#( roxanne | task. )

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Untitled Roxy x Reader fic (hurt/comfort)

EDIT: A more polished version is now up on ao3. If you're re-reading it or sending it to someone, then the ao3 version is preferred, but it's not changed enough that I would necessarily suggest re-reading it again if you weren't already going to. <3

For some reason, last night, I decided that it was imperative I write and release a Roxy x Reader oneshot before Ruin. (ETA: To be clear I mean I wrote this before Ruin released, therefore it contains NO SPOILERS. <3) It's an idea I've had for awhile and was going to do as a comic but decided to expand it and write it out instead. I may post a more polished version to ao3 at a later date.

Fun fact: Roxy was my first FNAF crush, before SB even came out. So Ruin will have many chances to break my heart.

Word count: ~3200

----

When the Pizzaplex burned down, none of your colleagues had seemed particularly interested in returning to the ruins. You could understand…some of the techs arriving for the morning shift had been caught in the blaze, and while there were no casualties, there had been some injuries. Yourself included.

After a few weeks in the hospital, the burn mark across your face was just an angry red scar, and the singed hair you’d had to cut off had regrown enough for you to wear a slightly uneven pixie cut.

The other techs said you were crazy to want to go back. The future of Fazbear Inc was uncertain, and the animatronics themselves were just that. Animatronics. Machines. Not worth putting yourself in danger for.

But you’d come to consider Roxy a friend. Sometimes you thought she considered you one, too. She didn’t seem like she would readily admit such a thing even if it were true.

She had at least liked you as a tech, if not as a person. You were the only one who could do her pre-show checks and weekly maintenance without ruining her hair, at least according to her. According to the other techs, Roxanne’s hair was always fine.

You quickly learned that to Roxy, “fine” was equivalent to a reprehensible failure. A disaster. A complete horrific mess. 

You didn’t think your experience with costuming (specifically wigs) in your college’s theater club would ever be something you used after you graduated, but life is full of surprises.

You wander through the corridors of your ruined, burned out workplace, flashlight in hand. You have a few guesses as to where Roxy might be. You desperately hope she’s okay. The structure is mostly intact, but there are a few collapsed portions and fallen bits of decor. You think as long as Roxy had been able to avoid the worst of the heat, she’d be mostly alright.

You make your way to Rockstar Row, your workboots crunching on the debris as you walk.

As you approach Roxy’s room, you hear something that makes you freeze.

Crying.

For a moment you wonder if another tech, or perhaps some urban explorer or rubbernecker is in here with you. Then you recognize the voice behind the sobs.

Roxanne is crying? You’re more surprised than you probably should be. But you’d seen behind her mask a couple times. Behind the vanity, haughtiness, and borderline entitlement, you had occasionally glimpsed a profound insecurity. Beneath it all, you don’t think Roxy actually likes herself very much.

You swipe your badge on the door, and it actually dings and slides open. Or tries to. Something jams it halfway and you have to wedge yourself into the doorframe and push the door open the rest of the way.

Roxy, who had been sitting at her vanity, head in her hands, perks up. Her ears twitch as she glances around. “Who’s there?” she calls out.

You open your mouth to speak, only to leave it hanging open in surprise as you see how badly she’s damaged. So much of her exoskeleton is missing, exposing the endoskeleton underneath. Her hair is a tangled, singed mess and her tail isn’t much better. But most horrifying, her eyes are completely gone.

“Who’s there?!” Roxy repeats, a growl in her voice as she stands up and starts stalking towards you. You can hear the servos and joints in her body creak in protest as she moves.

“R-Roxy, it’s me!” you say before hastily blurting out your name.

She stops, her ears twitching and her claws grasping at the air. At first you think she’s baring her teeth at you, but you quickly realize her broken faceplate has put one side of her mouth in a permanent snarl.

She huffs, turning away. She skulks back to her vanity, plopping down in her chair and burning her broken face in her shattered hands. “What do you want?” she mutters.

You tense, taken aback. “Wh-What do you think I want, Roxy?” you ask incredulously, slowly moving towards her. “I-I wanted to know you were okay. I wanted to help you. I was…terrified you’d…been destroyed,” you say quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She pulls away with a growl. “I have been destroyed! Just--Just look at me!” The rage in her voice doesn’t fully mask her despair, nor does it completely hide her fear. Fear of what? Of what could have happened? Of how close she came to being permanently deactivated?

Her command was clearly rhetorical, for she lowers her head further, digging her claws into what remains of her scalp.

“Roxy…all this can be fixed…” you say gently.

“No it can’t!” she snaps. “I already checked. Parts and Services is a pile of rubble now.”

“Well…what about the loading docks? Maybe we can at least find some new eyes for you…”

She scoffs. “Oh good. Then I can see myself. Because feeling all this isn’t bad enough,” she sneers, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Roxy--”

“FINE!” she growls, pushing back from her vanity abruptly. If the chair weren’t screwed into the floor she surely would have toppled it over. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

You flinch nervously, nodding. Remembering her blindness, you quickly say, “Okay. Here,” you say gently putting a hand on her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, though she sounds somewhat less defensive and a bit…nervous? Embarrassed? With a huff, she adds, “I’ll just follow your footsteps.”

You bite back a sigh. “Alright,” you say patiently.

You lead the way out of her green room towards the long stairway down to the loading docks. You’re not about to risk trying to take the elevator.

“Here, careful on the stairs,” you say, gently taking her arm again. This time she allows it, albeit with some reluctance as she gives you what probably would have been a withering look if her faceplate had been intact.

It’s a long way down and neither of you want to rush. The sound of your softer footfalls and her heavier ones as you both pick your way down the stairs echoes through the stairwell.

Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk.

You watch her carefully. She seems too focused on making it down the stairs to be too sulky for the moment. Small blessings, you suppose. Still, the silence is only stretching out your descent.

“It sounds like one of your knees is out of alignment,” you say eventually.

“The left one,” she confirms a bit gruffly. “I can manage.”

“I can see that,” you say gently. “It took me awhile to notice something was even wrong. You carry yourself well,” you say, smiling a bit.

Roxy grunts in acknowledgement, but doesn’t preen even a little at the praise. That’s unusual for her…compliments usually cheer her up.

“Maybe I can find a new hinge while we’re--”

“Why are you doing this?” she cuts you off.

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the flight of stairs.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean,” she says. Before you can speak, she continues, “This whole place is finished. Nobody’s coming back to rebuild. What’s the point of you patching me up?”

“I told you, Roxy…I was worried…” you start as you resume your climb down the stairs.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you!” you say, exasperated as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You keep your hand on her arm as you make your way down the corridor, and she doesn’t protest.

She snorts. “You care about a pile of scrap?”

You wish she could see the glare you give her at that. “You are NOT a pile of scrap! You’re just a little scuffed.”

“More than a little,” she huffs.

You sigh. “Okay, maybe a little more than a little,” you admit. You force a smile. “But hey…I’m the perfect tech, remember? If anyone can get you fixed up, it’s me, isn’t it?”

You weren’t normally any kind of braggart. Roxy had been the only one to ever call you the perfect tech, though you feel like that was almost more a point of pride for herself rather than for you. As if she were praising herself for being deserving of the best tech more than she’s praising you for being the best tech. But you still liked hearing it…and sometimes it really did seem like she was directing the praise at you.

Roxy turns her head towards you, her ears swiveling forward. It’s hard to read her expression with her broken faceplate, but eventually one side of her mouth ticks up into a small smile. “...Yeah…” she admits softly.

You squeeze her arm gently, careful to not touch any of the sharper broken off bits.

Once you get to the loading dock, you guide her to sit down on a crate while you look through some of the recent part shipments.

The fire had somehow spared much of this place, but the collapse of P & S had rippled partially through the area and several patches of ceiling had fallen, knocking over piles of crates and leaving the whole place in disarray.

Eventually you find a crate that has the P & S stamp on the wooden slats, and figure that’s a promising place to start. You grab a crowbar and begin trying to pry it open in any way you can.

Roxy’s ears perk and she turns towards you. “What are you doing?”

“Trying--urg--to get this crate open,” you grunt.

She stands and walks towards you. “Let me,” she says. She reaches towards you, trying to determine your position.

You take her hand, your fingers weaving in hers for a moment before you guide her hand to the crate.

“Thanks,” you say, stepping aside.

“Well…pretty silly to make a human do all the heavy lifting,” she says, digging her claws into one of the planks. The wood splinters and creaks and is readily ripped free.

You smile weakly. “You’re right…these arms would never have a fraction of your strength,” you say. Jokingly, you lift your arm and flex…only to realize Roxy won’t be able to see it.

Probably for the best. It was a dumb joke anyway.

She snorts, actually preening a bit as she pulls another board free. “Even busted…” she agrees softly. Her tone is slightly melancholy…as if she doesn’t fully believe it.

She pulls another board free, and you put a hand on her shoulder. “I think that’s enough for now,” you say, guiding her back to the crate she had been sitting on before.

You begin pulling the smaller boxes from the shipping crate, cutting them open and rummaging through them, looking for anything usable. 

Once again, the silence stretches on.

After finding nothing useful in the first two boxes, you glance back at Roxanne. Her hand is over her face, her middle finger slowly tracing the cracks near where her eyes had been. The quiet isn’t doing her any favors.

You shove the box you were looking through aside and pull out another, cutting it open. “Roxy?” you break the silence.

“Mm?” she grunts, still more focused on her faceplate than you.

“You…d’you um…remember that time we ran out of driver bots and that angry dad yelled at me?”

She pauses briefly, turning her head towards you. “What about it?” she asks before going back to feeling her faceplate.

“You remember what you said to me?”

“I called you an idiot.” Was that a touch of guilt you detect in her tone?

You laugh weakly, nodding. “Yes. But you remember why?”

“For letting a loser like that get under your skin,” she says plainly.

“Right,” you say, smiling. “I think about that a lot, you know.”

Roxy scoffs. “Really? Freddy said I was too rude,” she says. If she had eyes she would have rolled them.

You let out a gentle chuckle. “Well…maybe a bit,” you admit, earning a slightly sulky huff from her. “But there was truth to it, y’know? And I think about it a lot. It uh…it’s…helped me. Deal with people like him.”

She cants her head, one ear flicking curiously. It’s a cute expression even with her broken faceplate. “It…did?”

“Yeah,” you say, pulling out another box and opening it. “I-I mean…you were right. I knew he was a loser but I still told myself his opinion meant something. But it doesn’t, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly.

The conversation lapses again, and you try to resist the urge to slow your search in order to come up with a new topic. Luckily, it is Roxy who picks the next topic.

“You remember that time a birthday party ran long, and I was late getting back to the recharge station?”

You freeze. Oh you do remember. You remember that evening well. The animatronics tend to get a little quirky when their battery dips below five percent. Something about a power save mode cutting power to random systems. Usually mobility, but somehow, their…inhibitions, for lack of a better term, also seemed to go by the wayside. As far as you know nobody ever quite understood why, but it was a little like getting loopy from lack of sleep, or even a bit tipsy.

Roxy smirks, hearing your stunned silence. “You do.”

“Y-Yeah…I…I wasn’t sure if you did, though.”

“I remember the important parts.” Before you can start to wonder what the “important parts” are in her mind, she continues, “You’d finally used that salon voucher I gave you for your birthday. Gotten your hair done. Actually wore it down. I never understand why you hide such long pretty hair up that bun.”

You fluster a bit. “Th-The dress code--”

“Oh, you do it without the dress code,” she scoffs, flicking a hand dismissively.

You clear your throat awkwardly, pausing to rub at your cheeks as if you can wipe the blush away. “W-What’s your battery at, by the way?”

She snorts. “Just an idle wondering?” she smirks. “It’s twenty-two percent.”

So it’s not her low battery talking…

Roxy continues, “You know…if you can find a set of replacement eyes…I wouldn’t mind seeing your hair down again,” she says, actually sounding wistful, of all things. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard her sound wistful.

You sigh softly, running a hand over your chopped off hair. “Y-Yeah…” you say, noncommittally.

She glances at you questioningly, sensing something in your tone. But before she can comment, you cut open another box, and find it has the spare eyes you’ve been looking for.

“Found the eyes!” you say. Some of the happiness in your tone is genuine. You grab two amber ones, going over to her. “They’re just standard optics, so you won’t see as well as you’re used to, but…it’ll do for now,” you say, guiding her to lay on the floor.

Her smile fades slightly and she nods, reality setting back in. Despite your claims that you could repair her, she wasn’t convinced she’d ever be as good as she was before. “Guess it’ll have to,” she mumbles.

You put a flashlight in her hand and position her arm to shine it down on her faceplate, giving you light to work with. Your toolkit is beside you, with some extra lengths of wire and soldering iron to work with. As you cut away the burned wires, murmuring apologies whenever Roxy flinches, your mind drifts back to that evening.

Her power had been at one percent when you finally coaxed her into her recharge station. Before you did, though, she had leaned down and pressed her lips to yours. You think she had been trying to nuzzle your cheek. Even “drunk” you don’t think she wanted to kiss you like that.

Neither of you had ever spoken of that night again, until today. She must not remember the kiss, you decide. She wouldn’t bring up that night at all if she did.

The truth is you’ve carried a small flame for her ever since then. Or perhaps a little longer, if you were more honest with yourself. Nothing you couldn’t ignore most of the time, of course…but something that had occasionally managed to put a bit of warmth in your heart when you allowed it to.

But none of those silly little what-ifs you’d allowed yourself to daydream of would ever come to pass now.

You wire in the eyes, then carefully fit them into their sockets. As they come online, the attached eyelids blink shut against the light.

You quickly turn away, keeping your back to her as you pack up your toolkit. “Th-They working okay?” you ask. It’s silly to turn away like this. You can’t possibly delay her seeing your scar for more than a couple minutes. Why even bother trying?

She moves the flashlight out of her eyes and sits up, looking around. “Yes,” she says. She pauses. “...Better than I thought. I forgot the standard optics still have night vision.”

You laugh weakly. “Another thing you have over me, then,” you say in what you had meant to be a good natured tone, but you couldn’t quite keep the melancholy from your voice.

Roxy catches it and glances at you curiously. She stands up, then reaches down a hand to help you up.

Well. No more putting it off.

You bow your head slightly as you turn to take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. When you stand before her, you finally lift your head to look into her eyes, giving a small, tentative smile that borders on apologetic.

Roxy stares down at you, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Wh-What…happened…?”

You sigh, glancing away slightly. “I-I…got to work early, and…I was upstairs when the fire started. It…spread so fast I…had to cut through some pretty bad areas. I-I mean. I guess, something like that…I-I don’t really remember…” you say, your voice starting to shake.

Roxy’s hand is on your cheek, turning your face back towards her as she examines your scar.

You feel your face growing warm. “I-I don’t know how I got the scar, really…The EMTs found me passed out in the employee parking lot.”

Roxy smiles sadly. “You were strong enough to save yourself.”

You blush deeply at the compliment, lowering your gaze. “I-I guess so…”

She runs her thumb over the scar, tracing the ridges of the shiny, discolored skin. “Can it be repaired?” she asks, her tone more gentle than you’ve ever heard from her.

You shake your head, resisting the urge to nuzzle into her palm as you do. “Not…really. My hair will grow back and the scar will probably fade a bit, eventually, but…it’ll…probably be pretty noticeable for the rest of my life…” You feel tears brimming at your eyes and force out a weak laugh. “C-Can’t really…uh…s-switch faceplates on a human…y-y’know?” you say in a wavering tone.

Roxy hums quietly, bringing her other hand up to cup your other cheek. “No need,” she says, lowering her head and gently nosing at your scar.

Your breath stills at her words, your eyes widening in surprise. You’re almost not sure you heard right.

She pulls back, smiling down at you tenderly. “You’re still beautiful,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours.

[hoperiley]

Roxanne "Maned Wolf" Rodriguez-MacTavish

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello Clan, I was wondering if you could do the glams (including Bonnie and Foxy) and the daycare attendents learning that a worker reader has hearing aids that are usually hidden by their hair or a hat and that the hearing aid has a sticker themed around them, for example: a lightning bolt for Freddy, a checkered flag for Roxy, a cupcake for Chica, a music note or maybe golf clubs for Monty, a bowling pin for Bonnie, a skull for Foxy, a star for Moon, and a cloud for Sun.

I understand if you can't do all of them

No worries! But I couldn't figure out anything for Foxy, sorry-

I did my best research on writing for characters w/ hearing aids, so if there's anything I missed/got wrong I apologize!

......

Glamrock Freddy

He's seen you around the pizzaplex over the past month, although at times he gets confused when you don't respond to his greetings unless he's standing right in front of you.

But he assumes you're just busy and doesn't mind it much.

When you're assigned as his handler to help him keep up with all the events lined up this week (photo-ops, meet and greets, performances, birthdays, etc.), he finally gets to know you on a more personal level.

One evening, you're removing confetti strips and candy wrappers from his stomach hatch (in summary, the pinata's string got caught in the mechanisms during transport and ripped apart when the hatch opened), briefly removing your hat to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Freddy takes notice of the little devices in/around your ears, and suddenly it all clicks.

"[Y/n], if I may ask...are those your hearing aids?" The curious bear points to his own ears.

"Yep, glad you finally noticed." You chuckled, but he didn't catch your sarcasm.

"My apologies for sounding intrusive. I've just never seen them before."

"Oh you're okay, Freddy. I don't like to make a big deal out of them...unless some guest calls me "deaf" as an insult." You muttered, about to put your hat back on when you notice him still staring at you. "What's up?"

"Are those...blue lightning bolt stickers?" He gasps. "They look just like mine."

"...that's because they are." You smile, turning your head to show him the designs.

His heart is thoroughly touched.

"Aww..you themed them after me? Your favorite bear?" He coos, to which you huff and hide them with your hat.

"Yeah, yeah..I'll admit you're my favorite. Now don't go bragging about it to everyone else."

Roxanne Wolf

Working at the raceway was sometimes sensory hell for you, with your hearing aids constantly absorbing the sounds of noisy karts or screaming kids.

The worst was the construction work.

So you switch them off sometimes when you're busy with a task, as hearing gets tiring--especially in these parts of the pizzaplex.

One day, however, Roxy walked over to ask if you could supervise Cassie's birthday party...only to see you blatantly ignoring her.

She would've been annoyed, had her eyes not seen the aids hidden by your hat/hair.

Oddly enough she never noticed them before...

She just taps your shoulder politely, getting your attention as you turn them back on. "Oh hey, Roxy. What's up?"

She repeats her question, but you still struggle to hear her, so you both go somewhere outside the raceway to talk.

Once you understand what she's asking, you head to the atrium to assist with any final preparations, but along the way she inquires about the aids.

"Oh! There's something I've been meaning to show you." You reveal the checkered flag stickers, surprising the wolf. And you smile at her growing grin. "Yeah, I knew you'd love 'em."

"They're really cool. So I guess you can just..tune out all the ruckus of the raceway whenever you want?"

"It does get overwhelming at times, so yeah..I had them off. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you-"

"Nah, I understand now. But listen, if anyone gives you trouble over them, you let me know. Alright?"

"..I will. Thank you, Roxy."

"Of course. It's the least I can do for my favorite human worker." She chuckles.

Glamrock Chica

The incident where Chica's upgraded voicebox horribly malfunctioned would have surely overloaded your already sensitive hearing.

You were supervising her performance, but at the first sign something was wrong you took your aids out and dodged the chaos that followed, leaving to file an incident report.

As a lead tech, however, you're summoned to run diagnostics on her voicebox in parts and services (as apparently nobody else wanted to do it).

You kept your aids off in case things go awry again, but when Chica wakes up, she's 100% convinced that she broke them and you're angry at her.

She was informed that you use them, though she's never actually seen them.

Plus you were closest to her when it happened. If her voice could damage that many STAFF bots...then surely your aids weren't spared, either.

"Well, Chica..the good news is that we don't have to replace any of your speaking components." You explain, not realizing her sadness at first. "But I recommend you don't sing for a while and stick to the guitar. Just to play it safe."

"Oh, okay....I-I'm sorry....I really am..." She sulks in the chair.

"It's not your fault. I kept telling them not to rush the upgrade, but no one ever listens to-"

"BWAK?!!" Then she jumps, surprised. "You can hear me! I-I didn't break them..?"

"Huh? Oh..no, no, no. They're fine, Chica." You reassure her softly. "They're totally fine. See?"

Taking one aid out, you show her the cupcake sticker you put on it in hopes of cheering her up, watching the relieved smile return to her beak.

Montgomery Gator

If any place in the pizzaplex is loud (besides Roxy's Raceway), it's Gator Golf.

Should the ambience or the bass of Monty's instrument be too noisy for your hearing aids to handle, you can easily take them out or switch them off.

You can always hear his voice given how he talks in general, but if he's speaking directly to you, you'll have to put them back on.

The first time this happens, however, he sees them for a split second before they're hidden by your hat/hair and immediately assumes they're earbuds for music.

In his eyes, you suddenly decided to ignore him and he's not happy.

"So that's how it is, huh?" He snarls, already being in a bad mood as is. "I ain't fun to talk to anymore? You'd rather listen to your stupid human music than mine!?"

"Monty, what on earth are you talking about?" You blink in bewilderment. His hostility usually didn't come out of nowhere like this. "I don't have any music in-"

"Then what didja just stick in your ears?!" He points, glaring at you over his glasses.

"..my hearing aids?"

There's a long, awkward pause.

"...y'know, the things that let me hear you?"

"Ohhh..that's what they are? How long have ya had those for?"

"Most of my life." You smile apologetically, seeing him fumble and backtrack whatever he said before. "It's okay, Monty. I should've told you about them before....you wanna see something cool?"

Showing him your aids, he sees the golf club stickers on them and grins, no longer as grumpy as before. "Awh yeah!! Wait....did ya put those there 'cuz you like golf..or me?"

"I chose this design because of you, big guy." You chuckle.

Glamrock Bonnie

You were Bonnie's main handler, so you two have spent nearly every moment of your shift together.

He's been aware of your hearing aids since day one, complimenting the cute little bowling pin stickers you plastered on them and chastising any person who gave you a hard time about wearing them.

Sadly you never got closure on what exactly happened after he went "missing"...only to discover his shattered body stowed behind Bonnie Bowl months later.

He had claw marks inconsistent with what Monty's hands could have possibly done (not that you believed the gator was ever guilty of attacking him despite the rumors).

You fought tooth and nail to get approval from management to repair him, working tirelessly in parts and services--even doing overtime just to bring him back.

When Bonnie finally reactivated after weeks of trial and error, he nearly looked good as new.

Except...he doesn't remember you, and there's corruption in his memory files from the night he left his green room and went into Gator Golf.

He insists he was following somebody's orders, but can't specify anything beyond that.

"I'm sorry..I'm not much help, am I?"

"No, but...I suppose you should know that Monty's taken your place in the band in your absence." You regrettably inform him, seeing how sad he looks. "But if it's any help...you're still my favorite."

Taking off your hat, you show him the now faded bowling pin stickers that remained on your aids, and he stares for a while.

Then you see his eyes flicker with recognition as a smile grows on his face.

"[Y/n]...thank goodness you're still here! I-Is Freddy okay?"

Sun

He's definitely had deaf kids (both with and without hearing aids) come into the daycare, and he tries his best to give them a fun and accommodating experience during their stay.

So right off the bat, he knows you wear aids and often tries communicating with you in sign language.

Whether you're well-versed in that or still learning, you appreciate his efforts.

But you sometimes have to remind him that you can still talk to him as you normally would.

You show him the stickers on your aids--a cloud covering a sun, to be more precise--and he's totally ecstatic.

And I mean "jumping up and down cheering" ecstatic bc now he knows you picked those stickers because of him!! Because he's your favorite!!

Physically he's there but mentally he's the "yippee" autism creature

Sometimes you gotta lower the volume on your aids with how loud he accidentally can be, and he notices this fast.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!! So sorry!!" He fumbles. "Can I add something to the stickers maybe??? Googly eyes??? Glitter glue to make them shimmer and shine???"

"Thank you, Sun..but they're fine this way." You insist. "I don't want any glue dripping into my ears."

"Right! O-Of course!! We wouldn't want that now, would we? No glitter glue going into your brain!!"

Moon

The lunar animatronic, on the other hand, takes a bit longer to notice your hearing aids (considering how dark the daycare gets during the night cycle, he doesn't notice much).

When he does, he'll ask you some questions.

Like how long you've had them, how well they tune out background noise, etc.

It's all out of genuine curiosity, and you tell him whatever you knew, taking one of the aids out to show it to him.

And only then he examines the star-shaped stickers on them, staring for a while.

At first he automatically assumes they're themed after one of the Glamrocks...until you mentioned how similar they are to the stars on his hat and pants.

Finally, the gears in his mind click together.

"So you're saying....my outfit inspired you when you picked out these stickers?"

"Yep."

"How sweet of you, [y/n]...they look very nice. Glad I could be your muse." He snickers.

You never see it, but he's gonna be gushing over this every time you're working in the daycare now.

None of your coworkers paid any mind to Moon. They usually called him creepy or avoid conversing with him should they absolutely have to cross paths.

But you go out of your way to see him whenever possible; and the stickers are just a subtle yet sweet way of reminding him that he's always gonna be your favorite.

[signed-loni]

If you still take requests—

Could you write about the Glamrocks reacting to y/n wearing inspired makeup of them?

Almost how Cassie matched eyeshadow/make up with Roxy, since Roxy is her favorite?

I LOVE THISSS

Yall, i have been SO inactive on here, and for that IM SOSOSOSOSO SORRYYY 😭😭😭🙏

but alas, this is sososo cute so i just had to do it. im still working on other requests! So do not fret<3

warnings: None, its all cuteness

not proofread, sorry

reader is gonna be GN

FREDDY FAZBEAR

He thinks its so cute!!

he’ll help you do it when he has the time-

he likes watching you do it, while at the same time helping you remember what his “makeup” looks like

sometimes he’ll let you sit on his lap and just watch you do it, seriously, this guy just LOVES to stare at you

”Fred?” You called out, knocking on the star of Fazbear Entertainments door. “I wanna show you something!” You said, as the door was gently opened, only to reveal the very tall Freddy Fazbear. “Ah, y/n! How nice to see you! And your makeup! How very lovely it is. Looks just as good on you as it does me!”

you giggled at his remark. “Thank you! Took me forever to do. Hopefully (managers name) wont make me take it off. I think the kids would really like it!” You said. “I agree with you, it looks fantastic!”

Montgomery Gator

UGH THIS MANNN

Once you come into work with monty inspired makeup, he’ll tell you to come like that to work everyday

cocky little bastard

”Oh, okay, rockin’ my look huh? Looks good on ya babe”

Bro will NOT shut up about it

As you walked into the mega pizzaplex, faced covered in green eyeshadow and yellow and purple stared eyeliner, mentally preparing yourself for what monty was gonna say, you clocked in and got ready for your daily morning tasks.

As you were checking that everything was in its place, you felt someone was behind you. And you knew exactly who that someone is. “Monty, y’know you cant scare me. I’ve become immune to it” you say, turning around to face him, seeing a smirk spread across his smug face

“Wow, nice look ya got on” monty said, signaling to your eye makeup. “Inspired by yours truly, I assume?” He says, eyeing your, well, eyes. “Wow monty, you just assume things all the time dont ya?” You say, tone laced with saracasm as you turn around back to what you were doing. “Im right though, aint i?” Monty said, smugly. You giggle a bit “that you are, my redneck friend.”

Roxanne Wolf

she absolutely adores it

”Ya look good, sweetheart”

her tail wags viciously when she sees you wearing makeup similar to cassies, but with a little more pazazz (or however you spell that)

Thinks its cute that you wear lipgloss with a purple tint to it! Brings the look to life

You were hanging out at roxy racers, cleaning everything up and goving the go karts gas, when you hear roxy come up behind you. “Hey baby, loved the look you had going on today” she said while hugging you from behind “Thanks roxy! Im glad you liked it. A bunch of the kids and even some adukts complimented me on it. I was almost late for work trying to get it done.” you said laughing.

“The effort payed of though” Roxy said, admiring your perfect winged eyeliner and eyeshadow, along with the eyeliner on your cheeks to mock the stripes she had. “Looks hot, especially on you” roxy said, which made you laugh. “Alright rox, lets get you to parts and service” you said shaking your head and chuckling.

Glamrock Chica

Literally IN LOVEEE

she sees your makeup and freaks out

”OMG OMG OMG ROXY! DO YOU SEE Y/NS MAKEUP??!! THOSE ARE MY MARKS!! AND YOU SEE THE GREEN TRIANGLE EARINGS THEY HAVE ON??!! THEYRE LIKE MINE! OMG!”

couldnt contain her squealing, which eventually led you to hear her, to which you came up to her and she was SO HAPPY

(sorry chicas was so short, I typerd her paragraph but then it DELETED so :(( )

A/N: hope you enjoyed this! Remember to drink water and take care of yourself!! Xoxo loni

[snazzynacho]

PRINCESS

Gary “Eggsy” Unwin x Fem!oc

Summary: In which the posh girl and the chav fall in love. Closed-off and un-admittedly stuck-up Gwendolyn Winslet is one of ten candidates training to be chosen for the open place at Kingsman. If she passes she will become a Kingsman, or rather, Kingslady. One person in particular - who on paper does not belong there - catches her attention, for better or for worse?

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Chapter one:

The metal door swings open. Gwendolyn enters the room and all eyes land on her. Her heels click on the floor as she struts closer to the group. Her chequered pink Chanel skirt and jacket combo stand out between their boring beige smart attire and she ignores the judgmental stares.

"The princess has arrived," The ruder man of the lot comments on Gwen wearing an all-pink outfit, smirking at his remark, to which she rolls her eyes and places herself next to a woman with dark blonde hair — the only one who seems to be smiling at Gwen instead. Before Gwen can tease him back, the metal door opens again and in steps a young man who looks completely out of place. He's wearing a blue cap, Adidas joggers, a grey jacket over the top of a blue polo top and white trainers. Very casual and not at all smart like he should be.

The tension in the room is palpable as the group stares at him with intense judgment, far more than what Gwen received. They don't have time to make comments as a sharply dressed man holding a clipboard walks swiftly behind him, maintaining a vital amount of authority.

"Fall in," He says, prompting everyone to stand straight and give him their full attention.

The man lingers for a moment, which feels like forever for the candidates. He's passing a silent verdict on each of them, determining who is the strongest and ruling out those who will crack within the first few days, or hours, even.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Merlin...You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world." He speaks in a Scottish accent.

"One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Lancelot."

Merlin walks over to one of the beds and picks up a muddy green bag, "Can anybody tell me what this is?"

Immediately everyone raises their hands, apart from Blue Cap — the odd one out.

Merlin picks on the rude man from earlier who snappily answers: "A body bag, sir."

"Correct. Charlie, isn't it?" To which Charlie nods in confirmation.

"Good,"

Gwen sees the sly glance Charlie gives the man with the blue cap, and makes note of it.

Merlin continues instructing, telling them they will each need to collect a body bag and write their names and details of their next of kin on said bags. "This represents your acknowledgement of the risks that you are about to face as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality. Which, incidentally if you break, will result in you and your next of kin being in that bag. Is that understood?" He doesn't wait for an answer, seeing the rigid looks on their faces. "Excellent. Fall out." Merlin promptly turns and leaves.

The group slowly begin to separate, each going to choose a bed and proceed with the task at hand.

Gwen chooses her bed and it happens to be next to the man with the blue cap on. She overhears Roxanne (Roxy) introducing herself, and in return, he does too.

"I'm Eggsy,"

"Eggy?" She mishears.

"Nah, Eggsy," He corrects her.

Then, Charlie's irritating voice perks up, making her skin crawl. "Eggy? Where did they dig you up?"

Gwen looks up now, seeing Charlie obnoxiously resting his hands on his hips, trying to seem superior to him.

"You know we're not allowed to discuss who proposed us." Roxy attempts to defend Eggsy.

One of Charlie's sleazy minions walks over. "No need to bite his head off. Charlie's only making conversation. Isn't that right, Charlie?"

Gwen rolls her eyes so far back she thinks she can see stars. She thought attempting to join Kingsman would get her away from men like them, but she guesses not.

He introduces himself to Eggsy as Digby, but Gwen will call him Minion from now on.

A second minion walks over claiming to be Rufus, but she now sees him as Minion Two. "So, Eggy, are you Oxford or Cambridge?" He asks.

"Neither."

"Saint Andrews?"

"Durham?"

"No, wait. I think we may have met. Did you serve me at the McDonald's in Winchester service station?" Rufus jokes except it is not that funny. Gwen rolls her eyes again. Everyone knows Winchester is too posh for Eggsy.

"No. But if I had I would have given you an extra helping of secret sauce." Eggsy teases them back and motions his hands as if he's pretending to jizz in their faces.

Gwen cannot help but snort at this. She admits this guy is funny.

Out of the corner of his eye, a blob of

pink catches his sight, and Charlie glares at Gwen. "The princess hasn't said much, has she?"

To which, Gwen smiles and sticks up her index finger and middle finger — a British gesture to politely tell someone that they're being a c*nt.

Eggsy flashes her a look of surprise. He never expected a posh girl to do something like that.

Focusing back on the task they have been set, Gwen locates her pen to write her information on her bag.

"You need a pen," the only other woman in the group says and offers Eggsy a pen. "Do you need one too?" she asks Gwen.

"No, thank you," replies Gwen.

"Amelia, isn't it?" Roxy asks, and she nods, prompting Roxy to introduce her to Eggsy.

Amelia glances around to see Charlie and his minions gossiping about them. "Don't take any notice of those guys," Amelia advises Eggsy.

Gwen finishes writing and looks up just in time to see Amelia and Eggsy's handshake. She cannot understand why they're all pandering to him.

Roxy notices Eggsy's wary look at the label on the body bag, which asks for his name, blood type, and next of kin. "It's just scare tactics. Classic army technique. No one's gonna die." she reassures him.

Eggsy looks around at the trio of twats. "Shame,"

__________________

The sound of trickling wakes Eggsy up in a start. He pats his bed in confusion before realisation sinks in. His bed sheets are cold and soaked. Water is flooding the room, and rising. Fast. It is almost as if the room is sinking. It is dark even with the bright white lights in the bathroom, so he twists around to flick his lamp on, and in the warm hue, there is a terrifyingly clear view of the pool of water.

By this time, everyone has woken up and done the same thing he has. With all their lamps turned on, it's apparent the reality of the situation is much more dire than they realise. The water has not stopped rising.

With his bed now submerged underwater, Eggsy struggles with what to do. He decides to stand on what's left of his bed and grabs onto the ceiling to stay dry. Everyone seems to have thought of the same idea as he glances in all directions, observing.

"All right no one panic. Listen to me," Charlie advises, as if he were in charge.

Eggsy catches a glimpse of Gwen to his right. Her eye roll would have been amusing if they weren't in a life-or-death scenario.

"Loo snorkles. Loo snorkles!" Charlie begins pointing to his left where the bathroom is.

"Loo snorkels?" Eggsy's beyond confused and shocked. He's just woken up to the room flooding so very quickly and now they're shouting about snorkelling from a toilet?

"Showerheads!" Roxy shouts from next to him, and he's even more confused and scared. Now his only friend is joining in on the lets-shout-about-bathroom-appliances game.

He looks to Gwen again, though she has an unreadable expression on her face.

"She's right. Fucking go!" Charlie yells and on cue, they all start to swim towards the bathroom, leaving Eggsy.

"Hey, hang about, what's wrong with the fucking door?" Eggsy cries after them, using his last breath, as the water rises so high he only has time to take one last deep breath before the water reaches the ceiling.

Eggsy looks at where Gwen is again, expecting her to be swimming as well, but she is not. They catch each other's eye — a silent action that speaks volumes.

They swim over to the door but it's locked. Gwen, who has already figured this out, taps him on the shoulder, shaking her head. She points in the direction of the opposite end of the room, where the others are in the bathroom. From here they can't see exactly what they're doing but it looks like they're breathing from the lead of the showerhead. Gwen knows you can get an unlimited amount of oxygen from a toilet but that is not on her wish list. She'd rather drown than breath toilet air. Literally.

Speaking of drowning, with not much time left, she yanks his arm and insists they need to swim in their direction. Eggsy feels betrayed in a way, thinking she's joining the others on their toilet extravaganza, but with his life on the line, he follows her cue. They end up swimming over there, and that's when Eggsy spots the large mirror. It's almost comically too big. There's something about it that is suspicious to him, and that's when a thought pops into his head — it is a two-way mirror.

He rapidly swims towards the mirror, using all the strength of all his limbs to glide through the water. Gwen follows his lead and reaches him as he's throwing his first punch into the glass, his muscles flexing.

She joins in on the punching, but her knuckles irritatingly don't puncture the glass nearly enough as she wants. Gwen gets an idea though. She swishes around in the water and swims away to her bed.

Eggsy is thinking the worst — that she's gone back to her bed to drown or that she's joined the others in their snorkelling. How that's going to help? He does not know.

He spots a flash of pink to his left and stops punching the glass momentarily. She is swimming to him again, holding something pink in her hand. He wants to comment about her wasting energy by swimming all the way to her bed area just to bring something pink back in this dangerous situation when she starts to help him. The pink thing is actually one of her stilettos, and she uses the long thin dagger-like heel to their advantage, hammering it against the glass.

Eggsy begins to punch the glass again, next to her hammering. Cracks in the glass begin to form around their hits. They glance at one another again - silently agreeing to utilise all their energy on one final blow to the glass, hoping that'll be the end.

They nod at each other, and raise their arms. Eggsy's fist is closed tight and ready to pound, and Gwen's high heel is held up, prepared to slam.

Bam!

Their weapons hit the glass hard. So hard that it gives way, and the large glass panel crashes in on itself, sucking all the water out, along with Eggsy and Gwen, the others follow, being dragged by the tidal wave.

They all crash in a heap onto the hard floor of the secret room that was behind the two-way mirror. They're all coughing and spluttering, dripping wet and cold on the floor. Merlin stands before them, holding his clipboard again. "Congratulations on completing your first task. Charlie, Roxy, well done."

"For those of you who are still confused, if you can get a breathing tube around the U-bend of a toilet you have an unlimited air supply," Merlin explains. "Simple physics, worth remembering."

"Eggsy, well done for spotting that was a two-way mirror." Merlin then focuses his attention onto Eggsy.

"He's probably seen enough of them," Charlie butts in with as usual an idiotic comment.

"And, Gwen, well done for being imaginative in your choice of weapon. But you can all wipe those smirks off your faces. Because as far as I'm concerned, every single one of you has failed. You all forgot the most important thing...teamwork." Merlin points to an area in the room.

One by one they stand up, stepping closer to where the mirror used to be. Over by the beds lays a body — Amelia.

"So much for classic army technique," Eggsy thinks out loud.

Gwen believes that even she and those around her don't fully comprehend what they've committed to.

[mouwrites]

FNAF Security Breach - When They Catch Your Eye

Freddy

He always gets a teensy bit flustered when he notices someone staring

Not enough that he gets clumsy or anxious, but if he could blush he would, just a little bit

If it’s you that’s staring, though, that’s a whole different story

He freezes when he sees your eyes on him

It takes a second for you to register that he’s staring back at you

But then you lock eyes

There’s a brief moment of silence, both of you too captivated to do anything

Then Freddy breaks the spell, offering a shy little wave

Even if you’ve known each other for a long time, little things like that make him nervous as a schoolgirl

It makes you laugh, which really lights him up

Then you both go about your tasks, each a little brighter after the interaction

Roxanne

She tells herself that she’s used to staring

And she is, for the most part

Sometimes she’ll reflect back on those moments where people stare at her and she’ll feel a little overwhelmed

But it’s different with you

Whenever she catches you staring, she gets the typical ego boost of someone’s eyes on her

Because it’s you, she’ll even try to show off a little

The coy look she adopts makes you grin

She won’t feel overwhelmed when she thinks about it later

She knows that you really do think she’s amazing, and that you’re not lying when you tell her so

Even if she can’t believe it herself, it helps to know there’s someone out there who loves her

It makes her affirmations she uses sound just a bit more truthful as she repeats them in the mirror

Chica

She immediately stops whatever she’s doing when she sees you looking at her

She waves energetically, trying to get your attention as if you weren’t already looking at her

She just wants to make sure you really are paying attention and not zoning out

When you smile and wave back, she absolutely beams

She’ll ride that high for the rest of the day

Probably the rest of the week, too

Knowing that she was enough to catch your eye makes her feel loved :)

She gets eyes all over her all day, but you’re special to her, so your eyes matter most

Yet she also gets a bit antsy when she sees you staring

She wants to go over to you!! But she can’t :(

Monty

He specifically looks for your gaze on him whenever you’re around

If he knows you’re in the area, he tries to show off to get your attention

Then, when he knows he has it, he looks away casually

As if he was just acting natural and just happened to catch your eye

Sometimes he’ll look over to meet your gaze, sending you a cocky wink

You getting flustered is even more rewarding than knowing you were staring at him

He’ll absolutely bring it up later when you guys are talking

He wants to get you all flustered again

If you somehow manage to fluster him instead, he’ll be completely dumbstruck

You’ll be the one who has to walk away coyly while he’s frozen in shock

Usually it’s the other way around, with you being flustered and him leaving you with skin several shades darker than a few moments before

Kinda short but I hope you enjoyed!! Take care lovelies <33

(divider by saradika)

[pathetichimbos]

First Meeting - Part Five

((part four here)) ((part six here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92  @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn

---

You’ve run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

Luda Mae didn't say much else after your confrontation, only directing you on where they kept the empty egg cartons once you were done drying the eggs and which fridge to put them in.

She tasks you with helping with dinner, leaving you in charge of cutting the vegetables she needs for the beef stew she was planning to make later in the day.

Okra, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, celery... This stew was packed full of everything, a big and filling meal, a recurring theme you could already see playing out in this house.

The Hewitts clearly didn't lack in food, making enough for everyone and more, their fridges stockpiled with everything any person could need, from fresh fruits and vegetables to drawers full of home packaged meats.

Luda Mae begins preparing lunch as you chop the vegetables, the radio filling the silence between the two of you as you think of something to say, trying to find a way to fix the awkwardness you had created.

Before you get the chance, however, Luda Mae breaks the silence herself, "Go fetch Monty and Thomas for lunch."

"Right." You drop the last of the now chopped vegetables into a large bowl with the rest of them, "...Where are they?"

"Monty'll be on the front porch, with that damn yappin' mutt of his. Tommy'll be in the basement, straight down the hall."

"Ok, where do you want me to put these?" You grab the bowl off the counter.

"Put 'em in the fridge for now."

"Yes ma'am." You do as you're told, going to the front porch first.

You push the screen doors open with a sqeual, the two wooden doors already wide open to help air flow through the house.

You step onto the porch, swinging your head right to the empty swing, then left to see Monty at the other end of the porch, sleeping dog curled up in his lap.

"Hello?" You ask, as he doesn't seem to react to your presence at all.

No response.

You step closer, and the faint sounds of snoring make it apparent he's fallen asleep. You take another step, reaching a hand out to touch the back of his wheelchair in an attempt to wake him.

But, instead of waking him, you wake his dog, who jumps up as soon as your hand touches the chair, barking ferociously at you.

You jump back, pulling your hand away as Monty wakes up with a jolt, looking around confused.

"What the-- Roxanne, shut up!" He hollers at the dog before spotting you, already grumpy at being woken up, "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"I, uh... I'm supposed to tell you lunch's ready?" You take a step back, unsure of what else to tell him.

"Aw, hell." He huffs, turning towards the front door and making his way across the porch, yelling out, "Luda Mae!"

You step out of the way to let him pass before quickly following behind, making sure to reach up and open the screen door for him.

"I don't need your damn help." He mutters, pushing the other screen door open with his cane and making his way inside, "Luda Mae!"

"What the hell are you yellin' about now, Monty!?" She calls back from the kitchen.

"What is this person doin' in my damn house!?"

"Your house!?"

You ignore the rest of the conversation, quickly walking past the kitchen as they argue, following Luda Mae's previous instructions and going straight down the hall.

This end of the hall is dark, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. There's a single step into a small room, and when you try the switch it doesn't work.

The large metal door is daunting, not like any basment door you've seen, towering over you in the dark like a threat.

Just like a horror movie... You can't help but to think, stepping forward and looking for a door handle.

You don't find one, your fingers running across the cold metal in the dark, feeling for a way to open it. Instead, your fingers catch on the side, and with a little more looking, you realize it's a sliding door.

Gripping the edge of the door, you pull as hard as you can, the heavy metal scraping as it slowly pulls open, working against you as if it didn't want you to open it at all.

You give up once you get enough space to squeeze through, leaving it partially closed as you step inside.

You're immediately met with a faint, foul smell, and a wooden staircase going down into a wall before turning into the rest of the basement hidden from your view. You can hear someone moving around down there, a faint light creeping up the stairs.

"Thomas?" You call out from the top platform, shifting in place. The basement was already terrifying you, and you hadn't even taken the first step down, "You down here?"

You hear metal clatter, and something drop before heavy footsteps make their way over to the stairs. Thomas comes up to the second platform, a rag in hand as he wipes off his hands and arms. You can't see what he's wiping off, and you're sure you don't want to.

"Lunch is ready." You tell him, Luda Mae's and Monty's yelling loud enough to echo into the basement as you give an awkward smile, trying to make light of the situation, "...I don't think Monty likes havin' me here much."

Thomas lets out a small amused huff, well aware of his uncle's habit of looking for a reason to have a problem.

"Are you coming up?" You ask, and he nods, tilting his head towards the basement as if to say he'd be up in a minute, "Alright, I'll tell Luda Mae."

You step back out of the basement, barely managing to push the door shut again.

You can hear the arguement finishing up as you head back into the kitchen, managing to catch the end tail of Luda Mae shutting it down, "...Sit down and eat so you can shut the hell up. Ain't no damn reason for you to be mad right now."

Monty grumbles something else too quietly for you to hear as you step back in, already stuffing his mouth full of the lunch Luda Mae prepared.

"Thomas says he'll be up in a minute." You break the silence, tension thick as you take a seat at the kitchen table.

Monty rolls his eyes, smacking around a full mouth, "Oh, what'a big help you are."

Taken aback by the sudden insult, you look between the two of them, beginning to pick at your own plate of food.

"Ignore him. He's just mad at nothin'." Luda Mae sets two more plates down before taking the seat beside him, "Don't talk with your mouth full, you damn fool."

He huffs again, glaring down at the plate of food as if it's responsible for everything wrong in the world, though you had an inkling suspicous he was directing those feelings towards you.

Another minute passes in silence, as the three of you sit and eat, your plate signifigantly less full than theirs, a request you gave Luda Mae earlier as to not waste any food you couldn't eat.

"...This is really good." You finally speak up, the silence driving you mad.

"Thank you. At least someone's appreciative." Luda Mae gives Monty a pointed look.

"Ain't suppos'ta talk wi'f my mou'f full." He makes a point of talking around a large bite of food.

It's her turn to roll her eyes as she turns back to her own plate of food.

"Why are you here anyhow? You get kicked out of your own house for bein' a druggie or somethin'?" Monty abruptly asks.

"Damnit, Monty--!"

"No, it's alright." You shrug, "I don't mind."

The smug look on his face almost makes you want to take it back, but you ignore him as you start explaining, "Mama drinks too much and Dad ain't around. Just seemed easier to go out on my own than to try and fix someone who doesn't wanna change."

"And it's also none of your damn business." Luda Mae points out.

"It's my damn business when it's in my damn house."

She scoffs, about to say something else when Thomas walks in the room, opting instead for saying nothing else, simply giving Monty a silent warning glare not to say another word.

"Hi..." You mutter, looking up at Thomas as he sits down, unbelievably relieved to have him in the room.

He looks around the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife between Luda Mae and Monty, creating an awkward environment for everyone in the room.

You stare down at the table, picking at your plate as you steal glances between the two of them before catching a glimpse at Thomas, who was doing the same as you.

You look at him, and then back at the other two. He nods, apparently sharing your thoughts.

You bite your lip, glancing between the two of them and Thomas. Perhaps it was the overly exaggerated look of anger on Monty's face, or the way Luda Mae continues making annoyed facial expressions, as if she was still arguing with him in her head, but suddenly you find yourself struggling not to laugh.

Thomas seems to be thinking the same thing, food untouched in front of him as he tries to fight off a smirk under his mask.

You place your arm on the table, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you look away, almost visible shaking from trying to stifle your laughter. It was like being a kid again, sitting between your parents trying have a serious arguement over the stupidest thing they could possibly think of, completely aware of how much trouble you could get into for laughing but unable to stop yourself from chuckling at their overdramatic antics.

The rest of the meal is spent in silence, you and Thomas stealing glances at each other and stifling your amusement at the two.

After everyone finishes you gather the dishes, helping Luda Mae wash them, the awkwardness long gone since Monty went to his room to take a nap.

You wash the plates and silverware in silence, Luda Mae drying and putting them away.

It's still early in the afternoon, and she's got nothing else to do, giving you plenty of time to grab your book and settle on the living room couch.

Luda Mae sits on a love seat on the other side of the living room, crotcheting something you couldn't quite make out. Perhaps it was too early in her project, or perhaps she was just shit at crotcheting. You don't bother to ask, content with reading over your book as an old song drifts through the air, dripping with static as the old radio pushes it out of it's speakers.

You pull your feet onto the cushion, leaning on the arm of the couch as your eyes read over the familar words for the hundreth time.

It's easy this way.

Easy to not ask questions.

Easy to pretend everything's normal.

Easy to forget what happened yesterday.

At least, it was.

The words are too familar, you know them too well.

They begin to blend together on the page, losing your focus as your mind begins to wander, the words changing and shifting until you're back in the pantry, watching Katie cry and plead for her life, helplessly yanking against her constrains.

You clench your eyes shut, her screams echoing in your mind as you shake your head, pushing the memory to the back of your mind, letting it settle in your chest like a gnawing guilt, reminding you that you could have done something different.

You're caught off guard when Thomas walks in the room, taking a seat on the couch and catching your attention. He's changed out of the grimey clothes he had on before lunch, now adorning a clean, navy blue dress shirt and jeans.

You look back down to your book, trying to refocus on the words and keep your mind away from yesterday, away from the thing that made you scared of him.

It doesn't work, and you close it, setting it down beside you as you sit up, leaning back and letting your head hang back as you stare at the ceiling.

You feel a tap on your hand, and you look over to see a concerned Thomas. He takes your hand, writing out his question, "A-R-E U O-K?"

You stare at your hands for a moment, letting his question roll around in your head for a moment before nodding, "Just tired..."

He nods as well, letting your hand go.

It feels cold for a moment, and you almost miss the heat of his hand against yours.

The rest of the afternoon goes on rather slowly, with not much to do, you're left to distract yourself.

Luda Mae shows you where the washer and dryer are, helping you get a load done so you can finally take a shower and feel clean.

It's a dream, clean clothes on clean skin, finally given the chance to run a brush through your hair, fighting against the tangles that have made their home there over the past several weeks.

You almost don't know where to start, staring back at yourself in the dingy mirror of the downstairs bathroom, wet hair clinging to your skin as you face the daunting task ahead of you.

You try your best to brush through the mess on your own, brush pulling at the knots harshly, leaving your arms tired and wrists hurting as you barely brush a few of them out.

"You alright in there?" A sudden knock makes you jump, grip tightening on the old hairbrush.

"Y-yea," You sigh, opening the door for Luda Mae, "Just havin' some trouble with my hair..."

She looks you over through thick glasses before sighing herself, "Well, come on then."

That's all the warning you get before she's walking down the hall and back towards the front of the house.

"Huh?" You blink in confusion, quickly following behind.

"Sit." She takes a seat on the couch, pointing to the floor in front of her, "Come on, now, I ain't got all day, supper's gotta be made."

It takes you a few seconds to realize what's happening, but none the less you do as you're told.

Luda Mae takes the brush from your hands as you cross your legs, leaning against the front of the couch and giving her access to your hair. Thomas isn't in the living room anymore, but the one sided conversation you can hear Monty having on the front porch gives you an idea of where he may be.

Luda Mae's hands are gentle as she works, slowly but surely brushing through each knot with much more ease than you had yourself. It's obvious she's done this before.

You close your eyes, letting them rest as she combs through your hair, humming a quiet song.

"...It's been a long time since I've brushed anyone's hair," She speaks up, "Thomas won't let me do it no more."

"You used to brush his hair?"

"Mhm. Every mornin', since he was just a little baby. Then Hoyt and Monty started teasin' him for it and now he does it himself..." Her voice is sad as she explains, carefully working through a particularly difficult knot.

"...You're a good mother." You're solemn as you lean your head forward, giving her better access to the back of your head, "He's lucky to have you."

You hear her hum in response, unable to see the small smile gracing her face,

"...There we go." She finally states after a few minutes, pulling the brush away from your hair, "All done."

You sigh in relief, running a hand over your hair just to feel the difference, "Thank you, it feels so much better."

"You can thank me by helpin' with supper." She pats your shoulder, and you take that as your sign to stand, following her into the kitchen to help make dinner.

[syoddeye]

task force 141 and karaoke. according to me, for shits and giggles. several youtube links below. (thank you @pfhwrittes for your duet suggestion.)

soap always starts with kiss from a rose by seal (the vibe), and drags gaz into it usually with gaz. soap is a…passionate singer. if no one will sing with him, he’ll do both parts.

starstrukk by 30H!3

fernando by abba

hand in my pocket by alanis morissette

torn by natalie imbruglia

gaz is an average singer, has decent range, but a natural performer. he goes for those high notes, but they hurt.

he wasn’t man enough by toni braxton

somebody to love by queen

beggin' by madcon

free fallin' by tom petty (price signs him up for this)

it's raining men by the weather girls (soap signs him up for this)

once they get going, soap and gaz are unstoppable. almost obnoxious.

wannabe by the spice girls (with choreography)

don't go breaking my heart by elton john and kiki dee

promiscuous by nelly furtado and timbaland

as by george michael and mary j. blige

the bad touch by bloodhound gang

danger! high voltage by electric six

price is a terrible singer. someone told him he could sing once and he believed them. if you’ve seen mamma mia, think pierce brosnan. still. it’s karaoke, so he is entertaining when he takes the stage.

angels by robbie williams

don't look back in anger by oasis

you've lost that lovin' feeling by daryl hall and john oates

roxanne by the police (could you imagine the moulin rouge version though...?)

islands in the stream by dolly parton & kenny rogers (with me)

and ghost? conveniently missing. soap will sign them up for something like especially for you by jason donovan and kylie minogue, but when ghost doesn't come to the stage? obviously, soap'll cover both parts. with tears in his eyes.

[akairawrites]

Born for conflict | Jason Todd mini series

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Taglist

@ella-fella-bo-bella @ayoitsurfavdesigurl @luvvvjada @aiq39 @420sprite @stvrfir3 @instabull @lumineliax @rukia-uchiha-98 @1lellykins @skyesayshi @imarimone12 @mysticalhills @deliciousfatblackcat @4arancia @bat-h-tic @luvelyxp @urmomsbananabread @strawberrycreamb @dollceesstuff @just-reading-dany @godknows-shetried @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @cascadingbliss @solaris-love @bbiaa420 @roxanne-loves-Luffy @mess-in-side @jasontoddsthickthigh @lilupie @Crystals-faith @debirbie @c-losur3 @harleycao

"You want me to do what?"

"Find the Red Hood and rip out his throat!"

Y/n stuck her hands inside her hoodie, furrowing her brows, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Why would I ever do that?"

Black Mask returned the intense gaze, and Y/n could sense he was losing his composure, which amused her. "Because you work for me," he said through gritted teeth.

Y/n smirked, relishing in getting under his skin. She had heard about the Red Hood disrupting Black Mask's supply, but frankly, she didn't care. In a few months, he wouldn't be her problem anymore.

She looked around at the construction workers fixing the aftermath of the explosion that took place a few hours ago. She took a step forward and leaned on his desk which somehow managed to survive.

“What's in it for me?” her face was only inches away from his the look in her eyes told him she was dead serious.

“Extra pay until your deed with me is done.”

Y/n straightened up from the desk, a sly grin playing on her lips. “Consider it done.”

As she left Black Mask’s office, her mind began to strategize. She knew Gotham’s underbelly well and understood that hunting the Red Hood required finesse. The city echoed with rumors about his movements and haunts, and Y/n was determined to navigate the tangled web he wove.

Her journey took her through dimly lit alleys and hidden meeting spots. She spoke with informants, listened to whispers in the shadows, and pieced together the puzzle of the Red Hood’s elusive presence.

Days turned into nights as Y/n relentlessly pursued her target, a dance of shadows in Gotham’s treacherous landscape. The city’s pulse thrummed with secrets, and she moved through it like a silent predator, closing in on the Red Hood’s trail.

Finally, a lead pointed to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Y/n approached cautiously, aware that the Red Hood was not to be underestimated. As she entered the dimly lit space, the tension in the air grew palpable.

And there he was, the Red Hood, a figure clad in crimson and black, standing defiantly in the center of the warehouse. Y/n sized him up, her gaze meeting the unmistakable red helmet that concealed his identity.

"I assume your daddy sent you?" Of course, he already knew that.

"You're foolish if you think that man is my father." Y/n took a step forward, a deliberate move.

He chuckled "You're good, you know. Found me quicker than I expected." Y/n tilted her head in confusion, a detail the Red Hood noticed.

"Yeah, I knew you were coming. Do you really think you'd find me if I hadn't allowed you to?"

Y/n's jaw clenched; the guy was undoubtedly a character, much smarter than he looked

"I know you hate Black Mask as much as I do. Join me, Y/n, we could run this city."

His offer was tempting, and under different circumstances, she might have considered it. However, her focus was on completing the job at hand. She had no desire to align herself with him; she wanted to finish this task like all the others.

"I have no interest in joining you. I came here to get a job done."

Jason sucked his teeth. "I was afraid you'd say that."

The air crackled with tension as Y/n and Jason circled each other in the dimly lit warehouse and without warning, Jason lunged forward, blades glinting ominously. Y/n sidestepped with a dancer’s grace, quipping, “Careful with those, wouldn’t want to ruin your manicure.”

He smirked, countering, “I’ve got more important things to worry about.”

Y/n countered with a series of quick strikes, her fists a blur. “Like what? Maintaining your mysterious bad-boy image?”

Jason parried with a fluidity that showcased his own combat prowess. “You think I do this for image?”

The echoes of their banter and blows reverberated through the empty space. Metallic clangs of weapons colliding punctuated the silence.

Their fight danced between offense and defense, a symphony of skill and determination. Y/n’s hands blurred as she executed a lightning-fast combination. “You really think you can take on the entire underworld on your own?” she teased.

He smirked, dodging with acrobatic finesse. “Just getting started, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s confident facade wavered for a split second, a subtle blush creeping across her cheeks. “Don’t get too cozy with endearments; you might not live long enough to enjoy them,” she retorted, trying to mask her flustered reaction.

Jason chuckled, catching the momentary vulnerability. “Sweetheart, you’re not the first to threaten me, won’t be the last.”

She rolled her eyes, but the unexpected flutter in her chest lingered as they resumed their agile dance. The echoes of their banter and blows reverberated through the empty space, creating a unique rhythm in the midst of the fierce battle.

In a sudden burst of energy, Y/n unleashed a powerful kick. “Time to wrap this up, Red.”

As the battle intensified, the clash of fists and kicks echoed in the warehouse. Y/n’s agility matched Jason’s strength, creating a dynamic equilibrium and it showed.

Jason had finally met his match.

Their faces mere inches apart, the intensity of their locked gaze mirrored the struggle for dominance.

Jason found themselves locked in a desperate struggle. Blades met fists, and the air crackled with the sound of their duel.

Exhaustion painted their faces, yet determination still burned in their eyes. A risky move from Y/n left an opening, and Jason seized the opportunity, disarming her with a swift kick. With her weapon clattering to the ground, he held her at a momentary disadvantage.

Breathing heavily, Jason surveyed the situation, the adrenaline of battle still coursing through his veins. Instead of capitalizing on his upper hand, he took a step back, releasing Y/n from his grasp.

Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. In that moment, the intensity of the fight transformed into a strange, unspoken connection. Jason, despite having the power to end it all, chose not to deliver the final blow.

“You’re good, Y/n. Maybe we’re not that different after all,” he said, his tone carrying an unexpected depth.

She looked at him, her guard still up, but a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “Don’t read too much into it, Red. This doesn’t change anything.”

With that, he nodded, choosing not to pursue the confrontation further. The dimly lit warehouse remained a witness to their clash, a silent testament to the complexities of their entwined destinies. Jason vanished into the shadows, leaving Y/n to collect herself in the aftermath of their intense encounter.

“Mask is going to kill me.”

Let's be real Jason Todd would destroy you if he wanted to

↳ Reblogging also helps!

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[goldenworldsabound]

F/O Takeover Post!

[link to my normal pinned post]

[Transcript: Clayman, he/him. "Come one, come all! But remember to pay me proper respect, and call me lord, lest you incur my wrath."

Shiroe, he/him. "It's a pleasure to be here. I look forward to meeting all of you. Let's get along and have fun."

Below that are individuals with names - Footman, Tear, Laplace and Yuzu are under Clayman, while Naotsugu, Nyanta, Akatsuki, and Rudy are under Shiroe. Beneath them is another row with my OCs, Allen, Tara, Heather, Rx, Karma, Mengyao, and Xavier.

Lero Ro, he/him. "This looks interesting. I look forward to asking questions of my own."]

Typically I try to send an ask to anyone who sends me one before I respond to it! If I miss sending you one back please feel free to let me know. I am also down for rp between our faves and encourage it, hehe. Now, I'll let them introduce themselves (mostly under the cut!).

Clayman: Welcome one and all to Wendy's F/O takeover for the month of November! I'm Clayman, and I will be your primary host as Wendy's King of Kings, the truest love of their heart! Shiroe is also here, assisting me or something. Pay him little mind.

Shiroe: ah...no, we're cohosting, Lord Clayman. That's what Void said, isn't it?

Clayman: ...well, perhaps, but as I'm far more seasoned in such matters, you'll do well to follow my lead, human.

Shiroe: ...I see. Shall I introduce the others?

Clayman: as you wish. That is certainly a task that falls below me.

Shiroe: Void has also asked for some of their friends to participate. In the context of ff7 or log horizon, we have Karma, Xavier, and Mengyao. In the context of log horizon only, we also have Roxanne, Heather, Allen, and Tara! Please treat them kindly.

Shiroe: additonally, my fellow guild members Nyanta, Naotsugu, Akatsuki, and Rudy will be around, as well as some of Clayman's family.

Clayman: ...what??? I don't recall inviting them-

Laplace: you didn't, but Wendy always does, ya know? Don't give me that shocked face. Besides, ya know we'll always pop by to heckle ya about yer oh so sappy love~

Clayman: ...whatever, fine. And there you have it. Let the takeover officially commence!

[tzitzimitl-eztli]

I love your fantasy bear comic so much, and I have questions that I hope won't be troublesome to ask!

....was the rabbit Gregory followed to get here... Was that Vanny? Or Spring Bonnie? Or Glamrock Bonnie?

We see that Cassie is in with Roxanne, and Crying Child is with Nightmare, what about Charlie? You mentioned that Lefty is very task-oriented and does not care for fawning over the children, so will she be a part of this?

Similar to the last question, is it only Cassie, Gregory and Crying Child? Or will there be other children, like from the books? Do the missing children incident kids exist here? Or are they dead and only mentioned? Or not here at all?

Apologies if this is rude or a lot, I just love your art so much and I am so curious as to where the story you're telling will go! 💚

hmmm well I will try to answer the best I can The rabbit that Gregory follows is Vanny (・´з`・) about charlie she doesn't appear ~(；´ω｀)7 and about the last of the children there was also an incident with them... and they are mentioned (/;◇;)/ Don't worry, maybe this will clarify the plot a little too, thanks for your support! (≧◡≦)

[manekijinx]

Three more Hi-Fi Rush OCs from a personal project of mine! Introducing Mikan, Paprika, and Dr. Camembert.

More info on these guys below!

Just a bit of lore! These guys are connected to the OCs I posted over here.

Mikan is Yuzu's younger sister! She's 19 and the lead singer/bassist of her indie rock band, Harmonia Rocket (ハルモニアロケト). They had started off with a pretty small following but have had a big boom in popularity in recent years. Yuzu used to play drums for the band before their current drummer joined. ✨

Paprika is Vandelay Security's top unit with prodigy level skill in combat and leadership. She's been recognized by Korsica as her most efficient and competent guard and is often tasked with the jobs that require an expert's attention. She volunteered for Project Armstrong to replace a paralyzed leg and is now capable of the gymnastic level athleticism she formerly was in highschool. She and Cayenne volunteered for the project without knowing the other had, making for a very awkward reunion after years of not seeing one another.

Dr. Camembert is one of Vandelay's most brilliant minds. He assists in conducting studies involving robotic implants and neurological technology. However, despite his expertise, he's often kept in his lane by Roxanne Vandelay due to his bizarre interest in the removal of human necessities for the body in favor of achieving "peak efficiency". He was kept under Macaron's watch for most of his time working at Vandelay Technologies, but was left with a bit more leeway when Kale took over the company and replaced Macaron with Zanzo. Nowadays, with Roxanne back at the helm, he's once again kept in check, but now has a body much more cybernetic than she last saw him.

[gatheringbones]

[“Criticizing US scholars for their erasure of the Indian, Mahmood Mamdani writes:

“Engaging with the native question would require questioning the ethics and the politics of the very constitution of the United States of America. It would require rethinking and reconsidering the very political project called the U.S.A. Indeed, it would call into question the self-proclaimed anticolonial identity of the U.S. Highlighting the colonial nature of the American political project would require a paradigmatic shift in the understanding of America, one necessary to think through both America’s place in the world and the task of political reform for future generations.”

Furthermore, Mamdani argues, regarding the conflation of immigration and settlement: immigrants join existing polities whereas settlers create new ones. “If Europeans in the United States were immigrants, they would have joined the existing societies in the New World. Instead they destroyed those societies and built a new one that was reinforced by later waves of settlement.” The nation of immigrants rhetoric that avoids the dynamics of settler colonialism plays a role that “is essential to settler-colonial nation-state projects such as the United States and Israel. The political project of the settler—to create and fortify the colonial nation-state—becomes obscured by the nonpolitical project of the immigrant, who merely seeks to take advantage of what the state allows every citizen.”

Historian Lorenzo Veracini also distinguishes between settlers and immigrants, asserting that settlers are unique migrants made by conquest not by immigration. Settlers are founders of political orders and carry their sovereignty with them, whereas immigrants face a political order that is already constituted. Immigrants can certainly be individually co-opted within settler-colonial societies, and often are, but they do not enjoy inherent rights and are characterized by a defining lack of sovereign entitlement.

Immigrants and refugees to the United States do have the option to resist becoming settlers, although in most cases they do not know the history of the United States or the political reality. The US Immigration and Naturalization Service policies based on exclusion make the new immigrant’s life precarious, particularly for immigrants of color entering a racial order that renders them suspect already, so they may not want to know the reality or that they have a choice and that by default they become settlers.”]

roxanne dunbar-ortiz, from not a nation of immigrants: settler colonialism, white supremacy, and a history of erasure and exclusion, 2021

[fierylittleniece]

@goddamnmuses

"I've told you once, I'm not interested."

Her voice is scolding as she takes another sip from her goblet, seated near the entrance of the tavern to watch as others walk in. Roxanne a high ranking member of the king's guard, a glimmering paladin waiting patiently for her assigned task.

[themuse-if]

A polycule with all the Rebel Rejects?! Say no more I may feint from joy! jokes aside that would be cool, BUT as I've come to learn writing and coding PolyRoms can be insane and taxing so while yeah cool and desired I can enjoy this game 100% without it. Since I'm here I'd love to get the RO's reacts from being gifted a self made teddy plush (or whatever their fav animal is) from the MC.

Anyways I hope you're doing well, sending good vibes and well wishes your way.

Hey! Yeah I'm sure it'll be quite the task, but I think it'll be a really fun path to write even if it is pretty challenging. Everyone is so excited about it which just makes me want to write it that much more! Ok moving on to this super cute scenario! Let's say that they are already official and this is the first gift MC is giving them while dating. And they're just hanging out in MC's dorm room.

Roxanne/Robbie: *MC hands Ro a handmade wolf plushie* Aren't you just as sweet as can be. *grabs MC's chin and places a soft kiss on MC's lips* Thank you. *looks deep into MC's eyes* This is one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

Joleen/Johnny: *MC hands Jo a handmade dog plushie* Oh! Oh wow it's so cute. You're... just...how're you so great? *gives MC a sweet kiss on the cheek*

Delphine/Desmond: *MC hands De a handmade turtle plushie* This is so adorable, just like you. Now I need to give you something. Are you hungry? *MC says yeah and tells De what they're craving* Ok let's go to the store I'm making you dinner. *grabs MC's hand as they head out*

Rina/Ren: *MC hands R a handmade tarantula plushie* Thanks. It's really...*cracks a smile* creepy cute. *MC asks if they like it* What do you mean? *tackles MC, and looks down at them* Of course I like it. Plus you made it with your own hands, which just makes it that much more special. *gets shy and scrambles off of MC*

Everly/Everett: *MC hands Eve a handmade dog plushie* A token of your affection, handmade just for me. *wipes a faux tear* I am in awe and truly touched. *MC cracks up laughing* I really do love it though. I'm going to take it everywhere and make sure everyone knows that it was made just for me by MC. *gives MC a lingering kiss*

Karla: *MC hands Karla a handmade cat plushie* Thanks babe. *cheesy grin* It's so cute, you're so cute. How did I get so lucky? *sighs, and traces thumb over MC's lips* You're just...never-mind I don't want to get to sappy.

Faye: *MC hands Faye a handmade chinchilla plushie* OH MY GOD! This is so freaking cute! You made this? Oh my God. *gets teary eyed* Thank you...so much. Sorry I don't want to make this weird, it's just rare that people do things for me... *Hugs MC super tightly, pulls back and tries to laugh of the serious moment* You're too sweet. *boops MC on the nose*

Sebastien: *MC hands Seb a handmade lion plushie* Mon cœur ne supporte pas autant de soleil. You continue to amaze me. *pulls MC in for a sweet, but firm kiss* Let's go out you, me and notre petit lion. Suddenly I'm in the mood for something sweet, my treat of course. (roughly translates to my heart can't handle that much sunshine and our little lion)

Maxine: *MC hands Max a handmade hedgehog plushie* I love it! The perfect addition to my little collection. How many have you made me now? One for every birthday since you learned how...so this is 4. I will continue the theme of naming them after famous actors. There's Helena Hedgeman Harter, Halle Hedgeberry, Hugh Hedgeman, and this one will be Heath Hedger. *MC and Max erupt into a fit of laughter*

Silas: *MC hands Silas a handmade dog plushie* Thank you MC. *pats MC on the head* This is very sweet, I'll put it somewhere safe. *MC asks Silas what he means* What do I mean? I mean I really love it, I just can't let anyone see it, not yet. I don't want anyone asking questions, ending up with us getting caught. I really like you, we just have to stay under the radar until you're no longer my advisee. *pulls MC close and give them a soft kiss, and sighs* Thank you for being so understanding.

[anxiouscr0w]

Emotional Support Staff Chapter 7 - Comfort Ribbons

Summary: You wake up with an illness, feeling gross. You clock in anyway and do Roxanne’s makeup, and make two new plush friends. Sun tends to your scratches and Moon follows you during your last task, where he reveals himself as a little gremlin. It’s a shift full of coughing and avoiding telling the Daycare Attendant what happened to your arm.

Heya! This chapter doesn’t really have too many warning really other than a constant theme of coughing and sickness, there’s no vomit but a scene where y/n feels like they’re about to. I’m really happy with this chapter, and it sits at over 7k words! This chapter is pretty fluffy tbh, a little change of pace from last chapter <3