forgotten Fern was there. “*Skr skr skr skr skr skr skr skr* Oh-! Oh.” It looked at the ribbon tangled between its fingers for a moment, untangled it, and looked back at Fern as its hands continued to play “I- didn- ...I'm sorry.”

“I was- I was just wondering, how... come that-” 'How are you still functioning after all this time?' was what Fern wanted to ask among a thousand things. But seeing Sun's expression, that mix between stress, fear and somehow enthusiasm, just to be there, with someone. Fern decided to put their questions aside “You know what? Why don't you ask me something?”

“*skr skr* Oh! I've already asked you a lot of things earlier! You still haven't answered those~!” It said with a more cheerful tone.

“Sorry, I don't remember them, can you repeat them for me?” Better to start gaining its trust.

Sun's posture tensed as it leaned forward, it clenched its fists with enthusiasm and its 'rays' shrank and extended, making a wave effect around its head, it made an inspiration sound “*GAAAASP* What is your favorite thing to do-?!What do you like to play-? What places do you like going to-?What's your favorite color-?!Your favorite song-?Your favorite food-?Do you like puppet shows-?Would you like me to teach you how to make puppets-?!Do you like nicknames?Would you like me to give you one-?Do you like painting-?Can we do make-?”

“One at a time! I can't keep up with everything.” Fern cut them off before it continued its endless list of questions. Sun had that guilty look again with its 'rays' drooping. Before it could began to apologize Fern continued “What's the first thing you want to ask me?”

“Um- eh-ah- *knnnnnn* What's your favorite thing to do in the world?!”

“Humm...” Fern took a moment to think. She could give a random answer to move forward the conversation faster but she wanted to be honest. And she was having a hard time because she couldn't remember what she liked to do most. “I guess... uuuuuhh... drawing? Although- well I don't really draw much.”

“*kr kr* I like to draw too! And painting! And crafts! What's your favorite game?!” Sun jumped to the next question.

“Uf, uh...” Fern wasn't great at remembering their own interests. It's hard when you don't think about it often, or ever “I don't think I have a favorite game... Mmmm-I like it when the game uses cards... but I don't know.”

“*skr kr kr* Oh! I also like card games. What's your favorite color?!”

“Oran...ge...? No... Well, yes, but maybe pastel yellow... although I also like some shades of green and purples.”

“*skr skr kr*” Sun seemed to be taking note of everything Fern was saying before asking the next question. “You can choose more than one! I like sky blue!” How ironic “What's your favorite food?” If it wasn't for the enthusiasm it gave off when asking and waiting for the answer, Fern would have thought Sun was getting back at them for asking it difficult questions earlier. It could be, but hard to believe with the little bounces it gave in place while smiling with excitement.

“I mean... I don't know- I like salty foods, and some acid ones but... I wouldn't know what to tell you my favourite food is.”

“*skr* Oh, well... I like cupcakes!”

“...How can you have a favorite food?”

“Why wouldn't I have???”

“Can you eat? Are you made with the capacity for it?”

“*kr knn* Ohoho! No, I can't eat them, but I like how they look! I think they are pretty! There are many ways to decorate them...! *skr kr kr* Oh! I also like homemade cookies! You can give them any shape you want and decorate them and you can also make them colorful!” What Sun seemed to like was the process of making them, makes sense.

“Ha.” Fern showed a smile of understanding.

“... *skr krkrkr skr kr*” It took a moment to ask the next question. “Do you like music? Do you have a favorite song?” It seemed more relaxed talking.

“I like it but um... I couldn't tell you... I've never chosen one as 'the favorite' ...you know?”

“*SKRRR* Y-you don't have to choose! Y-you are not obliged *skr kr*” Sun must have noticed Fern upset, but it wasn't because of them. What bothered Fern was not being able to give a confident answer. “Everyone has a hard time choosing sometimes-! *kr* There are a lot- lot of songs and music! How to choose just one... ahaha...” It laughed.

It continued the relentless bombardment of questions. Sun asked the typical basic children's questions when they have just learned how to make friends and chatted about various game topics. Fern tried to slip some 'discreet' question about the Fazbear company and Sun, but it would get nervous when it was unable to respond and would hung up, so they would change the topic again and talk about personal interests.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It's been a long bit.

“*knnnnnnnnn*... Do you… do you have a favorite place?” Sun asked, showing a bit of shyness.

“...” It took Fern a while to answer “I- guess... My house? I don't know..."

“... D-don't you have... a comfy place? A place where you feel more comfortable than others?”

“Heh, yeah, my bed…” Their answers became more and more vague.

“Oh-! *skr* hehe... Does that mean you're not an early riser?”

“Actually, I usually get up early, but who isn't comfortable in their bed, you know? Besides, I get up early out of obligation. It's not that I can just stay in bed and do nothing.”

“*krkr* Oh...haha, of course...” There were a few seconds of awkward silence until it asked “Uh... a-a-are you bored? A-a-are -y-y-ou getting bored?” Its fans began to be heard.

Fern cut them off before it could start rambling in panic again. “No no! It's not that... it's just that-” She wanted to explain themselves but couldn't find the words. “I don't know. I guess- I'm a little tired, and lost in thoughts. I wasn't expecting...this” She pointed their hand in Sun's general direction.

“...Ah?” Sun tilted its head to the side in confusion.

“I mean... it's just...” I came to steal old material and scraps “I came in here expecting to explore a little and leave and now I'm... sitting here. I didn't expect to be answering questions about me or my personal tastes in craft materials.” She looked at Sun “...Or to have a conversation with a robot” Sun frowned a little at that last bit. “Not to belittle! I didn't expect to find anyone when I came here.”

“No no-! It's not that- ah- Why weren't you expecting anyone??” Sun asked with genuine confusion “There are always a lot of people working here, especially during the day!”

“...” Oh, boy. That “uh... Sun” It's better for them to know it now as soon as possible ...right? “I think... no one comes here anymore.”

“...?” Sun looked at Fern with bewilderment but maintained a light smile.

“...”

“...a-”

“AHAHA-” Sun suddenly laughed. Its posture and smile had frozen, its gaze fixed somewhere behind Fern.

She knew it wasn't looking at them, she swayed sideways and made various arm gestures and poses to check it. The *knnnnnnnn* that began to sound confirmed to Fern that it was still working and had not suddenly broken, maybe it just gave an error and was processing a response. “...Sun?”

“HA-” *SKRGKRrrgkk...* It looked like it had a spasm for a moment. Its head tilted and a mechanical *click* was heard, shortly after its face made a full rotation followed by more *clicks*. Its smile widened again, maintaining its worried expression, it put its hands on its ankles and began to sway back and forth rhythmically. “Silly-silly-silly-silly-silly-! *sKRKRrrg* OOOOH so silly-! That's so silly-! AHA-ahA ha-! Don't say nonsense!” It said smilingly.

Fern could only look at Sun in bewilderment and pity.

*skr* It stopped its swaying and relaxed its tone “Don't be silly, friend. Of course people still come! They have to come and do their job! Their work is very important! They wouldn't all quit so suddenly!”

“...Has anyone been here in the last years?” Fern asked, worried for the answer.

*skrKR* “You have come!” It responded instantly happily “You are here! -Right now!"

“...Sun,” uff “Have more people come here besides me in the last years?”

“...” *skrkr skr kr kr kr...* Its smile was falling but it didn't disappear completely. “Surely.... they are working in another part of the building. -Y-yes *kr*, they must be very busy! Working! Elsewhere...!” A low *kr kr kr kr* began to be heard “That's why... it must be that... You aren't a new technician! Right!?”

“¿¡!?” That took Fern by surprise. “Um- nope.”

“A-a-a-and- you haven't seen anyone since you came in here! Right!?” *skrskrskr*

“...No-?”

“Of course!” *SKR* The half-joyful-half-nervous tone returned “-Of course you couldn't have seen anyone! You don't work here! You can't have the work schedule or know where they might be-! You can't know- aHAha-!” If Sun noticed the worried looks Fern was sending him, it must have ignored it.

“Y-yeah okay, but- alright... and... haven't you thought... that they haven't stopped by to visit you in a long time?” Fern gave a small worried smile. “-Haven't you seen them in a while time?”

“LIIIke I said before- they're busy- they don't need to come see me now! *krkrkr* It must be that I don't need to be examined at the moment! That must be it haha! You're not from here so naturally you don't know! You don't know what they're working on! Don't worry- don't worry-!”

Fern could only think that this was going to be more complicated than it already seemed at first. The robot continued with its paranoia that this place was still running. Something light up on its face, as if it had remembered something.

“B-besides- they said they would come back tomorrow! So it's fine! They'll be back!”

That got all of Fern's attention. “Wait- holditholditholditholdit-! They told you they would be back, tomorrow???”

Sun nodded its head vividly “Mhm! That's what they said!” It looked more cheerful.

“But- like, tomorrow-tomorrow?”

*Sknnnnnnnnnnnn* Ah, one of the various sounds of thinking “They said they would be back tomorrow!” It drops that and stays chill, with a smile on its face.

“So you're telling me... they talked to you today?”

“Oh, no! I haven't seen them today...”

“They sent you a message then.”

“No no, I haven't received any messages in a while.” *skr*

“...” For the love of my life “They... told you the date they would return, and that date is tomorrow?”

"No, silly!" it said with laughter “I'm telling you, they told me they would be back tomorrow!”

Fern was perplexed. She was finally managing to get even a sliver of information out and she had gotten themselves into a loop with the robot. But wait- “Sun, how long ago did they tell you they would be back tomorrow?”

Sun stayed silent, the only audible sound the long, drawn-out *knnnnnnnnnn* it seemed to do when it thought. It dug its fingers into the fabric of its pants near its ankles and didn't move again. A while passed and it was still motionless, thinking. It began to repeat a sequence of noises as if it had gotten stuck in its thoughts and suddenly the sound stopped. Its smile fell, its body lost all the tension that kept them upright, and it slumped to the side.

Fern startled. “¿Sun?” Didn't seem to respond “Oh, God...” Just as she thought of getting closer to check if it was okay, Sun sat up, making a lot of mechanical *clicks* and *tics* as its limbs settled back into their natural positions. It could be hear the fan running and soon the *skr skr* it had been doing the whole time they were talking.

It finally looked up at Fern. It seemed to function normally again, “...” “...” “...HEEEEL-” or almost “-LOOO... *SKGrkrgr* N-new friend-? Oh-o-OH- Are you new-?! ARE YOU FRIEND!? *kgr*” This sounds familiar... Sun got up from excitement, it couldn't stop bouncing on the spot. “Who are you-?! What's your name!? *skgr* I can't find your profile-! -Do you have a profile??? OH! Are you the new playmate!? Wait, are you here for the routine maintenance? *kr- kr-* Are you a new technician-!?” And we start again “Can we play? Can we play NOW!? Can we-! You're not on the employee registry-! You need a registry to-! *skgrkrkrkr* How could you get in without a profile!??? Do you work here-?” It stopped dead and stared at Fern. Its white pupils scanned them from top to bottom. “*skrgrkrg* *GASP* You don't work here! How did you get in-!? What are you doing here-!? INTRUDER! STRANGER! ¡AAA-!” His rays tensed, Sun began to run in circles screaming “SECURITY ALERT! SECURITY ALERT! WOO WOO WOO WOO!” And imitating alarm sounds. Its screams mixed with the noises of its processor and fans. Fern could only look in amazement and disconsolation at the panorama.

“Sun.” She tried calling them but it kept going 'woo woo' while running and doing pirouettes across the floor. “Sun! Hey!” No case. Eventually it went back to just spinning around in circles while shouting 'DANGER DANGER' over and over again. “Sun! Listen! SUN!” It stopped but not because of Fern. It had frozen in its animation again, its head and hands rotating in place, sparking from the friction. Now it was just repeating 'ERROR ERROR' non-stop with a monotone voice.

Fern panicked, she spun around on themselves looking around, searching for something. She located an old, dusty ball behind a chair and threw it hard at Sun, hitting them in the face. Somehow this made it stop completely. Fern watched silently waiting for something to happen but Sun remained motionless without making a sound. A few seconds later the fan sounded again along with the rest of the usual noises, it took them a while to start up. When it finally did, it returned its gaze to Fern, scanning them up and down.

“...” “*GASP* New frie-!”

“AH- NAH-no-no-no-no-nah-! We are not going through this again!” Fern cut them off before it could start with everything all over again.

“...f-...frie-nd-...” That left them in shock. It lowered its rays and its posture shrank. The *vrrrrrr* of the fans could be hear.

“Y-Yes- yes... friends! We're friends” Saying that seemed to help improve its mood. Sun went to open its mouth to speak but Fern was the one who did it first. “Before you say anything-! Um... No, I don't work here and I don't have a profile. Yes, I've snuck in, uh- don't activate the alarms yet, I don't have any bad intentions...” That last one was partially a lie. Don't get upset, okay? ...We don't want you to suddenly shut down and collapse again.” Sun tensed up upon hearing that but did as instructed and remained calm for the moment. “We've been talking for the last- THREE HOURS.” Fern looked at their watch, it had been over three hours and she was having a hard time assimilating it but she looked back at Sun who was expectant of Fern's words. She took a breath and continued. “Okay, look, we've been talking for a long time and you've already asked me everything about me. Y-you should have that information recorded somewhere in your memory! It happened just now.” She paused to see if Sun had caught everything she said and gave it a moment to search for said information. It could be hear the *skr skr* of thinking and the fans. After a while it stopped making noise, but the nervous fidgeting of its hands let Fern know it hadn't collapsed again. “Do you remember anything of what happened in the last few hours?” She asked.

Sun seemed to have come out of the trance it was in and started looking between its hands, the computer desks, and Fern. “*skr- skr-*...uuh...uh...” The fidgeting passed from its hands to the ribbons “...yyyyyess?? uh- *SKRG* I- *kr* I shouldn't give- *sKRGRRGKRgrrss*” Oh no... It froze again- “Yes! Yes, of course! Ha- How would I forget-?” It had that expression again between happy and on the verge of an attack “I haven't forget anything! I haven't forget anything-! Don't worry! It's all here-!” It raised its arm doing a swing with one finger pointing at its head. “It's here! I forgot nothing- nothing! It only took a lil' bit to load- haha...” Sun smiled awkwardly while Fern looked at them with concern and seriousness. “Yup, a-aALLLl in order! *-skrgr*” It confirmed one last time.

Fern let out a tired sigh. She looked worriedly at the watch on their wrist. 12:11 “Okay... okay look, I- have been here for a long time now, I should go-”

“What-!? No no! *-kgrkgrgr* Please no!” Aaaand Sun panicked again. “Don't go! HahA-! I- Um- Can-! *SKGR* I-I-can-can-can- a-any- thing! I can do anything-! Whatever you want-!” Its voice was cutting off with static and it let out gasps between pleas, its rays were trembling. Fern tried to say something but it was only a murmur between Sun's desperate screams. “Don't leave yet, please! It's still too soon! Don't leave me alone! I don't want to be alone-!”

“I'LL COME BACK!” Fern finally raised their voice.

“...eh?”

"Listen." Fern made sure she had Sun's attention “I cannot stay any longer, I just can't! I've already spent longer than I intended here and I have a lot to do. So...” She sighed and looked at Sun, they maintained eye contact. “...I'm leaving for today, and I'll be back tomorrow, okay?” She saw confusion on Sun's face, from the sound of *Knng* and the way it tilted its head it didn't seem to have understood. She repeated again gesturing with their hands as she spoke making their points clear. “Today: I'm leaving. Tomorrow: I'll be back... Understand?” She let a few seconds pass to see how it'll responded.

It had its hands together, one finger scratching the joint of a knuckle on its exposed hand. Its noises could be heard at a lower volume and the rays from its head shrank and extended in a wave movement. It finally reacted “ah...uh-... o-okay... okay... *skgr* a- Yes! Alright... okay...” It nodded with a shy smile. “*skr... skr...* um- I-... if- If my friend says- *kr* says they're coming back, then they're coming back! Ahaha...” It tried to return to a more cheerful voice. It sounded like it said it more to themselves than to anyone else. “Ri...ght... friend?”

"Sure." Fern nodded, tilting their head to the side.

“...” “...Do you promise...?”

“Yes.”

“...You promise you'll be back here tomorrow?”

“Yes, I'll be back here tomorrow.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Do you really promis-?”

"Yes!" Sun jumped back, its eyes and shoulders hunched and it looked in fear at Fern. “Sorry...” She sighed “I promise. I really, truly, really, truthfully promise that I will be back. Tomorrow morning I promise you I'll be right here.” Sun looked at Fern expectantly. “...” “Word.” Fern held up their hand in promise. Sun imitated the gesture “Okay?”

Its expression brightened, the rays came out again and its posture relaxed. “Okay, y-yeah, okay! W-we'll see each other tomorrow!” It confirmed.

Fern was relieved to hear Sun finally understand and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay, then... I'll get going, alright? Bye.” She waved goodbye as she headed towards the doors.

“¡Ah! Uh... Can you close the doors on your way out? The doors have to be closed if no one's here...”

“Yeah.” She grabbed the door handles and pushed them.

“U-um- S-see ya!” It said waving its hand in the air.

"See you tomorrow." Fern confirmed one last time, “Bye, Sun.”

Sun stood there, waving timidly into the air, watching as its new (apparently) friend disappeared after closing the fake castle doors. It stopped waving “...” “Who's Sun?”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Fern was back on the first elevator, the one that wasn't working and, naturally, she hadn't forgotten their beloved and much missed crowbar. She made a long descent to the bottom of the pit using the stairs on the wall to get it back and climb back up. She sighed, “Next time, I'm bringing two crowbars.” She climbed back up to the roof of the elevator and entered through the emergency hatch to reach floor L2. After coming out of it, she stopped in front of the doors to look at the state of the crowbar more calmly 'Wow, it's pretty good for having fallen from 30 me-' *SKREEEEEENNNNNNGG* Fern flinched at the sound and turned to look at the elevator.

*SKREEENNNGG NNNGG NNNGGGGGGGgggggggggg.......*

*...*

*BOOMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.............*

“...”

Fern stared with their eyes wide open at the now empty elevator shaft. She looked at the crowbar in their hand. She decides to put it away and return home. We aren't going to think about how she narrowly escaped that, no. If she had taken few more seconds to come out and turns into mush, in an elevator pit, in an abandoned facility, in a building not even its mother knows, in the middle of nowhere. Nope! We aren't going to think about that, better to get out. Down the stairs, straight ahead to the right. Fresh air here she goes.

As soon as she left, Fern felt a pressure release from their head. Just a few meters away from the entrance she felt like she had to sit down and take off their backpack before getting where she had parked their hovercraft, she needed clean air. The fresh air helped them clear their head and thoughts. She hadn't realized until now how overwhelmed she was feeling being in there, apart from the recent scare with the elevator, which has also made them feel anguish.

She looks at the clock, it's past one o'clock in the afternoon. She should eat something if she's driving home after all that walking, climbing, and running. She gets up from the ground and drags the backpack along with their body to collapse in the car so she can eat there. It's a little harder to carry the backpack with the extra weight of the tools she has been collecting on the way back (hey, they were free). She takes off their gloves and digs through their backpack to take out the multipurpose knife, the lunch box containing the chicken with rice she had prepared in the early morning and an apple, some of the rice has stuck to the lid of the lunchbox and she scratches it off with the fork. She spends a few minutes digging into the food until she finally decides to bring a portion to their mouth.

Although she decided not to worry for the moment, Fern can't help but think of the robot trapped and abandoned at the bottom of the building... who's alone again. Should she really come back tomorrow? Yes, she promised, but, what difference would it make if she just pretended nothing happened? What consequences could there be-? In fact- Fern would be suffering consequences for taking responsibility for a defective and damaged robot. Bots themselves are already a pain in the ass to maintain and the lack of bot rights management doesn't help, there is nothing that protects them; there's no way to get good insurance for them, especially for models from 5 years ago. If your bot is older than that you better have a complete manual stuck in your head on how to solve any absolute damage or problem it may suffer, because if not, you're both very screwed.

Speaking of which, how is Fern supposed to repair a robot as broken as Sun is? Especially one made by Fazbear Entertainment, the bastards make their own unique tools and parts of exclusive use for their company. You can't find them anywhere. It would be impossible to repair one of their animatronics unless she made each piece by hand and- um- no. Thank you. Is Sun even in saveable condition? Would it even be worth it? Even in the hypothetical case that she managed to save it, what would she do next? She doesn't have space at home for a robot that's taller than 2 meters. There is the machine refuge, yes, but...

...

Could she even help them? Without compatible or interchangeable parts I highly doubt it. It would end up turning into useless scrap metal. Not much differece from what awaits for it inside. There really wouldn't be any difference between leaving it here or taking it to the city.

Nobody knows it's there.

...

Fern knows.

...

But no one else knows of its existence. Who would care?

...

It's down there suffering and nobody knows.

...

Fern knows.

...

Without realizing it she had stopped eating and was just playing with the fork. Let's see, on one hand we have: a damaged, defective and hyperactive robot in an abandoned facility in very poor condition an... give it an hour and a half by hovercraft away from the city, without much chance of repair or survival in or out of this place, not to mention the lack of knowledge about its model. On the other hand we have: guilt.

On the one hand: Fern wouldn't feel right just leaving it here, Sun has autonomy and in the time they have known each other it has demonstrated enough intelligence to have its own opinions and make decisions for itself, it clearly has a developed AI so it is capable of feeling emotions; in other words, its suffering is real and it is morally wrong to leave it like this. On the other hand: she wouldn't know where to put it, as said before, there is no space at home and Fern has neither the resources nor the time to take care of it, they wouldn't accept it in a job or company because it already belongs to one, on top of it with a bad reputation. The refuge is an option but it wouldn't help much, it could end up becoming a burden and may not end up getting along with the other bots that are already there.

What will win in the end? Rationality or morality? The crushing and tormenting feeling of guilt! Of course! That's why Fern is sitting curled up in a ball, perforating with their gaze at the half-eaten rice and chicken, unable to make up their mind. She could at least try. Try... something. Even if it's just, paying them a visit? She already promised them that she would come back tomorrow. At the very least she should go see them tomorrow, she doesn't have to go every time, she doesn't have to repair it either. Maybe keeping company is enough? From the looks of it, it doesn't seem like it has much of its lifespan left... Oh God, she's really considering doing this.

For now, Fern will worry about finishing their meal and driving back to the town. She'll think better about it when she gets home.

#Edit: fixed a word count mistake #again. I'd really appreciate the feedback please #I'd like to get better at translating and adaptation. this was rough #my writing #biomáquina au #fnaf daycare attendant #dca au #fnaf sun #fnaf dca #selfinsert #character & selfinsert #character & oc #platonic #no ships #fanfic #long post

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