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ponds-of-ink · 6 months

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Short Springtrap And OC Drabble: “A Pack of Springs”

Blame one particular thing I read from @spaciebabie and it invigorating the writing part of my mind. Again.

At least there’s no explosions this time.

(There may be a part two if anyone wants?)

Springtrap stood nearby the office window. It was only a couple of minutes before the guard clocked in for the night. His undead heart was pounding, but not for the usual reasons.

You see, this guard was the coolest kid on the block.. At least, in his mind. Streaks of color against some naturally-hued hair. A work outfit fully customized with patches and other interesting details. All wrapped up with the most “chill” attitude he had ever witnessed. If one had to sum up this soul for him, it would be the punk look of the 1980s somehow paired with this… Scene?… 2000s Gothic?… aesthetic. And it captivated him.

Maybe a bit too much, if he was being honest. What with all the catalog cutouts scattered around his room.. And the hours he spent trying to figure out how to even start dressing properly again..

But, hey, at least the feeling was (mostly) mutual. The guard dug him and he dug back. The cat and mouse stuff was merely a running gag at this point.

Unfortunately, it was a performance that they weren’t going to put on tonight. Springtrap had something more… interesting in mind. A little idea he wanted to test the waters on. And, to pull this off, he had to ask the one fashion expert in this building a very simple question.

The office clock rang. Springtrap jolted out of his self-reflecting. He put himself into his usual “threatening” posture and waited. It was only a matter of time now— And he honestly couldn’t wait.

The guard, meanwhile, clocked in at the lobby. It was a cold and cloudy midnight, which made things extra spooky. “Heh, this is my kinda night,” the unknowing figure thought as a grin crept in. “Hope Spring’s ready to see me beat him for the third time in a row.”

Combat boots thumped down the long hallway. Springtrap’s arms shook in spite of himself. It was just a simple question. He had no need to panic.

Thankfully for him, the guard noticed very quickly. “Oh, hey, Spring,” came the casual response after the initial jump of shock. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

Springtrap placed an arm against the wall. Oh, he was just hanging around. Nothing wrong here.

The guard gave a very brief scan up and down. Aside from the nervous “grin” and a magazine in one of his hands, there wasn’t anything really wrong with him. “Well, I’ll let you get to reading,” the guard concluded, swerving into the main office. “Just come in if you need anything.”

Springtrap signaled “Will do”. The instinct to internally kick himself was strong, but this mishap did provide him an opportunity. He skimmed through the magazine again. Just one more refresher to get his mind back on track.

The guard, meanwhile, just went about the usual routine. Boot up the security system, check the cameras, and double-check Springtrap on occasion. Simple as that.

Minutes went by for both of them. Spring still read through his catalog while the guard kept the peace. Tension started to swirl, though the guard wasn’t sure why. He was just reading a book! There’s nothing stressful about looking at some fashion stuff while on “break”!

Heavy footsteps soon lumbered into the main office. A light, papery thump hit the top of the guard’s desk. The guard peered beside the monitor. “What’s up, Spring?” the guard asked, sliding over a notebook and pen. “You seem kinda antsy tonight. You good?”

Springtrap instinctively took up the notebook and pen. His handwriting was even shakier than usual, but he let the guard see it anyway. “I was thinking about trying something new,” he jotted down. “Something I think you would like, Axel.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “Something you think I would like?” she asked, placing her elbow on the table as she leaned forward. “What’s even better than playing hide and seek with you?”

Springtrap’s good ear raised. A human-like gleam entered into his eyes. He lifted the notebook from the desk and carefully slid the catalog forward. A few scribbles later, he gestured to one sentence at the bottom of his notes: “Look in there.”

Not knowing what else to do, Axel followed his instructions. She first looked at the table of contents, which already had a few pages underlined. Tops, Overcoats, Accessories.. All basic stuff.

Well, if you want to call any of the stuff from a premiere “gothic” fashion line ‘basic’.

Regardless, Axel read through each marker-circled item. Mentally taking in any scribbled-down notes that Spring may have left. A cool patterned shirt here, a funky two-tone vest here, a crop top… Several places, actually. Even with page references on what to pair each one with. Come to think of it, all of the selections had some sort of cross-reference with something else. “He really put some thought into this,” Axel thought, a smile growing the more she flipped back and forth. “He’s even trying make outfits!”

But even with this sense of pride, that sense of tension gnawed at her core. It didn’t help that all the undershirt sizes he circled didn’t match his size. “Unless he’s thinking about me getting these, I don’t think these’ll work,” she said in her head, biting the corner of her lip. “Which is a bummer, ‘cause I really like these! They’d look so good on him!”

After a couple more minutes of digging through the rabbit’s “wishlist”, Axel set down the magazine. “Pretty good picks, Spring,” she said casually, leaning back in her seat. “But I gotta ask: Why’d ya make the undershirts so small? I mean, the bigger crop-tops could look good on top of ‘em, but… Wouldn’t the undershirt be too tight?”

Springtrap halted his multi-page outline. He flipped to an empty page and started writing again. After a few seconds, he showed her the answer: “Not if you’re planning on ‘slimming down’.”

Axel tilted her head. “‘Slimming down’?” she repeated, her posture shifting to a more serious position. “Ya mean, like, getting a new torso piece?”

Springtrap nodded, then eagerly jotted down something else. He spun the notebook around with a proud grin. “Yes!” it read, alongside a semicolon and a capital D. “As a matter of fact, I’m in talks with a technician about getting a different build altogether. It may make me look broader in the shoulders, but I believe the ‘six-pack’ will be worth it.”

All of Axel’s dread overloaded into outright fear. Her heavy shudder nearly made her convulse. Nausea overrode her entire body. The mental image of this zombie rabbit having the buffest body in the crew just… Didn’t sit right. It felt wrong, even if he was just a weird robot guy.

Thankfully, she did manage to sputter out something. “Y-You’re joking, right?” she questioned, using the desk to steady her nerves. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Springtrap’s good ear drooped. He hastily wrote his response. “I’m not,” he answered. “But I did need to run all of this by you first. Mainly for fashion concerns.”

The words provided a little comfort to the rattled guard. Okay, good. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Your outfits are fine, my man,” she stammered out, steadying her breathing. “Don’t sweat it there. My main deal is this ‘s-six pack’ thing. Just… why?? Who put the idea into your head that you couldn’t pull off these looks now?”

It was Springtrap’s turn to tilt his head. “Nobody suggested it to me,” he ‘replied’, underlining the word multiple times for emphasis. “I just thought that my current shape couldn’t ’pull off’ some of these, that’s all.”

Axel grit her teeth. “So you took one look at these guys by yourself and said ‘yeah that’s what my body needs to look like’?” she asked, her face burning bright red. “Is that what I’m getting at here?”

A simple “Yes” was all Springtrap wrote.

The poor woman slammed her head on the desk. She stifled the urge to scream in rage. “Springs, my guy,” she said after a minute of silence, raising her head. “I know you’re a robot.. zombie… bunny, but listen ta me: You already look cool enough. You already are cool enough. Just keep scaring me like you usually do and you’ll be fine.”

Springtrap placed a hand to his waist. He glanced at it before writing with his other hand. “I appreciate your compliments,” he ‘added’. “But ‘hear’ me out: Can you actually picture someone with my ‘chubby’ build wearing things like what I’ve shown you?” He then stood up straighter, making sure he somehow didn’t make himself look “thinner”.

Axel, try as she might, now pictured Springtrap in one of those outfit combos. And, to be quite honest, it made her face burn for an entirely different reason than before. “I mean, I can see you in ‘em clear as day,” she laughed sheepishly, covering her eyes (as if that would help). “Hey, maybe you’d win that bunny wife of yours back if…” Her voice broke into a sincere giggling fit, making her unable to finish her sentence.

A quiet, hoarse chuckle emitted from Springtrap’s voice-box. “While I do still have my apprehensions,” he ‘continued’ after a pause, “I suppose I’ll hold off. Don’t wait to make you nauseous every time I show up behind that window, after all.”

“Thanks, my guy,” Axel responded, her voice weakening with relief. “Just, uh, let me know if you do have any problems trying to fit stuff. I know a guy who works on mascot costumes for fun, so he knows how to make outfits for animatronics.”

“I will keep your friend in mind,” Springtrap ‘answered’, his handwriting now more loose and stable. “Thank you for all of your advice.”

“No problem,” Axel grinned as she returned to leaning back in her chair. “Glad I got the chance to say something before somebody tore out that torso piece. It’d be an absolute bummer if the world lost you rocking that ‘bod.”

Springtrap put down the pen. Another hoarse chuckle emitted from his throat. Given how confident Axel sounded, maybe it would be a shame.

But, as the term “rocking” invited an opportunity for fooling around, he rose up to full standing height.. Then placed his hands on his sides. He assumed his saddest ‘pout’ and swung his hips a little. Almost as if he was saying: “But my body doesn’t just rock. It has rolls too.”

Axel laughed in spite of herself. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” she smiled, feeling her face flush a little. “Go do your ‘sad’ dance moves somewhere else, ya big lug. We’ll pick this topic up some other time.”

Springtrap slumped his shoulders dramatically. He rolled his eyes as he picked up his catalog. With a final wave, he vanished behind the doorway… Before “sprinting” back down the hallway with the dumbest smile. That last pun may not have been his best work, but Axel’s suggestion may have just given him an idea for tonight’s game. If she wants to be that determined to prove her claims about him, he’ll have to work to dispute it. And that tip about dancing may have just given him an edge in that debate..

#springtrap #fnaf oc #william afton #spaciebabie #fnaf fanfic #sassy rabbit man

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