#hope you like it 🤭

[f1amboyant]

You always taste so good

It’s not the first time you found yourself between that particular sandwich of werewolf and vampire Ferrari drivers. How they manage to turn you into this blushing mess every time is a mystery to you. Well. Not that much of a mystery actually. They are really good. Really really good. And no matter how many orgasms they squeeze out of you, you can never get used to it.

OR: Vampire!Charles and werewolf!Carlos have their way with you. You are not complaining.

charlos x you ~ explicit ~ 4,5k ~ threesome ~ vampire and werewolf

Read on AO3

Body still trembling from your most recent orgasm (not the first of the night and not the last either, you hope), you let Carlos wrap his big hairy arms around you and pull you toward his chest. You fall into his embrace with a satisfied sigh, your back to his torso. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck, lips wet with the remnant of your own orgasm over your sensitive skin, as you settle between his parted thighs. His arms tighten around your middle.

“You always taste so good, cariño,” he whispers in your ear, all smooth and hot.

You blush.

“Oh, stop it,” you protest feebly.

He rumbles a laugh into your neck, leaving ticklish kisses on your skin.

“Well, it’s true. Isn’t it, Charles?”

Charles crawls on the mattress right between your legs, opens them wider and lays down his head on your thigh. He smiles, revealing his glistening sharp fangs. His cool skin on your overheated leg feels like heaven (Carlos is so so warm behind you).

“Oh, she definitely tastes the best.”

You blush deeper. Your face must be so red right now (from your previous orgasm on Carlos’ tongue, from the piercing stare Charles is giving you right now), so so red you could be part of the Ferrari team. Gosh!

It’s not the first time you found yourself between that particular sandwich of werewolf and vampire Ferrari drivers. How they manage to turn you into this blushing mess every time is a mystery to you. Well. Not that much of a mystery actually. They are really good. Really really good. And no matter how many orgasms they squeeze out of you, you can never get used to it.

Anyway.

Charles drops a soft kiss on your thigh.

“Can I taste you too, now, amour?”

You nod fervently and feel, more than you hear, Carlos groan. Or maybe he is purring, who knows?

“Yes, please,” you say.

“Good. You’re so good to me, to us, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay?”

“Okay.”

Charles smiles again, all sharp fangs and cold lips for you. You shiver in anticipation.

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-> charlos x you masterlist -> navigation

[agalnamedlunasea]

Every nights a heartbreak..

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lil Emo AU Akira for James my best friend James @shslskaterboy 's birthday! Love you so so much bestie!❤💛

[oldtvserieslover]

hii

my favorite animal is a wolf do you think you could draw that

Hi! Thank you very much for your ask!

I love wolves too so I hope you like this sketch 👀🐺

I do have to say that I’m not very good at drawing felines and canines but it was a nice fun challenge!😄

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧ Fantasies in the dark - I

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader ✦ Summary: In which Arthur catches a glimpse of your intimacy, the vision driving him into madness until he finally decides to give in to his urges. ✦ Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Masturbation, nudity, voyeurism (reader not aware he's staring), self-depreciation, and lots of shame from this poor man. Arthur's pov. ✦ Words: 2,7k Arthur's pic is mine, others are from Pinterest. And as always, as English isn't my first language, prepare for some possible misspellings. Read on AO3

Part I - Part II

Lately, Arthur had a problem. An incessant, disturbing, haunting problem.

He couldn’t sleep at night.

This could have been related to the gang’s precarious situation, being hunted down by the Pinkertons and surrounded by enemy gangs, O’Driscolls and Lemoyne raiders everywhere. Or even because of some older wounds, the loss of Eliza and Isaac amongst others, reminded almost every day by the complicated family portrait John painted with Abigail and Jack. Or the hurtful thought of the life he never had with Mary that was always following him since he had seen her again near Valentine. Life doomed from the start by his inherent violence and the mountain of corpses he was responsible for.

Arthur had plenty of reasons not to sleep at night. But this wasn’t because of any of that.

He couldn’t sleep because of you. 

Not that it was your fault. In fact, you didn’t even know about any of that and Lord have mercy, he was praying that you’ll never find out; because he would never be able to look at you in the eyes then.

A few weeks ago, the gang had settled at Clemen’s Point. A rather pretty spot just near the lake, and not so far from town. But it wasn’t exactly the place that was causing him trouble. It was the unexpected view he was having from his tent.

For some unknown, mystical reasons, Miss Grimshaw while deciding the camp’s ajancement had decided to place your tent right next to his. Not so big of a problem at first sight, right?

Except that you were a night owl combined with the suffocating warmth of the place. Making you get to bed naked.

Oh, Arthur knew you do, because every night, every single one, you let a candle lit to read, or write, or God knows what before sleeping. The light casts your shadow against the tent’s canvas. The shadow of your very much nude body.

The first night Arthur had noticed, he had come back exhausted from a job in the middle of the night and laid on his cot without even taking the time to remove his boots or hat. A very usual and typical slice of his life, which lately felt more and more like a terribly used one. As if all these slices were repeating again and again. An accumulation of jobs and missions and robberies and fights; deceiving, lying, stealing, killing. Over and over again, going round and round. At night, he was reduced to a slumbered mind in a spent body, that was definitely becoming old and rusty. Already half asleep, mud and twigs surrounding his tired limbs, his thoughts all tangled up like a ball of wool, he had turned his head to his left, reaching from instinct for his pack of cigarettes on the little table next to his bed. Another slice of bad habits from a bad life.

That’s how his eyes had met with this quite erotic shape displayed on your tent.

Said eyes had grown so big that it had fully woken him up all of a sudden, as quickly as if someone had dumped a bucket of iced water on his shocked face. After half of a second of pure stabbing surprise and incomprehension with his hand hanged in the air, his breath stuck in his throat as if really being punched in the gut, he instantly turned his eyes back to the ceiling of his own tent. Cheeks burning red, heart pounding, as if someone had caught him in the act of doing a terribly shameful thing. Exactly as if he had really seen you naked.

He had feverishly grabbed the cigarette pack without looking at it, gaze refusing to turn again, these two blue diamonds locked on the ceiling of his tent, and had messily pulled one out of it, his shaky fingers fumbling, almost spilling everything on the ground.

He must have looked so damn ridiculous.

The smoke helped him to calm down, its soothing and comforting feeling spreading and burning through his lungs. He had fallen asleep, turned to the other side facing the wagon, trying not to think too much about the peek of your intimacy he had witnessed, telling himself it probably was going to be an isolated incident. 

But of course, of course the Lord had to torment him even in the rare moments of peace he could have enjoyed.

Turns out this was apparently a habit of yours. 

To be honest, he probably deserved to be tormented. But this was years from what he had in mind when it came to the Lord's punishment for his life of crimes.

And Arthur, even though a hardened man in many ways, able to lock lips during torture, kill men with bare hands, and stay emotionally strong in any kind of situation, was still only, after all, a man. A man with needs.

Filthy, disgusting needs.

He had tried to resist. Had tried not to let his eyes slip in your direction like that first night. Sometimes he would allow himself a quick glance, just to check if you were wearing any clothes for once, like a normal person. And maybe the night after would be different? Every evening spent at camp, his pupils would end up brushing the sinful silhouette in just a soft, slight sight, as if not to scare you, as if not to feel too bad about it.

But it was getting harder and harder not to stare. The easy lies about just checking on you or looking at anything else in the same area as your tent to have the chance of winning a glimpse of you would soon not be enough.

Just the mere fact that he knew you were completely bare, only a few meters away from him, singly the thin and superficial fabric of the tent between the both of you, was getting him hard and sweaty, and making his blood boil as a virgin teenage boy would. He could almost physically feel it, like a burning presence in his back when he was sleeping head against the wagon's wall.

The Human mind may be well designed for a lot of things; it forgets an event too hard to carry or can trick you into thinking you're not experiencing any physical pain in extreme situations. But Arthur had learned that it was extremely poorly made when it came to ignoring something. The more he was trying to not think about his unholy urges, the more he ended up being plagued with them. As sure as the seasons always turned in circles, you would come back to his effusive psyche.

And Oh, he was ashamed. Ashamed and revolted by himself. This was absolutely not in his habits, all the contrary. Yes, he was an old miserable bastard who had killed and plundered. But for God's sake, he had never acted obscene towards a lady before.

But the shame wasn't enough for him to stop. On the nights when the guilt was at its lowest —when the tediousness of his days was nibbling at his patience, he had let his eyes wander to your sinful figure, telling himself that maybe if he did, he could just go on with his night and finally rest. Just a quick taste, not too long.

But it only made things worse. It made him dream of you. 

Dream of you stripped, his imagination taking the lead of what the tent’s fabric was preventing him from seeing. Dream of you moaning, taking him so tightly, welcoming him in your warm body and into your arms. Dream of the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, of the sight of your naked body squirming with pleasure. He would now often wake up frustrated and angry, if he had succeeded in sleeping at all, his member hard and throbbing on its own, his heart beating powerfully in his chest as if it had been real. His pants and blanket had even been damped one or two times. 

What was he, a fifteen-year-old boy again? He was so angry and mortified by the physical obsession his body was having with you that he was constantly in a foul and fiery mood;  bitter with everyone, his tension leaking into every movement and every word he spoke. He started missing targets when shooting, getting even more reckless and hot-headed during jobs, jobs often ending up missed or taken care of negligently, yelling at people when they weren’t fast enough, or clever enough, or silent enough, breaking things, breaking rules. The lack of sleep was making his deadly efficiency fade away, replaced by sloppy and messy gestures, stopping enemies from falling dead at his feet like his lethal skills always did, castrating the only thing that was left of his masculinity.

And yet, he couldn’t stop watching you from afar during the time he was at camp, telling himself he knew, or at least had an idea, of what you looked like without these clothes on; feeling a twisted sensation of pride imagining he was the only one who did. On top of that, your sweet personality and beautiful face weren’t helping him at all with his addiction. Filthy old bastard, stop it- he had to mentally slap himself to prevent staring at you for too long, especially staring at your chest that this goddamn dress you had chosen to wear wasn’t covering at all; or your ass these goddamn pants were fitting way too well.

Tonight, Arthur is avoiding going to bed too early. He knows he would just lay in it waiting for you anyway. Instead, he goes for a walk along Flat Iron Lake’s shores, bringing his journal with him. Two entire pages are already dedicated to your shadow. He had no idea a picture exclusively made of black and white flats on a sheet could have such a powerful erotic effect. Or maybe he is a complete degenerate —which, he is sure, is more and more true.

He has to be honest with himself, he could just go to a hotel, or out of camp for a few days to sleep under the stars, and the matter would be settled.

But he doesn’t want to. Because deep down inside, his urges are winning, making him feel like the most foolish and weakest man alive. He enjoys watching you. He enjoys seeing those forbidden plumped curves cast on this canvas. He feels like you're not leaving him any mercy, pitiless, his days dictated by the wait for his taboo rendez-vous, his nights by your sensual apparitions in his dreams.

He is trapped, you have completely tamed him, and irony of it all, have absolutely no idea you are making him feel like this.

This woman is drivin' me insane.

After a few hours on the cold shore's sand, his fingers only capable of creating quick little sketches and scribbles, his feet lead him back to camp. What a surprise. He finds most of the gang's members already asleep, apart from the ones on guard duty and some late campfire enjoyers talking about life, about love, grief, the future, the past. He briefly nods at them without a word and walks to his private space. He already knows what’s waiting for him there, your tent looking like it’s still illuminated, his thoughts and body avid for it.

No, don’t be a fool, Morgan.

He sits down on his cot. Mumbles to himself orders and curses to try and stay reasonable. Takes off his hat, runs a hand through his hair, sticky with sweat and dirt from his busy day, as all the other ones, as always. Scratches his beard and his ears with a sniff, tells himself he needs to take a swim into that lake. That he’s as dirty on the inside as he’s on the outside. Pulls down his suspenders before stretching his shoulders, a pained groan escaping him. A cigarette joins his lips, a match lights it, and he breathes in slowly. He tries to calm down, focusing once again on this homey feeling it brings him. 

But his brows furrows. His lips tighten. He knows he won’t be able to hold on much longer. He needs to sleep properly. Even being the all-mighty Titan he is, he still needs a good night of sleep from time to time to keep the engine of his body turning, and you have kept it from him for days.

He lies to himself promising this is only for his health.

That this is the only way for him to stay focused during the day; the only way to rest properly and be at his best again tomorrow.

That this will be the only time he’ll do that.

His only moment of weakness. 

The still-lit cigarette and his good conscience fall to the ground as he lies on his cot, settled on his left side, his right hand already roaming on his lower belly. 

His eyes drop on the scene he had fantasized about for what seems like years to him at this point.

Lord have mercy…

Your shadow looks so perfect. He takes his sweet time to notice every detail of it, enjoying to the maximum his sinful behavior, now that he had succumbed to it. How you’re laying on your back, reading your book with your legs crossed. The curvaceous shape of your body looks divine to his insatiable gaze. Your hair messily tangled around your head. The silhouette of your chin and throat making him hungrier than any feast he could have attended. Your belly, rising and falling with your chest and breasts, gives the shadow an organic appearance. Your delicate legs, from the base of your thighs to your calves, to your feet, your toes mindlessly curling as you get lost in your story. And of course, the blurry outline of what was between them…

Damn it.

His hand quickly reaches his belt, unbuckles it,  fiddles with his pants, opens them carelessly in an urgent grip. He spits in his palm, lashes out at himself when the desire of it being your wetness instead crosses his mind, and slips it between the buttons of his union suit. It finally wraps around his desperate shaft, gorged with blood, and he wonders if he already had been this hard before.

The moment he feels the pressure of his own fingers around it, he can’t help but sigh deeply through his nose, and has to physically block the groan he was about to let out.

Make no noise, moron.

He bites his lips to stop any other immoral sound from crossing through his mouth. Last thing he needs right now is to get caught. He slowly rubs one languorous time from up to down, then up again, his fingers brushing his swollen head right where he needs to. He instantly knows he won’t last. He had dreamed about this, about you, both during days and nights. His eyes are locked on your tantalizing silhouette, this deiform delicious flesh. Goddess of the night, Queen of his desires.

His hand rubs once again and his muscles tighten. He starts to stroke in a rhythmic pace, his moves are efficient, messy, careless. He masturbates the same way he takes care of himself —quickly, roughly, as if matching his disgust towards his own self. The exact opposite of what he would do to you if he could. This is pure physical relief.

Yes, God, yes…

Your name turns in his mind between blasphemous curses as he pleasures himself, stroking faster and faster, delightful warm sensations spreading through him. Finally. The burning is no longer in his back or mind; it's right there around his erection, flames licking all around it.

He wants to be able to join you there, so badly. He wants to discover the tone of your bare skin in those places you never show to anyone. He wants to whisper sweet things in your ear and you to sigh back, your voice high and softly shaking from pleasure. He wants the lewd intimacy, the shared tension and the electric, exciting touch of two foreign skins discovering each other for the first time. He wants to see your hardening nipples he can only have a glimpse of through the fabric. 

He wants to have you, to take you, consume you, all to himself. He wants you to think about him the same way he is now, wants you to come while thinking of him, only him, your mouth to moan, whimper, scream even, all thanks to him. 

He wants your hand instead of his, around his cock right now, pressing harder, moving faster.

Yes, yes, jus’ a bit more darlin’… -

A movement from you, a real one, makes his pace slow down and his heart stops, afraid you might have by some sort of divine knowledge understood what was happening. But you’re just shifting in your bed, positioning yourself on your belly with your book open against your pillow, and Arthur’s balls spasm; he now has the most perfect view of your ass, its gorgeous, decadent round and plumped contour making his member twitch in his fist.

Ahh, shit… So god damn perfect… 

Pearls of sweat leak from his forehead to his neck. His ears shut close to the outside world, his surroundings completely disappearing. Now, there’s only you and your perfect back beautifully arched ending with your perfect bottom and him, and no one else’s on Earth. His breath is jerky, his entire face completely crimson, his fingers pumping so hard and fast he’s basically fucking his hand —your hand, with those wet and unmistakable noises filling the air.

His breath speeds up as Arthur feels his deliverance coming, blood rushing in his veins. He sees himself behind you grabbing fistfuls of your cheeks, he sees his erection diving deep between them. And it's the last straw. His brows are crunched in an exquisite expression of pure sexual delight, jaws so tensed he’s about to break his teeth, your pleasure-filled voice screaming his name in his head, dragging every sensation out of him. His orgasm hit him with the strength and speed of a thunderstorm, lightning bolts of satisfaction striking every fiber of his body.

 Yes! Yesss  —Damnit! 

He comes hard with a low and throaty growl he forgot to —or couldn't repress, silently repeating your name again and again, his lower lip almost cut open from how hard he had bit himself, an enormous vein on his forehead where sweat covers his skin. His thick, hot cum spills messily in an indecently large amount, the aftermath of having held himself back for so long, leaking on his pants and fingers and staining his cot; a dash of white contrasting with the darkness of what he just did.

He’s praying to the Lord and the Devil, any mystical forces known to man, that nobody had heard his final relief sound, especially not you. It was louder than what he would like to admit.

Shit, so damn good…

Using his black bandana, he roughly cleans himself then tosses it somewhere on the floor, his cock finally softening as he shoves it back under his clothes, balls empty. And it feels good. So good a wave of shame and guilt crashes onto him once more. What a pig he was for jerking off while ogling you. What an old bastard he was to mingle you and his filth. But at the same time, he feels like his muscles are thanking him, his restless flesh satisfied, even though he almost hurt himself with how fast he had stroked, lost in his haze.

His bittersweet and contradictory feelings accompanied him as he took a last glance at your tent before drifting off to sleep, his breathing still a bit raspy as if he had run for hours. You had closed your book and taken the candle between your hands to blow on it, the little flame flickering before fading. And then, darkness.

The curtains falling on the stage at the end of this private decadent act.

Eyelids heavy, Arthur knows he will finally sleep tonight.

But he also knows this isn’t the end of his torments at all; the conflicting thoughts paint his mind just as the sun pierces through the dark ebony clouds of a thunderstorm, creating those abruptly dazing shapes and color, pitch black laced with blinding light.

Never in this life or the Other he will forget the form of your naked body, no matter how wicked he feels. Because when it comes to you and only you, Arthur Morgan is, indeed, a very weak man.

Part II

tagging : @a-court-of-valkyries and @zae-heeyyy

[jennchecks]

✨💗Happy (belated) birthday to my wonderful friend, Maria @elinordash!! 💗✨ ↬dreamstat, dreamstat, dreamstat, dreamst--

[heylittleriotact]

No wonder Emmrich.exe stopped working when Rook asks if the tea in the memorial garden at the end of their outing was set up to impress them.

Death-man brought Rook to this place to try and help them sort through some of the feelings they need to confront in order to healthily mourn the death of someone who presumably meant a great deal to them.

The “light refreshment” was waiting at the end as a deliberate part of Emmrich’s care as a death professional. When I was in funerals we had coffee, tea, and freshly baked cookies waiting for every family that came in for arrangements, visitations, services, or after-care meetings: they’re comforting little gestures that people tend to really lean into during a difficult time.

So yeah. Given the circumstances and the reason for the outing to begin with, it would be a lot like someone showing up at the funeral home to make arrangements for their mum, looking at my spread of coffee and cookies and being like “Ooooh… are you hitting on me? 👀”

I would have had the exact same reaction Emmrich did lmao

[nadvs]

okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷

🍓anon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.

Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.

Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.

You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.

Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.

And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.

But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.

You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.

One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.

When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.

“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.

“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”

Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.

When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.

“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”

Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.

“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”

“What?”

“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”

Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?

He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.

It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.

You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.

“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.

“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”

“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.

“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.

“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.

“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”

“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”

Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.

“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.

You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.

“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”

Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.

“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.

“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”

Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.

Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.

Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.

But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.

When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.

You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.

“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.

“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”

“What? In love?” he mutters.

“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.

“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”

“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.

“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.

“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”

Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.

“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.

“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.

But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.

“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.

Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?

He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.

“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.

“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.

He won’t say anything else. He can’t.

“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”

Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.

When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.

When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.

You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.

Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.

“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”

“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.

Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”

His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.

[curlyfriesgalore]

curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt. [2,817 words]

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an unpleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow clutching his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong, far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

[myokk]

mdni 😇🤭💘

[s4turns-st4rs]

hiiiihiiiihiiihiiihhihihihican u pls pls plssss write about ben shelton and a pretty tennis player fem reader who's rlly good at tennis esp for her height bc shes quite short and she's kinda cheeky and playful and sort of has ben whipped for her like wherever she is, he's there trying to talk to her and shes popular and stuff pls this is such a cute n funny idea you can write as much as you want pls im BEGGINGGG

my rose coloured boy

🎧 ﹐ ♡﹒a ben shelton oneshot ﹒ ᶻ ᶻ

𝐚/𝐧: this is SOSOSOOO cute thank you for the request oh my godddd AND it was so much fun to write anon you’re a genius. accidentally made it a bit angsty, but ofc there’s a happy ending. anyway enjoy lovelies xxx

requests are always open <3

in which: ben is desperate for your attention, whether you like it or not.

words: 1.1k

request: anon!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none!

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: take a chance on me - abba

you exited the changing rooms of the centre court of roland garros, accompanied by your friend and fellow tennis player, coco guaff. your bag was slung over your shoulder as you used your towel to wipe your face down, attempting in vain to rid yourself of the post-match mental rollercoaster. but you knew coco’s charming stories always kept you from overthinking. at least for a moment, anyway.

as you spoke to her, giggling and gossiping, a familiar voice reached your ears, his perfect florida accent already making your heart beat faster.

“oi, shortie!”

“hm? oh, hey ben.” you said, immediately recognising the nickname, as you turned to face your fellow tennis player, looking up at the taller man.

he smiled at the sheer sight of you, running a hand through his unruly mop of curls. “you played well today.” he said with a sweet grin, admiring you, despite the beads of sweat that stayed stubbornly on your forehead and the loose ponytail your hair had been haphazardly thrown into.

“i lost.” you said, in a failed attempt at sounding nonchalant, depsite the loss’ effect on you.

“and?” he said, his unfairly long eyelashes fluttering in mock innocence. “i still think you played well.” he added as he joined the two of you as you walked towards the car park.“besides,” he continued, quietly admiring your side profile. “you always play well.”

“yeah. you’re a top 10 player for a reason, y’know.” coco chimed in, giving you a little elbow in the ribs.

“exactly.” ben said, nodding wisely as he spoke. “anyone would be blessed to play against you, whether you win or lose.”

after managing a few more moments of ben’s over exaggerated praise, coco made some hasty excuse about her dog, clearly keen to avoid third wheeling the two of you any longer. you and ben stood in silence as you watched her hurry away, probably to gossip with frances tiafoe and taylor fritz about the horrendously obvious flirting she’s just endured.

“… you don’t have to compliment me, y’know.” you say, as the silence became uncomfortable and almost claustrophobic.

“what? coco and i are just—” he started, before you cut him off.

“no, i mean, you. every time you speak to me, it’s like you compliment me every time there’s a second of silence.”

“… oh.” ben said quietly, looking at you sheepishly. “do you … not like it?”

“well, yeah … but after a while, it just feels … fake.”

“… oh.” he said again. he was silent for a moment, like he couldn’t manage to say anything else, like a broken record. “… sorry.” he managed eventually, his singular word almost a whisper, his eyes trained firmly on his sneakers, gently scuffing the tips on the car park road.

“no, don’t apologise.” you say quickly, scrambling for a way to wipe the sad, pouty look off his face that practically broke your heart. “i love when you compliment me, i just … don’t want you to feel like you have to give me praise all the time, y’know?”

he looked back at you bashfully. “… well, as long as you don’t find it annoying.” he said, before his pout turned into a smug smile. “then i can give you as many compliments as i want.”

you almost let out a sigh of relief at the return of his signature lopsided grin, and laughed a bit at his proud tone. “oh yeah?”

“yeah.” he said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “gonna give you all the compliments in the world.”

you laugh again at his toddler-like stubbornness. “i’d like to see you try.” you said, mocking him by crossing your arms in the same smug action.

he let out a deep laugh at your response. “well, be prepared, because you’re about to be showered in praise like you’ve never been before.”

he made a dramatic show of stretching his arms, cracking his knuckles, before suddenly, wrapping an arm around your waist, and lifting you up into his arms. he hooked an arm underneath your knees, now holding you bridal style in the middle of an empty car park.

“oi, ben!” you nearly screeched as he smiled innocently at you. “what, my love?” he said, the pet name rolling of his tongue before he could stop it. he seemed to realise what he said, going a deep shade of red as you felt his arms tense underneath you. he stilled for a moment, looking practically mortified.

you smile at his embarrassment, despite having equally red cheeks. “what happened? thought you were going to shower me with compliments, my love?” you tease, turning the pet name back on him with a smirk.

your words seem to snap him out of a trance, and he looked at you with a grin. “oh, you don’t even know what’s coming.”

he fixed his grip around your waist, before announcing loudly to the empty surrounds. “i love your eyes. i love your smile. i love the way you laugh. i love the music you listen to, even if it sucks. i love the ribbons you wear in your hair. i love the way you scream when you score an important point during a match.” he started smugly, and began placing gentle kisses to your face to punctuate each point.

“i love the way you dress.” a kiss to your left cheek.

“i love how short you are.” a kiss to your right cheek.

“i love your handwriting.” a kiss to your forehead.

“i love how passionate you are about stupid, small things that don’t matter.” a kiss to your chin.

”i love watching you play tennis.” a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“okay, my music does not suck, and i am not short, and—” you began in protest, before ben interrupted you by pressing his lips to yours. finally.

ben kissed you gently, like he was worried you’d pull away, but you pulled him closer to you, desperately letting the feeling of the kiss consume you.

after what get like an eternity, you both gently spilt apart, leaving the two of you breathless and gasping for air.

“… well, now i’m going to have to give you the same amount of compliments.” you managed after a moment, your words still breathy and forced.

ben let a cheesy smile grace his face at your words, a soft giggle escaping him. “it’s okay, shortie.” he said, looking down at you, still held close in his arms. “we’ve got time.”

[skitskatdacat63]

For Dru (@fortheloveofaussiegrit), thank you for completely and utterly brainrotting me with this moment 🙏

[shinybeads]

Favorite Seasonal Looks of 2024 - Poll Results

The results are in! 🎉 Thank you so much to everyone who participated and shared! 🥰💞

You can find the results of each poll in the alt descriptions! 😌

So, did your favorite look win? 👀✨️

[greensagephase]

More Mafia Miguel x Oc 🤭🥹🫶🫶🫶

OMG, POOKIE SO THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE COOKING WHEN YOU SENT ME THIS A WHILE BACK!!!! I’m eating this up OMG, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!

No, you don’t know!! I’m giggling and kicking my feet rn at the way Miguel is smiling at Kira while she has that grumpy look on her face!! 🤭I must know what they talked about!! Also, when you say mission, um, what kind of mission? Is Kira not Spider-Woman here anymore, or does Miguel already know her true identity? GIRL I NEED TO KNOW!! Also, the little heart by Miguel and Kira’s symbol!! Miguel is already in love with her while Kira seems to have some conflictive feelings already, maybe?? 👀👀🤭

But then RAHHHHH, 3 YEARS LATER THEY’RE TOGETHER!!! No, I’m actually so happy for them rn!!

Miguel… The way he’s holding and kissing her… I’m gonna go lay down on the interstate, brb!!

Seriously though, these sketches ARE SO SO SO AMAZING!!!! Thank you (I say this every time but fr) for sharing your sketches with me and everyone else!! 🥹 THANK YOU, POOKIE!! Also, I hope you're having a wonderful day/night!! 💕💕

Alondra❤️

[humblepoet26]

I fell a little more in love with myself tonight.. 🌙

[midnight-mourning]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Or at least, happy spookvember! Unfortunately couldn't get this out on time like I wanted, BUT it's here now (or will be soon). I figured since the poll I made back at the end of September was so close, I'd just give you guys a bonus of a Halloween thing for funsies. So, if you haven't guessed it already:

click the read more please

YOU'RE GETTING ANOTHER ONESHOT!

in 24 hours, or less.

Let me explain

So, the promptober ended up being MUCH longer than I anticipated, and I think with how much that happened, y'all need to sit and digest it before i hit you smack in the face with another one. I also need time to write it and it's gonna end up being worked on today and tomorrow both. By the time you see this I will be back at it.

BUT KNOW THIS, it's on it's way, and it picks up right off where we left off in the promptober. It's going to be a much more light-hearted read as well.

So, KEEP THIS POST SAVED, as I'll update it with the one-shot once it's finished, as well as an ao3 link. I'll also post an update with the link so you'll hopefully be notified once it's here. SO, hope you enjoyed the first part, and be on the lookout for part two soon :)

IF YOURE SEEING THIS AND YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS STORY FIRST. DO SO. It's basically the set up for this one.

Okay, here's your story, hope you enjoy! Ended up being much longer than I anticipated but she's fun.

Borrowed Time

Word count: 5511

🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃

"Hurry up! We're gonna be late!" You hear your sister call from outside your room. 

You adjust your shirt collar once more, and double check the green paint covering any and all exposed skin on your body hasn't smeared. Though, you doubt it. Lisa made sure to completely cover you. Be that because she wanted your costume to look nice or simply because it was a ploy to make you miserable, who's to say?

You turn around, facing your brother who's sitting up on the bed, still looking very cute in his pumpkin costume. 

Your sister bursts into the room, "Let's goooo." She moans, marching over to you and starting to shove you towards the door with gloved hands.

"Hey, hey cool it Frankenstein. There's a baby on the bed that has to come with us."

You can't see her eyes through the goggles she's wearing, but her frown tells you she's not pleased. 

You turn to face her fully, "Lisa. We can't leave Gabe at home."

She groans, and starts trudging out of your room, "Fineeee, but hurry uuupp."

"Okaaayyyy," You say, and put your focus on your little brother. 

You put your hands on your hips, "Alright Gabriel, ready to go?"

He sneezes. 

"Good enough for me," You nod, scooping him up and heading downstairs. 

Your neighborhood was filled with people in their 60s or older, all retired types and the likes, with a few families with kids Lisa's age here and there. Meaning it was a gold mine for candy. You make your usual lap around the block, Lisa guiding you as you pull Gabe along in his wagon. 

As you return to your house, Lisa's bucket and the wagon having collected a good bit of candy, you reach down and snatch up a chocolate bar, snacking on it.

You decide you have to mess with her at least a little bit, "You sure you still want to go to the Plex? This is quite the haul, you know."

"Yes! You promised!"

You laugh, ruffling her already crazed hair, "Just making sure. Go dump your candy on the table while I strap Gabe in, yeah?"

She rushes off, and while you're putting your brother in the car and loading up the wagon your phone buzzes. 

It's Abby, 'Hey! You going to make it to the party tonight?

Gonna be super spooky~ :)

And there's a costume contest! Winner gets a sweet prize'

You text back as you start up your car, Lisa rushing back out the door to get in, 'I'll stop by for a bit, team's making me, but Lisa's foaming at the mouth to trick or treat this year and that's my priority'

'Yeah that'd be mine too if I was dealing with her

Thankfully mom and dad have Jack and I don't'

You walk up to your porch, double checking you left the candy bowl out and lock your front door.

'If I have to take a guess, she'll be exhausted by nine and I can drop 'em both off in the Daycare for a bit

but not for long, I wanna be in bed by 11 tonight'

'What are you, 30?'

You get in your car, ignoring Lisa's whining to get a move on, 'Hahahahahaha no.

Just slept bad during my nap earlier'

You pull out, heading to the Pizza Plex. When you arrived, the place is packed, you just manage to grab a parking spot. As soon as she's out of the car Lisa is heading for the entrance, and you have grab her so you can get Gabe out and situated in his wagon. 

Upon entering, you're actually quite impressed. You'd seen some staff setting up over the past few days, but now that all the decorations were up it really added to the wow factor. People milled about from place to place, all dressed up, and Halloween music played from speakers all across the atrium. 

You look down to your sister, "Alright, where do you wanna start first-aaand she's gone. Dang it, Lisa."

After a quick search you spy her at one of the many tables and booths set up. You give her a brief scolding but then continue on with your evening. 

By seven you're the one that's exhausted, you're pretty sure you've hit every spot once if not twice. Except for one, that is. 

You'd been saving the Daycare because it's where you'd wanted to end, but now you had no choice, Lisa had quite literally visited every trick or treating spot already, and played most of the carnival games. 

The doors are open, and inside you see kids running about playing games and such. Tending to a long line of trick or treaters is Mia and one of the other helpers. She's dressed as a werewolf, while the other helper-Carter maybe?-is dressed as a ghoul.

The former greets you as you approach, "Hey! Good to see you! Love your costume."

"Thank you, I made it for them," Lisa speaks for you, chest puffing with pride. 

Mia drops some candy into her bucket, "Well of course! Excellent work, Dr. Frankenstein. There's more candy and goodies inside if you'd like to take a peek."

Your sister turns to you, eyes wide. You nod, and she's rushing in, almost knocking over Carter in the process. 

You cringe as you watch after her, her maniacal laughter echoing in her wake. 

"Sorry about her," You say as you step to the side, pulling Gabe's wagon up to beside you.

Mia waves her hand, "No worries, but look at this cutie here!" She bends down to Gabe's level, "Hello Gabriel! You look very handsome this evening."

He giggles as she continues to fawn over him. In the meantime, you scan through the Daycare, looking for the bot you're pretty sure was the subject of your crazy dream earlier. 

He shows himself for you, suddenly appearing on the ground in front of a group of kids, who shriek from fear and delight. He raises to his full height slowly, using his cape to cover part of his face. 

His cape bursts open and he poses, hands up and fingers clawed. It causes the little group to scatter, laughing as they run away. 

As he straightens again, he suddenly pauses for a moment, his focus turning to you. His rays spin once or twice and you smirk, waving. 

Another pause, then, one hand to his chest, he bows low. Your phone buzzes as he rises again. 

'We need to talk.'

You frown, but then shake it off, 'Can't even compliment my costume first? Lisa spent like three hours getting me this green'

'It's, fine. Perhaps a bit tacky, but fine'

You have to hide your gasp as you look up to him, he's now busy with several kids,  'You know, there's a particular emoji I want to send you right now, but I won't because at least one of us has class

I hope that glitter glue stains your faceplate'

'You're simply jealous I look better than you, it sounds like'

You grit your teeth, 'When and where?'

'Ball pit. As soon as possible, preferably'

You glance back to see Mia still messing with Gabe, they're playing peek a boo.

"Hey, this is a weird ask, but could you watch Gabe for me for a second? I uh, need to go check on Lisa."

She gives you a thumb's up and a grin, "Of course! Here Gabe, you wanna help me pass out candy?"

With that taken care of, you head off into the chaos of the Daycare. 

Dodging running kids, you do spy your sister among them, viciously trying to win a game with donuts on a string. Her snapping teeth and general, aggressive, energy does make you question for a moment how much sugar she's had already.

You shrug it off, she's probably fine.

Another group of kids running giggling from Sun by the ball pit, but his demeanor shifts as soon as he sees you. Standing tall, maybe even irritated. 

"Well? What's so important it can't wait until say, tomorrow?"

Sun's hands smooth out his shirt, "Something's going on with Fazerblast."

"Yeah, trust me I'm well aware," You scoff and shake your head, "Been working on it for days with no luck, why do you care?"

His eyes narrow, "Because it's an opportunity, Bright Eyes. Surely you see that."

"Opportunity? For what-Oh no. No, no, no, you are not doing this to me tonight."

He clasps his hands together, bending so you're eye to eye, "When would you like me to remind you then, Sunshine? When the attraction and, surrounding areas, are functional again and we're able to do nothing?"

You're mad. Because you know he's right. You hate it when he's right. Much less admit to it. 

The glitches that've been occurring have been, concerning, to say the least. The map bots have been going haywire after using the charging stations, the music that plays throughout becoming warped, distorted. Certain walls and such shifting randomly, in some cases trapping kids in boxed out sections, to the concern of angry parents. 

Not to mention that the guns have also been malfunctioning, misfiring and in some cases, shocking participants when fired. Both the wielder and their target, which should not be happening. And that’s on top of the power outages.

Sun leans closer, voice low, "I believe you are as aware as I regarding a certain, threat, looming in this building. Surely you don't doubt that they may see tonight as as much an opportunity, right?"

You feel your eyes widen a tinge, "You think, you know who, is behind it? Why?"

"It's not her typical method, but it's the only logical conclusion I can come to," His rays spin, "And I'd rather interfere now before it grows worse."

"Mister Sun! What are you two talking 'bout?"

You both jump, looking down and seeing a couple curious kids.

Sun goes into action immediately, taking your hand and spinning you into a dip, "I'm persuading them to join my legion of the undead for all eternity, and if you aren't careful, I'll get you too!"

That does the trick, they run off giggling and chattering. You're still in his arms when you speak up.

"What was that."

He seems to realize he's still holding you, setting you upright and brushing his hands off on his pants, "Acting. Try not to think too hard on it, wouldn't want to damage that brain you're borrowing."

You scoff, "Ha ha. Anyway, since when do you care about other people? I don't see how you're set to gain anything from figuring this out."

"It's not 'people', that I'm worried about, Bright Eyes. Freddy is supposed to be hosting a game of laser tag later tonight and I fear-" He stops himself, looking away. 

You're surprised, but stick to just a simple tease, "Aw, you care about your friends, how sweet. Fine, I'm in. But you better have a strategy for getting out of here without being noticed."

"I think the opportunity may present itself sooner than anticipated," You see he's looking behind you.

The kids from before are back, and have brought many friends, garnering a small crowd. You spot Lisa among them, hands on her hips and angry pout on her lips. 

She takes charge, pointing, "Hey! The only one that gets to boss them around is me."

Once again, you don't get to react. 

Sun laughs darkly, shifting to stand behind you and taking you by the shoulders. He bends so his head is by your ear, taking surprising care to ensure you don't get poked by his rays. 

You glance up and see the wire lower from the ceiling slowly, "I'm afraid you're too late, Dr. They've fallen into my clutches and I won't be letting go so easily. They're mine now, and I'll be whisking them away to live in my castle, forever!"

Suddenly, you're in the air, Sun holding you firmly around the waist to ensure you don't fall. 

"But, as compensation for your loss," He opens his cloak and candy falls to the ground where you'd been standing, "Please accept this gracious exchange."

To your sister's credit, she seems to considered the offer for a moment before, "I suppose this suffices, very well," And she has the audacity to wave her hand.

Your mouth is agape in shock as you're carried over to the balcony outside the Daycare Attendant's room, "Lisa!"

"He had skittles! That's too good to pass up!" She shouts back, already digging through the candy with the other kids.

Sun sets you both down on the balcony shortly thereafter, and ushers you inside.

"And what was that?" You look up to him, only for his hands to cover your eyes.

"Still acting~ Now, no peeking. I don't need you invading my privacy."

"But you're the one who brought me up here!" You protest. No fair. You didn't even get a single glance around the room.

He scoffs lightly, "Semantics, Sunbeam. Start walking."

If you were in a worse mood you'd have ignore the demand. But, you want to get this over with as quick as possible. You feel bad just leaving your siblings in the care of the helpers without any notice, and you'd also like to actually enjoy Halloween a bit instead of doing what you do every day. 

You hear a door open and shut, and the hands are removed. It's still dark however, and turning you see the other Attendant is standing behind you.

"How do you manage to completely change your outfit?" You nod to the lack of shirt and cloak. 

His faceplate spins, "Trade secret."

"Fair enough, how's your Halloween going? Besides this I mean," You start walking down the hall to the theater, where you hear a Halloween movie playing.

He walks beside you, passing out a candy or two to the kids who notice you pass, "Delightful. I rather enjoy holidays when they're open to the public. Thought a day off is nice every so often."

"Tell me about it, I'm glad we decided to take a half-day today."

You reach the door and Moon bids you farewell, "Good luck, and try not to be too hasty, Icarus."

"No promises," You wink and start to walk out of the theater, only to pause and spin around to watch the transformation but, "Oh come on! That was way too quick."

Sun adjust the collar of his shirt, "You have better things to be worrying about, let's get going now, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to tell me twice."

You set off, walking through the busy Plex to Fazerblast. It's actually easier than you expected. No one questions why you and the Attendant are together, which is a nice change of pace from always being concerned about being caught. With the added factor and chaos of Halloween, it's no trouble, save for a few kids wanting pictures and candy. 

You run into Chica along the way, she's dressed up as Roxanne. While the chat is cheerful, it's also useful in confirming that yes, Freddy will be hosting a Halloween tournament in the next twenty minutes. It also confirms your fears. 

"I feel so bad for him! He's been practicing so much, even choosing to charge over there as opposed to his room the past few nights," Chica sighs, "And yet, he seems so tired, kind of out of it, you know? Not to mention his laser gun keeps causing problems..."

Sun and yourself share a glance but say nothing.

Chica waves her hand, "Well, don't let me keep you anymore, have fun you two!" She shoots a wink and a finger gun your wave and you look away, embarrassed.

As you walk off Sun questions it, "What was that about?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it," You shake your head, coughing, then notice how he's paused, optics dim, "What?"

His eyes brighten again, but his tone is grim, "Freddy's not responding over the FECN. And after discussing with the rabbit, he apparently hasn't for over an hour."

"I'm guessing that's not normal?" 

Sun shakes his head slowly.

You curse under your breath, "Come on, we're almost there and now we know we don't have any time to spare-"

Your hand is grabbed by someone, Abby you realize, "There you are! Come on, we just watched Pete dunk Jesse's head in the apple tank and now they're fighting."

"It was so funny, Bri's trying to break them up but I don't think it's going well," Savannah puts her hand on your shoulder, also guiding you along.

You glance back in time to see Sun get pat on the back by Liv as she follows after you three, grabbing the bot's arm, "You should join too! Come on!"

Your eyes meet Sun's and you think you share the same, slightly panicked look. You don't have time for the party. Knowing what you do about Freddy there's no telling what's going to happen at this tournament.

But you can't think of an excuse as an easy out and thus, you have no choice but to join in the festivities and look for a chance to escape in the meantime.

Thankfully, Sun seems to think the same way, not resisting as the two of you are paraded into the west arcade. 

The music's booming, people are chatting excitedly, and laughter is heard every so often. The decorations here are just are spooky as those throughout the Plex, cobwebs and bats and pumpkins hanging off railings and the ceiling and so on. 

Sure enough, you spy a soaking wet Jesse and Pete sitting across from each other by the stage. Tyler meanwhile, is chomping on an apple while leaning back against the stage, you see it’s one of several. He shoots you a ‘hang loose’ upon seeing you.

Bri is standing over the pair on the ground and appears to be scolding them. She perks up when she sees you arrive though.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!" She grins, giving you a brief hug, "And Sun! You look great!"

He mutters a quiet thank you as she continues to chat with him. Meanwhile you scan your surroundings for any kind of distraction to you get out of here.

"Looking for something?" Pete asks from below you, drawing you out of your worried thoughts. 

You glance down to him, "Just observing. What's the deal with you two and water?" You gesture between him and Jesse.

The later stops rubbing his hair with a pumpkin towel, "Pete thinks if he waterboards me it proves he's right."

"That is not true, you started it! He said my costume wasn't good," He looks to the other man on the ground, sneering "Which, by the way, yours is shit."

Jesse throws up his hands, half-dried cloth flailing in the air, "You're the one who picked it out for me, and did my makeup!"

They start bickering and Savannah comes up beside you again, shaking her head, "Ignore them, they're especially annoying tonight because they're both drinking."

"Not surprising."

She pats your shoulder, "Hey, I know it's a party and I really don't want to talk shop, but, I had a breakthrough with the trigger pins."

"Oh? I'm listening," You can't leave currently, might as well find a way to pass the time. 

"I snagged one of the faulty guns and just, took it apart to see what I could find, you know, quality engineer brain," She takes a sip of her drink, "And there's nothing wrong with it. The triggers are fine. It's a software issue, got to be."

Your eyes widen slightly, and it occurs to you what situation you might have on your hands here. 

Unfortunately, the lights cut before you can react. The emergency lights come on soon thereafter however, so the room's only in relative darkness. People seem slightly alarmed, but once someone boots up a generator and the music starts again, they settle. 

You hear a couple whistles behind you, and several compliments. 

"Woah! That transition was slick, and your costume looks great!"

A quiet, shy laugh, and, "Thank you, Officer Perry."

You turn, finding Moon standing in Sun's place. And, yet again, you've missed the change in costumes. Damn. 

But, you know a chance when it's put in front of you like this, and checking the time you see you've got a little under ten minutes. 

You walk over to the bot who's still getting many compliments and take his hand, looking up to him, "Come with me to get a drink."

He nods, and giving a wave to your friends, you head off. 

"I don't believe this is the time for beverages, Pandora."

When you get far enough away you stop, turning to him, "I know. Just needed an excuse. Hopefully they'll buy it." You realize you're still holding his hand and quickly let it go, mumbling an apology.

You notice he seems on edge.

"What's wrong now?" You're almost afraid to ask.

"Freddy has been, removed, from the FECN."

"But the last time something like that happened-" You stop, swallowing your fear, "How fast can you get down there?"

Moon chuckles, "Depends on how much you trust me, Diana. And how strong your grip is."

You find out what he means as you're rushing through the rafters and the halls and over balconies to get to the laser tag area. You hold on for dear life, only able to hear the whooshing of air as Moon carries you.

"You're quicker than I thought!" You say over the noise.

You feel his chuckle more than hear it, "Is that a compliment?"

"You can take it as one, how's that?" You squeak and huddle closer to him when you drop from one railing to another.

"Still bitter about my costume change?"

You take the provided distraction, "You're hiding a modern engineering feat from me on purpose. That's cruel. Something I'd expect Sun to do to me, not you, Moon-man."

"You think so highly of me," He beams, "I'll keep that in mind for future use."

The conversation helps ease you a little. You don't think he would drop you, intentionally or unintentionally, but his secure hold along with teasing words offers you a bit of comfort as you worry over what you'll find once you arrive at Fazerblast. 

When you arrive in the staff hallway, it's as dark as anywhere else, only emergency lights being the way to see. It's enough, however, for Sun to reappear. 

"Still no sign of him?" You ask as you walk over to the door. 

You hear a click or two, "No, not yet-"

Suddenly, before you can get out your keycard you're pressed back into the door, Sun's body covering yours as he uses a hand to shield you. 

"What?"

His tone is low, pointed, "We're not alone."

You peek through the gap between his other arm and the wall. Sure enough, under one of the red lights down the hall, there stands a figure. You think it must be Rabbit Lady. Though, she looks different. 

Covered in shadow, it's hard to make out her features, but her build looks much bulkier than usual. More like Bonnie. It's decrepit as well.

Gaps in her costume that look like they've been torn away, small strands of something poking out at odd angles in spots. Her eyes are two small, purple pupils which stare you down. 

A sound from the opposite end of the hall, you both turn to see another shadowed individual standing at the edge of the light. This one, you don't know who, or what they are. Also bulky, but more human in stature. One of their hands is a giant claw though, and their pigtails look like they're made of thick cables and not hair. Their pupils are green.

There's a smell of smoke in the air. But it's, faded.

"Unlock the door," Sun mutters.

 You nod shakily and fumble in your pocket for the keycard. No movement from anyone. You slowly start to raise the keycard by your side.

There's a noise from down the hall. Rabbit lady-that has to her right? what who else could it be?-has taken a step forward. A sound from the other side of the hall. Pigtails has also taken a step.

In a moment's hesitation, you drop your keys and they clatter to the floor. 

"Shit-"

Both figures start rushing towards you and you fumble to snatch up your keys in time. Just as you grab them Sun takes hold of you to shelter you. You hear both of them rush closer and realize it's too late.

You squeeze your eyes shut when there's a loud noise of something booting up. Opening your eyes, you find the lights are back on, and the figures are gone. Like they were never there in the first place. Like,

"Ghosts..." You whisper. 

Sum murmurs in agreement at first, then shakes his head.

"Ghosts aren't real." He states, releasing you.

"Okay then how do you explain that?" You motion to how the hallway is completely empty save for the two of you.

His rays click, "I can't. But we don't have time for this, hurry now, before it's too late."

You huff, but nod, unlocking the door and rushing inside. 

Fazerblast is up and running, and you spy everyone gathered around in the center of the arena. The contest hasn’t started yet. More importantly you spy,

"Freddy!" You rush over, Sun in tow. 

He turns to face you both, zombie costume doing nothing to hide his friendly demeanor, "Hello Y/N! Hello Sun! What are you both doing here? Have you come to join laser tag?"

"I, you, you're okay?" You're slightly out of breath, and confused. Very confused. 

His brows furrow, "Well of course, should I not be?"

"Friend, you're not on the FECN," Sun steps forward and puts his hand on the shorter bot's shoulder, "No one could contact you, we were all so worried!"

Freddy's eyes widen, "Ah, I forgot! Lizzy removed my access for the time being to save my battery for the competition! It will be restored once it is over."

You feel a bit relieved, and you can tell by how Sun's posture relaxes he does too. But still, you need clarification.

"Chica said you haven't been yourself lately, would that be why?"

The bear looks down, hand coming up to scratch his neck, "I... have not been charging properly the past few days due to improper power flow to the charging station. I was so focused on preparing that I did not realize I wasn't getting enough rest until they informed me of the issue. I am sorry for making you all worry."

"No trouble at all, Friend!" Sun steps back to stand beside you, "We're just glad you're alright!"

Sometimes you forget how nice he can be. Your eyes a squint as he puts a hand on your shoulder. But then you snap out of it and shake your head, turning back to the bear in front of you.

"So wait, would that be what caused the issues with the staff bots? Just faulty charging stations?" The fact that it's not related to the previous issues, that it's not even a glitch, has you relieved.

"Not quite."

You turn, and see Lizzy standing there, holding something covered by a white cloth. Their hair is manic, and they're covered in cobwebs and grime from head to toe. You cringe, at least they're wearing coveralls. 

They approach, "Figured out the source of all our issues. Want to take a guess?"

"Have anything to do with that there?" You nod to the white sheet. 

"Oh yeah."

They remove the sheet, revealing a cage filled with-

"Mice?" You and Sun both question. 

Lizzy looks ready to lose their mind, "Yup. I know. Turns out, there's a crawlspace behind where all the machinery is for this place and these little guys," They lift the cage, "Decided to make it their home. Then when they got tired of that, they thought that the generators running Fazerblast would make for a great sub-division to their mousey-neighborhood. You have no idea the number of mice nests I've cleared out of there. Not to mention the number of wires I'm going to have to finish replacing that they chewed through."

"So, it's not related to the mechanics, or the software at all," You say in awe, "Just the power, and some mice."

"And some mice," Lizzy repeats, sighing, "So, so many mice."

You look up to Sun, he looks down to you.

"Huh." "Huh."

You're half out of it when you stumble back into the party upstairs. You brought the Attendant with you because, well you don't really know but you're both here now.

You find your friends in front of the stage, who greet you as you arrive. 

"Long time for a drink," Bri quips, "You get lost?"

You laugh weakly, "Something like that."

"You're just in time for the contest results!" Liv exclaims before turning back to the stage.

You sigh, leaning back onto the bot behind you, not caring if it bothers him, "Oh goody."

Sun huffs, but allows you to stay leaning against him while Abby gives her brief spiel on stage before announcing the runner ups and then the winners.

"And in second place, in a surprise entry, but with many votes, we have the Daycare Attendant! Congratulations, Sun!"

People start cheering and clapping and you stand straight, shocked.

"You're joking."

Abby speaks up again, "And in third place, with their killer Frankenstein's monster costume, Y/N!"

"You're joking."

Sun snickers quietly behind you as the two of you are ushered onto the stage beside your friend. You do your best to hide your complete and utter disbelief and frustration.

You're handed a sack of chocolate coins, you're too mad to pay attention to what Sun's prize is. His head is held high, waving and posing and it makes you want to throttle him.

Abby clears he throat, "But of course, we still have first place, which goes to, none other than the other Daycare Attendant, Moon!"

"What."

You bust out laughing, and continue to do so as the lights dim to only a few blue and purple ones remaining, allowing the Naptime Attendant to claim his prize. After the ups and downs of tonight, you'd consider this a pretty good way to end it.

"So," You pop another chocolate coin in your mouth, "You don't think those were ghosts?"

You're sitting on the floor of the Daycare, an hour or so later. Halloween night isn't over yet, but it's starting to wind down. A few straggling kids run through the Daycare here and there, and Mia and Carter are finishing out with the trick or treaters. 

Your sister is asleep, laying partly in your lap. Gabe is still awake, but his eyes are drooping as he plays blocks with Sun. 

The Attendant looks up from his task, scoffing, "Don't be ridiculous, of course they weren't."

"Okay, well we aren't in a panic situation anymore, so give me an explanation."

His rays spin, staring at you, then glances back down to your brother, "I don't have one."

"Ha!"

"Yet. There's a logical explanation to what we saw, I'm sure of it." He shakes his head a smidge, muttering, "There must be..."

You crumple the gold wrapper in your hand, flicking it so it hits square in the middle of his faceplate, "Well, we thought Rabbit Lady was causing the glitches, and it was just a couple of mice, so I guess anything is possible."

He nods. Then, reaches behind him, holding out two items stacked on top of each other. A folded up t-shirt, and a mug. The second and first place prizes for the costume contest, respectively.

"Here. These are useless to us. You should have them."

You're, incredibly surprised.

"I, wouldn't you want to give them to someone like Bri? Or maybe one of the kids?" Sure it was just silly prizes, but still. It's, kind of flattering? You don’t know how to feel, really.

Sun shakes his head, urging you to grab the items, "You're the only one that makes sense. Take them before I change my mind on the shirt."

"Okay, okay," You do, and after maneuvering around your sleeping sister, switch out your coat and undershirt for the orange t-shirt. It has print on it for 'Fazbear Frights'. You forgot that attraction even existed until you saw the shirt.

You finish putting it on and fix your hair, "Well?" 

Sun stares down at you, rays clicking. You raise a brow. 

"You know, I think it probably would look better on me."

You gasp, and he snickers, narrowly dodging your hand as you swat at him, before hitting him with more crumpled wrappers that were laying around, ignoring his complaints about needing to 'clean up'. 

All in all, not a bad Halloween. 

Maybe, just maybe, one of the best.

Maybe.

🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃

And there you have it, my written spooky month content is done! I have to finish my trick or treat asks, but that'll be it. Though, there is of course, the OTHER things on the spookvember schedule, wonder what they could possibly be referrring to?? 🤔🤔

Ah, you'll find out soon enough, thanks for reading!!

Also, before I go, THE GHOSTS ARE JUST GHOSTS AND HAVE NO DEEPER MEANING IN RELATION TO CONFUSED SPIRIT, they're just here to add to the suspense and the spookiness I promise

on another note totally DONT read into that pause from Sun

[needy-princesss]

a little something to celebrate 500 followers 🤭

hope you enjoy x ✨️

me