#the person checking us out had their pronouns (he/they/she) on their nametag but the person who they/them'd me didnt LMFAO

[noisolpxe]

getting they/them'd at build-a-bear yesterday was so funny i keep thinking about it

#the person checking us out had their pronouns (he/they/she) on their nametag but the person who they/them'd me didnt LMFAO #★ #ik its bc people short circuit when they see someone who presents masc with long hair but it never fails to be a lil funny to me #like ive also been called ma'am or miss or been she/her'd by ppl and then i speak or take down my mask and theyre like WAIT IM SO SORRY!! #and im always like. its fine its honestly funny and amusing ur view of gender is so narrow u see me & assume bc my hair i must be nonbinary #its funny in the way of if i think too hard about it i'll be sad so i just have to laugh about it #ik my dad went thru the same thing when he had long hair despite being a broad shouldered 6'4'' man #he said it happened esp in the bathroom dudes would think they were in the women's bc they'd see him from behind djdjdhjf

[chickenfics]

the way I love the ocean

Relationship: Robin Buckley x Female!Reader

Summary: It was the summer of ‘87. Nothing in your life had prepared you for Robin, but somehow everything had begun falling into place. It all started with a movie and a pair of ocean-blue eyes, and suddenly you were dancing to a Jukebox in a long-closed diner, or racing down the length of a pier, swimming in the moon-dipped lake and walking her home down yellow-lit streets, talking about the way The Smiths sound like indigo and the best time of the summer is when the fireflies start to come out.

It was the summer of ‘87, and you were falling in love.

Word Count: 7k

Content warning: brief discussions of homophobia, shitty parenting

A/N: She/her pronouns used for reader, and she is described as being able to ride a bike but no other descriptions are given. Y/N used sparingly.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future chapters!

Fic Playlist!  Also on Ao3

Next Chapter  Masterlist

Chapter 1: Tango in the Night

"Hi, I'm looking for… uhm…" you took a shallow breath, eyes wandering across rosy skin dusted with freckles and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

You'd been searching for a movie for the past ten minutes, aware of every sound you made, every little shuffle of clothes or breath you took -- the need to cough for no reason at all suddenly squeezing at your throat. You had planned on asking the nearest employee if the store even had it to save yourself the struggle of scouring the shelves, but when you walked into Family Video a mere fifteen minutes before their closing time, you were greeted with… a girl. 

Not that you hadn’t expected a girl to work at a video store, it was just… she was a really pretty girl. Really pretty, and she'd smiled this gorgeous big smile as soon as you'd walked inside, and just like that your head had gone empty. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you act like a regular person? It shouldn’t have been that hard. 

But, after ten minutes of searching -- and with the store now closing in five -- you found yourself standing in front of said pretty girl and trying to form words. 

“I’m looking for ‘Innerspace.’ It, uh, just came out on tape a few weeks ago so you might not have it yet, I just figured I’d check.”

Your mouth fell closed like a tomb and you blinked at the girl across the counter. ‘Robin,’ your eyes flickered down to her nametag -- just her name tag, you tried to remind yourself. She was wearing a plaid button-up, the colors of leaves and moss and dirt, and she had a brown tie tucked beneath her collar. Oh god--

“Oh, right. Yeah,” she nodded, eyes wide as she stared back at you. Her voice was raspy and low and had you digging your nails into your palms. “Yeah, um, new releases usually go straight to the back for filing, but, uhm, we might have gotten it. I can’t remember off the top of my head, so let me just… you said it’s called ‘Innerspace’?”

“Yeah,” you felt your face heating and wrung your slightly clammy fingers together beneath the counter, mercifully hidden from view. 

“Ok, let me just--”

“I can go look,” a voice cut through the store, and both of you turned towards a man in a matching green vest who was leaning against the far counter with his arms crossed. You hadn’t even realized he was there. 

“You keep, uh, entertaining our customer, yeah, Robs?” he added, pushing off to head for a doorway at the back of the room. 

“Uh, y-yeah. Sure,” the girl -- Robin -- replied, staring after him for a second before turning back around. It was hard to think under all her shades of rosy pink and blue and brown. Her hair reminded you of a mouse. You tried not to wonder if it was as soft as it looked. 

God, it looked soft. 

Just like her cheeks, or the skin of her nose as she wrinkled it in a small wince before smiling at you. 

“Uhmm, we sell tapes,” she gestured to a small display of cassettes. “Some of these are new, too. I mean, I know you’re looking for a movie, but,” she made another desperate little flourish that had you grinning like a fool. 

“No, no, it’s good,” you quickly assured. Then, somehow, “Uh… do you have any recommendations?”

She opened her mouth, eyes searching yours for a moment before jumping into motion. Leaning over the counter, she dragged the display sideways so she could rifle through the tapes. You found yourself leaning closer. 

“Y-Yeah, I mean… okay, this one just came out a few months ago. Have you heard of Fleetwood Mac? I mean -- I mean, of course you have,” her brow furrowed, a line indenting the skin between her eyebrows. “They’re Fleetwood Mac, obviously, but… h-have you?” 

With the question, the wrinkle smoothed out again as she raised her brow to look at you. You nodded, and you knew there was a smile on your face by the one that spread across hers. She was encouraged enough to keep going. 

“I, uh, don’t really know if you like their stuff, but they just released this new album, Tango in the Night,” Robin groaned softly, her smile growing. “It's so good. And I mean, Stevie Nicks is, like, so…” she faltered a little, hesitantly glancing up at you before her smile grew a bit smaller, a bit softer. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling aren't I? I do that sometimes. It’s probably, like, a condition or something--”

You laughed brightly, clapping a hand over your mouth when you realized you’d interrupted her, but she was watching you through her eyelashes and grinning. 

“No, it’s… it’s good. I like it,” you added, not sure if you were referencing the tape or her rambling. “I like Fleetwood Mac. And Stevie Nicks is--” super hot “--Great. She’s great.”

“Oh,” Robin said, released in a little breath, almost a sigh. “Okay, well--”

“Hey,” the other worker popped his head out of the back room, offering Robin, and then you, a vaguely apologetic look coupled with a shrug. “Yeah, we don’t have it yet. Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Really,” you waved. “Thanks for checking.”

“Hey, sure thing. That's what I’m here for,” he smiled, grabbing the front of his vest. “But it’s, uh, no problem, about the movie. We can just take your number and call you when it comes in. Right, Robin?”

“R… Right!” she jumped up a little, head whipping around to look at him before turning back to you. “I mean, if you want to, that is. You totally don’t, if it’s something you’re, like, not comfortable with, or… I mean, we’re, like, an official establishment, so we won’t sell your information to the government, or anything, haha…” she finished with a laugh that conveyed how quickly she was losing confidence. 

“Sure,” you offered, trying to give her as encouraging of a smile as you could without rocking your own confidence. In the end, you had to glance at your feet under the beaming grin she gave in reply. 

“Great! Cool-e-o. Um, let me just,” ducking down, she rifled beneath the counter before reappearing with a flourish. Your smile felt like it was at risk of tearing your face as you took in the way her tie had gone crooked and her hair all feathery. 

Slapping a notepad onto the countertop, she gave you an eager grin before pulling a pen out of the breast pocket of her vest. You paused, momentarily forgetting your phone number in the most panic-filled two seconds of your life before giving it to her, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. You watched Robin jot down your number with nimble fingers and endearingly bubbly penmanship. 

“I like your rings,” you shyly stated, nodding to the silver jewelry that decorated her pale fingers. A simple silver band on her pointer, a wider piece on her middle, and a band with a pale blue gemstone on her ring. 

“Th… Thanks,” she whispered, glancing up at you, her mouth slightly ajar as she seemed to hold her breath. Then she jotted down the last two digits of your phone number and sat the pen down.

“Oh, and, uh… I’ll take this, too, if that’s okay,” you slid the cassette across the counter. Robin’s eyes widened.

It would take you nearly five minutes outside the now-closed Family Video to catch your breath. With your back pressed against the hard brick of the building, you felt a laugh bubble up your throat, rippling out into the evening air. With a small bag containing ‘Tango in the Night,’ you stepped onto your bike and thought about how sometimes not being normal paid off. 

________________________________________________________________

 “Holy shit, holy shit -- holy shit, Steve.”

“Quit freaking out on me, Buckley,” Steve warned, worried that the girl was actually going to pass out with how fast she was pacing through the rom-com aisle, her hands held out on either side of her, gesturing with every “holy shit” she uttered. 

“Okay, okay,” Robin shook her head, pressing her voice into something that vaguely resembled composure. “That wasn’t, like, anything, right? It was just a totally normal customer-employee exchange.”

“Robin,” Steve deadpanned. “That girl was full-on flirting with you.”

“Shut up,” Robin rasped, voice squeaking at a frequency that probably would have had the neighborhood dogs howling. “She was not, she was… Oh my god, she was. She definitely was…”

“Uh, yup,” Steve confirmed, brow lowered even though he was trying not to freak out himself. Robin didn’t have the best luck with dating, and Steve had just witnessed the biggest win she’d had in… ever. She’d even gotten the girl’s number. 

“Okay, but,” she continued, and Steve bit back a groan. “What if she was actually into you and was just flirting with me to get to you?”

“What-- that is literally not a thing people do, you dumbass. She was flirting with you.”

“Ahh! I don’t--” Robin groaned, hands reaching up to grab at her hair. 

“I mean, seriously, Rob. She bought the tape you were gushing about. She gave you her goodman number, for Christ’s sake--” 

“Yeah, because she wants fucking ‘Innerspace’ when it comes in. That’s all.”

“Look, I love you, but you’re being an actual idiot right now. She was totally checking you out. I saw it with my own two eyes,” he made a peace sign and waved it at his face. “And trust me, I know what it looks like when a girl is checking someone out.”

“Gross,” Robin winced, face screwing up miserably as she tried not to have a full-on crisis. “But still, even if she was, there’s no way I stand a chance. Like, there’s actually no way…”

“Well,” Steve began, the corner of his mouth bunching into a knowing smirk. “I guess we’ll find out once you call her to let her know that we’ve got, uh…” he turned away, looking out into the store as he reached around his back and pulled ‘Innerspace’ from the waistband of his jeans. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” Robin shoved him. “What the hell is wrong with you, dingus?”

“Hey, don’t yell at me, I’m just being a good wingman! A pretty damn good one, too, considering you wouldn't have even gotten her number without me jumpstarting your brain." 

Robin pushed her tongue into her cheek before running it over her teeth. She rolled her eyes, then smiled begrudgingly. 

“Do you actually think she was flirting with me?”

“Yes!” he said it before she’d even gotten the full question out. 

Robin took a breath, and then she brought the front of her vest up to cover her face and squealed softly into the fabric -- half excited, half panicked -- before throwing the material back down. Her hair was a frizzy curtain in front of her face and she was definitely a bit red. 

“Feel better?”

“No.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Steve tossed a rag at her. “Because we’ve got a store to close and I still have to drive your flustered ass home.”

He turned around, and Robin stared after him with her brow furrowed in contemplative annoyance. 

“I’m not flustered--”

“Are you shitting me?”

________________________________________________________________

You listened to the album as soon as you got home. Leaning your bike against the baby blue siding of your parent’s house, you raced into the kitchen to make a quick dinner before taking it to your room, the little plastic Family Video bag looped around your wrist. 

Your tape player was old. It had belonged to your mom before she passed it down to you, all worn and well-loved, decorated with a few band stickers that had long since faded to a pale, washed-up color. Even so, when you popped the deck and carefully put the cassette inside, that old, faded player turned colorful with life as the first few beats of ‘Big Love’ started playing. 

The echoey vocals of Linsday Buckingham hummed through the speakers as he sang “looking out for love," and your lips curled into a smile, sitting cross-legged on your bed as your mind filled with images of blue eyes and tawny freckles. How could you not think of her when she was the one who had recommended the tape? You tried to convince yourself that was the only reason. You knew it was the biggest lie you’d ever told. 

Leaning back against the headboard, you ate your dinner through a smile. When the next song whirred on, you reached over to your nightstand to grab the case, flipping it around to scan down the list of songs. You set your dish aside and laid back as Stevie Nicks’s voice filled your room with ‘Seven Wonders’.

“So it’s hard to find 

Someone with that kind of intensity

You touched my hand, I played it cool…”

Bringing your hands up to your forehead, you let them rest there, the coolness of your fingers not doing much to quell the heat that had started swimming in your head. You tried to consider the possibility that maybe the girl -- Robin, you tried her name out in your thoughts -- had been as nervous as you had for the same reason. You remembered the way she’d blushed when your hands had touched, or the way she'd laughed nervously as her eyes, so fucking blue, had scanned your face. Had she looked at your lips? Did it mean anything if she had?

“So long ago

It’s a certain time, it’s a certain place

You touched my hand and you smiled

All the way back you held out your hand

But I hope, and if I pray

Ooh, it might work out someday…”

Groaning softly, you dragged a pillow over your face, deciding that if your cold hands wouldn’t put you out, you’d just have to smother yourself. 

There was no way… was there? Like, no actual way that Robin liked… well -- would ever like you. Right? Most girls were overly friendly with one another; you’d figured that out a long time ago, after mixing up so many signals that you’d realized the way you liked girls was different from the way they liked you. That the way you felt about girls was… abnormal. At least, it had seemed that way, when you looked around. 

But… you couldn’t be the only one. You knew you weren’t the only one. You’d grown up, since then, and you'd heard about people like you on the news and in school. You’d seen what happened to the boys that acted differently than the rest of their classmates -- you'd heard what they were called. You’d seen other girls being called “dykes,” had seen girls ostracized from their friend groups out of the fear she’d spread herself around like some kind of disease. 

And sure, you’d seen how bad it could be, but that also meant that there were others out there who understood. That had to mean that there were happy endings for people like you -- it was just… happy endings felt so far away from the things that actually happened. It felt like something out of a storybook rather than something that could happen right here in Hawkins. Right here, where a pretty girl had watched you through her eyelashes and blushed when you complimented her…

 Was there a chance that Robin hadn’t just seen you as a friendly customer?

“No. No way,” you said it aloud, your words breaking through Stevie Nicks’ vocals. 

She was probably dating her co-worker. He was hot, right? He seemed charming, he’d called her “Robs” so they were obviously close. The sudden thought of Robin being with the man in the store made your chest tighten. You groaned again, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face into your sheets, trying to cover yourself up, trying to be swallowed whole because it had to be easier than thinking about Robin’s lips against his when you wanted them against yours. 

The tape whirred and clicked, and the next song started like it'd been sent to mock you. 

“Come on, baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon before you break my heart”

Well, at least she had a good taste in music. Yet another thing about her that was already driving you crazy, and you’d barely spoken to her for five minutes. You didn’t even know her last name -- and you only even knew her first because she’d been wearing a fucking name tag. 

Suddenly you sat up, pillow flying off of your head as you realized that--

“Holy shit. She’s going to call me…”

She had your number. She was going to call you when the movie came in. You’d have an excuse to talk to her again. Hell, she’d have an excuse to talk to you again, if she wanted it. If not, she could always get her co-worker slash potential boyfriend to do it instead. Either way, she had your number, and that meant there was a chance. A slim one, but a chance.

“Holy fucking shit,” you said it again, breathless as you grinned so hard your face ached, and fell back into your pillows. 

Maybe a happy ending wasn't such a reach after all.

________________________________________________________________

Over the next week, you listened to ‘Tango in the Night’ at least five more times. It was a good album, and you would have enjoyed it even without the added connection to the pretty girl who worked in the video store that you definitely weren't crushing on, no way. And every day, you waited for a call from her. Whenever you weren’t home, you found yourself worrying that you’d miss it -- hoping and praying that she’d call when you weren’t on one of your shifts. 

You worked at a diner that sat just along the edge of downtown Hawkins called Tiffany’s Kitchen. The owner, Tiffany -- who was also your boss -- was a sweet, tiny lady, thrice divorced, who had only recently opened the diner after Benny’s Burgers shut down in ‘83. She was new to the business, but everyone loved her -- employees included, of which there weren’t many. You, two of her children, both in their thirties, and another kid your age, both of you fresh out of high school with no college plans in sight. 

After graduating last year, your parents had encouraged you to apply to colleges around the state, but you hadn’t gotten into any of them. You didn’t really mind. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to leave Hawkins -- every kid your age wanted to leave Hawkins -- you just… weren’t sure what you wanted to do with your life. You didn’t know who you were yet, and college was something that you had no clue where to even start with.

Anyway, you were more than content working at Tiffany’s, making enough money that your parents weren’t completely horrified by your decision to stay in Hawkins -- and at home. You could contribute to the bills, and for right now that was the most important thing to them. For now. But rather than try and figure out what to do with your future as your parents so frequently encouraged, instead you were thinking about the girl from Family Video who you’d talked to a whole one time and who probably didn’t even remember that you existed. It was easier than thinking about college or a career, and it was infinitely more pleasant than thinking about the future. So you passed your days with daydreams of blue eyes and a pretty smile, and a Fleetwood Mac song behind every moment of bussing tables and taking orders. 

It wasn’t until the following Friday that anything happened. 

You were sitting in your room after your shift, trying to pass the post-dinner time without falling asleep too early, when you heard your father's voice calling over the sound of your tape player. 

“Hey, Doc! Someone’s on the phone for you!”

You just managed to crank the volume down before flying off of your bed, smiling at both his nickname for you -- which had come about thanks to the many Saturday mornings you'd spent watching Bugs Bunny with him when you were little, laying out on the carpet in your pajamas -- as well as the jolt of excitement that had just shot through you like lightning. And panic. Excitement and panic. 

“Yeah,” you yelled, coming to a sliding stop by the phone as your socks struggled to grip the hardwood floor. You grabbed onto the wall for support, then looked over at your dad. 

“Someone from some video place? Said you left your number…”

“Yep! Thanks, dad,” you grinned through his confusion, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions. He didn’t, wordlessly passing you the receiver, and suddenly you wondered if you might pass out. 

“Hi,” your voice was breathless, both hands coming up to hold the yellow phone as you watched your dad round the corner to the living room, out of sight. 

“Uh, h-hi. This is Robin -- from Family Video,” she quickly added. Her voice sounded even raspier through the crackle of the receiver. You were definitely about to fall over. “Uhm, y-you asked us to call when we got ‘Innerspace’-- or, I mean, we said we’d call you when we got it. Kind of the same thing, but, you know… anyway, it just came in.”

“Awesome,” you smiled even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Thank you again. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, pshhh, of course. Yeah, of course. No big deal. I mean, that's what we're here for, right? Haha… uhm…”

You wanted to say something, anything to get her to not hang up, but the silence that followed her voice was heavy with an almost anticipative breath, like Robin was working something out. 

“Um,” she started again, her voice growing soft. “I, uh, didn’t get your name…”

“Oh my god, you didn’t -- sorry about that. I'm Y/N.”

She repeated your name slowly, as if making sure that it would stick in her memory. You felt a shiver run down your back, your stomach fluttering. 

“Nice to meet you,” she softly replied. 

“Nice to meet you, too.” You turned sideways, leaning up against the wall and hugging an arm to your chest, cheek pressing against the receiver as you smiled.

“Um, okay -- look, I know this is probably, like, completely weird and strange, and, I don’t know, maybe even kind of creepy -- and you totally don’t have to say yes, or say anything, for that matter, but… Steve and I are going to see a movie tomorrow. The drive-in just opened back up again and it’s been forever since we’ve, like, actually watched a movie. Which is crazy because we work in a place that sells them, haha….”

You could practically hear her wince of pain, but you didn’t want to interrupt considering she hadn’t even asked you a question yet. 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come? Like I said, no pressure! But, uh… we’d love -- I’d… it’d be cool, you know, if you wanted to.”

At that very moment, you were doomed. Your brain had disappeared somewhere through the ceiling and out into the evening Hawkins sky. 

“I’d love to,” you were saying before you even had the chance to think about what that meant. 

You’d met her once -- what if this was some sort of ploy to murder you and dump your body in Lover's Lake or something? What if once she actually hung out with you she thought you were weird? What if she was expecting this to be some sort of double date? 

None of it mattered, though; not a single concern your brain could come up with. Literally nothing in the world would have convinced you to say no. 

“Great,” Robin breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, cool. Uhm… so, we could, like, pick you up at your house -- or you could meet us at FV and we could take you from there. We’ll be working all day so we’re gonna head out from here, anyway.”

“I can meet you there, no problem,” you replied. You heard her exhale a breath that was unsteady enough to be a laugh but hadn't quite managed to go all the way. “Uhm… who’s Steve? -- if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, no, not at all. Steve’s just my co-worker--” you heard a distant shout. “Okay, okay, he’s also my very best friend in the world -- happy?” she ducked away to call the last part. You gathered that Steve must have been listening. 

“Sorry,” you could hear her smile. “He’s the dingus that checked for your tape the other week. Stupid hair, even stupider smile. Dresses like a middle-aged dad who wants to divorce his wife but doesn’t have the balls to actually go through with it…”

You burst out laughing, quickly ducking your head down and throwing a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. You could hear Robin laughing, too, even as she yelled at someone on her side of the line. 

“I can’t drive, so he’s my chauffeur.”

“Cool,” you smiled. “Sounds like fun. Is… is there a time I should meet you, or…”

“Oh! Yes, uh… Steve?!”

 You heard a distant “Seven-thirty” before Robin turned back to the phone and said, “Does seven-thirty work?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” your chest felt tight all of the sudden. “I guess I’ll see you then?”

“Yes. Yep. Uh… see you then,” Robin’s slightly spastic voice replied, chipper and adorable, and that feeling in your chest grew to an almost painful degree. 

“O-Okay. Bye.”

“Bye,” she replied, her voice timid, followed by the click of the receiver. A busy single blared in your ears as you stared across the kitchen. 

“Hey honey,” your mom began, peering her head around the wall that separated you from the living room. “Who was that?”

“Just a, um… friend,” you replied. “Friends, actually. They invited me to go see a movie with them tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she smiled, big and a bit forced. “Kids from school?”

“Yeah,” you lied. Well, half a lie. Steve and Robin had to have gone to the same school as you, considering Hawkins only had one, but that wasn’t exactly how you knew them. Your mom didn’t need to know that, though. 

“Uh…” you set the phone back on the hook and slowly started backing towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Yell if you need anything.”

“O… kay,” your mom called as you bounded up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and nearly wiping out as you whipped around the railing and down the hall. 

By the time you reached your room, you were out of breath, but it only took you about three seconds before you burst into giggles, making the softest noises of excitement you could manage as you threw your hands over your face and shook your head. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit!” you whispered, grinning wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. 

You felt like your body was exploding in the best way possible -- like all your cells were vibrating at a frequency that made your head spin. You felt like you could have run for miles and still kept going

It was practically impossible to get to sleep that night. You lay awake, staring at your ceiling as your brain ran through every scenario that could possibly happen, both good and bad. 

Little did you know, across town Robin was staring up at her ceiling, too. 

________________________________________________________________

“So I’ve been thinking--”

“Jesus Christ, Robin, it’s literally eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Yeah, and? That means I only have eleven hours to make sure I don’t make a complete fool of myself.”

“Off to a great start,” Steve sarcastically replied. “Look, can your relationship crisis at least wait until we get to work,” he gestured to the car they were sitting in. 

“But that’s the whole point, Steve. We’re not even in a relationship yet, so I need to make sure everything goes perfectly otherwise she’ll think I’m a total loser or something and she’ll never speak to me again, and then I’ll have blown my latest and most promising chance at a happy relationship since that time I accidentally got gum in Sadie Elenburger’s hair in fifth grade.”

“Alright, slow down,” Steve interrupted, raising his eyebrows. “First of all, that’s kind of sad. Second, just… you know, be yourself--” Robin groaned “--And as long as you don’t chew gum, you’ll be golden.”

“Steve. This is not a joke.”

“No, I know,” he seriously replied, wondering how she was already so tense this early in the morning. “This shit��s gotta be bad for your blood pressure.”

“It is,” she affirmed, pulling down the sun visor and flicking open the mirror. She’d put a little extra makeup on today -- which for Robin just meant eyeliner and some faint glitter in the corners -- and rubbed anxiously at the skin beneath her eyes. “Ugh! I look like a fucking raccoon.”

“You look fine,” he tried to reassure her. “Nice! You look nice.”

She groaned again, sliding her hands down her face before slamming the visor back up. 

“Oh! And another thing I thought of--” Steve sighed “--You’re taking us, right, and then there’s her and me, so… how are we all going to sit inside your car without making it super awkward?”

“What?” he squeezed his eyes shut as long as he could safely manage before looking back at the road, wishing they would suddenly get abducted by aliens or encounter Bigfoot so this conversation could be over. Probably would have been less stressful for Robin, actually. 

Robin, who turned sideways in her seat to shoot him a frantically annoyed look because apparently he should have been reading her mind. 

“You’re driving, so if we both sit in the back it’ll be, like, mega weird -- like we’re being fucking chaperoned, or something--”

“Isn’t that what’s happening?”

“But if I sit in the front, that’s, like, rude, right? Because then she’s back there all by herself. But if I let her sit in the front, she’ll probably feel uncomfortable because it’ll just be you and her up there, and then I won’t be able to talk to her anyway, and then she’ll fall in love with you instead of me.”

“Woah woah, hey,” Steve hunched his shoulders defensively. “Why would she feel uncomfortable with me? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, Steve,” she impatiently replied. “It’s just, you know, most girls don’t like being thrown into a tiny little death box with some random dude they've literally only spoken to once.”

“And now you’re insulting my car.”

“Focus, Steve! This isn’t about you, this is about me and the very real possibility that I am going to absolutely blow this date and die alone.”

Steve froze, turning slowly to stare at her. 

“D…Date. You just called it a date…”

Robin stared back at him blankly before smacking herself on the forehead. Which didn’t stop Steve from grinning. 

“Look, just relax, okay,” he offered, voice softening. “We’ll just… I don’t know, we’ll think of someone to invite last minute. That way they can sit up with me and you can sit back with your girlfriend.”

“Seriously, don’t even joke about that,” Robin said, but there was a reluctant, albeit pained, smile working its way onto her face. “I think I’d actually explode if that ever really happened.”

“Well,” Steve smiled at her. “Let’s just get you through this date, yeah? And you can’t fucking do that if you give yourself a stroke by ten in the morning and I have to rush you to the hospital to be revived.”

Robin snorted, one side of her mouth curling into that smirk that she used whenever she was still trying to act annoyed with him. 

“At least wait until the movie so she can be the one giving you mouth-to-mouth instead of me.”

“Ew, gross,” her face screwed up, but they were both laughing now. However, by the time they arrived at Family Video, Robin was back on her panicked mission to invite another one of their friends along. 

Throughout the duration of the morning, Steve insisted that Dustin was absolutely not coming. They considered inviting Max before Steve remembered that she and her mom were visiting family this weekend. Lucas was a brief option before Steve shut that one down, too making a new rule that they had to think of someone over seventeen to come along. 

That left… 

“Eddie,” they both said, much to the confusion of the woman they had been in the process of checking out. 

“No. No way,” Steve insisted while Robin rang the lady up and gave her a smile and a clipped “have a nice day” before turning back around. 

“Please, Steve,” she begged. “You wanted someone over seventeen… he’s definitely over sevent--”

“I know, I know, I just… he’s Eddie.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And?... are you sure you want to risk him scaring your new girlfriend away.”

Robin groaned at the title, raking her hands over her forehead and back through her hair. 

“Well, it’s better than you awkwardly third-wheeling. Please,” she drew the word out, and Steve couldn’t stand more than a few seconds of her puppy eyes. 

“Oh fuck me -- fine,” he surrendered, throwing a hand up. “But you owe me one.”

“Right, yes. I owe you one. Hell, I owe you a million. Thank you thank you thank you!” she was practically bursting with a wired mix of nerves and excitement. 

Little did she know, across town, you were having the same problem…

________________________________________________________________

You’d woken early and spent the better half of the morning cleaning your room. If you didn’t do something, you’d just sit there; and if you just sat there, you’d come up with a million different reasons why this was a bad idea. So you blasted Fleetwood Mac and busied yourself with rearranging. You changed your sheets and tried not to dwell on your personal flaws that Robin could potentially find annoying. You vacuumed your floor and wondered if she’d ask you about the tape. 

You had just considered going through and rearranging your closet when you realized that you’d have to figure out what you were wearing tonight, and then you’d promptly flopped yourself onto your freshly made bed and tried not to scream. You’d be lucky if you made it to seven-thirty. Then, if you managed that, you’d be lucky if you made it to see the sun rise on a new day. 

It hadn’t crossed your mind that maybe you were being dramatic. 

When you emerged from your room for the first time that day, it was already lunchtime. 

“Well, look who finally decided to get up,” your dad said from his spot at the kitchen table, eyes never leaving his paper. A half-empty cup of coffee left a stain on the wood. 

“Been up for a while, actually,” you murmured. “Just cleaning my room.”

“Cleaning?” he asked, disbelieving. “D’you hear that, mom? She’s cleaning.”

“Mmm,” your mom hummed, turning around from the stove to glance at you. 

“Should get her to do the spare room, next. You’ve got all that extra junk in there.”

“Yeah, sure,” you dryly replied, your tone pinched but even enough to not get yourself into trouble. “Yeah, I’ll get to it at some point.”

You pulled some leftovers out of the fridge, heating them as quickly as possible before turning to head back up to your room. 

“See you later, I guess,” your dad called after your retreat, and you stilled for long enough to convince yourself that the whole situation wasn’t worth the guilt he had you feeling before booking it up the stairs. 

It would be easier to be around them if they didn’t criticize you all the time. Or complain about you to your face. It would be easier to spend time with them if they actually made you want to. You found your thoughts drifting back to Robin and her soft eyes, her eager smile -- that genuine way she had about her. Even though she seemed nervous, she wasn’t afraid to be herself. You liked that. 

And suddenly you didn’t feel so nervous anymore. Excitement at getting out, getting away from your life with someone like Robin, replaced your previous apprehensions about whether or not she would like you or the possibility that you’d make a fool of yourself. Because really, your parents were living lives that they would have said they were happy or content with, but they were really just as miserable as everyone. You didn’t want your life to pass you by so quickly that you woke up one day with a husband and a kid you didn’t even know you were pushing away, and a cookie-cutter life. You wanted to feel things. 

Robin had already made you feel things and you barely knew her. 

So whatever happened tonight, you were ready for it. The notion of it was exciting. 

You hastily ate your food and then stood in front of your closet like it was an amphitheater. Raking through rows of shirts and sweaters and pants and skirts, you tried to put the jigsaw pieces into something that resembled a respectable outfit. It took you nearly an hour of trying things on and immediately ripping them off before you circled back to something that resembled what you’d been wearing that day you’d gone into Family Video; they were clothes you wore often enough to be comfortable in, but also nice enough to give you a necessary boost of confidence. 

Now that you were dressed, you checked your wristwatch. A disappointing ‘two-thirty’ greeted you, meaning that you still had a little over four hours before you could even think about leaving. You flopped down onto your bed and began flipping through a book, trying to ignore the way your eyelids felt heavy and your head seemed to sink right into the pillow. 

A few hours later, you realized you’d fallen asleep when you were jolted awake at the sound of your mother calling you for dinner. Flying up out of bed, you quickly looked at your watch. It was only five-fifteen -- you had plenty of time. Descending the stairs, you greeted your parents with a tired smile that probably looked more like a grimace. 

“Well,” your dad insisted. “Where are you going, all dressed up?”

Immediately feeling self-conscious -- and fighting that emotion with everything in you -- you glanced down and then back up at him with a dismissive shrug. You liked the way you looked; an off-hand comment from your dad wouldn’t change that. Or, so you tried to tell yourself. 

“She’s going to the movies with some friends, remember,” your mom told him, offering you a plate and a smile. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you managed, taking your plate to sit down at the table. 

“You could borrow some of my makeup if you wanted,” she sat down next to you. 

“I’m alright, but thank you.” 

“You’re not meeting a boy, are you?” your dad asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip from his cup. 

“No,” you replied, shoving a spoonful of food into your mouth, wishing that this conversation wasn’t happening. 

“Good. No boys, remember.”

He thought he was being funny. Jesus. You hid your grimace behind your cup and nodded. 

“Yeah, ‘course, dad. No boys.”

If your father knew what you were really doing, he’d likely beg for you to spend more time with boys. Because, as often as your parents -- and other adults in general -- made jokes about how you should stay away from boys as long as you could, no one actually expected you to. It was all some grand inside joke that adults seemed to have; just because they were so unhappy with their own relationships, they thought it gave them the right to comment on what they believed your future one would be like. 

Because, in their eyes, you would marry a man by the time you were twenty-five and settle down, have a few kids, complain about your husband to all of your girl friends, and then retire. End of story. So, when they told you to “stay away from boys” as if it were the funniest joke in the world, they really didn’t mean a word of it. Why they said it, you couldn’t figure out. All you knew was that it made your stomach hurt. 

Because tonight, you hadn’t gotten all dressed up to see a boy. 

“I should finish getting ready,” you said after you helped your mother clear the dishes away. “I’ll need to leave in an hour or so.”

Bounding back up the stairs, you took a few deep breaths and tried not to completely freak out. You felt like you’d been slightly panicking for the past several hours, but now that seven-thirty was getting closer and closer, you could feel your anxiety cranking up to a ten. In the bathroom, you brushed your teeth, then used some mouthwash for good measure. 

You grabbed at your face, smoothing over your eyebrows and adjusting your shirt across your shoulders, momentarily wondering if it revealed too much skin around your collar before reminding yourself that it wasn’t like you were in nothing but your underwear, and Robin wouldn’t freak out because you were wearing a slightly low-cut shirt. It wasn’t even low-cut. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you said to the mirror, dragging your hands down your face, trying not to nit-pick the imperfections you were finding there. 

“Shut up,” you said to your brain. “Adds character. Yeah, sure.”

With a shake of your head, you spent another minute or so of nervous grooming before you locked eyes with your own reflection and tried to give yourself a final, desperate boost of confidence. 

“Don’t fuck this up,” is what you settled on, and then you were waving goodbye to your parents with the promise of being home by midnight. 

________________________________________________________________

Taglist:  @alonezz (you’re a saint for waiting so long, I hope you enjoy it <3)

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley #st #stranger things #ST fanfic #steve harrington #steve and robin #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

[sortofanobsession]

To Cry for the Moon (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)

Author's Note: I do not have dissociative identity disorder (DID) This is a fictional depiction of DID & characters are based on the Marvel/Disney's Moon Knight series. I own nothing. Title will be updated once I figure that out. This is my first attempt at Reader Insert. I've been thinking about branching into them for a while and I stumbled across this idea by @jupitersmoon167 (the original post I saw is here!) So the idea, some future dialog and honestly I've leaned so hard onto @jupitersmoon167 I'm putting the @ in here again.

Minors DNI

So as it goes, Y/N = your name, e/c = eye color. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader (It'll make sense eventually)

Word Count: 800+

Part 1 of a new WIP Series.

Series Masterlist

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Series may not be totally linear story telling (not this part but in the future), but time periods will be included when it comes up.

Critical Need to Know Information:

Reader is Ma'at (also spelled Maat), Ancient Egyptian Goddess of Truth, Justice, Balance, and Cosmic Order. As an Eternal!Reader has armor of rich earthy green tones with gold etching and accents. Golden energy wings form from the armor that gives the reader flight but, like with both Moon Knight & Scarlet Scarab allows her to protect others. Also creates feather-like projectiles that act more like knives than feathers. Reader is hired as a translator and tour guide at the British Museum and stays with Sersi and Sprite. Her coworkers joke about her likeness to the deity. A fact that Sprite finds absolutely hilarious.

Sprite gives reader a hard time because despite the short life span of domestic animals they usually kept either a cat: Egyptian Mau/Nile Valley Egyptian Cats/an Abyssian once in England and/or dog: Saluki/pharaoh hound/Thebes Land dog aka Baladi Street dog. Cat named Bas, after Bastet (Baast, Baset) the goddess. Dog named Noob, after Anubis because why not. Sprite would find it hilarious a bird goddess has a cat. LOL Like can you imagine Kingo or Sprite making a Bond/Dr. Evil villain reference and Reader just says they're jealous because they weren’t worshiped alongside such stunning/devoted animals. I use Bas the cat in this a bit so far. Just bear with me, it is a WIP. Now on to why you are really hear.

Part 1: The Meet Cute

Y/N always loves visiting the museum gift shop. She loves to see how commercially, and somewhat comedically, the designers of toys and trinkets depict her team and her fellow deities. She enjoys watching how Sprite's illustrious stories have become storybooks, animated tales, and all for purchase at the quaint gift shop. She is so engrossed in a new set of bookends when she accidentally bumps into Steven as he stocks the newest Ancient Egyptian-themed keychains on an endcap.

“I am so sorry,” Steven starts to apologize. “I should have-”

“Oh no, it’s my fault,” Y/N assures him and checks his nametag. “Forgive me, Steven. I…I get unusually single-minded when I hear there are new items.” She gently sets the eye of Horus keychain that he had dropped when she bumped into him on its designated hook alongside the matching ones. 

Steven’s brows go up as he takes in her accent. “Forgive me if this is rude but your accent…”

Y/N chuckles. “You can take the girl from the Nile, but you can’t take the Nile out of the girl.” Steven took a better look at her e/c eyes and tanned face. His eyes follow to the gold chain and finds it leads to a golden feather that rests beside her collarbone.

He looks back to find her eyebrow raised. His face tinting red at being caught staring. “I like your necklace, is that-”

“The Feather of Truth,” she finish for him. Her fingers brushing the symbol.

“A fan of Ma’at,” he attempts to recover. 

“Something like that,” she quietly laughs and smiles. Steven felt like he’d missed something, or that there was a joke he wasn’t in on. 

“Check her arms,” Marc says from the reflection in one of the shiny keychains. 

Steven gives a slight nod and briefly scans what he can see of her arms. Missing the momentary amused look at how he had to turn his head to try and see the arm nearest him and failed. He quickly comes up with an idea. He moves further down the aisle. She turns to follow his movements.

“So I’m sure you already have these,” Steven says as he holds up a magnet with a photo of the winged goddess on a temple wall in one hand and a more ornate golden one with the depiction of said goddess in the other.

“I have that one,” she nods, “but the gold one is new.” She spoke, reaching out for the shiny magnet, unknowingly giving him a better look at her arms. Y/N misses the way his shoulders relax and the minute shake of his head at his own reflection in a nearby display case as she takes in the details of the object in her hands. “You found my weakness.”

“Magnets?” Steven asks, earning a true laugh from her.

“Beautiful things,” she says with a wink. 

Marc stifles a laugh from the reflection of the case. Before Steven can try and respond he is stopped by Donna shouting.

“Steven! Stop bothering the actual tour guides,” Donna scolds him. “Get back to work.” Making Steven flinch and Y/N frown.  

“Sorry,” Steven starts again.

“No need to apologize,” the eternal grinned, smiling softly at the sweet man before her, and nodding towards the register.

“Yes, of course,” Steven nods.

“Oh, I assure you,” the former goddess states as she addresses Donna. “He was helping me find the newest trinket for my collection.” She lets just a bit of the authoritative look that she had spent centuries perfecting and using as she judged the hearts of humanity. Her gaze firm set on Donna as she spoke. “Or is that not part of his job?” Y/N tilts her head slightly and raises an eyebrow, a challenge. A move that would always earn an eye roll from her fellow Eternals. 

“It is but-” Donna started.

“Well, then he did his job wonderfully,” Y/N says, turning her attention back to Steven who has just been watching the entire conversation unfold. She holds the magnet out for him and he seems to shake himself and ring it up. He thanks her as he accepts the cash she hands him. “Thank you, Steven, your assistance was greatly appreciated.” She says as he hands her the bagged item. “You’ll have to let me know when you get anything new in.” With one last smile at Steven, and a stern look at Donna as she passes her on the way out of the shop.

Donna huffs. “Flirt on your own time, now finish stocking.”  

He nods as she disappears into the stock room. He can hear Marc laugh from the reflection of the glass top. “Oh don't you start,” Steven tells the reflected alter. 

“A magnet, really?” Marc grins. “A bombshell that actually likes this crap, and you get her a magnet. And still made her buy it.”

“Donna was right there,” Steven says. “I cannot go giving out free items to just anyone.”

“Not anyone, a coworker that winked at you. Steven, she winked and laughed. And-”

“And I need to get back to work,” Steven mumbled as Donna walked back out. 

#Reader Insert #Marvel Reader Insert #Eternals Reader #Eternals!Reader #Moon Knight x Reader #Moon Knight Reader Insert #Marc Spector x reader #Marc Spector x y/n #Steven Grant x Reader #Steven Grant x y/n #Female Reader #Marc Spector x Female!Reader #Steven Grant x Female!Reader #Female Eternal Reader #trying to tag as much as possible so people can block or track what they want #do I suck at this maybe but i am trying #To Cry for the Moon fic

[axoxtxhxh]

First Date with the Vets - Hange

Big shoutout to @chaotic-nick​ for making this lovely banner for me!

Overall Summary: I had this idea to do a first date with the vets and what it would be like. I am including Erwin, Levi, Miche, and Hange in this list. Each date will be different, but all of them will be set in modern au.

Check out Miche’s story here, Erwin’s story here, Levi’s story here

Pairing: Hange x Masc!Reader

Content: All fluff

Word Count: ~ 5,300

Summary: Reader is getting ready to close up his shop for the night and start his Friday night when just before it’s time to close, a familiar face walks in the shop. Will this change his plans for the night?

A/N: Here I am again, writing for a masculine reader. I hope I did okay :) I am also still trying to get better at writing Hange and because of that, I may make mistakes with they/them pronouns and other non-gender specific things. Please let me know how I can fix it if I’ve made a mistake. Thank you!

Also, I wasn’t planning to post this today, but you know what? I don’t care. Happy Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈

The clock on the wall continued to tick as slowly as it had been the last hour, each time you checked it, you swore it slowed down even more. You nibbled on your thumb nail again, tapping your fingers on the counter as you looked out the front window. It was one of those nights that felt cold, rainy and wet. The ground was wet, but it wasn’t actually raining. There were no umbrellas necessary, but you could still feel that rainy day mood.

The weather meant most people were either inside or at a café, trying to pull as much of the cozy feeling that they could. Not the best night to be at a bookstore. Especially an old bookstore without a café. You definitely mentioned this to your boss, but no such luck. It would have been a nice addition.

Normally Friday nights were quite busy and normally you loved being there. This Friday was a bit different. For once you had plans to go out and these were plans you were actually looking forward to.

Your friend had called you up last week saying she had tickets to an art show just down the street from where you work. It’s not that you were a huge fan of art, but you really liked the idea of being able to be out without having to get looks from people because you were alone.

It was the whole reason you loved living in the city. There were so many things you were able to do by yourself, but still have people around you. The was basically a dream for you being an introvert. Plus, it’s not that there was an issue finding someone to hang out with, you just preferred doing things alone. At least, you had yet to find someone you were interested in spending time with.

You checked the clock again. Twenty minutes left. You sighed and brought your thumbnail to your mouth again. It looked like the rain was actually picking up. More umbrellas were popping open and you watched the droplets of water roll down the front window. The rain wasn’t going to slow you down though. If anything, it meant there might be less people interested in an art showing and you could have the place to yourself.

You continued watching the rain droplets rolling down the window, periodically checking the time, until you recognized a familiar Starry Night umbrella. The walk of the person holding the umbrella was even more familiar.

It was maybe four months ago that Hange Zoe first walked into the bookstore. You were working that day, standing in the exact same spot. They had never come in the bookstore before, you were very sure of that because had they come in, you would have remembered them. Still, the second they stepped foot inside, it was as if they knew the place, as if it were their bookstore and not your boss’s.

At the time, you didn’t realize that anytime Hange came in, they would be searching for the most random and hard-to-find book in existence, but after about a month of that happening, you quickly realized that when they walked in, you would be having to place an order for them. You were pretty sure that’s what brought them into your bookstore in the first place since you ran a specialty bookstore. Still, Hange found a way to get you searching for books you had never even heard of.

The first book they wanted was a very old and very specific ethics textbook. You had no idea what they needed that for, but you knew you didn’t carry it in the store. They waited by the spinning display of sunglasses while you filled out the form. Yes, your boss decided to sell cheap sunglasses in the front as well as those keychain nametags, but couldn’t find a reason to open a café.

Your eyes kept taking glances at Hange while they tried on the most ridiculous glasses meant for the children that came in. You laughed to yourself as you finished filling out the form and called your boss over to sign the order form.

“What is it?” He asked, carrying a stack of books that you knew he was going to have you stocking later on.

“She’s looking for this book.” You pointed to the order form.

“It’s actually ‘they’.” Hange spoke so nonchalantly that you weren’t actually sure if they were speaking to you or to themselves in the star sunglasses they’d put on.

“Pardon?”

“I use they/them pronouns.” Hange gave a wide grin, peaking around the spinning display.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You had hoped your face wasn’t showing how uncomfortable you were feeling. You hated making mistakes like that. You hoped that they weren’t annoyed with you for that mistake. Based on the smile they had on their face, they weren’t bothered at all.

“No problem.” Hange was still smiling and there was something so contagious about the way they smiled. Something about the open-mouthed grin that made it seem like they were constantly half a step away from giggling that always got you to smile back.

“They are looking for this book.” You looked back down at the order form, still smiling. “I need your signature to order it.”

Your boss took the form and signed it, handing it back to you and you couldn’t help but stand there watching Hange trying on another ridiculous pair of sunglasses. This time, it was a Halloween themed pair with one square lens and one circle. It really was the stupidest addition to the bookstore, but that day was the first time you were happy that it was there. You laughed to yourself as you watched them try to realign the glasses in a spot they didn’t fit in.

“Mx. Zoe.” Hange looked up and skipped over to you.

“I will place the order today and for most books, they come in after a couple days, but since yours is quite specific, it may take a week or two.” You explained everything to them and gave them their receipt. “Please make sure you bring your receipt in when you come to pick it up.”

You watched their attention move from you to the receipt to the card on the table. They slowly reached up and picked up the card, reading the text and flipping it over.

“You guys repair old books?” Their eyes moved up to you and you nodded.

“It’s another one of our specialties.”

“I have a couple old books I’ve been scared to read because of how fragile they were when I bought them.” They put the card in their bag.

“There are some limits to what we’re able to fix, but if you bring them in, I can take a look.” You smiled widely, hoping to see them smile once more before they left.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” They flashed a wide smile and that time you actually did laugh. A laugh which you covered up with a cough and scratched your head, pretending to tend to something on your computer. You watched Hange walk out and realized you had something to look forward to.

The next day Hange came in with a crate of books. You smiled at the cuteness of the little huff they gave after setting the books on the counter in front of you. Your smile quickly dropped as you saw the books they had.

“Where did you get these?” Your eyes were wide. Most were books that you would never be able to get your hands on, order form or not.

“Lots of different places,” they explained as you reached your hands in to pull out the first book.

“Do you collect these?” You couldn’t take your eyes away from the books. They were in pretty bad shape, but the fact that they owned these was amazing.

“Some of them are books I’ve been wanting to read. Others I’ve read online and really wanted to own the original.” You could feel the smile on their face, but found it so hard to look away from the original binding.

“These are amazing.” You smiled, finally looking at them. They were just as excited as you and their smile widened even further.

“This one’s my favorite.” Hange reached in the crate and pulled out a severely crumbling textbook. “Vicki is in back shape.”

“You named your book Vicki?”

“It’s a Victorian era medical textbook detailing surgery of the time. What would you name it?” Hange explained.

“I wasn’t questioning the name choice, but the fact that you—never mind.” You chuckled to yourself. “Vicki is a great name.”

“Thanks, Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” “Your beard. It looks like it’s coming in nicely.”

“Thanks.” You rubbed your two-day old stubble, a little embarrassed that someone noticed you forgot to shave and a lot embarrassed that Hange seemed to like it. Maybe embarrassed was the wrong word. Hange never lingered though and just after complimenting you, they moved on to the next thing that caught their attention. In this case it was the receipt you handed them and they started signing.

“I imagine this will take some time to get through.”

“For this amount, it will probably take at least two weeks,” you started, “We are closed on Mondays which is when we get the book repairs done.”

“Like a vets office.” Hange smiled and gave you the signed receipt. “Spaying and neutering on Wednesdays.”

“Like a vets office.” You nodded, laughing to yourself at the connections they always made.

“I’ll see you around, Fuzzy.” They waved good-bye and walked out.

From that day, you always looked forward to any exchange you were able to have with Hange. It was always a good day when they came into the shop and each time they came in, they would stay longer and longer chatting with you about new books that came into the store or new books that they acquired. You often wondered what their apartment looked like considering how many books they talked about.

Seeing their smile as they walked into the bookstore on that rainy Friday night made you really happy that there was still twenty minutes before closing. Hange stepped inside and shook the extra water off their umbrella before bringing it inside. They threw the hood of their raincoat back and smiled.

“Heya, Fuzzy.”

“Hey, Hange. You here to check the status of that book you ordered?” You leaned over the counter and smiled at them.

“That, I am.” They took off their raincoat and you watched them fail at hanging it up a couple times before finally getting it to stay on the coat rack. “Please tell me you have some good news for me.”

“I do have some good news.” You watched their face light up in a huge smile. “It’s not about your book though. Apparently, it’s not supposed to rain all weekend.”

“I see what you did there.” They pointed their first finger at you and narrowed their eyes, quickly breaking it with a laugh. “Good thing I don’t get disappointed easily.”

“One of my favorite things about you.” Hange’s excitement for books always seemed to remind you of your own.

“Got anything good coming in?” They hopped up to sit on the counter next to where you were leaning, something the boss hated them doing. Hange always did it anyway and you found it incredibly endearing.

“Not this week.” You stood up straight, turning yourself to lean against the counter. “Most if it is stuff you already have.”

“Aw shucks.” They took the inventory chart from you to take a look. Another thing the boss didn’t like, but you found adorable. You watched the way their glasses slipped down their nose as they scanned over the list. “Not bad. You guys are actually starting to become a specialty store.”

You laughed loudly at their comment. Since the beginning, Hange was always criticizing the lack of textbooks that were offered in the store. Your boss liked to focus on rare fiction, but Hange loved non-fiction more than anything. Textbooks on ethics, medicine, dinosaurs, you name it. It was always the first complaint out of their mouth when they checked the inventory.

“I don’t think anyone’s collection will come close to yours.” You watched as Hange smiled shyly. It didn’t take you long to realize that no matter how much you tried to compliment how they looked, they never noticed it as a compliment. That is until one day you commended their commitment to building a library in their spare bedroom and the blush that reached their cheeks that day was on your mind for weeks. You always tried to find ways to flatter them through their achievements after that.

“Such is the life of a crazy professor.” They lifted their hands, palms up, in an expressive display and you laughed. “Any plans tonight?”

“I have this art show I got invited to.” You shrugged it off, not sure if Hange liked art so you didn’t want to seem too interested. “I uh… I’ve never really been into art, but this one seemed good.”

“That sounds like fun.” You watched them kick their feet lightly forward and there was a small voice in your head that told you to invite them to the show. You didn’t want them to feel obligated, but this was a chance to bring your work friendship to possibly something more. For all Hange knew, you lived in this bookstore.

You both heard a noise outside and watched as a little kid tripped on the sidewalk. His mom picked him up and kept walking.

“I hope he’s okay,” Hange whispered. You were pretty sure your window to ask them to the art show closed. It would be weird if you asked them about it now. You sighed.

“What about your plans?”

“Just going home. Maybe watch a documentary.” They’re just going home. Dang it. It would have been perfect for you to ask them. You tried not to beat yourself up over it and instead enjoy the short time you got with them before you would have to leave.

You were both laughing and joking as you normally did when they walked into the shop that you completely forgot to keep track of the time. You caught a glimpse of their watch and saw that the bookstore should have closed thirty minutes ago.

“Oh!” You jumped up. “I have to close up.”

“Oh man, sorry.” Hange jumped off the counter. “Here I am, just talking away.”

You moved to the back counter and flicked off all the lights and shut down the computer systems. Hange moved up front and you met them by the door as they put their raincoat back on and opened their umbrella. You locked up and turned to them.

“Well, enjoy your art showing, Fuzzy.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, not feeling as excited to go now that you didn’t ask Hange to join. “Enjoy your documentary.”

They nodded and turned around and you watched them walk through the crowd of people. You were going to turn around and start walking to the showing, but you couldn’t get yourself to move. You should have asked them. What a wasted opportunity. You sighed again before your feet started moving forward, not in the direction of the showing, but in the direction of Hange. When you realized what you were doing, you started running.

“Hange!” You called after them and ran even faster to catch up. They turned around at their name and looked at you, confusion crossing their face. “Do you… maybe want to come with me? I’m pretty sure I can bring a guest.”

The realization that you just asked them to hang out with you outside of your bookstore hit you quickly and your cheeks started heating up, your hand instinctively moving to the back of your head and you laughed at yourself. A smile also grew on Hange’s lips.

“I think I’d like to.” They nodded, putting their arm out for you. You closed your umbrella and took their arm with one hand and held their umbrella with the other. You reached for your phone to message Fenmore quickly.

[Fen, is there any way you can add a plus one for me at the art show? I’m bringing someone :) ]

[You have a date!!!]

[It’s not really a date.]

[At least I don’t think it is.]

[I don’t know 😩]

[It seems like a date! You both are in]

[Good luck!]

You stuffed your phone back in your pocket and turned to Hange and started walking to the art gallery. It wasn’t far, just a couple blocks away from the bookstore, but you couldn’t stop thinking that this was possibly a date and it made you so nervous which made the couple blocks feel like miles. When you did finally get to the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and walked inside.

“I think there’s a couple artists at this showing,” you said, reaching for a pamphlet. “I don’t really know much about many of them.”

“Me neither.” They smiled at you. “I may love studying, but art wasn’t really on the top of my list.”

You started with the first art piece in the pamphlet, standing in front of it and waiting. You tried to look around and see what everyone else was doing. This plan of getting to spend more time with Hange was becoming a fail because you had no idea about art. You didn’t want to say anything weird if they were liking it, but you really didn’t think you could just silently look at all these pieces. Honestly, some of them were weird.

“This one’s nice.” You turned to them and smiled.

“Yes, very nice.” They smiled.

“What’s it called?” You leaned forward to look at the information card. “Abandoning All Hope… ah.”

“Lovely.” Hange nodded and you swallowed hard. This was bad. This was really bad. You both moved to the next one, the artwork looking a little happier.

“This one looks bright.” You turned back to Hange and they read the title card.

“It’s called Basking in Sadness.”

“Jesus.” You rubbed your temples and closed your eyes.

“According to the description,” They started, “the artist was sick as a child and often had to stay inside. So when he would see sunny days and be stuck inside, he felt sad.”

“I suppose that makes it a bit better.” You scratched your head. “Still sad.”

You both continued and hoped that the art would get better at making conversation naturally flow between you both. It was weird how well you conversed in the bookstore, but now you were really struggling with what to say. You walked up and the next piece looked like a murder scene.

“Gosh, I really have no idea what any of this means.” You finally admitted. “Sorry, I’m really not as big into this kind of art.”

“Oh good!” Hange laughed. “I’ve had no idea of anything since we walked in.”

You look quickly to them and smiled.

“I thought the bench out front was part of the exhibit until I saw someone sit on it.” You both laughed and a man walked up to you with a tray and glasses of champagne. You turned to Hange and they nodded, grabbing a glass.

“Well, to having no idea what we’re doing here.” You held up your glass and Hange clinked it and you both drank quickly.

After the first glass of champagne hit, you started feeling a lot more comfortable. The artwork still made no sense to either of you, but you were having fun. When the man came back around a short while later, you grabbed another glass and another glass and another glass. Before you knew it, you and Hange were five glasses in and finally the art was starting to make sense to you.

“Wait, wait, this one. Do this one.” Hange stood next to the artwork giggling and you rubbed your chin.

“Hmm, it’s definitely about a mother.” You had no right to be as confident as you were when Hange looked at the title card, turning back to you with a surprised look on their face.

“A Mother’s Touch. How did you do that?” They couldn’t believe it. You grabbed Hange’s arm and pulled them next to you, pointing at the picture.

“You see all those swirls look like arms. Like a hug.”

“I do not see that at all.” They laughed. “Do the next one!”

You stood in front of the painting and thought about it, but your eyes kept drifting over to Hange. They weren’t looking at you which only made it harder to focus on the painting. If they could see you, then you’d have a reason to look away, but their eyes were glued to the artwork and yours were glued to them.

“There’s no way you’re going to get this one.” They leaned back up from looking at the title card and faced you and you quickly looked back at the painting. “No way at all.”

“Something with a snake.”

“How!?” They put their palm on their forehead and smiled. “Snake’s Path. How did you know?”

“Come on.” You laughed. “Let’s go to the next one.

“Wait, I’m getting more champagne.” They started moving towards the bar. “The one they’re passing out now is cheap. I want the good stuff.”

“Make sure you bring me a glass.”

“I’m bringing the whole bottle, Fuzzy.” You laughed and went to look at the next artwork while you waited. It was a short wait and you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir?” You turned to see a man standing behind you.

“Yes?”

“Is that your date?” The man pointed to Hange and you looked over his shoulder to see them at the bar. You started thinking about them being your date and it made you smile this time, your nerves from earlier completely calmed with alcohol. Hange was still at the bar and you watched them debating with the bartender. It really reminded you of how great they are. Hange never got scared of confrontation like you did.

“Yep.” You smiled proudly. “That’s them.”

“I’d like to let you know that she is causing quite the—”

“They. Their pronoun is they.” You corrected.

“Well they are trying to steal alcohol from the bar. We’re going to have to ask you both to leave.”

It took everything you had no to burst out laughing on the spot, but you managed to hold it in enough to make it to Hange and you both walked outside. Once outside, you both started laughing hysterically, holding your belly as you tried to catch your breath. It was nice outside now. The rain had stopped and it left the air fresh and cool which felt great against your heated cheeks. You both stopped laughing and looked at each other.

“It’s a nice night.” Hange smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming with me.” You smiled back, taking a deep breath.

“Anytime, Fuzzy.”

You didn’t want to say good night. You weren’t ready to leave yet. There really wasn’t anything else to do though. It was probably nearing eleven at that point and you weren’t sure if Hange had things to do in the morning. But you still didn’t want to say good night just yet.

“Do you want to go to the bookstore?” You asked without thinking. “We got a new shipment you might like.”

Hange smiled, a strange look in their eyes as they looked at you.

“You liar.”

“What?”

“I saw the shipment earlier,” they explained, “You showed it to me and told me I wouldn’t like any of it.”

“Oh, right.” You looked down, laughing at your ridiculous attempt to spend more time with them.

“But I would still like to go to the bookstore with you.” You looked at them quickly.

“You would?” You couldn’t hold back your surprised face at that.

“Lead the way, Fuzzy!” Hange linked arms with you and you both walked back the couple blocks to the bookstore. This time, the walk was a lot faster.

You unlocked the door and were about to step inside when you realized that Hange wasn’t with you anymore. It made no sense considering they linked their arm with yours. You leaned around the corner, looking for them, but they weren’t there. It was possible that they changed their mind, but they didn’t know how to tell you and just went home. That didn’t really seem like them though.

“Fuzzy!” You turned around and saw Hange running over to you with a bottle of convenience store wine and you both laughed.

“After you.” You gestured them inside and started looking for some cups. You only had a couple small dixie cups, but they worked well enough. Hange poured a glass for each of you and you tapped your cups together, spilling wine on the floor.

“So how many years before I get to walk into your bookstore?” They asked. At first you misunderstood, thinking they were talking about the bookstore you both were in.

“Ah.” You smiled. “I think it’s a while before that.”

Your dream of owning your own bookstore came up in conversation with Hange more often than you ever thought it would ever. They genuinely seemed interested in it and seemed to be your biggest cheerleader when it came to opening it. Normally when people would ask you about it, you felt rushed and like you were behind. Almost as if they were saying ‘you still haven’t opened it yet?’ but not with Hange. Never with Hange. They made it seem like you were right on track and your dream would be here sooner than you thought.

You looked over at them and smiled. It was amazing how pretty they were. You definitely noticed it the first time they walked into the bookstore last summer, but you wondered if you were the only one to see it. There’s no way. There was no way that someone as intelligent and funny and kind and so beautiful didn’t constantly get asked out. You must just be lucky enough to catch them on a free day.

“You know what Fuzzy?” You looked over at them as they spoke, their eyes still looking down at the empty cup of wine. “I’m glad you asked me to the art showing.”

They giggled a little to themselves, possibly remembering what a hot mess it was inside the gallery. Or perhaps building the courage to say what looked to be sitting on the edge of their mind.

“I don’t get asked to do much these days. Not since moving to the city.” Hange hiccupped and you tried to understand how that was possible. “But I’m having a lot of fun. Thank you.”

You weren’t really sure what to do. You really couldn’t believe it. You managed to smile when they looked up at you.

“It’s my pleasure.” You stared at them, maybe a bit too long, but you couldn’t look away. Hange’s eyes were lidded, tired from all the alcohol you both had. But seeing their drunken smile and hearing their small hiccups had your heart beating quickly. They reached forward and put their hand on yours and you looked down at it. “Oh! I wanted to show you something.”

You jumped up from the ground and helped pull Hange up with you. You walked towards the backroom and halfway there realized you were holding Hange’s hand as you pulled them behind you. It was so soft and so warm and you were thankful for the alcohol letting you do things that you normally would second guess at every moment.

“It’s up there.” You dropped their hand and did your best to reach the top shelf, barely touching the bottom of the books you wanted. “Maybe if you try.”

“We’re the same size.” They laughed.

“Oh right.” You were both laughing and they handed you a shoe and you grabbed it, trying to shimmy the books down. “Wait, whose shoe is this?”

When you turned to look at them they were smiling and you looked down at their feet and couldn’t hold back your laughter at their feet missing a shoe.

“Here, climb on my shoulders.”

“Great idea.” They hopped up and reached for the books. This time they were able to grab them and slowly pull them from the shelf.

Your balance was surprisingly good considering how intoxicated you were. You were looking up and focusing on making sure Hange got the right books. As soon as you saw them grab it, they handed them down to you, one-by-one, and you set them on the table next to you.

“Last one!” Hange placed the book in your hands and you set it down. They threw their hands up out of excitement and you finally lost your balance as they moved back and forth. “Oh!”

Hange started to fall backwards and you quickly bent forward, giving them a way to hop down as you grabbed them before they fell. You managed to catch your balance and Hange fell into your arms and you both fell backwards onto the floor, Hange on top of you.

Their face was so close to yours and you reached up to fix their glasses, smiling at them. You couldn’t help but notice how warm they were, how soft their body felt up against yours, how much prettier they were up close and how badly you wanted to kiss them.

“Hange.” You took a breath, not sure if you were going to be able to do it. “I’m going to kis—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Hange bent down quickly, pushing their lips against yours. At first your eyes widened from the sudden movement, but then when you realized what was happening, you slowly closed them, your arms moving around their back and up to their face.

You rotated your head a bit, trying to get a better angle so your noses weren’t smashed against each other and your tongue slipped out to brush against their lips. Hange opened their mouth and brought their hands to your hair, their long fingers delicately moving along your scalp and you sighed into their mouth. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and you couldn’t believe how good it felt.

Hange slipped their tongue into your mouth and you moved your hand to their hair. You had always noticed how silky and shiny their hair was, but feeling it in your hands was a whole different story. You rolled yourself over so you laid on top of them and Hange let out a gasp, pulling back so they could laugh at the sudden movement.

They really were so completely dazzling and you watched them, smiling yourself, until they stopped laughing and looked at you.

“You’re beautiful.” You brushed a hair out of their eye and smiled. “I suppose a stepladder would have been safer.”

“It wouldn’t have been as fun.” They wrapped their arms around you and pressed their lips against yours.

#First Date with the Vets #First Date with the Vets Hange #Attack on Titan imagines #AOT Imagines #SNK Imagines #Shingeki no kyojin Imagines #Hange imagines #Hange Zoe imagines #Hanji imagines #Hanji Zoe imagines #Attack on titan fluff #Attack on titan x reader fluff #AOT fluff #AOT x reader #AOT x reader fluff #SNK x reader #SNK x reader fluff #SNK fluff #Shingeki no kyojin fluff #Shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader fluff #Hange x reader #Hange Zoe x reader #Hanji x reader #Hanji Zoe x reader #x male reader #Hange fluff #Hange Zoe fluff #Hanji fluff #Hanji Zoe fluff

[awanderingdeal]

Summer Camp AU - Chapter 3 - Leo

Sorry about the wait on this one! Our darling Leo will be taking us through this chapter. 

CW: mentions of injury (minor)

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate. 

Thank you to my wonderful betas @bkfstclubmember and @fleetingpieces. 

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Leo had only been to summer camp once as a kid, and that had been back in middle school. It had escaped his memory how draining it was to meet so many new people, learn the layout of the site, and to keep track of all the rules he needed to remember. Between that, and the bruises littering his body from the evening of Dodgeball and Capture the Flag, Leo was exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. 

Regulus hadn’t crept back into their cabin until the early hours of the morning and had declined coming to breakfast in favour of more sleep. It meant that Leo was alone when he set his breakfast tray down at an empty table. He was only able to savour the quiet for a couple of minutes though, before the chaos of camp caught up with him. 

“Leo!” a boy said, startling Leo into looking up from his eggs. He recognised him from the game of dodgeball; he’d hit Leo square in the chest. Besides, it would have been difficult to forget that face. Cropped curls, a chiseled jawline and deep brown eyes. He’d cut his camp t-shirt into a low tank top. Leo noticed the scars, a slightly paler brown than the rest of his skin, peeking out through the oversized arm holes. He’d never seen anybody wear them so proudly before and it made him want to smile. Not only for the other boy, but for himself. Because if 13 year old Leo, heck if 17 year old Leo, had been told that one day he’d be in a place that would allow him to be authentically himself, and he’d be surrounded by others who understood what it was to be different, he never would have believed it. 

“Morning,” Leo had to glance at the boy's badge; he was awful with names. “Thomas,” he said with a smile. He’d only said two words to the boy yesterday, but Thomas seemed like the type who would be friends with anybody that was willing. 

“Call me Talker,” Thomas said, reaching out a hand for Leo to shake. “Please.” 

“Morning, Talker,” Leo repeated with a laugh, shaking the hand before shovelling more eggs into his mouth. 

Soon the table was full, and Leo found himself in a heated conversation about whether kindles were better than books. Somehow, that led to him lapping up James’ stories of previous camp disasters until Lily shoved her boyfriend and told him to stop scaring the rookie. 

The chatter was interrupted by the static of a microphone. Everybody, including Leo, turned towards the source of the noise. A flustered looking young man stood over by the buffet table, clutching his hands around the microphone so hard that his knuckles were white. James cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Go Loops!”

The man smiled and gave a nervous cough, but the encouragement seemed to work. “Hi everybody, I’m Remus Lupin. Most people just call me Loops though. My pronouns are he/him and I’ve been coming to this camp for the last two years. Clearly I didn’t suck too much, because they hired me as a medic this year,” he paused, his eyes searching the crowd. They landed on the man that Leo had met as Regulus’ brother the day before, and his smile grew wider. “I’m going to be leading the first aid training this morning, so if you could all be out at the pavilion in 15 minutes that would be fantastic...thanks.” 

The room fell silent as Remus set the microphone back in its stand and walked off, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Dumo as he passed. The hall soon erupted with noise again as people finished up their food and made to follow the instructions they had been given.

“Alright! Let’s go save some lives,” Thomas boomed, downing the last of his glass of milk and grabbing his tray. He’d only taken two steps before he turned back around and flashed a grin at Leo. “Nutty! I forgot to say. Dumo asked us to film some promo TikToks and your beautiful face would be great in it. You in?” 

Leo had no idea who ‘us’ was, but he’d promised himself to take every opportunity that this camp threw at him so he nodded, and gave a small, “Sure, why not?”

“Great, I’ll see you after dinner then,” Thomas said, walking off with a bounce in his step.

When Leo made his way to the pavilion, he was given a card with the number 1 on it by Remus. He didn’t know what it was for, but clutched it in his hand as he looked around for Regulus, hoping they had managed to wake up on time. He was relieved to set his eyes on them talking to June, a girl that Leo had met yesterday. She had been a bit intimidating, leaning against a tree, dressed in biker boots and a leather jacket that he later learnt had a bisexual flag stiched into back. However, she’d turned out to be extremely friendly and Leo relaxed knowing Regulus was in good hands. 

“Okay! Listen up, folks,” Remus called out. “Each of you has been given a card with a number on it. There is one other person with the same number as you. Please find them, they are going to be your partner for today’s training session.”

Different people seemed to have different strategies for finding their partner. Some decided to stay where they were and just shout their numbers. Others darted around asking each individual what their number was. Leo didn’t need to use either to find his. With his first glance across the crowd, he settled his eyes on a person holding a card with the number one on it. With a triumphant smile, he weaved through the other counselors quickly so as not to lose sight of his partner.   

“Hey, I’m Leo. I think you’re mine,” Leo introduced himself, glancing quickly at the nametag on Logan’s chest before looking up at his face again. The action had become almost habitual already. 

Logan peered from under the brim of his hat. He had deep green eyes that Leo swore were looking into his soul as they swept over the length of his body.  “Yeah, I suppose you are,” the boy said eventually. “My name’s Logan, but I guess you already know that. Pleased to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Leo mumbled quietly under his breath. He had promised himself that he wasn’t going to do the cliched ‘summer camp romance’ thing. After all, he’d just gotten over the ‘closeted jock’ situation and that hadn’t been fun, to say the least. He wanted to be done with men for a very long time, but it didn’t hurt to look, right?

Before Logan could respond, Remus had gathered their attention again and they got swept away with learning how to recognise and assist the injuries and ailments that they were most likely to see over the coming weeks.

“Merde!” Logan gasped, pulling Leo from his thoughts. He figured that he had wound the bandage too tight around Logan’s arm.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he apologised, trying to remove it as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?”

Logan frowned for a second, “I am fine. Why would you ask that?”

“Was it not too tight?” Leo asked, gesturing to Logan’s arm, a little confused. 

Logan’s features knitted into a tighter frown before he seemed to have a realisation. “Oh, non. That was fine. Perfect. I will never bleed to death with you around,” he said, gesturing for Leo to do the bandage again so that Remus could inspect his work. 

“Okay…” Leo hesitated, “Why did you swear then?”

“You’re the angel,” Logan grinned, and Leo just grew more confused. Logan huffed out a laugh. “I believe you met my boyfriend yesterday. Tall...although, not as tall as you. Red hair. Bit of an idiot.”

“You mean Finn,” Leo smiled, remembering the boy from yesterday. “Wait. Did you say boyfriend?” 

Leo had been one of the people allocated to defend his team's flag. His back was to it, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blue, white and pink stripes. Dumo had taken the opportunity to educate the counsellors on the flags of different identities before letting each team choose which would be theirs for the game. A timid looking blonde girl had whooped so loudly before her pale cheeks had turned crimson that it had been a unanimous decision for their team to take the trans flag. 

It had been eerily quiet for a while when three people came crashing out of the trees. Leo recognised two of them; a Russian boy who had insisted everybody called him Kuny instead of butchering his name, and Jackson Nadeau. They were both on his team.The person they were chasing was not. Leo glanced to his right, checking that there was nobody coming from that direction before he tried to intercept the intruder. Leo had thought he was fast, but they had easily whipped past him and Leo was left watching them run. He didn’t have time to call out between seeing the rock and watching them fall flat on their face.  

“Are you okay?” Leo shouted, forgetting the game as he ran over to check they hadn’t hurt themselves too badly. He was worried that they weren’t moving, but just as Leo kneeled down, they groaned and rolled onto their back. 

“Shit,” Leo said, taking in the blood dripping down the pale skin. “Hey, I’m Leo. Can you tell me your name?” Leo asked, already knowing it was Finn from the name tag, but he wanted to check that the boy knew himself. 

“Fi-Fish,” the red haired boy slurred, blinking rapidly. “Am I in heaven?”  he asked, reaching up to cup Leo’s face.

“No, you’re at Camp Gryffindor. Not quite heaven, but pretty close,” Leo gave a nervous laugh. “Just stay still. We’re going to get somebody to help you.”

“You look like an angel to me,” Finn whispered, making Leo blush. He gave a little cough before looking up at Kuny and Jackson, who had joined him at Finn’s side. “Can one of you go and grab a medic, please?”

Leo had been meaning to check up on Finn. Both because he had been worried about him, but also because he hadn’t been able to get that red hair and those freckles out of mind all night. Finn was beautiful, of course he had a boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” Logan nodded, his smile widening a second. “My boyfriend who apparently met an angel last night. He’s not wrong.”

Leo scratched at the back of his neck before continuing to wrap the bandage around Logan’s arm. “How is he?” 

“He’s fine. He’ll have a headache for a few days, but Lupin fixed him up,” Logan reassured. He hummed and pulled at the grass with his unoccupied hand. “Wouldn’t shut up about the blue-eyed angel called Leo though. I tried to make him stay in bed today, but he insisted you were real. Seems you are.” 

Leo thought his face was going to permanently take on its new shade of pink with the amount of blushing he was doing. “Isn’t it weird for you? Your boyfriend calling me an angel?” 

Logan shrugged, “Non, he didn’t lose his eyesight just because we got into a relationship. Besides, I trust him.”

Thankfully, Remus chose that moment to join them, praising Leo’s work and making a few comments on how it could be made a little better. Once he had gone, Logan began to tell him about his life growing up in Canada as if the previous conversation had never happened. Leo wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or frustrated. 

In return, Leo told Logan about the cooking classes that had led him to applying to work in the camp kitchens that summer. He found that Logan was actually a good listener, and nearly ended up spilling the details of the drama that led him to taking those classes as a replacement for the hockey games he was due to be playing. Another time maybe. Leo wasn’t going to think about how much he hoped there would be another time. 

The rest of the morning session seemed to fly by after that, and soon Leo found himself saying goodbye to Logan in order to find Regulus for lunch. 

“I’ll see you around,” Leo smiled.

“Sure thing, mon ange,” Logan said easily, and Leo tried not to read too much into that.

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #logan tremblay #leo knut #finn o'hara #natalie darcy #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #Sergei Ivanov #sirius black #remus lupin #noelle tremblay #thomas walker #alex o'hara #kasey winter #James Potter #lily evans #Dima Krupin #regulus black #Rating: M #minor inury

[elfradfem]

my gram and i were just at a bookstore and the nametags they were wearing had their pronouns on them, and after we left my gram pointed out that she thought it was really inappropriate that they had pronouns on their tags because she thought corporations don’t need to know that information about you.

and 100% I agree. Back when I was first getting jobs, it was always ‘don’t give out personal information to jobs, know your rights, it’s none of their business’. But now jobs will just straight up ask you what your pronouns are, I have literally had interviewers ask for my pronouns, which I debated throwing out some silly bullshit and seeing how long it took them to realize I was fucking with them. Personally I don’t think it should be any of your work’s business if you are same-sex attracted or have dysphoria/are just a run of the mill kweer, simply because your personal life is not anyone else’s business, especially when it can be used against you.

I have several coworkers who use he/they pronouns, and you know what I guess if they want to discuss that with coworkers, it’s fine. But they have these huge he/they buttons on their uniform and I’m like. Sorry but I just don’t think that’s other people’s business, and secondly why does it matter if the person you’re ringing through knows your pronouns or not? When are they ever going to be using them? Pronouns are used to talk ABOUT you and not TO you. Like wow it’s so important that I know the person making me a fucking pink drink at Starbucks uses they/them pronouns.

Also, these people argue that it’s because they want you to ‘perceive’ them a certain way like they don’t want to be perceived as a girl if they use they/them pronouns, but again. People’s perceptions of you most of the time don’t involve you. Who cares if the person whose fucking books you’re checking out doesn’t perceive you as your ‘gender’. They personally have nothing to do with you. It just seems so mentally ill and narcissistic to me to be so obsessed with controlling others’ perceptions of us.

#terfs do touch #radfems please touch #radical feminism #terfs do interact #radical feminist #feminism #radfem safe #radfems do touch #radfem #gender critical

[cloudycrystalkpop]

L.U.C.K.Y. | Mirage

pairing: Baekhyun x doctor! reader

summery: L.U.C.K.Y au | the same old same old. over and over again, everyday seemed the same since you’d began work there. maybe you were to used to the routine that things began to slip from your judgement.

warnings: tecnically male reader, but pronouns aren’t used.

words: 1k

~

the click of your pen brought a smile to your face. admittedly the feeling of going round and round in this place can get a little boring, but at least you could always fall back into the same pace as usual. 

you glanced down at your notes, before squaring your shoulders and scanning your nametag, the door to your Subject’s cell opening. 

he slowly raised his head as you entered, eyes following you like a hawk. you whistled absentmindedly as you walked, placing your paperwork down, and beginning the same routine. 

Subject 12 was still as you finished up. his muscles flexed in his binds. he watched you with a gaze that dripped poison. you tisked as you wrote the last of your notes.

“don’t glare at me like that, you brought this on yourself.” you smirked. Subject 12′s knuckles turned white, never moving his eyes from yours. 

“what’s wrong?” you taunted. “cat got your tongue?” you flicked at the heavy mask that covered the bottom of subject 12′s face, rendering him completely mute. he didn’t try to struggle, just continued to glare at you.

you knew his game by now. he wouldn't lash out. he’s to pacent for that. he’ll wait until someone makes a mistake, and then he’ll attack. that’s why you don’t let anyone near him. you can’t have him getting out of those restraints, can't risk someone else making even the smallest of mistakes.

“glare all you want buddy, we both know how this ends.” you gathered up your papers, flashing a triumphant grin over your shoulder, before leaving subject 12 in complete darkness.

~

“hey B.B.~” Subject 04 purred, tugging at the chain around his left wrist. “won’t you let a guy get some fresh air?” he batted his lashes at you. 

you chuckled at the flirty man’s antics, quirking a brow at him.

“it seemed Doctor X. and Doctor C. think you got enough fresh air yesterday.” you commented, pulling out a fresh piece of paper. 

“what doya mean?” 04 whinned, continuing to pick at the chain around his wrist. 

“you were witness to what happened between Subject 61 and Subject 99.” you began. “can you recount what happened for me?” you flashed the man a smile, clicking your pen and making yourself comfortable. 

“ah, that little... scuffle.” 04 tapped his chin, thinking for a moment. “and, what do i get if i tell~” 

“you get to not be shocked.” you didn’t even bother to look up from your notes. 04 fell silent at your threat, continuing to tug at the chain. “you can keep trying, if you arn’t careful, it will go off-”

your second threat was interrupted by a shriek from subject 04. the muscles in his left arm contracted, his face scrunched up at the painful current pumped into his arm. he whimpered when it finally went away, pulling his body into a small ball. 

“well, i did try to tell you.” you clicked your pen once more, looking expectantly at the man curled up on the floor.

“...you drive a hard bargain Doctor, but i guess i’ll spill.” 04 swallowed hard, before turning to you, the playful glint back in his eye. 

you quirked a brow at him expectantly. 

“you see, that hot headed giant, is pretty easy to piss off, that's well known. anyway, he’s minding his own business, when snow queen scoffs at him. i can’t remember exactly what he was talking about, but he called hot head impulsive. which, is true. but anyway, hot head gets a little, heated at being roasted like that,” 04 pauses a moment to snicker to himself.

you move to reach for the button that controls the electrical shock in his cuff. 

“WAIT! wait- okay, anyway, so before hot head even lunges at him, snow queen is already charging him. being the good, cooperative person i am, that was when i signalled for the guards. i was able to talk down hot head, while snow queen is kicking and screaming against the guards. until they stuck him that is.” 04 finally finished the story, looking at you expectantly. 

you clicked your pen, taking a moment to reread your notes. 

“everything, check out B.B.?” 04 cranes his neck to try and make eye contact with you. closing your notes with a snap that causes 04 to jump, you stand to your feet. 

“lovely. thank you for your cooperation 04.” the Subject’s face drops at your words. most of the subjects hated being referred to by their numbers, but it didn’t really matter. 

“uh, hey Doctor, if that's all, could i make a request?” just as you are turning away, 04 speaks up. you let out a hum to show you are listening. “could you tell me... is that sheep still around?”

“you are referring to Subject 10.” you clarified. in your time spent as 04′s doctor, you had become used to his nicknames for everyone. 

“...yeah.” he confirmed.

“no. he was terminated two hours ago. notices were just sent out.” you answered. 

“t-terminated? why?” you rolled your eyes at the fear and heartbreak in 04′s voice. 

“that’s classified.” you shrugged, stepping out of his cell, and locking the door behind you.

~

“Doctor B.” you raised your head at the level feminine voice that spoke.

“yes?” you looked up from your laptop to spy Doctor S. she stood just to the side of your desk, tablet held to her chest. 

“did you get the notice about Subject 10′s termination?” she asked. you nodded in reply. “do you know if they released the reason? or if the subject is being sent to autopsy?” 

“i’m afraid i don’t know.” you replied, glancing up at the frowning woman.

“they didn’t send out any other information?” she pulled out her tablet, pushing her glasses further up her nose and tapping a few things. 

“i believe everything else is level 5 clearance.” you shrugged. 

“i see.” her voice was still confused, but she quickly moved on. “thank you Doctor.” 

“oh, before you go, would you mind handing off some copies of my notes to Doctor X. and Doctor C.? my shift is almost up and i still need to type up my report.” you offered the woman a smile as you handed her the two copies. 

“...of course.” she replied dryly. 

“thank you so much, i really appreciate it.” you nodded to her, before turning back to your work and dismissing the woman.

#l.u.c.k.y. au #lucky one au #exo #exo au #byun baekhyun #baekhyun au #exo x male reader #exo x reader #baekhyun x male reader #baekhyun x reader #doctor b #exo drabble #baekhyun drabble #exo series #baekhyun series #exo scenarios #baekhyun scenario

[muggle-writes]

Stretch Thursday

Prompt: "In front of the protagonist, the grocery store clerk just packed several large glass bottles on top of the eggs. The protagonist hears them crack."

Constraint: write in first person

(I vaguely knew how this was going to end, but everything between the first paragraph and the actual prompted moment, and then most of what came after, surprised me on its way out of my fingers.)

Gods above, could this checkout line move any slower, I wondered. Sure, there were only two people in front of me, but the haughty swaggering lump of a human being in front was questioning everything, in search of a nonexistent bargain:

(readmore should be right here but it's not hey tumblr please build a functional app ever maybe?)

Why didn't you accept this week-out-of-date coupon? Why did that coupon only apply to one package of frog eyes, not four. Are you sure this naga skin rucksack isn't on sale? I'm pretty sure the sign said it was on sale. (the leather shoulder bag in a similar size was on sale.)

The poor clerk - Ashley, their nametag said, a pin on the lanyard instructing people to use She or They pronouns - was the only person on checkout duty in the early afternoon. She seemed flustered, but answered every single question in the same patient, even tone of voice.

I wouldn't be able to do that. Actually, when I worked in retail, I got fired from three different jobs for intimidating customers when they started acting like that. Like just because they cleared out a nest of giant rats on the outskirts of town or prevented a band of goblins from establishing a camp in the caves just across the river, that they're entitled to luxury and hero worship, or at least special privileges, from the rest of us. Thank goodness I finally got a job with the local theater, my talents in projecting illusions finally celebrated for dressing the actors up with "no effort" (on the part of the makeup team, not that I don't stretch my magic as far as it can go and then some every night at rehearsal and for hours at a time eight days straight when our shows are open to the public, to turn the bright-but-plain frocks into resplendent ball gowns and every other bit of nonsense that was asked of me). And that's so much better than when I was viewed with suspicion by peers and teachers alike because apparently creating tiny intangible dragons or silent fireworks and lying about my character are the exact same thing, who knew?

I reeled that train of thought back in. There was no need to be bitter about high school bullies considering I'm now living the (pre)Broadstreet dream, and most of them... Well, even the "successful" ones still work ten hour days at tedious office jobs to keep the heat on and the wards up.

The one thing that bitter spiral was good for was that by the time I forced it out of my head, Ashley was calling "have a nice day, Sir" in the same perfectly-bland tone at Mr Cheapskate as he stalked off, carrying three bags on each arm and leaving his cart half-blocking the checkout lane.

He nearly got blown off his feet as he stepped from the store's heat and calm across the ward line, a generous two feet outside the door, into the frigid wind the meteorologists were calling a sneak peek into the blizzard that should hit this weekend. Good riddance.

I met Ashley's eyes as they tapped the rune to pull the items on the conveyor belt forward. I rolled my eyes sympathetically at her forced smile and dead-exhausted eyes. (Not literally dead! Apparently my brain was stuck in high school again because I could almost hear Mrs Primfoot growling about teens and their inability to describe things accurately. Come on. The zombie revolts in Rhodesia were fifteen years ago, and hyperbole is hilarious. Do people just lose all sense of humor when they turn 30?)

Ashley didn't roll their eyes back, she probably worried about losing her job over disrespecting customers in front of other customers, but their lips twitched and their smile seemed a little less stiff.

"Just these two things?" Ashley asked, with professionally-faked curiosity, picking up a large carton of eggs to scan them. "Eggs and milk to wait out the blizzard?" Eighteen goose eggs was a bit much for waiting out a two day storm, even for a bigger family, but some people liked to overprepare. Gods knew I'd seen weirder purchases when I had to check people out. I'd seen weirder people too. This woman, with her sapphire blue, floor-length dress and gray roots belying her dark brown hair, appeared absolutely normal, even with her curls adding at least two inches in height, making her appear barely shorter than me.

"Those are golden goose eggs," the woman corrected her in a syrupy sweet tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Ashley's eyes widened - probably in recognition because they'd been too professional for anything else, but I wouldn't have blamed her for expressing horror. The only customers worse than the adventurers who thought they were better than everyone else, were the governor's many cousins, who were obscenely rich through none of their own effort and not only thought they were better than everyone else but that we were all too naive to understand that.

"For my sweet niece's fourth birthday," the woman continued as though it were obvious.

I couldn't hold back a snort and immediately faked a coughing fit so she wouldn't turn and lecture me in that same patronizing tone.

Even if a dozen golden eggs wouldn't cost me over a month's wages, the yolks, with the flakes of gold leaf suspended throughout, gave them an awful texture no matter how you prepared the eggs, and they inevitably tasted metallic. No toddler would appreciate that, not even if she was already spoiled so rotten as to only accept the priciest of gifts. Well, if the kid was allowed to smash the eggs raw and then go "panning for gold" she would probably have a blast, but something about this woman's perfectly symmetric makeup, smooth, manicured nails, and shockingly hairless arms told me that she would accept nothing less than the most picture perfect cuisine, which meant she was likely to boil the golden eggs so she could present them, polished to the classic shine.

Regular egg yolks turn chalky and disgusting when you boil them, boiled golden eggs are infinitely worse.

Ashley didn't respond beyond a mild "ah, of course" as they efficiently double-bagged the eggs and set them aside.

The woman made a vague disgruntled noise in the back of her throat, but didn't say anything.

Ashley reached for the next item, the package of six tall carafes that I was now sure were something other than plain milk. Sure enough, when Ashley picked up the package, their hand moved in an arc, as though the carafes weighed less than they expected. The additional height caused the yellow light from the enchanted ceiling to dance across the bottles, drawing my eyes to the anti-theft runes stamped on each one.

Suddenly I recognized them. If I were going to blow an entire paycheck on luxuries, I certainly wouldn't buy the two or three golden eggs I could afford with that amount, but I might splurge on a set of these corruption-identifying bottles. They were supposed to be equally good for home canning, for jams and pickles and the like, and for potions. the not-quite-clear, milky white glass promised to turn sickly green if the contents of each bottle went bad, or if poison was added, intentionally or otherwise, or if the properties of the potion inside changed even if it was still safe to drink.

As Ashley was starting to tuck the bottles into a new bag, the woman cleared her throat. "Dearie, I'm sure those will fit in with the eggs. No need to waste another bag."

Ashley hesitated. "Ma'am, it's Magemart policy to bag fragile items separately and"

"It's fine, it's fine," the woman interrupted. "There's only two items, and I don't need all this extra plastic.

"Of course, Ma'am," Ashley agreed, monotone. They opened the top of the bag of eggs, which had folded itself shut.

As Ashley tucked the bottles into the bag with the eggs, I thought I heard a sharp clink, like glass on glass. Odd, but whatever. maybe one of the bottles is loose in the package. and ran into another.

"This is your total," Ashley said, straightening up and indicating the display. Either the lack of reading the final price was another breach of policy or there was a clause in the policy about not reading numbers with more than four digits aloud. I don't remember exactly, my own job at the Magemart closest to my apartment lasted barely three days, the shortest of any of my retail jobs.

The woman swiped her credit card, and was just tucking it back away into her wallet when one of the carafes exploded with a tinkling crash that seemed to echo for ages. I flinched at the sudden noise, and Ashley jumped back with a yelp, unflappable facade forgotten.

We all looked at the fluorescent green shards for a moment. I couldn't quite believe my eyes - either I'd badly misunderstood how CI bottles were supposed to work or there was something really horrendously wrong with those eggs. Besides just being golden goose eggs I mean. All of the other bottles had dangerous green cracks spreading throughout, and another looked like it might fall apart into thousands of shards like its fellow at the slightest provocation.

Almost before I had processed what I was seeing, the woman had rallied enough to shout in Ashley's face, leaning over the counter. "What the devil did you do?"

Ashley cowered, silent tears building at the corners of her eyes. They still looked stunned, frozen in place.

"Hey!" I shouted, feigning confidence and trying to get in this woman's face to protect a fellow cashier. She ignored me. "You were the one who told them to put everything in one bag!"

That got her attention. It wasn't quite what I meant to say, but I was having trouble figuring out what I meant to say, and that slipped out in the meantime.

"And you want to defend her for what? Selling me defective goods?" the woman demanded, equally happy to yell in my face. At least I'd kind of gotten into this knowingly. "CI bottles don't work like that! Or if this is some new function, then that means these golden goose eggs are poisoned or spoilt and they shouldn't be selling them to me!" she insisted.

"What do you expect her to do?" I asked, meeting her continued shouting with a tone that I would call 'panicked' but that Sierra once called 'dangerously quiet'. "How should she have known? Is she supposed to spend her shift finding any magical item that might interact with other things, and taking it around to set it on every other item it might possibly be bagged with, to make sure there's no unexpected interaction? Should they be doing that instead of checking people out, while they're on the clock?" I tried to make the scenario obviously illogical but I think I rambled too much to get the point across.

The woman only squinted at me for a long moment before putting her nose half an inch from mine and shouting even louder than before, "I! Want! A! Manager!"

I wiped spittle off my face, and she stamped her foot, which seemed to be the impulse needed for the second and third bottles to shatter, with another echoing crash.

Someone in line behind me muttered about a manager, before rushing off. ...Probably. I didn't exactly turn to look, with the woman still glowering in my face. Hopefully they ran off to get a manager who would take this belligerent lady out of my and Ashley's faces.

Fortunately, that's exactly what happened. A manager showed up to talk to the woman right around the time she started making threats, and Ashley and the line of people waiting to check out shuffled over to a new register without glass shards everywhere.

We all kept our positions in line, so it was finally my turn to check out. My heart was still pounding from the confrontation as I handed Ashley the bag of moonstone chips to scan.

They offered me a weak smile. "Illusion magic? Isn't that really hard to learn?" Ashley asked, with a tiny but genuine spark of interest in her eyes.

I nodded before I fully processed the second question, already fumbling for my company credit card. "I work hard at it," I said, stretching the truth a little. I certainly didn't have the usual trouble developing the basics, but I push my limits near-daily at the theater and stumbling out of my comfort zone proves to me that I can do more.

"Will that be all," Ashley asked, but tapped the appropriate button on the register before I could reply, my card already poised over the place to swipe it being answer enough. "Your total is 10.53," she said, the next line in the cashiers' script that I still unfortunately have memorized.

They skipped the part of the script asking me if I wanted a receipt, just grabbed it when it printed and scribbled a quick message on the back of it, before finally presenting it to me, holding it out with the handle of the plastic bag with my moonstone inside. "Here is your receipt Ma'am."

I grabbed both, gently, and before I could pull my hand back to look at the message, she flipped her hand over to grab mine.

"Hey.... Thanks," they murmured, then let go.

I flashed her what was either a reassuring to smile or a pained grimace. Hard to tell from inside my own face. "Cashiers ought to be allowed to yell back at people like that," I said. "I'm glad I could get her attention off you."

Ashley opened their mouth to respond but the person behind me in line cleared his throat, and she turned to him, professionally flat expression back in place.

I flipped the receipt over to read what Ashley had written. It was her phone number and the message

I get off at 5. May I treat you to coffee?

I pulled out my phone to text her a yes, and fumbled putting the basket back into the stack for future customers twice before I paused typing long enough to focus on putting the basket away.

I wasn't really bothered by my klutziness. For once my hot head earned me a hot date instead of a hot mess.

#stretch thursday #well i started this on thursday after work #feedback tentatively accepted #muggle writes #muggle originals #writing from prompts #long post #i've tried to add a readmore but they don't seem to work on mobile #i'm not so certain about the ending but i needed to be done #listen it's 3am and I need to be done proofreading and I'm 95% certain there were more things I wanted to fix and I can't find them #if you think I didn't fullfil the prompt please read the prompt again i made sure to quote it directly #hmm what's the tumblr magic key to skip a post? #press j to skip #? #k and j are up and down in vi but there's no guarantee it's the same here #also that still only helps for people on desktop who presumably have xkit anyway