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tonycries · 11 months ago

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Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.”

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right?

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious.

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement.

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji.

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and-

And then he’s pulling away.

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing.

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.”

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice.

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji.

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave.

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress.

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him.

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue.

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked.

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears.

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance.

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat.

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess.

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip!

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.”

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you.

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy.

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight.

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going. “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin.

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more.

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you.

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel.

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him.

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.”

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad.

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt.

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you-

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust.

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words.

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet.

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars.

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth.

And that answers his question.

Messy and desperate.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well.

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed.

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all.

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.”

---

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter.

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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inkskinned · 1 year ago

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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.

what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.

life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.

we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.

recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.

business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.

it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.

but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.

this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.

bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.

but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #i have a good job please shut the fuck up before telling me to get a better job #girl i have vision and dental.#if u blame the victim that's wild. do u know about economic systems

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rooksamoris · 8 months ago

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💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,”

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

#💖 — amoris writes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #crewel x reader #twst

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good-darks · 2 months ago

Text

BUBBLES

Poppy Playtime e Circus and dog play

Finally the instagram / X for 1k followers DTIYS

There is TYSM guys I'm really love this drawing and winners

Rules

Not Allowed

NO NSFW

NO TRACING

NO AI

Tag : good.darks

DEADLINE : March 8

The rules are you like this drawing.

#poppy playtime #Circus and dog play #smiling critters #nightmare critters #drawing #draw this in your style #dtiys #Water glow #Bubbles #oc #artists

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savanir · 5 days ago

Text

It was meant to be a nice day, visit the current location of the circus, meet up with some acquaintances, play with the puppies of the acrobatic dogs act.

Just don't think about the bat stuff for a while. Dick had let the tension slip out of his shoulders.

Rookie mistake.

Now here he is, fighting with a weird new primarily black with some white Amazo like robot who for some reason targets ghosts?

Dick was just having a nice little talk with his old friend Boston when this thing came out of nowhere.

And seriously, it's really hard to protect someone you can't see but the enemy very obviously can. Thankfully the thing seems to be programed to target ghosts and only ghosts. And it seems very averse to Dick's escrima sticks.

Dick has already contacted Barbara and she's trying to figure out what the acronym G.I.W. that's stamped on the robot stands for.

Trying to reason with it by, for example mentioning that Deadman is with the league, simply leads to the thing rattling off a bunch of anti ghost laws. Why are there anti ghost laws?!

Backup should arrive soon though, it turns out that Tim has already stolen a batjet earlier that day and is now on his way after checking an old young justice member.

Over the comms they talk,

"Nightwing, I think you and I have the same target"

"Yes I would hope so!?"

"No, I mean, I think that robot attacked my old teammate first, but she's not a ghost anymore so it left again without doing much"

"... who is out here with a grudge against already dead people? I thought this was just targeted against Deadman!"

Oracle pops up, "sorry to disappoint boys, it's a whole thing apparently, an offshoot of the global occult coalition"

Twin groans are heard over the line with one being cut off as Nightwing has to dodge a piece of circus tent getting thrown in his general direction.

Though the relaxing day off is ruined there is a part in Dick that's a little excited to shut this thing down and take it apart back in the cave, this is shaping up to be a somewhat fun mystery for once.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #batman #dick grayson #Nightwing #the giw made Phantom into their personal ghost attack robot #After they put his core into their custom amazo #once the bats starts messing with the programming things might get interesting

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decojellyfish · 1 month ago

Note

First. I love your work! Just the whole writing and stuff is so AAAAAAAA wonderful.

Second. Idk if its a gonna be a bother or something but i reread the Bonbon fanfic and thought if you could do a part 2. With the idea of because ghost is already a rescue price then brings another rescue home like gaz or soap.

I HOPE IM NOT BOTHERING YOU IM SORRYYYY

You're not a bother at all! In fact, I should be apologizing to you for taking so long with this! I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy! This is the official part 2 of Bonbon! (Go give it a read if you're interested :))

------

Boom! Boom!

Hybrid AU! TF141 (Retired) Guard Dog! Ghost x (Retired) Fight Dog! Soap x Kitten! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as 'you' !!No Romance Towards Reader For Obvious Purposes!!

SFW ~ Fluff

Warnings: Occasional swearing? There’s barely any

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Cute Circus - Twintail Tsundere" 0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

───♡───────────── Beginning It had been a year since you’d been adopted by Price and a few things have changed.

First of all, you had forgotten what it felt like to be starving or what you smelled like when they’d first found you. Bubble baths were a routine part of your week, and you loved playing with your toys and scratching posts. Sometimes, when you’d be mad, you would take it out on your scratching post, or if you were feeling rebellious, you would commit the cardinal sin of doing it on the couch. But you also loved snuggling. Whether it was Price or Ghost, you loved curling up on their lap under a blanket with one of your toys. Sometimes it would be the only thing that would get you to fall asleep.

Price enjoyed the extra company and finally had someone to accompany Ghost while he was gone. Price had never really taken on a father role in his life until you came into the picture. At points, he felt like the best father figure anyone could ask for; other times, he wondered if he knew anything at all about parenting. Sometimes, he felt like he was being too mean to you, snuggling with you after a small quarrel as an act of both apologizing and forgiving.

Ghost, on the other hand, felt as if you weren’t disciplined enough. He felt like you were a little brat, getting into trouble all the time with the blame usually falling on Ghost’s shoulders. You were a little angel in Price’s eyes, only to turn around and kick Ghost out of his usual spots around the house, running it like you owned the place. But only he was allowed to be your bully. Any time you, him, and Price were out and another hybrid tried to get smart with you, a kitten, Price would have to physically hold Ghost back as he barked up a storm about how he was gonna turn them into fish food by drowning them.

But all in all, things were nice.

Then came along the mutt from the forest.

You had been playing in the yard for about an hour, Ghost was supervising you to make sure you didn’t run off into the woods. He was bored, but still kept his ears perked for any sign of danger… which he quickly caught a whiff of. He stood up from his seated position in the grass and made his way over to where the mouth of the forest began.

There was a small forest that resided in the backyard of Price’s neighborhood. You were only ever allowed to go in there under the supervision of both Ghost and Price. So when you saw Ghost slowly venturing out into the woods, you knew something was up. Your little ears perked up, your fluffy tail swishing with childlike curiosity.

So naturally, as the little kitten you were, you did the sensible thing.

You silently followed behind Ghost, not alerting him of your presence. He was too focused on finding the danger and keeping it from coming any closer to his family.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ghost was following a certain scent, it seemed to belong to a burly one, built similarly to him. They smelled sweaty, musky, and… scared? No, angry. No, scared? A mix of both? It was a marbled mess of both emotions.

His ears twitched in one direction, sensing a rapidly approaching figure. He quickly turned his body to face the figure head-on, ready to attack. His guard dog instincts kicked in with a small snarl as he eyed the violent dog approaching. That’s when a little thing caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

It was you!

What the hell were you doing here?! How did you follow him so silently?? Probably because you were a cat, but that’s beside the point. He looked at your tiny form with wide eyes, “What are you doing here?! Get back to the house! Now-!” He was cut off when he suddenly got tackled.

The two bulky figures collided, rolling and flying across the rough ground, causing you to yelp in alarm.

Ghost let out a growl, grabbing the figure by their shoulders and forcing them away, ready to bark their arse off before something made him stop. His eyes were wide and his mouth awkwardly hanging open. The figure, another dog-hybrid, had also stopped and was now catching his breath as he stared down at Ghost with a similar expression.

It was silent for a few moments, just the two canines panting for air with their bewildered expressions. The mysterious pup was first to break the silence.

“Ghost?”

“Soap?” Ghost replied, just as astonished as Soap was.

“Ghost!” Soap rejoiced, pulling his brother from another mother close into a hug. “Oi, where’ve ya been?? How’s retirement goin’???” He had a giant smile on his face, his tail wagging so much that it was causing his hips to move side to side as well slightly.

“Eh, it’s been good. Eventful. Why the hell are you all roughed up? They kick you out or somethin’?” “Uhh, it’s complicated.” Soap chuckled. “Let’s jus’ say, I got roped into underground fightin’ and now I’m also retired.” He laughed a little more while Ghost looked at him slightly confusedly.

“Oh, hey! No mask!” Soap pointed out, now holding Ghost’s head and examining his face. “Aye, I knew you were a blondie!” “Yes, Soap, being retired means there’s no need to hide my identity.” Ghost sighed as he was forcefully examined by his old friend.

Soap smiled from dog-ear to dog-ear as he finally got to see the face of his good friend, looking at each scar, wrinkle, and bump his face had to offer. “You’re quite the looker, Ghost.” He smirked before he was abruptly attacked by a little thing.

You meowed and hissed as you latched onto the weird man who decided to attack the man who was like a big brother in your eyes. Your claws were tiny, but you spent a fair amount of time with your scratching posts so you knew how to hook them in. The man yowled and reached back, quickly plucking you off of him as his chipped ears pinned to the back of his head.

You kept hissing and scratching the air in his direction while he and Ghost looked at each other, Soap was obviously more confused while Ghost was trying to hold back a chuckle. “Who the hell is this??” “Uh… they’re with me, Soap.”

Soap looked at his best friend with eyes as wide and big as saucers, “...you had a kid?!” He looked at you again before looking back down, “...with a cat?!”

Ghost just had to stifle his chuckles, his head slightly shaking back and forth. He had to contain his laughter before finally telling Soap the whole story about you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had finally returned home after a long, tiring shift at work. With a soft thud, he set his bag down near the front door and took his coat off.

“I’m home!” He called out, his gravelly voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. His eyes perked up at the muffled sound of you playing outside, with Ghost he assumed. Your happy giggles and squeals, an occasional shriek of surprise followed by more laughter. It made him smile knowing you were getting proper time outside despite the temperatures gradually decreasing as autumn approached.

Walking to the back door, Price opened it expecting to see two hybrids playing in the backyard but was surprised when he saw three, even after trying to recount them to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind. For a moment Price thought it was a feral hybrid who had planned on attacking his family, but realized you weren’t in any danger while Ghost was still supervising.

You were playing with the feral hybrid, and he was playing with you. He would chase you, you would chase him, ride on his back while he ran around, and laugh as he put on a show for you as he chased his tail in rapid, small circles. Still, Price was your father (in a sense) so he had to step in.

“Ghost,” he shouted at the blonde pup, “What’s all this?” Ghost looked over at the old man, offering a reassuring smirk. “Just an old work buddy, or friend. Can we keep ‘im?” He chided, his tail slightly wagging. Price only sighed, already knowing there was only one correct answer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

So now, this is your current life. Ghost watching as you and Soap play around in the living room, lazily attempting to play with you on the couch, and Price shouting from the kitchen, as he’s making dinner, to be careful and not knock anything over.

Soap would always get this guilty look on his face when he was told this, knowing he was the culprit behind the murder of a few innocent standing vases and decor.

You loved playing with him, especially when he would play this game where he pretended you were a bomb that he had to drop (safely onto the couch, of course). He would do a dramatic countdown, “3…2…1!” and then plop you right onto the couch cushion then the two of you would chant, “Boom! Boom!”

Then, he would tickle you relentlessly until Ghost barked at him to stop because he didn’t like your little giggle-shriek sounds. Soap would stop, then make Ghost his next target by scratching behind his scarred ears. This caused Ghost to kick one of his legs uncontrollably, making you giggle.

There were times when you didn’t like Soap as much. Sometimes, he would take a bit of food from your plate without you noticing, making you through a small hissyfit when he finally took a noticeable amount. Other times, he would bark at you to stop scratching at the armrests of the couch before gesturing to all the other scratching posts you had.

In return, you would give him… the silent treatment.

Which lasted about 5 or 10 minutes until you asked him to play with you, which he happily agreed to with a small chuckle.

But the most enjoyable part of your days now was in the evenings after dinner. When you’d be curled up between Price and Ghost, your head in Price’s lap as he kept a hand scratching your head, and Ghost keeping a hand on your back or belly (depending on which position you were resting in) as he felt the subtle rise and fall of your lungs as you drifted off.

Soap usually sat on the floor, his head close to yours, so your relaxed purrs went directly into his ear. This made his tail wag with a repetitive soft thumping. All of you were probably settled down for a movie of some sort or just stayed in the living room for a small chat. Not like you were paying any attention though, you were just there to fall asleep.

However, other times, Price would read you a bedtime story instead. With Ghost and Soap sitting by you for extra security as you fell asleep that way, still loudly purring and making biscuits out of your blankie.

They would all wait for your purrs to fade out and biscuits to slow to an eventual stop, signaling that you had fallen asleep, and now was the tricky part of tiptoeing away from your little cat bed without waking you up.

Once they were successful, they would close the door, leaving it open with a small crack to allow a little light to pour in. They all snuck one last peek at you before leaving with a content sigh or grunt.

They loved how you took them on all sorts of adventures with occasional mischief.

They loved their lives

And they loved you. ───♡───────────── End

I hope you enjoyed it, everypony!! Thank you all so much for your patience. Feel free to leave a request! (I make no promises they'll be finished quickly though ;0; I still need to go to college and make art lol) ------ Taglist: @venavanup @draculauraspage @tf141gloryhole @obnoxiousbag @chanel-princess-world @ssc7514

If you would like to be added to the taglist so you can read my latest fics, let me know! Thank you :)

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sinnersweets · 1 year ago

Text

DogDay x Reader

part 2 ----->

A/N: My HC is that DogDay has an adult inside of him, unlike Catnap.

“Congragulations! Your application was chosen, and you are now part of the Playtime Co family! Please review all the following information provided in this email.” was all that was said in a recent email I had gotten. Finally, after weeks of job hunting, I heard back from someone, and it only took them a day to respond! I briefly skimmed through the email, knowing it was just boring company policies. At the very bottom it said that my first day was tomorrow. Wow, they sure do not waste time. I set an alarm and went to bed early, excited about my new job.

----------------

When I applied, I put down that I did not mind working anywhere in the factory so imagine how surprised I was when I showed up, they told me I would be working down below in a room called ‘Playcare.’ In fact, it was highly requested that I was to be stationed there. They told me it’s where they house orphans. It’s fascinating that a factory that builds toys for kids has its own orphanage here, right in the factory! I was given a uniform to change into and the uniform was honestly quite cute! The shirt was a golden-brown color that smelled like vanilla, I was given a nametag with a sun pin attached and... a headband with dog ears the same color. I didn’t think much of it and just went to change before heading off to Playcare.

---------------

I stared in awe as I looked down below at Playcare. This place was huge! I still could not believe that little kids lived here. I looked around at all the buildings. There was a school, a circus tent, a few more buildings and right up top was where all the orphans lived. Seeing all of this gave me the vibe of that one anime called ‘The Promised Neverland’ but I soon laughed at the thought. Kids do not die here, no demons feed on their brains, they get adopted. Adopted.

---------------

As I exited the cable car, I was instructed to meet my boss inside of the Playhouse. While walking to the playhouse some kids would run up to me and call me ‘girl DogDay’ whatever that meant. I just smiled and waved at them before entering the Playhouse. I was not given a name for who my boss was but was just told that they would know what I looked like and would spot me. Lots of kids were in this area. All screaming and chasing each other. One of them grabbed my hand and said, “Hurry we have to hide before he finds us!” I had no time to protest as I was led behind some foam building blocks. “Um, who exactly are we hiding from?” I whispered back to the kid, might as well play along. “Shh. He has good hearing.” was all that the kid said before peeking over the blocks we were hiding at.

---------------

Two minutes went by before we both heard some footsteps approaching. “He’s coming! Run!” and then the kid ran into a slide and started to climb up. I laughed at the kids' action and started to get up before I felt breathing coming from above me. I slowly lifted my head up and was shocked to see a giant dog hovering above me. “Hiya Angel!” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything, I was in shock. This enormous dog that looks like a plushy is speaking to me. “I found you which means now you get to help out with catching everyone!” The dogs tailed wagged. I stood up and got a good look at this...dog thing. He was tall, around 8 ft. He had a pendant in the shape of a sun, and he smelled like vanilla. Oh, that’s what the kids meant earlier by ‘girl DogDay,’ this is DogDay. “Come on Angel, I know if we work together, we can find all the kids before time is up” and then DogDay ran on all fours like an actual dog, in search of the other kids.

---------------

I think it was safe to say that DogDay found the rest of the kids while I just knew of the one that was with me before was hiding at. As we made our way back to the entrance, I noticed the kids laughing and trying to climb onto DogDay. Maybe he’s been with them forever and that’s why they don’t seem terrified by a dog that stands 8 ft tall. DogDay looked over and saw me and the last kid approaching and waved at us. The other kids stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction. In unison they all screamed “Girl DogDay is here!” I smiled sheepishly and waved at them. “Hi there....” Did these kids know about me? DogDay then put down some kids that he was holding and walked over to me. “Sorry about that Angel, I told them that I was getting a helper the other day and they have been wanting to see you.” “Oh, that’s fine. Hey um DogDay was it? Do you happen to know who my boss is by chance? I was told to meet them in here.” The kids behind Dogday started giggling. “You’re looking at him Angel!”

Huh? He’s joking right? This dog looking mascot is my boss?! DogDay then picked me up and hugged me tight. “We’re going to have so much fun working together Angel.” I could hear his tail wagging back in forth. He put me down and led me to the rest of the kids. “Kids, we have a new face joining us today. Why don’t you introduce yourself to us Angel.” I suddenly felt nervous. All these little eyes staring at me so excitedly. “O-okay, um well hi, my name is Angel- wait no” the kids started laughing. That wasn’t my name but hearing DogDay call me that this whole time just slipped out. DogDay was even laughing. I blushed in embarrassment. I cleared my throat and continued. “My name is Y/N, but I guess you could also call me Angel. I like to read, draw, um I guess sing, but I haven’t done it in a while. Umm, I’m 20 years old and my birthday is on November 14th and that’s pretty much it I think.”

DogDay clapped and soon the other kids followed his lead. “Well put Angel, now it’s my turn, though I think I’ll let the kids introduce me.” All at once the kids started yelling over each other to tell me about him. “He’s the leader of the Smiling Critters!” “He smells like vanilla!” “Super strong!” “DOGDAY CALLED YOU PRETTY!!” “Okay! Thank you, Damian, no need to shout now friend.” The shift in DogDays attitude changed, he was the one that seemed nervous now. The kid that was hiding with me was named Damian. Dogday then cleared his throat. “Let’s all go outside and wait for KickenChicken now alright?” The kids yelled in delight and pushed their way out of the Playhouse.

It was now just me and DogDay. “So, um I’m guessing you picked me to work here?” I tried breaking the awkward silence between us. I decided to not bring up the fact that he called me pretty, too awkward right now. DogDay then seemed to snap back into his cheery self. “Yep! I looked through a lot of applicants, but yours stood out to me.” It’s amazing that a toy factory lets a toy pick out an employer. DogDay then grabbed my hand and led me outside. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place Angel.” I smiled and went along with him. I could see myself liking it here.

A/N: part 2 anyone?

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #x reader #dogday x reader

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naffeclipse · 6 months ago

Text

Forget-me-not

Reader x Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Thank you for @robinette-green for the lovely request! I adored writing this and making the boys so sweet to the reader! The reader is a clockwork animatronic who's trapped in an abandoned circus, and Sun and Moon step foot onto the forgotten ground and find someone in need of their help.

———

You watch another golden glow creep into oblivion upon the abandoned carnival and its sad, lonely inhabitants. The sun withdraws soundlessly like a stranger passing by. The Freak Show sign slumps, depressed. The once golden and galloping horses in the carousel have rusted into cruel, dark hues and no longer stamp or throw their wild manes back while children ride their once beautiful, gleaming saddles. The big tent—it hasn’t been big in years. It lies in sore tatters, wet from yesterday’s rainstorm with poles sticking up high and stringing along broken bulbs of once bright, yellow lights illuminating the darkness, promising fun to the humans who stepped onto the fairgrounds.

You hate the darkness. You hate it more than being bolted down in place and left to host a game of ring toss no one has played in years. Your right arm is still extended in invitation over the green and brown bottles. The carnival owner couldn’t even allow you both of your arms, pinning your stance into place with bolts and leaving only your left hand to occasionally wave and flutter to catch the attendee’s eyes.

After all the trouble he went to steal you away from your creator, you thought he would at least have taken you with him when the bright, colorful lights and happy, bouncing music came to a halt.

The soft words of your creator ring distantly, like a voice calling out through fog. You are—were his most beautiful creation. He whispered the words to you while he painted your lips red and bid you to take a look in the mirror.

You agreed. You were so, so pretty.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t know what you look like anymore. You don’t want to look upon how rusted your clockwork inner workings have become. Your once pale and milky porcelain skin might be gray and slushy as the dirt along the pathways guests took, and that is not something you wish to know. There’s no doubt your red lips and silky red hair have been forsaken to the elements. You fear you are ruined.

You are now worthy of abandonment.

In the darkness, you truly are forgotten. A hitch within your clockwork chassis catches and grinds before continuing, but the scraping pain remains.

Your attention is drawn back to the front entrance, a good distance away from you. Half crumbled with support beats cutting over the access in an ‘X’ shape, like a warning to not trespass this decrepit lot, shadows slink over the splintered and rotted wood. Long, lanky umbras move with a silence that is so strange and careful.

You squint your eyes. The urge to tilt your head slightly to peer better at the disturbance is cut short by the bolt in your neck, refusing to let your head tilt save from a slight side to side to give an enthralling smile.

You shouldn’t get too excited. It’s likely mere animals. A pair of raccoons or a stray dog who has lost its owner. Once, you watched a doe deer step softly through the wretched ruins, big wet eyes turning to you for one moment before the blurt of your automated voice lines jumped from your throat and sent the creature bounding away.

Nothing is yours here, not even the moment of daydreaming of you prancing out of this forsaken carnival like a doe deer. Free.

The shadows mingle into the dusky darkness. The blue-gray twilight reveals figures, and your mechanical heart chokes.

Two personages creep along the path winding from the entranceway. The same path leading directly towards the ring toss game; towards you. One dons a thick hood and cape, dark blue like midnight. The other’s head is sharper and unconcealed. A crown of jutting points frame the figure’s disk-like face, and a thick deep brown shawl gathers at his throat and falls down his chest and arms.

As they pass into a silvery slant of budding starlight, metal glints on the crowned one’s face and the other hooded person’s hands spray out while scanning the darkness for threats, silver digits curling and uncurling.

Two automatons. Like you. But not.

A whirl in your servos thrums a loud, exhausted sound, and you stiffen—as much as you can while bolted in place.

What could two automatons want with an abandoned circus? You were never familiar with the world outside of your creator’s home before you were smuggled out against your will by the circus owner, but at the circus, you learned much.

You learned of scavengers and automatons gaining their rights. You always wonder if that’s partly the reason you were left here to rot too—are you too human now to own but robotic enough to be neglected?

They could spy on you in the darkness and decide to strip you for parts. Your clockwork clanks heavily within you like a clapper within a bell, beating against your brass heart. Can they hear it? You have to stop. Be quiet.

The two automatons prowl forward. Their optics and audio processors strain not unlike hounds searching for a fox. What do they prey upon? The crowned one gestures towards the carousel, the ride well within distance to your ring toss game, and you must clench your jaw tightly to keep from whimpering. The hooded one dips his head but keeps moving forward. Your gears crank in jarring motions, jolting and jerking while you hope they take the parts they desire from the circus and leave.

The hooded one continues down the path. Your chassis tightens, and your fingers tremble in place while you keep your eyes averted, held above the automaton’s head but keeping him in the unfocused corners of your optics.

Please. Please, don’t. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Step right up and toss a ring to win a prize!” The words blurt from your mouth and startle all the ruins and everyone within.

Two pairs of glowing eyes fall upon you. Straightening and alerted, the shrouded automatons stare into your fluttering eyelids as you attempt to beg them to leave you alone. A spark burns in your throat. Your voice lines refuse to give.

One stops and reaches silver and blue digits up and lowers the hood slowly. A face gazes at you, scarlet eyes glowing in the darkness with a face like a crescent moon. A blue nightcap, slightly frayed and worn, and decorated in yellow stars, covers his circular faceplate.

The other steps closer with a curious tilt of the sharp points framing the automation’s head, and enters the last of the blue-gray darkness before night completely takes over. A yellow face, grinning with round cheeks, observes you. Pale optics beam.

“Hello, friend,” he speaks, voice bouncing low but with intrigue. “Why don’t you come on out? It’s alright, don’t be afraid.”

Your optics dart side to side. Helplessness settles over you, pinned in place by rusty, dark shame.

“Do you need help?” The one with the pale yellow sun rays steps closer, his eyes narrowing in the slightest. “Are you stuck?”

The moon-face automaton slips closer. The glow of his gaze sweeps over the game you’re bolted in front of, and he fixates on your right arm stiffly held out in invitation as your fingers curl and clench. You glance down at him, wondering if your eyes plead in the way your mouth cannot.

Biting your bottom lip does not prevent another voice line from bursting forth, and inwardly, you crumple.

“Try your hand! One ring around the neck of a bottle wins a prize!”

“Not stuck,” the lunar automaton turns to his accomplice. His cloak shifts like shadows under the arc of the moon. “Trapped.”

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let us help.” The sunny one steps forward, his hands raised as if to pacify a wild creature. “And, if I may be so bold, your voice box sounds like it’s not your own.”

You wish to nod but only succeed in cranking your head halfway to the right, as if in a gesture towards your hapless situation.

You wonder if they can see the ugly, rusty bolts pinning your body in place, holding you shackled to the ring toss game. They must, for the lunar face man slips closer, stooping down by your feet behind the barrier as he inspects the heavy metal securing you in place. The solar gentleman energetically leaps over the barrier and stops right beside you, hand on his hips. His shawl drapes darkly around him but his grin is bright like a new dawn.

You don’t dare hope. The niceness will fall away like a curtain to reveal the snarling, roaring beast behind it. They will strip you for parts or worse, mock you, revel in your helplessness, and slip back through the night, leaving you with only the daydream of a rescue.

Facing the sunny one, you hold your metaphorical breath as he pauses. He stares deeply into your optics. You stare back into the foggy gray irises he possesses, like a cool, misty fog gathering in the night only to be touched by the sun’s first rays of light.

“Your eyes are beautiful—the same color as forget-me-nots.” The sunny automaton smiles.

Your servos slow to a calm hum.

“Come on,” he says and carefully reaches for your neck to begin unscrewing the bolt stuck in your throat, “You won’t be left to rust here anymore, starlight.”

Your insides melt, touched by their generosity.

Below, at your feet, the dark blue and silver automaton begins to unscrew the bolts holding your feet down. Rust scrapes away and a harsh squeak of metal echoes. You grunt, jostled but, strangely, you hold to hope like a feathered, tiny thing in your hands, hoping to watch it fly again.

“We can fix your voice box,” the lunar one speaks in a slight rasp you find endearing. His gaze remains focused on setting you free. “We have a shop. We repair things sometimes.”

“That’s right,” the solar one chimes in, “We scavenge as well. Don’t worry, we’ve repaired a few automatons or two. You can trust us.”

When he pries the bolt from your neck, you can dip your head in acknowledgment. A strange sensation burns through your wires, heating you from the inside out. Emotion. You wish you could ask for their names.

“You look very delicate.” The one at your feet finally frees one of your porcelain slippers with a slow, cautious tug. “We’ll be gentle.”

He tilts his head upwards and flashes a grin. You find yourself warming in the face. Is he being a tease or does he not know how he sounds? By the mischievous glint in your eyes, you fear he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You try to pry your lips apart to find the right words, but all that leaves you is “Enjoy lots of fun! For a small price, of course!”

The automaton of yellow and gray hues glances briefly at you, tilting his heading in confusion while he begins to loosen the bolt stabbed into your right elbow. Holding his gaze, you speak with your eyes, almost pleading.

What are your names?

A spark of understanding answers in his pale optics, and he gasps.

“Moon, where are our manners? I’m so sorry, starlight! My name is Sun, and this is Moon.”

You dip your head again, bobbing up and down in excitement. You know their names. You haven’t learned anything new about anyone in so long…

When they free you from the ring toss game, you can hardly believe how the muddy path now leads you to the outside of the circus as Sun holds you gently in his grasp, how their strides are sure-footed and smooth, and how they look at you with concern.

You vow silently to speak their names the moment your voice is free too.

You haven’t seen anything outside of the carnival in so long, you’ve almost forgotten the sight of dark, shiny paved streets and the lone lamp posts that light the way. Gray and dreary buildings line the streets. One, however, is cheerfully plastered in wooden stars painted bright yellow, and the door is a soft, sky blue with white fluffy clouds along the very top.

Sun and Moon take turns carrying you. Their hands are careful, cradling you close against their cloak and shawl while murmuring that it’s alright. You’re safe. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. Moon cradles you in his arms now as Sun unlocks the door, and holds it open so you can be carried over the threshold.

For an odd reason, it triggers your faceplate to heat up more than the colored rouge on the porcelain should allow.

Through the door, the interior of the workshop is set with tools ranging from smallest to biggest, shelves containing boxes marked, and small containers with different, shiny nuts and bolts. There are even some small containers with shiny, bronze gears. You haven’t seen a spotless floor in so long. There were always leaves and mud staining the path serpentining through the carnival.

A table, coppery under a work lamp, awaits.

“I’m setting you here,” Moon murmurs close to your audio processor before he lays you softly down with a gentle click of your frame against the metal.

“I worry about how long you were left there.” Sun loses the shawl and locates a brown leather apron. Tools line the pockets as he swiftly ties it behind his back. His eyes are creased though he still smiles reassuringly. “By the amount of rust, I would guess years. For your sake, I hope I’m wrong.”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. What comes out instead is a showy voice declaring “Whoever can ring three bottles wins the ultimate prize!”

A whirl in your servos practically screams out your embarrassment. You lower your gaze. The stiffness in your joints is almost as unbearable as the voice lines the circus owner forced upon you.

“Shush,” Moon says, his cloak falling away as he snags an apron similar to Sun’s off of a hook. “Wait for a moment, pretty thing, then you may have your words back.”

“That’s right,” Sun nods and shifts to stand close beside you. He grows still for a moment, his bright disposition falling behind a somber cloud. “We’re very lucky to have found you.”

You smile—not the forced, showy smile that has been plastered on your face while you lie in the ruins, but a true smile for the ones who rescued you.

Moon moves to the other side of the table. His hands, now gloved in black leather, hesitate.

“We will open you up now.” The automaton turns flush along the spindle support of his neck. “Is that alright? It’s the only way we can fix your voice box.”

Sun leans forward, his smile still cheery while he modestly averts his eyes, “As well any other damage done from being exposed and negligent for… however long you were out there.”

You never thought the solar automaton could be shy, and yet.

You nod your head as it rests on the table. You feel safe, so much more so than when you were bolted in place. The circus owner did not ask you what you wanted then.

Moon and Sun move in tandem. It’s strange and beautiful, how effortlessly they weave their fingers to begin work. Sun unlocks your chassis and Moon gently lifts it open. You throw your gaze to the ceiling. You don’t want to know. You know they will find it horrible and awful, but you don’t want to see it and have it seared into your mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Moon utters.

You blink, as breathless as a machine can become.

“Your clockwork—is very beautiful,” a slight stumble from his raspy voice seals your fate. You say nothing. You press your lips together and wonder if you might overheat right here and now.

“You are pretty,” Sun continues effortlessly, though there’s a slight trill to his voice that may give away his nervousness or bashfulness, you can’t decide. “Clockwork automatons are rare.”

The circus owner made mention of that.

You close your eyes as Sun and Moon narrate their every movement. Hands held down by your sides, you only occasionally shift or softly buzz as they clean and fix your voice box nestled within the bottom of your throat. They are so gentle. You never knew hands could be so kind, even if they are rummaging through your inner workings.

Could they possibly let you stay?

The absurd thought enters your processor and you almost immediately shove it into a box and bury it deep into cold, black soil.

“You’re doing so good.” Sun grins as he looks down into your chassis. “There. That should do it. Moon?”

“I’m done.”

Slowly, carefully, as if finishing a sacred rite, the two close up your chassis and tighten it back into place. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. A part of you wonders if you’ll only look out into the ruins of the circus again, and find this was all one blissful moment of a daydream.

“Can you say something, starlight?” Sun’s voice washes over you.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready,” Moon answers in a low sound of comfort.

It falls past your lips before you realize you are not ready, but you so terribly want to speak anyway.

“Thank you.” Your eyes flash open, and you gape—the echo. Your soft, demure tones no longer strained into shouting and calling attention.

It’s you.

Your hand touches your lips, and a sound between a laugh and a sob emerges from your voice box.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You look between the two of them, overwhelmed. With the overhead lamp now touching their features as they sit back, grinning, you get to admire their handsome features.

You two are very striking.

“Oh, my,” Sun chuckles, bleeding red in the cheeks, “Thank you!”

“You’re very sweet,” Moon murmurs, touching his nightcap with a slight bashfulness.

And you realize you spoke your thoughts out loud. You called them striking.

“Oh,” you begin to burn.

“It’s alright,” Moon says swiftly, interrupting your apology. “We would like to know what your plans are after this. Now that you’re free.”

“Free,” you whisper back. You clutch at your chest, over your clockwork heart, and marvel. “I…”

You have your voice back. Use it.

“I—if I may be so bold, may I ask to stay with you both? I won’t be a burden. I won’t stay longer than you will allow, and I—”

Sun sighs, dramatic and cheerful, as he finds your hand to hold it.

“I thought you would never ask, starlight!”

Moon’s hand slips under your anxious fingers. His nod echoes his solar counterpart’s enthusiasm. You turn your head between both of them, your lips parting in awe.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Sun. Moon. Thank you.”

#naff's writing commissions #some cute scavengers find you and rescue you from an abandoned circus wdyd?#loved writing this <3 #naff writing

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