#CARHOP COOL

[the-real-big-man]

@the-jade-jester27

AHHH I DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WOULD ASK ABOUT MY CHARACTERS I'M SO SORRY!!

This is outrageous behavior on my end,,, so I've compiled a master list of the characters included in the 10th anniversary post! Just in case anyone else wanted to learn a bit more about the OCs involved in it!

I totally didn't have to draw her a new reference because of the fact that the one I was using was outdated and didn't have the pattern I changed it to in a different, unfinished piece.

This is Cotton! She's a Security Breach OC I made around 2022 ish? It's been a while. I mainly made her as a pseudo self insert, she's a very self indulgent character of mine because I got tired of trying to CONFORM and deny my Cringy rights.

>>>EDIT I FORGOT TO MENTION A COUPLE NON PLOT RELATED THINGS FOR COTTON: Mechanics wise Her eyes are LED screens so she can change expressions (and eye colors) at will. Her main feature though is her voice box, since it allows her to mimic the voices of the Animatronics at the Pizzaplex! She likes to use it to calm children down, by pretending their favorite Pizzaplex animatronic is calling them through her and giving a few in character words of encouragement! Of course, this kind of voicebox is primarily meant to play soothing lullabies to lull children to sleep, since her area used to be riight under Sun and Moon's balcony, and it was meant to be a naptime nook with a bunch of pillows and lots of glow in the dark stars. That's about it for the edit though, I just forgot those last couple of details for her.

Story wise, she's the assistant to the Daycare Attendants Sun and Moon, she just helped around the Daycare a lot. A lotta fluff there since they were in a very lovey dovey kinda relationship until an accident at the Daycare caused her to be permanently removed and any records of her completely wiped from the Pizzaplex's system. She lives under the Pizzaplex now in that area where you find all the Endos, there's a section in this kinda AU where they shoved all the equipment from the old Daycare into ("The old Daycare" being the one we see in the Trailers for Security Breach).

~~~~~

Alright, the next two characters in that post are Dolly and Alice (Dolly being the cat and Alice being the bunny/hare). Both are Security Breach redesigns for characters I've had even longer than Cotton, and their stories are not as fleshed out unfortunately. At least in Security Breach the idea was that they both ran a section of the Pizzaplex that was a roller skating rink, it had two floors (the second overlooking the rink itself, kinda like a balcony? I don't know how to explain it) and it's very cool and awesome. Mechanics wise they're both pretty speedy, and when Gregory manages to dismantle them Freddy obtains Dolly's roller skates and Alice's hearing/ears. Essentially, speed boost from Dolly and you hear a little jingle when you're near an item while inside of Freddy, their whole area is entirely optional from my perspective since they're kinda like DJMM where they don't have any real plot relevance.

~~~~~

Just in case these are also the original designs for Dolly and Alice! They're both a part of a smaller spinoff Fazbear's location set around the same time as FNAF 2 ish (mainly saying that because they're loosely based off of the Toy animatronics)? Dolly's design is based off of some Carhop designs I saw some years ago, because she is a Carhop at this location (She's supposed to "skate" up to parked cars to take their orders and then deliver the food when it's ready.) Alice's design is meant to be a family friendly version of Hooters, mainly because I couldn't think of a different design idea for her. She's the Animatronic that skates around indoors, same type of job as Dolly, just indoors. The location concept wise anyways is about as large as the original FNAF 1 location (which is to say not at all).

~~~~~

That's about it in terms of characters? The only other character in that post is Sun/Sundrop but that's more or less just my design for the character since I wanted to make him look more cohesive with Cotton's design (since they're meant to be a pair if that makes sense). I have to update Sun/Moon's references BUT I do have an MS Paint shitpost of Moon in the updated outfit so I'll leave it below. (it's mainly a joke but this is quite possibly the only proper reference i have for the outfit so you'll have to bear with me here.)

~~~~~

UPDATE NUMBER 2: Heyyyy it's me, back at this post because I wanted to update it to mention that I actually finished their references! Their... second batch of references... Yes I put Cotton in there again, mainly because I wanted a height reference (and it's somewhat also in reference to their older ref sheet.

There's also a Nighttime/Dark alt to said ref because I wanted to show off their glow in the dark, since yeah Moon and Cotton glow in the dark. How does that work? Hell if I know, I just think it's cute, cut me some slack here!

[scandalousadventures]

Your dolls are so cool!!! And they look so professionally made, it's almost hard to believe they are made by hand!! I especially love the alien skating carhop girl, she's beautiful, and the magnets in the hands so she can hold an order IS SUCH A COOL IDEA. love your art. Thanks so much for sharing it on Tumblr!!

YOU ARE TOO SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I'm so glad you like them and I hope I can continue to impress 🥺😭

[planetary-wolf]

Carhop at Sonic: Hey how you doing? Pretty cool out, huh?

Me, sweating my balls off even in the shade in the car: you.. think it’s cool out here?

Him: Nohoho, it’s hot as hell out here, I’ve been in the sun all day and I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten 10 shades darker

[pitymisskitty]

Listen, Kitty's a fucking pro on skates, alright? Sure, she prefers a board, but she can skate with the best of them. So when she heard there was going to be a carhop at Peggy's with skating? Yeah, she hopped on that shit. It was fun! Except that some people just didn't know how to drive, and others (her own coworkers, like, come on, guys) didn't know how to skate, and there was even a select few that just didn't know how to walk. So many people, so much noise, so much fun, and it was a little overwhelming! Fun, but overwhelming!

It was only a matter of time before Kitty's expert moves got her in trouble. Not everyone can hang, you know? Kitty's skating like a pro, but Janis doesn't even know how to lace her skates properly, and someone's trying to pull into a spot that hasn't even been vacated, and, wow, maybe she should take a breather because she's getting that too tight in the chest feeling, and she doesn't want to ruin another uniform by wolfing out. She's on a collision course, she could see it, and she thought, This might as well happen. But her wrist is grabbed, and she's jerked out of the way, blinking at the person in front of her and shaking it off like she's too cool to be affect. "Huh? Me? Yeah, what? I'm totally fine. Are you fine? You good. You, uh, wanna order something?"

Where: Peggy's Diner Parking Lot With: @pitymisskitty

It was initially the scent of cooking meat that drew Alcher in, wandering downtown until she found a parking lot full of cars and people on shoes with wheels. It was a curious sight, one she was unfamiliar with. Humans often did strange things, though. Not just humans, she supposed. It was likely some of the people there were fae as well. And perhaps even other wolves. It was unlikely she was the only one drawn in by the smell of fresh meat.

Most people receiving food seemed to be in their cars, but Alcher didn't have one. She stumbled a tad awkwardly around the large, metal machines, finding it difficult to see much in the mess of colors. As she stepped out from between two of them, she felt something bump into her-- or perhaps she bumped into them. Either way, she whirled quickly and reached out, grabbing the wrist of whoever it was to keep them from falling over completely, her reflexes reacting before she'd even really processed what had happened. "My apologies," she said quickly, looking at the person. She could tell she was a younger girl, but there was something else-- that feeling, that sense. The familiar scent. Alcher let go. "Are you...alright?"

[whirlybirbs]

⋆    ----   CARHOP COOL.

summary: you know steve harrington, sure. are you suprised when your best friend, robin, brings him and her new friends to your place of summer employment? definitely.  pairing: steve harrington x reader, post season three word count: not enough, honestly. a/n: i’d like to thank not only god, but joe keery’s hair

                                          MASTERLIST   ⋆   NEXT   ⤍

“Dude.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?”

“... Okay, he’s sometimes, like, the dumbest person I know but he means well --”

“Robin, he bullied the shit outta me in the fourth grade -- he called me four eyes and I didn’t even have glasses.”

You cross your arms, face immediately pulled into a look of despair as Robin slings an arm around your shoulders and snaps her gum with a sigh -- before you is the aforementioned bully, engaging in an overly complex handshake with the one and only Dustin Henderson by the back bumper of Nancy Wheeler’s station wagon.

In the blue light of the August evening, there’s a crowd gathered of familiar faces. Jonathan Byers, his brother, Nancy Wheeler, her brother, a few younger kids you recognize from the halls of Hawkins...

And Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, illuminated by the drive-in diner’s neon sign over the back of your shoulder.

“I can’t go over there.”

You rock back and forth on your pastel pink roller-blades. Your Roll-o’s carhop uniform, comprised of a matching pink and blue collared shirt and miniskirt, is a plain old mockery and despite Robin’s insistence that it’s “cute”, you can’t help but feel like an idiot as you clutch the tray of orders for the group of kids hanging out by the new hatchback.

“He’s changed, I promise,” Robin says gently, shaking your shoulders, “I swear, he’s cool now. He... He even knows -- y’know, about me.”

You narrow your eyes on the big haired kid in question. Protectiveness flairs at the idea of him being anything but nice to Robin knowing that much. Your friend adjusts the company policy hat on your head. You’re skeptical. “...And?”

“And he’s sweet about it,” she says genuinely, voice going a little sing-song, “C’mon, it’ll be fine. If you’re with me, you’re cool. I promise. I’ve talked enough about you --”

You spare Robin a look, sigh and push your shoulders back.

“Fine.”

Steve almost doesn’t recognize you.

It’s been -- I mean... It’s been a three months since graduation but it’s been longer since he’s even looked at you. One distinct memory flies to the front of his mind from Freshmen year, when in Mrs. Cortez’s class, he launched a spitball at the back of your head during the Spanish II final while Tommy H. cried he laughed so hard.

Steve cringes.

“Guys! This is my friend,” Robin jogs up alongside you as you stop before the gathered group; her voice dips into something grandiose and charming as she sports spirit fingers, “Queen of Roll-o’s herself, a menace on wheels --”

“Sick blades,” chirps a younger girl with fire red hair, balancing on a long board, “Are those yours?”

You blink, mouth parting. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I just got new wheels --”

“They match,” Robin grins, gesturing to the whole outfit, “Like I said, Roll-o’s Queen.”

“Part-time seasonal Queen.”

Nancy grins, giving a small wave from beside Jonathan. She leans on the bumper -- she’s always been nice. Her and Barb. “How’s your summer been?”

You roll back and forth, shrugging with a polite smile. “Boring. You?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy laughs, hinting at something you miss, “Super boring.”

Robin seems to snicker, sharing a knowing look with the rest of the group -- she leans, muttering something about how she’ll fill you in later and leaves you with a lot more questions than answers.

“Riiiiiight, well, here’s, uh, here’s the orders -- uh, who had the Double Chunk Snickers Swirl?”

Steve freezes.

He’s been kinda busy through all this, sucker punched in the jaw by how shitty he was in high school -- and... I mean, K through 12, really. He’s busy staring at you, wondering if you’ve been this pretty all this time. You had a perm for a while which, really, wasn’t the best look, but... I mean, c’mon, did popularity really blind him for that long? Maybe Dustin had a point. And Robin. And... like, everyone.

Dustin elbows him so hard in the side that Harrington jumps six feet in the air.

“Oh!” he clears his throat, “That’s me. Hi. Sorry -- uh, hi.”

You bite back attitude, feeling Robin’s eyes on you. “Hi, Steve.”

Oh, Steve reads that ice cold look from miles away. He shrinks, sheepishly offering an apologetic grin and takes the frappe from your hands.

“I, ha, I couldn’t resist. It’s so good, right? I mean, you must know that already because you, uh, work here. You work here.”

You narrow your eyes. Steve wavers.

"Mhm.”

Robin nudges your side. You ignore it, moving on to hand out the rest of the orders. When you’re finally done, you move to tuck the tray under your arm and try your best to ignore the burning stare of Steve Harrington.

Is there something on your face?

You slip him a look as Robin speaks. Your eyes connect for a millisecond and you both shove it away.

“You should definitely come with us to the beach next week,” Robin says to you, slinging her arm around your shoulders as she sips her milkshake. She speaks with a full mouth of malt, “It’d be fun!”

“I don’t wanna intrude --” you blink around the group who all seem to be busy enjoying their ice creams.

“No, no,” Nancy says, grinning as she waves her spoon, “It’d be nice to have another girl around.”

“And someone who understands D&D.”

You gawk at Steve, the one who said it with a surprising lack of mockery, then back at Robin.

Betrayal crosses your face as you whisper, horrified, and shove Robin lightly at the exposure of the untold hobby between the both of you.

“You told them?”

“Listen,” she says, raising a finger, “That campaign was good! And Steve the Paladin over there needed some pointers --”

Your jaw drops.

Steve looks like a deer in headlights.

“You play D&D...?”

Steve’s whole face goes rosy. He digs his spoon into his flurry.

“Uh... Yea, I mean -- listen, it’s Dustin’s fault --” he stutters, jutting a thumb in the direction of the curly haired camper, “And... uh, if you came to the beach, I could tell you all about my character, y’know? If... If you want.”

You blink between him and Robin.

“... Fine.”

She cheers.

“But, I’m driving.”

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

come home with me

author’s note: here’s a college au! because that’s what I do xP also a couple of weeks ago I mentioned something about sonic and remembered it’s not universal SO: sonic is a drive-in fast-food place (so there are stalls and you eat in your car)

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Sonic. What’d you do, grow up in a cult?”

Cas frowns at him. “Yes, Dean, I did.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he pulls into the tiny stall of the drive-in and puts the car in park. “Well you gotta get mozzarella sticks then. And a Route 44.”

Cas leans across the seat, over Dean, and peers at the lit-up menu. “Why’s it called a Route 44?” 

“Because it’s forty-four ounces.”

“...What about ‘route?’” Cas fingers curl around air quotes.

“Route. Driving on the road. This is a drive-through?” Dean sighs. “I gotta get you out more.”

“We’re out right now.” 

Dean refuses to let Cas order, instead getting them tater tots, mozzarella sticks, milkshakes, and slushes. 

Cas slips his feet out of his sandals and props them on the dashboard--Cas is the only person Dean lets do that, because Cas is the only person Dean lets do a lot of things.

They were randomly assigned roommates at the start of the year, and now there’s only a few weeks left until summer, so Dean is trying to cram in as many “normal people activities” until Cas goes home to his literally cult-like family.

(Dean has tried to convince Cas that he should come home with him to Kansas, at least for a week or something, but he hasn’t managed to get Cas onboard yet.)

Cas is weird, which makes sense, but he’s also a lot of fun. He makes all of Dena’s favorite things seem new again--he’s never listened to any music that isn’t classical or Christian radio, he’s never seen a color movie, and watching TV? Absolutely not. Dean’s gotten the opportunity to give him a crash course in all things Humanity, and along the way, he’s gained a friend. 

“Why do you have to go back, anyway?” Dean asks after their food arrives (Cas is delighted by the carhop wearing roller skates). “I mean, they let you come to college.” They do this often, picking up a conversation they dropped off hours ago as if no time has passed at all.

Cas sighs and sets down his milkshake (the inspection of a maraschino cherry was fun to watch). “It was part of the agreement,” he says heavily. “I get to go to college if I spend my summers at home.”

“And what about after college?” Dean asks around a mouthful of tater tot. “I mean, you’re gonna go out into the world, right?”

Cas shrugs. “Not necessarily. My older brothers didn’t. They just married women from our church and stayed.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows that Cas doesn’t want that, because Cas told him so, a few weeks ago. 

They haven’t talked about it since, but it was a late Thursday night when Cas returned to their dorm room, practically in tears after a scheduled phone call with his parents. Dean had intercepted Cas in the best way he knew how--with a leftover slice of the pie he’d made in their dorm’s communal kitchen that afternoon, a slice he had saved just for Cas. 

They’d sat on the floor of their room and, between bites of pie, Cas told him that he was gay (which didn’t shock Dean at all, really) and that he had told his parents (now that shocked him). Apparently they hadn’t reacted well. That night, they’d both slept in Dean’s bed, because he didn’t want Cas to be alone. 

Now, in the neon glow of Sonic’s lights, drinking slushes, that time seems both far away and immensely close. Cas stares out the windshield off into the distance, slurping thoughtfully on his milkshake, before saying, “But there’s nothing I can do about it, really.”

“You could come home with me,” Dean says in a rush. “I know I’ve mentioned it before but...I’ve already asked Mom and she said it would be fine, and there’s a guest room at the house. And you would get to meet my brother! You two could nerd it out all the time. And there’s a really cool park there, with those flowers that you like, and--” Dean stops in his tracks, because Cas is staring at him with a curious expression on his face, his head cocked to the side.

“You’re sure your mom would be fine with it?” Cas asks. 

“Like I said, I already asked her. She’ll put you to work, though.”

“It sounds nice.” Cas sighs again. “Sounds better than going home. And you’ll be there. I would miss you this summer if I went home.”

Dean’s not sure what drives him to do it, but he sets down his slush and reaches across the seat for Cas’ hand. Cas lets him take it and then threads their fingers together. 

Cas smiles at him, and Dean realizes that he does, in fact, know why he’s offering Cas the guest room back at home, why he held him close that night, why he reached for his hand just now. 

It’s the same reason that he scoots closer, hoping he’s not reading things wrong, that Cas gets it too--

Cas does get it, because he abandons all pretense and leans in, pressing his lips against Dean’s. Dean’s breath hitches as he gets a handful of Cas’ shirt (which is actually one of Dean’s that he threw at Cas last semester to get him to stop wearing button-downs all the time), and then their lips slide together. 

When he pulls away, Cas looks a little starry-eyed, and something occurs to Dean.

“Was that-was that your first kiss?” Dean asks.

Cas looks bashful. “Yeah.”

“...Was it a good one?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says thoughtfully, but Dean’s known him long enough to know that Cas is screwing with him. “We might have to try again.” 

[mellow-elbow]

I always thought it'd be cool if Sega would play around with the fact shadow skates rather than runs y'know incorporate some maybe figure skating moves in him shadow can be a bit graceful as a treat

Tbh I always associated it more with roller skating vs ice skating 😂���� in the 1950’s (roughly when he was created) carhops were super popular and roller skating was what everybody did.

He shares a lot of similarities with roller derby, both in spirit, personality, and movement/stance. It takes a lot of leg strength to move like that

[quartztwst]

No look away and look at my cool fem azul carhop waitress thing

DID I FORGET HOW TO SPELL I WAS TRYING TO SPELL ACTUALLY BUT I SPELT “AZUL” AUTOMATICALLY????

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[thewritercometh]

So I've been writing again...

And I have the start of a modern fantasy story in progress. In it, a human named Jack accidentally slips between worlds and ends up in a timeless fantasy world.

"And that's the last one," Jack grunted as he took the bushel basket out of the wagon and set it next to the cellar door.

Ellie smiled as she made a tally mark on her clipboard, then turned to regard the setting sun for a moment.  "And before sundown," she nodded, satisfied.  "Ya done good work this harvest, Jack.  We 'ppreciate the help."

Jack paused to stretch.  "No worries, Ellie.  So, you want help getting the equipment in tonight too?"

Ellie turned to look back toward the orchard in thought for a few moments, bumping her Stetson back a bit with her thumb.  "No," she finally decided.  "Not tonight.  We'll take a breather for a day or two, then bring in equipment and start fixing and putting it away for the winter.  For now, hang it up, go get some rest.  I'll take this basket down."

"Alright, sounds good.  I'm gonna stop at the pump and get some water on my way home, alright?"

The blonde minotaur nodded as she hefted the full basket off the ground.  "Yeah, no worries. Your cup should still be hanging there. I know that water's good 'n cool, but try not to drink too much. Still got a bit of a walk to town yet."

"No worries, boss.  Have a good night!" Jack called and threw a wave over his shoulder as he turned and headed toward the faded red hand pump next to the barn.  Sure enough, his tin cup still hung there, waiting for him.  A few pumps to get the water flowing and Jack filled the cup for the first time.  Swishing the water in his dry mouth, he spat it out and filled the cup again.  He slowly drank, and sighed when he finished.  This water was some of the coolest and freshest he'd ever tasted, here or back home, and he found it a little difficult to resist chugging the water til he was full and fit to burst.

He had another cup and was about to leave, when the family border collie, Dottie, trotted up and put on her biggest begging eyes.  Jack chuckled and pumped a bit more water, which Dottie happily lapped up.  "Alright, I gotta go now.  I'll see ya later," he told the dog as he hung up his cup and made his way down the driveway and back toward town.

~~~~~~

Jack, though tired after his long day, still marveled at the little town as he walked past the welcome sign.  This town, this whole land, had a bit of a timeless feel to it.  He spotted a couple cars and trucks trundling along that resembled his world's Model T's and A's.  He heard the passing whistle of the evening freight train, pulled by a steam engine.  Down the side street was a diner, complete with a jukebox and roller skating carhops.

He considered stopping for a burger, but he was nearly back to the library, and the room he rented in its basement.  Maybe next time, he thought as he continued.  He made it nearly fifteen feet before he paused and changed direction, heading toward the diner.  I  think Cherry is working tonight.  I’ll swing by and say hey, maybe grab a milkshake.  I earned it, he thought to himself, smiling as he walked.

The human approached the diner, lit up with neon signs and promising greasy fast food.  Just like home, Jack thought, just as he nearly collided with a pink-haired carhop skating by with a heavy tray full of food.

With a smooth swerve, a jaunty hop, and a quick spin, the crash was avoided and not a drop was spilled.  “Hey Jack!” Cherry, the pink-haired carhop happily greeted as she skated in reverse, her free hand waving enthusiastically at the man who had nearly walked right into her.  “Go right in, I’ll get your chocolate milkshake with whipped cream, cookie crumbles, and chocolate syrup!”

Jack was stunned for a moment.  I was just thinking that! How did… No, it’s just Cherry being Cherry.  You oughta know that by now.  With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he went inside and chose an empty stool at the counter.

“Hey stranger, long time no see!” Maybelle greeted as she walked up to Jack, pulling her notepad out of her apron pocket.  The cowtaur searched for a pencil in her pockets, before realizing it was stuck behind her bovine ear.  “What can I get ya?”

A pink blur whizzed past, depositing a tall chocolate milkshake with whipped cream, cookie crumbles, and chocolate syrup on the counter in front of Jack.  Maybelle sighed and stashed her notepad.  “Cherry Sense strikes again.”

Jack chuckled and started working on his milkshake.  Perfect, like always.  That sixth sense of Cherry’s is something else, he mused.  It had freaked him out when he’d first arrived here, but now he was coming to accept it.  “Cherry Sense strikes again,” he agreed with a smile and a nod.

~~~~~~

Ohh, how does Cherry make those milkshakes so rich? Jack mentally groaned as he once again made his way down the street toward the library.  He’d originally stopped for just one, but fast-talking Cherry managed to convince him to get another chocolate shake, plus taste-test a cake batter shake, in order to ‘prevent bias’, as she’d put it.  The shake was delicious, as was everything else Cherry made, with one notable exception.  Jack’s stomach lurched at the unhappy memory.  Or maybe it’s the start of indigestion, he mused as he finally made it to his destination and let himself in.

The place was quiet as Jack closed the door behind him.  Maybe Laura was out tonight?  Or maybe she was already asleep.  Who knows? Jack thought to himself with a shrug as he made his way to his room in the basement.  He flopped down on his bed, attempting not to jostle his stomach too much, and reached over the side for the book he’d been reading.  His hand brushed over it, and he slowly brought it up to his face.  

Finding the page he’d dog-eared last time, he cracked the book open and began to read, “Chapter Eleven, The Sun Temple…”

[mianmiansimp]

beloved, your face has cast some magic on me

'Every weekday at 1:15 p.m. precisely, Lan Wangji drives 52 feet from the Sylvia Blvd-Johnson St intersection and turns right into the entrance of Red Lotus Diner.'

In which Wei Wuxian is a hot carhop and Lan Wangji simps.

_

Every weekday at 1:15 p.m. precisely, Lan Wangji drives 52 feet from the Sylvia Blvd-Johnson St intersection and turns right into the entrance of Red Lotus Diner. He places his order - one yogurt parfait and a large cookie, every time - and waits quietly. To passersby, he looks stoic and distant, which is just as well. It wouldn’t do to have them know that his bones are trying to vibrate out of his skin.

After only a few minutes, he catches the sound of wheels rolling on gravel. Rolling towards him, closer and closer, a pattern of sounds that make his heart race faster as it gets louder. He turns his head slightly, and his eyes catch a red ribbon. It’s the same shade as the glossy lips grinning at him.

“Lan Zhan!” exclaims Wei Wuxian, and they do the little spin - oh heavens, thinks Lan Wangji dazedly, despite the fact that they do this every time - that makes their skirt twirl around them as they rest against his car door. “A-Zhan, Zhanzhan, Lan-er-gege, hello! Here’s your usual!”

“Wei Ying. Good afternoon,” says Lan Wangji softly, a stark contrast to the chaos in his head. It’s worse than the Fourth of July in there - louder and brighter and sharper and so very explosive. He applauds himself for keeping his cool and not crying at the sight of Wei Wuxian’s ethereal self.

They start regaling the happenings of their day and the latest news - “I bugged Qing-jie until she spilled and guess what, she and Cang Liqiu finally got together, it’s been forever I swear” and “You should’ve heard Jiang Cheng’s scream this morning, it was hilarious, this makes me first in our prank war” - as they hand over the tray, but Lan Wangji is only partly paying attention. Wei Wuxian’s fingers brush against his, a brief touch, and his mind completely shatters. Electricity sparks and zips ups his hand, travels along his nerves and spears through every inch of his body, and it takes every ounce of his focus to clamp down on a shudder. He curls his toes in his shoes and grinds his teeth together.

Wei Wuxian tosses their head, hair in their signature ponytail, and huffs to get their bangs out of their eyes. Lan Wangji wants to kiss them.

“Anyway,” they laugh, “How’s Jingyi doing? You said last time he had just about mastered Chopsticks.”

It is Lan Jingyi who Lan Wangji is on his way to meet. A distant relative of his, and close friend to Wei Wuxian’s son and nephew, whom he was teaching the piano. His lessons begin at 2:00 p.m. precisely every weekday. Lan Wangji is fond of him, and glad to speak of him. He tries not to look at Wei Wuxian directly, lest he combust.

“Jingyi is progressing well. He performed The Celebrated Chop Waltz for his school talent show. They did not give awards. However, should they have, he would have likely placed.” Having excessive pride is forbidden, but Lan Wangji does not. Whatever one may say of his personality, Jingyi is an excellent and dedicated student with much skill and potential.

Wei Wuxian smiles bright and delighted, as they always do when they hear about children. If they don’t stop doing that right this instance, Lan Wangji might do something ridiculous, like consider taking a chance and kissing them right in this parking lot.

“Aye, Lan Zhan, so proud of your student! And just as well, huh? Jingyi’s a brilliant little thing, it’s no wonder A-Yuan loves him,” they say. “That actually reminds me, A-Yuan’s been mentioning this for a while but I-”

Lan Wangji does not hear what A-Yuan was mentioning because his 1:30 p.m. alarm goes off. He is irritated enough that he nearly scowls, but thankfully Wei Wuxian’s vibrant presence makes it difficult to be very upset.

“Oh, I’ve kept you too long! You better get going! I’ll tell you later, after shift. Give Jingyi my love, and tell him A-Yuan and his Baba are very proud of him!”

“Mn,” replies Lan Wangji, and refrains from asking if they have some love to spare for him too. “I can pick you up from the university after your last class.”

Wei Wuxian brightens further at this. “Sure, sure, thanks Lan Zhan! You can come and visit A-Yuan if you want, he always wants to see you.” They glance at the clock and their eyes widen. “Wow, yea, ok, you really need to go, and I need to get back to work. I’ll see you later, ok?”

They turn around and skate forward, towards the lot-side entrance of their family’s diner, and Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. He is about to internally lament the loss of Wei Wuxian’s proximity, except they abruptly halt and hesitate, before quickly spinning around and rolling back to his car. He arches a brow slightly in confusion and wonders if telepathy is real. He’s about to open his mouth and ask what’s wrong, because for all that he loves Wei Wuxian, they both really do need to go to work.

And then Wei Wuxian darts forward and kisses his cheek, and his mind completely blanks. His conscience has been reduced to a white void. He has no thoughts, only radio static.

“Um, bye Lan Zhan,” they say quietly, face flushed - Lan Wangji’s thoughts briefly come back online to wonder if that blush spreads further - and skate away so quickly one would think Jiang Wanyin was chasing his down.

It takes Lan Wangji a moment to be acceptably functional, and another to be functional enough to drive. Typically, he arrives at Jingyi’s house 10 minutes before the lesson is to begin, giving him time to set up as Jingyi works through the cookie from the diner. Today, he is only on time, not early, so Jingyi has to wait until after the lesson. Lan Wangji has to hurry a bit setting up so that he wastes no more time.

Later that day, when he goes to pick up Wei Wuxian, he makes them take responsibility for their actions by pressing them against his car and kissing them hard and slow.

[ main . ao3 ]

[saintfrenetic]

i hate to do this, but i'm between jobs and need a little bit of financial help.

here's some backstory:

i was fired today because i mentioned to some coworkers that i didn't like my job and one of them told my manager. when i got to work today, i was asked to speak with her in her office, and she then told me that she heard i was unhappy at [franchise] so i was dismissed and not wanted back. so that was cool.

she also made a dig at my phsyical health because one of the reasons i didn't enjoy carhopping was my knees. i have to wear two knee braces to work, i usually take pain meds throughout my shift, and i have to take ice baths when i get home. she told me i should pursue a career in sitting instead of standing or walking since i clearly couldn't handle it so that's neat.

i'd started applying to new places yesterday and I've put in 12 so far, but haven't heard back from any. i don't know how long i'll be without a job and i'm currently trying to move out of my transphobic, abusive mother's house.

if you can't donate, please reblog! anything is appreciated ❤❤❤

cashapp: $rsfrenetic

venmo: @rtfrenetic

paypal: saintfrenetic@gmail.com

[ask-aph-baltics]

Tolys as if he were in sonic. There is some designs I’d change obviously but gotta stick with iron wolf with a sword because.... yeah.

Bonus, my own style and a series i started in like 2016 with a Prototype Title of Joel. The MC’s name.

Joel is a human, kind of. All of his life he thought he was just crazy and no one believed him when he said he had two massive demonic worms sticking out of his back. Most others cannot see them. He’s a carhop and works at Sonic Drive-In or A&W type of place, can roller skate and what not. The worms, they can touch and mess with stuff. Based off my late cat @bjthecat​ I made the worms like trained to chase after bottle caps and such. He’s trained them to respond to the sound and other things and to him, for now, he’s just a human guy who sees these worms and everyone thinks he is crazy even if the worms can respond and react to think that can feel or see them.

After he notices he’s been being trailed for some time by a strange being, he decides to track it down too. There he finds a ghost and the ghost wants to take the worms, explaining A: well they’re not cool snakes, B: they’re a parasitic heartworm C: they’re not supposed to grow this big in humans... nor exist in humans... what the fuck. D: i want you for experiment time woo.

Joel is not pleased and they kinda duke it out but they eventually find out in a sense they’re worthy rivals and joel, who’s worms overpowers this ghost dude, on the sheer fact that he can pass it like a parasite to spiritual beings (ghosts and such) grosses out the ghost dude.

the two work together to uncover secrets they never thought possible AND start to find more paranormal things in the school, like how the weird emo kid who doesn’t talk to anyone and is always kinda scary and playing with lighters is actually a werecat that terrorizes the town or other monsters that show up.

I don’t  have much in there developed but I’d love to discuss more of this with people and build off it. :/ there is two other characters, regulars at the drive up place that sit at the table, playing TCG and eating fries, and they’re obsessed with paranormal stuff and they’re always watching Joel carefully trying to expose he is hiding something.

[27koi]

scrapbooking has become gentrified. im taking it back to its roots of putting scraps in a book. its not pretty linda. i am not worried about aesthetics i just want to put this sonic receipt in a place i can see it again because the carhop had a cool name.

[cosplayinamerica]

Carhop Lucio from Overwatch: Nelliceus

So I actually came up with the idea because I want to do a pin up version of Lucio. I play roller derby for Houston Roller Derby and love skating so I always thought that a female 50's version of Lucio would be really cool. I thought a carhop would be the perfect fit. I actually did this costume for an event at church everyone knows I cosplay, but none of them have seen me do it until this one.

The costume wasn't horrible to put together the hardest part was finding the correct colors for the outfit. I like to up-cycle clothes for cosplays if I can because I like to have a base to start. I found the green shirt in a thrift store and the skirt online.

Everything else I already had in my craft room. I made the apron and put Lucio's logo on the shirt. Had some old headphones that I spray painted yellow. The tray that I used was actually a green record! It was a nice touch to the over Lucio look. I also had on light up wheels on my skates so the whole time I was skating around my wheels light up.

Cosplay has made me so much more comfortable in my own skin. It gives me the confidence to wear absolutely any outfit cosplay or not and lets me be a role model to other young girls of color.

I play roller derby and come from a sports background. I ran collegiate track and field and that is where I met my husband and we have been married for going on 9 years this year. I love anime and comics and am a Nintendo lover as well as coffee and photography.

Nelliceus is a mix of my whole name Ja[nell]e Chere[ice] Dolph[us] I also go by my roller derby name which is Gazelle.

____________________ Overwatch on Amazon https://amzn.to/2LZMDSz

[whirlybirbs]

⋆    —--   CARHOP COOL, 2.

summary: you see steve at family video. it prompts some reflection, some questions, and some good ol’ memories of your time at hawkins high. you try to stay frosty but it’s hard when steve harrington is being so nice. pairing: steve harrington x reader, post season three word count: 1.7k a/n: here it is, folks! part two! we have a beach, a movie, and a lotta tension. 

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It’s weird. 

He’s weird.

Steve Harrington is weird and he’s changed and you’re not really sure how you feel about it.

As you pull into the parking lot of the Family Video in your beat-up, slate grey Civic Hatchback, you catch a glimpse of the high school legend in question through the front window. 

He looks the same as he always has. Tall, doe-eyed, good hair... 

Stupidly good looking.

Steve was a mythic figure in grade school. High school just... elevated things. It was like Senior Year came and a throne was vacated just for him -- he was the king of Hawkins High and everyone knew it. 

Then, Nancy Wheeler dumped him for Jonathan Byers and everything changed. 

His title of Prom King was snatched by the grubby, freckled claws of Tommy H. with Carol on his arm that fateful night, then Billy Hargrove walked on and booted him from captain of the basketball team, and then he was rejected by, like, every college he applied to -- or so rumor had it.

(Jenny Larson had told you all about it during the spring production of Oklahoma!... She was obsessed with him. It was like she’d opened his mail or something. You wouldn’t put it past her. She had crazy eyes. You and Robin were always a little freaked out by her. Eugh.)

And, so, Steve Harrington and his mighty hair faded into the yearbook pages of Hawkins Class of ‘85 as a fallen king. 

And now, here he is: selling VHS’s alongside his best friend who was also your best friend. 

(You wonder if that makes him your best-friend-by-proxy? You’d rather not think about it. Best friends don’t launch spit-balls at the back of each other’s heads during Spanish finals and laugh about it and never let it go. Best friends also don’t point and laugh at that DIY perm you did sophomore year, no matter how bad -- best friends, like Robin, help you slather your hair in conditioner and relaxers while you sob in your upstairs bathroom at your fried mane. So, no, Steve Harrington is not your best-friend-by-proxy.)

Narrowing your eyes, you drum your fingers on the steering wheel and snap your gum. 

God, you really don’t want to go in there.

But, then again, you wonder what you have to lose. What, the approval of some washed-up cool-kid? Screw him. He’s dumb anyways. He’s... all hair.

Literally.

Cutting the engine (and subsequently the Donna Summer track playing on your radio), you haul open the door and decide to get this whole thing over with. 

The bell above your head chimes as you walk into the Family Video and Steve Harrington promptly chokes on his can of New Coke upon realizing it’s you. 

It goes up his nose. 

Quickly, he tries to rebound.

“Hey! Hi!” he chirps in an uncharacteristically excited tone, “Welcome, uh, to Family Video!”

You freeze in the doorway and squint.

Steve’s been having some thoughts.

Wild, he knows, but Robin had keyed into how spaced out he’d been since he’d seen you the other night down at Roll-o’s and had decidedly not let it go -- “Just like you never let her whole perm thing go, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington!” -- in a well-aimed play of well-deserved vengeance. 

For the last three nights, he’s been beating himself up over the sudden realization that he’s got cold feet -- and even Henderson noticed it. 

But, seriously? Could you blame him? He was a grade-A asshole for most of high school and now he’s a huge loser (self-proclaimed, despite both Robin and Dustin’s protests) and you’re super cool. You’re all frosty poise and pastel rollerblades. 

And here he is, working part-time at Family Video, spending the rest of his summer indoors.

Steve Harrington, pale loser.

Not to mention, you had a lot of friends in high school -- maybe not swearing loyalty to any one group, but you fleeted around and blended in and you got along so well with everyone. Everyone knew it was you and Robin Buckley against the world. 

Compare that to his own dumb ass and he’s the world’s saddest pale loser.

At least he has Robin. And you do, too.

Which is why you’re here. In Family Video.

Staring at him.

You pull your sunglasses down your nose, furrow your brow and speak slowly.

“Are you... okay?”

Steve plants his palm on the counter, a sudden flare of nerves lighting his chest on fire as he card a hand through his hair and smiles with the gusto of a man living by the motto fake-it-til-you-make-it. “Me? Yeah -- yeah, I’m good. How’re you? What’s up?”

You push your sunglasses up, snap your gum and shove your hands in the pockets of your jean shorts. Frosty.

“Looking for Robin,” you say curtly, shrugging a bit, “Is she around? She called -- we’re catching a movie after her shift.”

Steve deflates a bit. No invite. Understandable, but ouch. “Uh, yeah, she’s out back with Keith organizing the rental returns.”

You pull a face. 

Steve sees it. He narrows his eyes, lips upturning a bit in curiosity. The expression on your face isn’t so frosty as you toe the carpet with your skate shoes and eye the display of comedies. 

“What?”

“Hm?” you blink back at him, eyes wide, “What?”

“That look,” he says, leaning forward onto his elbows, “What was that for?”

It takes you a second to realize that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is trying to make conversation with you. He’s really trying. 

You push your sunglasses back over your hair and move to eye around him. When you speak, it’s quiet.

“Y’know. Keith.”

Steve’s brows raise and he blinks fast. “Oh, yeah, yeah, he’s -- uh...”

He pulls his bottom lip in and waves a hand, searching for the words. 

(They’re evading him because he’s seriously not looking to make himself look like more of an asshole.)

“Creepy?” you offer, turning over a copy of Revenge of the Nerds, “Mad creepy. I’m sure Robin is, like, two seconds from emptying a can of pepper spray in his face.”

“Does she carry pepper spray?”

You shrug. “It’s Robin --”

“-- Yeah, good point.”

“I mean, she could carry a taser --”

“-- And I wouldn’t ask a single question.”

... It’s not weird. Whatever this is isn’t weird.

The laugh you both share is short and quiet but it’s genuine and before the moment can bleed into something like non-verbal peace treaty between warring high school personalities, the girl in question bursts from the back with a big ol’ smile.

“Would y’ look at that!” she claps, “My two best friends! Talking!”

You toss her a wide grin, dropping your sunglasses back down to your nose and as she glides over the counter and leaps into the same handshake you’ve shared since the seventh grade. 

Steve watches with a lopsided smirk. Goofballs. It’s cute.

“You ready for Phenomena?” Robin asks, waving her fingers and cooing like a ghost, “OooOOOooh! Bugs! Psychic powers! Horror!”

“Uh, try drive-in popcorn!” you snort, swatting her hands away, “Took you long enough. I’m starving.”

“You guys are seeing Phenomena?” Steve asks, drumming his fingers on the counter, “I heard it’s good --”

A light bulb bursts above Robin Buckley’s head and you swear you saw it, it was that bright.

“Steve!”

“Robin!” he says with a faux amount of excitement.

“Y-You should come!”

You blink.

Steve blinks at you.

Then at Robin.

Guilt flies across his face. He realizes he’s making you uncomfortable. From the way you tense up and look at Robin, he can tell you’re totally not into that idea.

So, he sputters.

“Uh... I dunno, Rob, I gotta close --”

You decide, in that moment, that Steve Harrington has changed and sure it’s weird but... you’re weird, too. And maybe he wasn’t so... terrible. I mean, he was still stupidly good looking -- and that’s why you’re so tense. Because the one thing you’d believed for all those years is being flipped upside down and you’re about to willingly spending time with The Steve Harrington.

“Why not?” you ask slowly, surprising everyone in the room, even yourself, “It’d be fun. Keith can close up.”

Steve jaw drops. “... Wait, seriously?”

Robin’s whole face lights up.

She blinks between you both. 

You’re glad your sunglasses are on. You try to stay frosty. Can’t let the cool-kid know you have feelings.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep your tone even, “I mean -- if you’re gonna launch a spitball at the back of my head during it, don’t even bother, but...”

Steve’s face falls.

You see the real guilt there. It shocks you.

“Listen,” he raises his hands, “I was a dick --”

Robin quirks a brow. “A mega-dick, Harrington.”

“Right, a mega-dick. You... You don’t have to invite me. It’s cool. I get it. I’m, uh...” his words falter off, lost as he drops his gaze and pulls his lips tightly together, “I get it.”

There’s a pause.

And then you sigh. 

“Stop looking like a kicked puppy and just get into my car, Steve.”

Brown eyes light up so bright it’s like you’re smiling at the sun.

“Seriously?”

You start for the door with a grin. “Did I stutter?”

Robin peels into victorious laughter as Steve scrambles faster than light, hucking his vest across the room and leaping over the counter -- he’s grinning as he does, pushing you and Robin out the door before Keith can protest from the back room.

You all pile into your Hatchback and the laughter that’s shared isn’t forced.

For the first time in a week, Steve Harrington hasn’t felt so weird. 

For the first time in years, you’ve felt like you’ve peaked.