#Thank you for such a fun question rox | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clumsyenby · 3 years ago

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HII! if your requests are still open I was curious if you could do lil head cannons for Roxy, Monty, and moondrop with a feminine (or gender neutral of you're more comfortable with that!) s/o who's hands are always cold but their(the s/o) love language is physical touch? ofcofc if you don't have time//don't write for those characters I understand completely, no worries! :)

hello!!! my first request :D

thank you so much, this has been such a fun thing to write about. do forgive me as i'm not sure how head-cannons work (is it just written in point form??) so i wrote a short one-shot for each animatronic instead!

PS: sorry, i'm a little rusty from a break, so this isn't my best work, but i quite like it. <3 happy new year!

edit: requests are open! feel free to ask anon too :)

masterlist & rules for requesting | my AO3 collection of FNAF imagines!

TW: none

adult, gender-neutral reader!

(Y/N) - Your Name

Total: 3408 words

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

- holding hands with your animatronic lover is always fun, though their hands being cold can be a little disadvantage to that. screw it, you love them too much to let go. ♡

Roxanne Wolf

- 1001 words

Her paws envelop yours as her tail wags excitedly. "Did you see that, (Y/N)?" She asks. Her eyes reflect the joy she feels from winning the race against her fellow Glamrocks. There was no way in hell that Roxy would allow herself to lose to them, especially in her raceway.

Her words enter one of your ears and come out of the other. It feels like the world has slowed down as you concentrate at the sight in front of you; her large paws holding your hands. You could barely call them paws, they were too human-like, down to the manicured green claw.

Her hands were cold on your warm ones. It sends a shiver through you, goosebumps immediately present on your arms. It made sense, metal on human skin. Though cold, it was a feeling you welcomed. It was the first time she has ever held your hands like this - so intimate, so real.

Roxy removes a hand as she snaps a finger in front of your eyes. "(Y/N)? Earth to (Y/N)? Helloooo?" She calls. You flinched as the heat rose to your cheeks. How embarrassing.

What was she talking about again? Race.. Score.. CHECK THE SCOREBOARD!

Your thoughts are jumbled from being roughly pulled away from the dream-like state you were in. You chuckled awkwardly and glanced at the large scoreboard behind Roxy.

ROXANNE - 5

MONTGOMERY - 4

FREDDY - 1

CHICA - 0

TOTAL ROUNDS: 10

WINNER: ROXANNE

You smiled brightly at the wolf, "Hey, you won! Couldn't let Monty have the last point, huh?" You teased. Roxy grinned, showing off her fangs. "Of course. I can't be losing at a race where my partner is present."

Partner? Did she just call you her partner?

LIKE, AS IN ROMANTIC PAR-

"(Y/N)? Do you want me to bring you to the first aid station? This is the second time you zoned out in the same conversation.." Roxy asks worriedly. She puts a hand on your forehead, feeling for your temperature. Oh, how nice the cold metal felt on your warm skin. You sighed in content.

"36.5 degrees celsius. You're at a normal body temperature, yet your cheeks are still red. Are you sick?" Roxy prods once more. You pull her hand away from your forehead and let out a small laugh. "I'm fine, Rox."

Roxy looks at you unconvincingly. "Seriously, what's up? You only zone out when something is bothering you." You pursed your lips together, unsure of how to exactly explain it to her. There was the chance of her taking it the wrong way and thinking that you disliked this special treatment that she was giving. No, you loved it.

However, Roxy had never established that you were in an official relationship with her. You adored her, definitely. You would agree in a heartbeat if she asked you out. But this was just a friendship, nothing more.

"You called me your partner...?" You trailed off, the statement coming off almost as a question instead. Roxy nodded, confusion evident in her eyes. "I did. Do you not like being called that?" You shook your head, "No, that's completely fine! The word 'partner' has several meanings, such as a business partner-"

"Romantic partner. Like a girlfriend, or a boyfriend. That's what humans call it, right?" She cuts you off with a cheeky grin. You stutter, you were not expecting her to be so blunt about this. Not even an once of hesitation from her.

"Y-Yes.. But you're supposed to ask the other person if they want to be your partner. You don't immediately assume it.." You say slowly and cringed at your own words. Words were what hurt Roxy the most, and you were afraid of hurting her. You just had to get your point across.

Roxy lets out a low hum. "Is that so?" You nod. You weren't prepared to see the tears well up in her eyes, as you had a few times before. You weren't prepared for her to get upset at you, maybe even stop talking to you. Ending her friendship with you.

You looked down, afraid to even glance at the beautiful wolf. She was too perfect (quite literally, considering she wasn't human). You would never be able to forgive yourself if you had hurt her, albeit unintentionally.

Roxy hooks a finger under your chin, pulling your face up to look at her. There's that feeling again. Cold metal on your warm skin. It was such a nice contrast. She smiles. "I'm sorry for assuming, (Y/N). Would you like to be my partner?" She asks.

She said it. SHE SAID-

"(Y/N)? If you freeze up again in the next five minutes, I'm really going to bring you to the first-aid station." Roxy says. She's teasing this time, though. You can tell from the teasing tone in her words. You laugh and throw your arms around her, enveloping her in a hug. "I'd love to be your partner! I thought you'd never ask.." Your voice went quiet, a sob threatening to leave your lips.

Roxy peppers you in small smooches, "My partner. Mine, mine, mine." She says softly in-between kisses. One hand wrapped around your waist to hold you steadily, the other grasping your hand gently. You lean into her touch, "Yes, Roxy. All yours." You reply back, reaching up to place a kiss of your own, on her nose.

She might be cold metal, but she definitely did have a warm heart.

Montgomery Gator

- 1449 words

Monty still remembers the first time he held your hands like it was yesterday. Technically, it was a few weeks ago, but he's too caught up with love to care.

He currently holds your hands in his, watching your face slowly for any reactions. He watched as your eyes squeezed shut for a brief second, he felt the shudder that ran through you, down to your fingers. Your heartbeat had elevated, not to a worrying extent, but rather, a heartbeat pattern he knew by heart. He had memorised it upon picking up that your heart only beat like this when he was around. He was the reason for your flustered state.

And as your gator animatronic boyfriend, it made him prouder than anything; prouder than when he joined the Glamrocks. It made his non-existent mechanical heart swell, knowing that you were genuine in the affection you felt for him.

"You okay?" He asks softly, rubbing his thumb on the back of your palm. His thumb was comically large compared to yours, but it was something that you would never change. Comparing hand sizes with Monty was the first physical interaction you had with him. Unknowingly to you, that interaction alone was enough to rope the gator in, he wanted to know anything and everything about you from then. He never knew that it was your touch he was missing; your soft laugh from that interaction made him realise that he was in interested in you.

You giggled and blew a stray hair away from your forehead. "Your hands are a little colder than normal because they're made of metal. But that's okay! Just a little surprising."

Oh, right. It was the first time the Pizzaplex has witnessed winter. All of the animatronics were mesmerised by it, gazing at it longingly from the exit of the building. Monty was delighted when he saw snowflakes littering your hair, down to the pair of jeans you always wore. He had tried to pick one up as gingerly as he could, not wanting to break it, only to frown when the snowflake had soon melted away.

Monty chuckled, moving forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Well, a kiss to the best of his ability, it was more of how a pet would nuzzle a human. Your giggles rose in volume upon more physical contact with him, "You're cold all over, Mon! Metal is a good conductor of heat," You said, your mechanical knowledge whirring around in your brain as you attempted to explain it to him.

Monty roared with laughter, his voicebox crackling and wheezing. "If I can get you cold enough, I could freeze you and keep you in this position forever." He says cheekily, meeting your eyes with a grin.

You raise an eyebrow, "What would you even do with me frozen?" His grin grows wider as physically possible, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you into an Impossible Hug; it was impossible for you to get out of. "So I can cuddle with you for all eternity!"

You relaxed against him, feeling the cool metal against your body. Albeit colder than what you were used to, Monty's personality practically melted the coldness away. You loved being able to touch him, to hold him. Luckily for you, Monty's love language was physical touch as well, be it cuddling, kissing, or holding hands. That last one was both of your favourites, it was enough to know the other was there without being too eye-catching for visitors at the Pizzaplex.

Your soft snores soon filled up the atmosphere, making Monty chuckle. It had been a tiring night. You were busy fixing up the other Glamrocks while Monty trailed after you, watching as discreetly as he could so that you would not be distracted. He knew you would not be able to get your job done had he been next to you, you would be busy conversing with him, your task quickly forgotten.

As you snoozed on your robo-boyfriend, Monty took it upon himself to connect to the internet to search for something. Something to combat the cold he was unable to control.

"Hey, honey." You yawned as you entered his green room the next night. You had just finished fixing Sun's faceplate, the poor thing was unable to spin due to a piece of metal that had gotten stuck. Sun had said the metal must have come from one of the play structures he accidentally ran into, in an attempt to entertain the group of toddlers he had for the day. Poor guy, he was trying his best.

Monty looked up from his couch, quickly hiding whatever he was holding behind his back. "H-hey, babe. You're back early.." He had stuttered and trailed off in one sentence. That was weird. You knew if he had done either, he was hiding something. But to do both in one go? Something was definitely up.

You hummed, a teasing grin on your face as you walked slowly towards him. You leaned forward, right into his face, "What 'cha hiding, gator?" The closer you got, the more Monty pushed himself and sunk into the couch, to the point where your nose and his snout was touching.

Monty's eyes shifted away from yours, visibly uncomfortable. "N-nothing.." He says softly. You followed where his arms led to, down to his hands that was hidden behind his back.

"You're a bad liar, honey.." You said, pressing a kiss onto his snout. Monty relaxed, leaning into your touch. That was it! The opportunity!

As you kissed him, your hand trailed down to where his hands were. You came into contact with something.. soft? You grabbed at it, effectively stealing it from Monty's hands. You expected to find a plushie, just like all of Monty's previous gifts, only to see a pair of gloves. Knitted gloves.

"What's this?" You asked, pulling back from him. You were perched on his lap, as you usually were, inspecting the accessory.

Monty chuckled awkwardly, "You mentioned that I was cold yesterday. While you slept, I tried learning how to knit a pair of gloves for you to wear. So that you wouldn't feel cold while we touched.." As he explained, his large hands pulled each glove over your hand. They were the same shade of green he was in, along with black accents at your fingertips, to symbolise his claws. The gloves fit comfortably, albeit a little big for your hands.

Your heart had warmed up from being in the presence of your boyfriend, but this gesture had set it on fire. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. It was not as tight as his Impossible Hug, but it was the best you could manage.

"You're too sweet, honey. Thank you!" You exclaimed. He truly was too sweet, he was always showering you in constant affection, from holding hands to now this. Monty lets out a content grumble, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Anything for you, babe."

The rest of the night, you lounged in Monty's room as he told you about how he learnt how to knit. Turns out, Youtube tutorials were too confusing for him. In a last attempt effort, he had turned to Moondrop for help. You had no idea why the nighttime animatronic knew how to knit, but you supposed it was so that he could make blankets for the children to use during nap-time. You had seen the blankets, a calming navy blue shade with small suns and moons in an alternating pattern.

As it also turns out, Monty was really good at picking up handicrafts. A secret talent, of sorts. He was amazing at painting when given a big enough paintbrush for his hands. Likewise, he easily picked up knitting after learning the basics from Moon and made your pair of gloves within a few hours, during his break time.

"Freddy even called me a grandma!" He whined at the end of his story, deflating against you. You laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You may be a grandma, but you're the sweetest, cutest, and most loving grandma gator ever," You teased. He huffed and blew into your neck, your ticklish spot, causing your laughs to become louder.

The next night, Monty gave you a new pair of gloves. They were long fingerless gloves, running up to your shoulders. Yet again, they were the same green as he is. You had supposed he had accidentally made it too long or miscalculated the proportions, only to read what he had stitched onto the sleeves of the gloves, using his signature purple.

MONTY LOVES YOU

Moon

- 974 words

Moon has always loved the way you fit into his hold. He loved how you leaned into his touch, how you whined softly whenever he stopped touching you for a second. He loved how you and him fit together like two lost puzzle pieces, only to find each other again. He felt like he was made only to make you happy, and it was a responsibility he took up with pride.

That was how you and him were at the moment - you were curled up in his arms, shivering slightly under Moon's touch. Moon had taken you to his bedroom, above the nursery of the daycare. Thanks to the recent upgrade that separated him and Sun, looking after the Daycare became much easier for them. Sun would be able to look after the rambunctious and energetic children, while Moon took the tired children for nap time. After that glitch while him and Sun were still in one body, it caused the children to be terrified of them. They were both extremely glad to be separated and to gain the children's trust again.

As there was no one sleeping in the nursery, Moon was spending his free time talking to you, Sun's helper. He had noticed that you were acting a little differently than usual, the way your forehead was slicked with sweat and how you stuttered with every response you gave him. After a quick scan, it was revealed that you had a fever. A baby fever, nothing to worry about but it was something that both Moon and Sun agreed that you needed rest. Keeping up with Sunny in the daytime was not easy, after all.

You were thankful for Moon being made of metal in this moment. His cool exterior against your warm skin made you sigh in content, relaxing against him immediately. You were so busy with looking after others, that you forgot to look after yourself.

His bedroom was extremely different to Sun's, no surprise there. Sun had a mattress on the floor, but it was covered in so many plushies that he never bothered to pull the mattress out. However, Moon's room was surprisingly similar to a bedroom you would find in IKEA, where there was simply a bed, a workspace and a cabinet to store items and clothes. It was just that the room was in his signature navy blue, along with glow in the dark stickers littered along the ceiling to resemble stars. On the vacant walls, Moon stuck photos of you, him and Sun, alongside drawings that the children had made for him.

"Is it too cold, my planet? Do you want me to increase the temperature?" Moon asks worriedly. You groan and clutch at him tighter, effectively trapping him in your grasp. "No, Moony. You're cold, I like that.." You protested sleepily.

You heard the soft crackle from his voicebox, his version of a chuckle. Through the bleariness of your vision, you see his faceplate spin with amusement. He moves closer than he already was, pressing his faceplate on your forehead. The coolness was just what you needed.

"Hush, now my dear. It's bed time.." He begins to hum, a soft lullaby version of the Daycare theme. "But the kids-" You begin, only to be cut off with a finger on your lips. "You don't want to get the kids sick, do you?" Moon asks. You shook your head, regretting that instantly as the dull throb from your headache returns. You winced and groaned softly, only for Moon to move his hand from your lips to the back of your head, massaging the throbbing area.

"Good, now go to sleep. You can play with them tomorrow, but let me take care of you for now.." Compared to Sun's loud and energetic voice, Moon's voice was smooth and silky - just what you needed to pull you deeper into the land of dreams.

As you drifted off in his arms, you felt Moon shift to press where his lips would be onto your forehead (you could tell, due to the small rectangles that were also softly pressing into your skin; his teeth) in a small kiss. Moon pulls his handmade knitted blanket over your body as gently as he could, before slipping out of his bed.

Just as he was about to open his door, it swung open, revealing Sun. He held a tray, a bowl of porridge and a bottle of water on it. He peered past Moon and into his mirror image's room, seeing you fast asleep on Moon's bed. "Are they okay?" Sun attempted to whisper. Though it was much softer than his normal booming tone, his voice was still loud.

They both watched in alarm as you shifted in your sleep, only for you to snuggle the Moon plushie that was next to your head. Moon sighed in relief. He grabbed the tray from Sun's hands and left it on the nightstand and rushed out the door. He glared at Sun, "You're still too loud, Sunny."

Sun slumped slightly. Had you been there, you knew he would he pouting, if he could, that is. "Sorry, Moony. Just wanted to make sure that our planet is okay," He apologised sheepishly. Moon waved a hand dismissively as he and Sun began walking back down the stairs to the Daycare.

A small line of children sat at the bottom of the stairs, instantly perking up when seeing the two jester animatronics. "Mr. Moon, will you be putting us to sleep?" A child asked, as they sleepily rubbed their eyes. Moon chuckled and picked up the child, guiding the children into the nursery. "Yes, yes. Come now,"

Sun watched delightedly as his mirror image looked after the children. Sun knew Moon always had it in him, the ability to be good with children.

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xnzlian · 2 years ago

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*casually appears and has small sweats cus they ask way too much*

I have a question- and also a confident message for you

Um- how long does it take you to draw your art? It doesn't include you making a big one and animation...

*they would sigh... they were filled with determination of giving the best confident boosted out there... well- if they could...*

Um- I wanna say that your art is amazing and so beautiful- and you were the one who gave me the Determination change my ways of having to draw sans's (cus I used to draw them as animals... don't judge me... I didn't know how to draw skellie heads) and also having to try and do that Challenge (and if it's still going) of making Slash with a Birb...

And I know (maybe- idk, im just a wolf who gives out confidence boosts) it take you a long time to come up with the right idea/drawing to show out to the world... and then you (might) give up on that drawing and start a new one... and that's okay (if you do it- cus idk) because it happens to artist... like me and other Creators...

*has a bit of doubt if this is not helping at all*

Your a unique and special Creater Rox- you have a cool art style, you made your own AU, and so much more! That's why I enjoy your content-

*realizes this is getting long* whoops... my bad- *they poof*

Ey ey don't say that, people are allowed to drown me with their questions cause i said so, its fun answering them!

Also it depends honestly! Sometimes I keep my drawing that I drew last month and decided to wait a few weeks or months later as a "backup" drawing in case I have art block! But to give you the straight answer is it usually takes about two hours and a half, depending on how much characters there are in the drawing, but yeah, not longer than 3 hours i guess-

But thank you!! ;0;

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lonelier-version-of-you · 3 years ago

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Anyway it’s S20E14 time, which means the arrival of Queen Abigail Tate :)

Edit 1: Ooh, I’d forgotten this was a Joe Ainsworth one!

Also, remember when stuff that happened in Holby actually had consequences for the hospital? In late Holby, Ric would’ve been right back to normal the minute he arrived at work, despite just having spent months in prison.

Edit 2: Abigail saying she could ask Henrik for advice on being CEO. DON’T, Abigail.

Edit 3: JASON’S HERE, SEND HELP. Also argh Serena going “why don’t we leave Mr. Griffin here to do what he does best??” Jason’s not a child, Serena, even if the writers think he is.

Edit 4: Extremely funny how obsessed these writers were with the word “sapphic” solely to avoid having to decide if Serena was a lesbian or bi.

Edit 5: Fantastic little bit of dialogue. Roxanna, regarding a patient’s risky surgery: “A risk only an addict would take.” The patient: “What does that make John Gaskell?”

Edit 6: Fun fact: you don’t need a risky surgery to have your sense of joy and happiness destroyed, you just need to watch the last 4 years of Holby.

Edit 7: JOHNRIK

Edit 8: I love Johnrik flirting. Also - Henrik wearing pinkish-purple and John wearing blue. Love that.

Edit 9: John talking about “knowing when to stop” like he’s ever been able to do that in his life.

Edit 10: Abi and Fletch was the most forced het romance.

Edit 11: John being baffled by the patient calling Rox “Foxy Roxy”. I tell you he’s gay.

Edit 12: Very early-Henrik esque behaviour from John regarding pushing the patient to have the operation.

Also I’d forgotten what the fuck Abi did to the CEO office. Guy Henry hated it too, actually - the reason they didn’t stick with the green paint was because Guy demanded they change back to a more subtle design once Henrik returned to being CEO.

Edit 13: I checked the interview, it sounds like he actually meant he didn’t like the design of the CEO office around the time he first came back for his second stint (so in 2015). Whatever. The 2018 design still sucks.

Edit 14: Anyway I swear I’m about to start screaming at this patient’s ableist mum lmao.

Edit 15: Serena very hypocritically trying to confront the ableist lady in question lmaooo.

Edit 16: The John and Rox relationship was really fascinating. Do wish so much of the storyline hadn’t been spent on repetitive arguments between the two of them though lol.

Edit 17: “You said ‘thank you Henrik’. What did you mean?” “Let’s focus on the task at hand.” I’d forgotten entirely about this scene! Probably because this one is another episode I haven’t seen since 2018.

Edit 18: John being crazy (affectionate) on main in this episode.

Edit 19: HENRIK

Edit 20: “John, if I hadn’t been there... would you have carried on?” :’))

Edit 21: Abi deserved better than the forced Fletch romance.

Edit 22: Ah, the archetypical Holby “patient makes their injury worse in the middle of an emotional outburst” scene.

Edit 23: The first of several Frankenstein comparisons with Gaskell.

Edit 24: When John says they could try the surgery again, the patient says “So he can still get the headline?”. John bows his head and doesn’t respond.

Edit 25: This whole scene with Ric wondering whether he still fits in at the hospital and considering leaving is really, really sad in light of Hugh Quarshie leaving the show because of how much it changed.

Edit 26: Love John inviting Rox onto the trial because Henrik suggested it.

Edit 27: This patient’s mum is driving me mad.

Edit 28: I had COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN this John and Abi scene existed.

Also lol. Abi saying to John “if you screw up, we all go down”. Actually he screwed up majorly and there was no aftermath to it.

#gaskell rewatch liveblog

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geo-winchester · 4 years ago

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I’ll be home for Christmas.

Summary: Eggsy was sent for a mission a few days before Christmas, his family thought they have to spend Christmas Eve without him, but he give them a surprise.

A/N: hey guys, I hope you’re doing well, so here’s another Christmas blurb, thanks to @farfromjustordinary for the request, I hope I didn’t disappoint you and I hope you like it! If anyone had another request send me an ask!

Holidays blurbs

—————————

Eggsy didn’t expect to be on a mission this time of the year, he imagine that this would be like any other year, he would help his wife making the food, help his children decorating the cookies while they listen to Christmas songs, watch Christmas movies with them or taking them to bed because they wait in the living room for Santa, he had everything plan but a few days before Christmas Harry send him for a mission, he want to refuse but he knew this was something important.

It supposed to be an easy mission, it supposed that he was just a tracking a guy but things get more complicated when they saw what kind of business he had. Every night he made the time to call his family, he heard what the kids do today and his wife try to tell him everything as if he was there. He look at the time on his phone before he call his wife.

-Hey, babe- she answered as fast as she could.

-Hey...

-What’s going on?- she asked worried.

-Nothing, how’s the night going, did you and the kids are having fun on Christmas Eve?- he asked.

-So that’s was about- she said -Babe, I know you want to be here but we know this job was important.

-I know, and I’ll be home soon- he said with a weak smile -What’s going on?

-Well, Rox try to help Michelle decorating the cookies, she end up eating most of the icing- she said laughing -then she want Icing too and they end up with a blue and green tongue- he laugh -they play with JB for an hour, Harry came over, he help me with the cook and he’s watching a movie with the kids... they ask him about you to day- she said.

-Really? What does he told them?

-He told them that their daddy was saving the world, now they think your an avenger- he laugh.

-I know you want me to be spider man- he said.

-What can I said, I have a thing for the guy who can climb walls.

-So that’s why you talk to me on the training room?- she hum in agreed and they laugh.

-Jesus babe... I wish you were here- she said in a soft voice.

-I know, listen I send you some gifts for you and the kids, Can you pick them up?

-Right now?- she asked him a little confuse.

-Yes! I want to hear your reaction...

-God Eggsy- he heard her walk to the door- if it’s the Pony Roxy is been asking for, you’re going to sleep on...- she stop talking when she opened the door and saw him standing on the porch, he smile at her.

-Is it better than a pony?- she nod in shock -ok I’m going to hang up...

-You’re here- she said before she run to him and hug him, almost making him fall -But how? Did you finish the mission?- he shook his head.

-I told you I’ll be home for Christmas- he said -We prepared everything so we could go home, beside Merlin is keeping an eye on the bad guys...- he couldn’t keep talking as she kiss him.

-Daddy?- a six year old girl asked from the frame of the door, when Eggsy smile the little girl run to him and he carried in his arms.

-Hey darling- he said with a big smile -were you having fun?- she nod.

-Mom let us decorate the cookies...

-And I realize that we have a couple of monster cookies- Yn said -We only have enough cookies for Santa.

-Grandpa Harry is here, he fall sleep with Michelle- the little girl smile.

-Do you want to do something fun?- Eggsy asked but his wife, stooped him.

-You ain’t going to scare them, you’re going to give the man a heart attack...

-Thank you for defending me, Yn- Harry said with Michelle on his arms -But I’m not that old- he said before he look at Eggsy and smile -I’m glad your home Eggsy, merry Christmas.

-Thank you Harry, and thank you for keep an eye on this little monsters.

-My pleasure.

They spend most of the night on the living room, after they had dinner on, the kids start to asked them questions about how they saved the world, of course they didn’t extend in every detail, they take pictures of the kids opening their presents, they take a picture of Harry with the ugly sweater they give him. Yn knew it was late when they went to bed but she didn’t want that night to end, she want to spend all the possible time with her husband, she want to spend all the time she could with her family. Know she was waiting for Eggsy to came back from down stair, when he finally get back he had the cookies they left on the living room and sit beside her as they took a cookie.

-Let me guess, our kids were on the couch, right?- He nod.

-They’re starting to grow, it’s was more difficult to take them to their beds.

-Or you’re getting older- she jokes making him rolled his eyes -At what time do you have to come back?- she asked after a moment, he bring her close to him.

-I had to get back tomorrow- she just nod -Hey it’s ok, we’re almost done and your handsome husband will save the world again... and you know what that mean- he winked at her making her smile.

-About that... there’s another present I want to give to you- she said as she went to her dresser and came back with a box in her hands, he look at her with curious. He start to open it excited to know what is it, when he open the box he took a little shirt that had something write it.

-Third is the charm?- he asked confuse until something -Wait... is this?- she nod -how, when..

-I found out a few days ago, and I’m thinking it happened when you saved the world last month- she said.

-Fuck, we’re having another baby- but she punch Him on the arm.

-Language...

-Sorry, we’re having a baby- he said with a smile and took her cheeks before he kiss her -Definitely this is the best Christmas gift.

-I hope you remind that when you have to change dippers again- they laugh before they lay side by side as they cuddle.

-I’m really excited about this- he said -Now I don’t want to go tomorrow- he start to play with her hair but before she could say or do something he low to her belly -Hey there, it’s your dad, I’m really excited that you’re there- he said -I have to go tomorrow, but I promise your beautiful mom and your amazing sisters that I’ll come back soon, I’ll be there to hear your heartbeat and lie to your mom that I saw you on the ultrasound- she laugh -but I love little bug.

-We love you too- she said, he kiss his wife.

-Merry Christmas darling.

-Merry Christmas babe.

#eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy x reader #eggsy imagine #taron egerton x reader #taron x reader

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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

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Love’s in the Little Things - SherryBaby14′s Prompt Challenge

Prompt: Steve and a musician. Like she plays the piano and writes her own music; does small gigs here and there. They meet while he’s at one of her gigs, would bond over music. Sex on he Piano. Something intimate, soothing and musical.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

Summary: A little story following the progression of Steve and a musician falling in love. With a little added extra at the end!

Warnings: Smut, Love-making, FLUFF! A tiny dash of Angst, Mentions of death

Words: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Thank you @sherrybaby14 for this lovely prompt. I got the opportunity to join my two passions together - writing and music. Stick around till the end of the fic for a little bonus tidbit (written and performed by yours truly)!

Also - I switched the timeline around involving some character deaths to suit my own person story needs.

***

“You realize this is the fifth time he’s been in here this month. If you don’t make a move now, he may never come back,” said Roxy, pouring you your pre-performance liquid courage.

“Oh please, Rox. He’s just here with his friends. I highly doubt he’s here to see me,” you scoffed, knocking back the shot. The alcohol burned as it trickled down your throat, the effects immediately going to your head, giving you a light, fuzzy feeling. In reality, the shot wouldn’t hit your blood stream for at least a few minutes, but the placebo effect also did wonders for your confidence.

It didn’t matter how many times you did this – got up on stage in front of people and performed for them – it was still nerve wracking. Older musicians always advised you that it would get easier with time. One day you’d feel more comfortable on stage than you did off. Well, five years and you were still waiting for that day. Therefore, the last thing you needed was the ridiculous notion that Captain America was coming to a little dive bar to hear you perform. It was too much pressure.

“I’d consider that true if it weren’t for the fact that he only ever comes in here when you’re here.” Roxy, one of your closest friends and the bartender at your regular paying gig location, eyed you and then the group of gargantuan superheroes in the far corner. There were three of them tonight. Sometimes there’d be more, a few more guys and the occasional girl, but no matter what, it was always those three. You were pretty sure you knew who they were – it was hard not to. There was Sam (The Falcon); he was usually the chattiest out of the three, flirting with women and loudly cracking jokes. Then there was the moody one, Bucky you thought his name was; he was quiet but seemed good-humored and kind behind the eyes. Lastly, there was Steve. He was somewhere in the middle. Livelier than Bucky, but not nearly as attention seeking as Sam. And, for lack of trying you couldn’t help but notice the way he watched you with rapt attention every time you performed. You figured it was just him being a polite audience member. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. What could Captain America possibly want with a dive bar musician?

“Coincidence at best. Besides, how could he possibly know what nights I’m performing? They line-up isn’t posted,” you reasoned, checking your makeup in the mirror behind the bar.

“True, but who’s to say he didn’t come up to the bar one night and ask for the monthly line-up? And who’s to say I didn’t give him a copy with all your performance nights highlighted?” Roxy proposed, looking away from you to polish a glass and place it on the shelf behind her.

“What? You didn’t!” you exclaimed, chancing a glance at the super soldier to see his eyes trained on you, before looking away bashfully to his friends, who immediately began to give him a hard time. Or at least you assumed that’s what they were doing based on the teasing punches and boyish looks they gave you and then him. Your gut flipped. Maybe Roxy was lying to get on your nerves. That had to be the only plausible option.

“Alright—” began the DJ, Matthew, stopping the music and bringing everyone’s attention to the stage “—tonight we have a regular to the stage. If you’re an alcoholic then you’ve seen her here plenty of times, and if this is your first time joining us, welcome but what took you so long?” A smattering of laughter flitted across the bar. Looking back over, you found Steve smiling politely at the joke. God he was handsome…

“Give it up for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!”

Applause filled the air as you walked to the stage, exchanging niceties with Matthew before sitting down to the piano. You breathed deeply, trying to quell your nerves, but that night they seemed to be on overdrive. Heart rate elevated, the alcohol in your stomach burned. Closing your eyes, you placed your fingers to the keys and let the familiarity of them calm you. You could do this. Going into a simple chord progression, you began the intro to your first song. It was a simple little number, nothing too controversial, too fast, or too slow. Just enough of a pep to grab the people’s attention, without being assaulting to the ears. It was fun and you always found it livened the room up nicely. By the time it was over, your nerves had cooled a bit, but your hands still possessed a subtle tremor. So, diverting from the normal path, you did a cover for your second song. A tried and true rendition of Falling in Love with Love by Fred Astaire. The chords and words were familiar like a childhood blanket, the song bringing you back to watching your mom and dance in the kitchen as a child. It was when you moved into your original work again, a sweet little thing about sunny mornings and fresh spring mountains, that your eyes caught Steve’s as you looked out into the crowd. The dim fluorescents of the bar lights illuminated him like a spotlight, swirls of dust floating around his figure in the musty bar air. Illuminated in hazy golden light, he looked as though the heavens had opened up to present him just for you. Flaxen haired and clear, blue eyes, he looked reminiscent of another time. And you guessed, he technically was. But he looked at you like a man seeing a beautiful piece of artwork for the first time – his gaze so intense, so openly earnest and honest, you couldn’t help but stare back.

You didn’t look away the whole time.

After your set, you found yourself sticking around – something you almost never did. But you knew you couldn’t just flee from the establishment like normal. Not when you performed for one person and one person only that night. After about twenty minutes you began to wonder if you had been wrong. Maybe the connection had been in your head. No, it definitely wasn’t in your head. Maybe you should just go up to him? After all, this was the 21st century. Women approached men all the time. But then again, he was from a different time. What if he found it insulting? Or too forward? You were still debating the pros and cons of the situation when a tap on your shoulder brought you out of your musings.

Looking up and expecting to see Roxy or maybe even Steve, you were surprised to see his friend.

“Hey, I’m Bucky. I just have to say, great performance tonight,” he said casually, extending a hand.

You took it tentatively, shaking his hand. Confused as to why he was talking to you but not wanting to be rude you gave him a small smile, “Thanks. I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you Bucky.”

“Listen, I’m gonna cut straight to the point. I need a favor from you (Y/N).” Bucky proposed, running a hand through his slicked brown hair.

Intrigued, you leaned against the bar top behind you, “Okay, I’ll bite. What can I do for you?”

“You see my friend over there?” He pointed across the bar to Steve, who was currently looking anywhere but at the two of you. “Well, I’ve got a bit of a problem, because he keeps dragging us to this bar every weekend and as much as I like it here, I just want a quiet Saturday night in, ya know? Now, he’d never admit that he told me this, but he thinks you’re pretty much the coolest thing since sliced bread – which is a high compliment as he was actually there for the invention of sliced bread.”

“Is that so?” you asked, trying to suppress the wave of giddiness his words created.

“Yea, he looks great for his age, right?”

“So, what’s the favor then?”

“Well—” he began, drawing his face into an exaggerated eyeroll “—for some reason, while the man is completely unfazed by jumping out of exploding buildings, he can’t build up the courage to come and talk to you. So, your favor to me, would be to just look over there and wave him over so that I can go home and watch The Great British Bake Off.”

“The Great British Bake Off? Really?”

Bucky shrugged, “It’s heartwarming and educational.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him. But what about your other friend? Mister Tall, Dark, and Goofy?” you asked, looking to Sam who was currently attempting to tell your golden-haired man some kind of story that required an enormous amount of arm movement. The comment earned you a guffaw from Bucky.

“Him? He’ll be fine. He’s already got the bartender’s number. I think they’re leaving together after her shift is over.”

Jaw dropping in shock, you looked to Roxy and pointed to Sam in question. She shrugged, an excited smile on her face as she turned back to her customers.

“Alright,” you agreed, shaking your head. “Go enjoy Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood. I’ll take good care of your friend.”

***

“What?! That can’t possibly be true. I feel like you’re lying to me right now.”

“No, it’s the honest to God truth. Bing Crosby came right up to me and shook my hand,” said Steve, large hands wrapped around his beer bottle as he told you probably the coolest story you’d ever heard.

Sitting back in your chair heavily, you let out a huff of air, “Wow…I mean…wow. I guess being a war hero really does come with some perks.”

“I don’t know if I would call myself a war hero…”

“Oh, so he’s modest too. Tell me, is there anything you’re bad at?” you asked, teasingly.

“There’s plenty of things I’m bad at,” scoffed Steve.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, name some. What is the great Captain America bad at?” You lifted an eyebrow in challenge, unable to keep the smile from your face as you looked at the man in front of you.

“Well, for one thing, I can’t flirt with a pretty dame without help from my friend—”

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it yourself right now,” you interrupted, giving him a wry grin from across the small bar table.

Cheeks tinging a light shade of pink, Steve took a moment to drink from the bottle in his hand before continuing, “I can’t dance. Seriously, all I do is sway. I have trouble tying a tie. It always comes out crooked, no matter how many times I do it. Oh! And I’m a horrible singer. Couldn’t carry a tune to save my life – unlike some people.”

It was your turn to feel the heat form on your face, “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”

“Well, I’d show you, but I doubt anyone else here would appreciate it,” said Steve. At his comment the two of your looked around the bar to realize there wasn’t anyone else there to bother with his singing.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “What time is it?”

Checking his watch, Steve’s eyebrows lifted almost all the way to his hairline, “Three in the morning. Doesn’t this place close at two?”

“Yea, it does. I can’t believe Roxy didn’t kick us out.” Pulling out your phone you found a text from the woman in question.

Roxy:

You seemed a little too patriotic to interrupt. Have fun and lock the door on your way out. ;)

“I guess we should probably get out of here, huh?” you suggested, standing and grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. Steve stood too, taking his bottle and your glass to the bar and disposing of them appropriately. Walking across the stage, you went to turn out the lights on the far wall when you stopped. Looking at the piano in front of you, you turned back to Steve.

“While we’re here, do you want a free concert?”

“Depends…what are you playing?” asked Steve, rounding the bar and coming to sit on the bench next to you.

“Anything you want. I’m open for requests,” you announced, brushing your fingers across the keys and playing out a small arpeggio.

“How about one of yours?” Steve suggested, surprising you.

“Really? Out of all the music in the world, you wanna’ listen to mine?”

“Of course, it’s my favorite. Haven’t missed a show all month.”

***

Too early. It was absolutely too early for your phone to be ringing. But there it was, laying on the mattress next to you annoyingly loud. You contemplated throwing it across the expanse of your small loft, but ultimately decided that you were in no way financially able to afford a new phone. So instead, you swiped your thumb across the screen and held it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey! (Y/N)!” Steve’s chipper voice rang through the line, bringing you out of your sleepy stupor.

“Steve, hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying not to sound like you just woke up. Unfortunately, you were unable to suppress the yawn that escaped the back of your throat.

“Oh jeez, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You could already hear the apology on the tip of his tongue.

“No, no. I’m always up at this time. It’s—” you looked over to the clock on the wall “—Five thirty. Five thirty?!”

“Sorry. I’ve been up for hours. I guess I didn’t realize it was still so early,” Steve apologized. You could hear the distant bustle of city life behind him; why was everyone in D.C. such early risers?

Sighing internally, you concluded it was probably better you get up now. You were due at your day job soon anyway. Sitting up and swinging your legs out of the warm cocoon of blankets, you stretched out, bringing life to your body, “It’s fine. Really. You get to hear me make coffee though. I desperately need coffee.”

The soft, nervous laugh on the other end of the phone made you smile as you padded barefoot to your small kitchen. “I will gladly listen to you make coffee, if it makes up for the fact that I woke you up,” said Steve, his words causing butterflies to form in the pit of your stomach. You had to stop for a moment, hand paused on your kettle as you tried to keep your head. When you failed to respond right away, Steve went on, “Anyway, I just called to tell you, that I had a really great time the other night.”

“Me too,” you replied, placing the kettle on the stove and turning it on, before grabbing the coffee from the cupboard.

“I was wondering if you wanted to do it again. Preferably sometime soon?”

“I don’t think the manager will let us stay so late after closing again. Even if I do technically work there,” you teased, grabbing the French press and filling it with a few spoonfuls of coffee.

“I don’t know, I bet you could convince them to let us stay. You seem like you’d be able to talk any man into doing just about anything,” Steve teased back.

“Really, is that so?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe not any man – maybe just me.”

***

It was a nice, sunny spring day. Summer was just around the corner and midafternoons were beginning to warm up considerably. You were on your lunch break, iced lemonade in hand as you walked through President’s Park with Steve. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear in response to the light breeze, you glanced down to make sure that the skirt of your sundress was still in place. The last thing you needed to do was accidentally flash him on your first official date.

“Obviously performing at the bar isn’t your only job if this is your lunch break. Tell me about your day job,” said Steve, walking idly next to you, hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“I’m actually a music teacher,” you answered, taking a sip of your lemonade.

“Really?” asked Steve, a hint of pleasant surprise in his voice.

“Yea, I guess you could say music pervades every part of my life,” you answer with a laugh.

“Do you like it?”

“I really do. Enough to do it for the rest of my life at least. I mean – performing is fun, but I don’t know if I could do it for a living. I’m much happier teaching kids how to read music or play an instrument.” The two of you came to a small park bench and sat down under the shade of a large tree.

“So, no dreams of being big and famous?”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “No. Absolutely not. I don’t think I could handle the pressure.”

“Yea, it definitely isn’t easy,” Steve sighed, looking down at the ground between his spread legs. At his comment, you realized how insensitive you must have sounded. For a second you had completely forgotten than he was Captain America – a famous household name. To you, he was just Steve Rogers, the man with a warm smile and a genuine aura that emanated throughout and around him.

“I think it was my music teacher in high school that really made me want to be a teacher,” you said, changing the subject. “She was always encouraging me to pursue my music and creativity. Which was great to hear when no one else in my life seemed to care much at the time. Who was your favorite teacher growing up?”

Steve seemed to perk up at your question, looking out into the expanse of the park as he pondered his answer, “Probably my art teacher. I always liked to doodle and draw, but he was the first person to tell me I had talent. After that, I actually took a few classes at the local college. Nothing too fancy, but I learned a lot about techniques and different mediums.”

“So, you’re an artist?”

“Well, I don’t know if I would call myself an artist…”

“There you go again being modest. Tell me, do you make art? Do you put pencil to paper or paint to canvas and makesomething with it?” you asked in a guiding manner.

“Yea, I guess—”

“Then you’re an artist! I bet you have a pencil and sketch pad on you right now. Am I wrong?”

Steve looked at you in bewilderment, before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small notebook, “How did you know?”

“Because, you’re an artist! And, I may have seen the outline of it earlier when we were walking,” you admitted.

“Were you checking out my ass?”

The question caught you off guard, leaving you gawking at the surprisingly forward question. Steve laughed at you, indicating that he was obviously teasing, and you slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Maybe I was. It’s a nice ass,” you teased back. “Now show me some of your drawings. You’ve seen all of my creative genius; I want to see yours.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t I draw something now and you can be the judge of whether it’s accurate or not?”

“Okay—” you looked around, trying to determine what would be the best thing for him to sketch “—that’s even better. How about that flower bed over there?”

“Nah, I think I see something much prettier,” responded Steve. Looking back at him, you found him already sketching away, pencil to the paper of his notebook as he glanced between it and you. He was drawing you. “No, no. Look back over that way,” he instructed. “The light was catching you perfectly.”

You did as he said, directing your gaze back towards the flower bed, the soft sound of pencil scratches mixing with the chirping of birds, and murmur of people walking by. Stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he worked. Brow knitted in concentration, jaw relaxed, and soft pink lips parted, long, straight lashes brushing his cheekbones every time he blinked; it was in that moment you came to realization that you could watch him like this forever.

“Hey, no peaking,” he pouted, catching you staring when he looked back up at you for reference. You looked away, training your eye on a couple of squirrels chasing each other across the lawn. Perfectly content, you sat listening to him work until his voice broke the silence.

“Okay, all done.”

Turning back towards him, you scooted down the bench till you were hip to hip, peering into his lap to view his hard work. The sight took your breath away, a soft gasp moving past your lips as you stared at yourself in graceful strokes of graphite. He was right. The lighting had been perfect. Somehow, he managed to capture the rays of sun catching the side of your face, illuminating you like you glowed from the inside out. You held a small smile at the corner of your mouth and your eyes held a wistful romance to them as little tendrils of hair danced around your face. He even sketched some of your sundress – scribbling the lace and little pattern of peaches at the neckline. You were beautiful. He had made you beautiful.

Speechless, you stared at the sketch and then back up at Steve who looked down at you with an apprehensive expression. You beamed at him before gushing, “It’s amazing Steve. Thank you.”

Maybe it was a bit too soon. Maybe you should have waited till the third date, or even the second, but something just felt so right in that moment. Lifting up, you pressed your lips to his, the soft warmth of his mouth comfortable and exciting all at the same time. Brushing your lips against his softly, your heart fluttered when he did the same, kissing you back tentatively. When his large hand came to cup your face, you melted into him craving the feel of his firm hand against your soft skin. Surprisingly gentle for his size, but not for his demeanor, he kissed you like you were a flower and he a gentle breeze, caressing your petals with a tender confidence.

Pulling away, you found a softness in his eyes and in his smile that made your heart clench. It felt so strange to be already so enamored by a person you had just met. But you couldn’t help the lightness that coursed through your body when it came to him.

***

“You know, you really don’t have to keep coming to all of my gigs. You’ve already got the girl,” you half-joked to Steve as he swung your guitar over his shoulder and lifted your heavy amp with ease. Two months. That’s how long you’d been sharing early morning phone calls and lunch-time walks through the city. Peppering in the occasional dinner date, Saturday matinees at the theatre, and him attending every single one of your gigs, things were really beginning to click. However, you couldn’t help but shake the familiar monster of apprehension and doubt.

You knew perfectly well where your feelings stood with Steve, but did he feel the same way?

You’d been hurt in the past. Partners that left you guessing and clawing for any type of validation and affirmation that you were important to them. Countless hours spent worrying and wishing that they’d just show up like they said they would, and without complaint or snide remarks. Therefore, when Steve actually showed up, it felt obligatory – like he was doing everything right not because he wanted to, but because he felt like he had to.

“Do you not want me to come?” Steve asked as the two of you left the bar and headed down the street to your building.

“No—yes—I mean, of course I want you to be there. I just mean, it can’t be very fun for you to be in a smoky bar listening to me play the same ten songs over and over again. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there when you don’t want to be.” You couldn’t believe how stupid and insecure you sounded as you said the words, but at the same time you needed to say it. At the very least it would be an out for him to take, no matter how sad it made you seem.

“Hey.” Steve stopped you, grabbing you by the wrist and turning you towards him. “I’d listen to you play a rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel over and over again for the rest of my life, if that’s what you were passionate about. I love your music and I love listening to you play it. You’re my girl. I’m gonna’ be there to support my girl.”

Moving your hand, you intertwined your fingers with his. Unable to find the words to express to him how much his proclamation had meant to you, you simply nodded as tears of relief and happiness began to well in your eyes. Silently, he disentangled his hand from yours and reached up, thread his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck. He pulled you into him, bending down to kiss you sweetly, but firmly. His kiss was a promise and a reassurance that he was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. The flutter of your eyelashes as they closed pushed a single tear down the side of your cheek, the warm wetness of it rolling until it reached the line of your jaw. Steve pulled away from you, using his thumb to wipe the stray tear from your face.

“Stay the night with me tonight?” you asked, the words leaving you like a physical need.

Steve’s eyes widened in response, before searching your face for any sign that you didn’t mean what you said. But you did.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

The room was lit by only moonlight as you slowly undressed. Each article of clothing removed, revealing more of your body and more of your soul to the man in front of you. Reverently he sat at the edge of your bed, shirt and shoes already removed, as he watched you bare yourself to him. Once completely free of your clothes, you were overtaken by a wave of insecurity, wanting nothing more than to cover yourself, but the sound of Steve’s voice broke you of the urge.

“Come here,” he whispered, eyes shining in the darkness.

Tentatively you stepped towards him, toes digging into the plush rug sat under your bed. He guided you onto his lap, his hands ghosting over the skin at your sides as he took you in. Steve looked at you the way he looked at you the first night you spoke – like a man seeing a beautiful piece of artwork for the first time. The heat of his gaze made you both unbearably aroused and unbearably uncomfortable. Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed him, a mesh of lips and tongues that left you breathless and wanting. Moving your hands down his chest, you felt the unyielding muscle under warm skin. Like a Greek god, sculpted by the greatest minds of the renaissance, he was gorgeous. The feeling of his mouth connecting with one of your nipples stole the breath from your lungs, making you keen with desire as you arched into him.

He continued to lavish your chest, switching between breasts as he kissed, licked, sucked, and nipped. Within no time, you were putty in his hands, a garbled mess of pleasure and want. When you thought you couldn’t take any more, he flipped you over, placing you gently onto the mattress and pulling away to remove the last of his clothing. Standing in front of you, stripped and vulnerable, you had the lucid thought that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

Climbing over you, he kissed his way up your body, leaving little bites and marks from your hip bone to your neck. You felt the hot, weight of him at your center, causing your hips to buck in response. A small whimper escaped you as he slid his length up and down your folds, grinding into you as bit down on your lower lip. Hot and wet and hard, he eased into you slowly, watching your face as he did. Eyes endlessly light blue, he stared into your soul as he panted heavily at the tight feel of you around him. Impossibly full of him and only him, you took deep breaths as you adjusted to it. Pulling your arms from around his back, he pinned your hands to the pillows behind your head, threading his fingers with yours as he pulled out of you slowly and pushed back in. The sweet friction was enough to make you sing.

Steadily, his pace picked up speed as he rocked in and out of you. And while neither of you had said the words, he made love to you like they had been uttered a thousand times before. Your sweat-slicked bodies glided over each other as he fucked into with a devotion unlike any other. And you did the same, your hands and lips amorously worshipping his body as he brought you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Fingers plucking and hands strumming, it was as if the two of you were making music of your own, playing each other like instruments in the moon-soaked bedroom. The sweet sound built and built, an orchestration of harmonious balance rising higher and higher until you both reached the peak of your crescendo, only to fall blissfully from it in a lilting melody.

Laying in the aftermath of your song, you couldn’t help but think the words: I love this man.

***

“You really should eat something,” you said once again, pointing to the tray of untouched room service breakfast.

“I told you. I’m not hungry,” Steve snapped, moving in front of the mirror to tie his tie.

You sighed quietly to yourself. It had been a hard week. For both of you. This was not the first time Steve had been short with you today and you expected it would not be the last. Then of course, you couldn’t blame him. You were going to a funeral after all. Grabbing your cup of coffee from the tray, you wordlessly excused yourself to the bathroom to finish your makeup. Once in the crippling silence of the surrounding white tile, you braced yourself against the bathroom counter and took deep, calming breaths. You could do this. You had to be able to do this. For you. For your relationship. But most importantly, for Steve.

And you were trying, really you were, but nothing had prepared you for this. Although, you doubted anything really could. Supporting your boyfriend through the death of a past love was not an everyday scenario. He was trying to keep it together; you knew he was. You could see the sadness in his eyes and on his face when he thought you weren’t looking. But you were always looking. It was not easy watching him mourn the loss of another woman. It brought up all the ugly insecurities you tried to mask and move past. In no way did you blame him either. Peggy was an important part of his life – a part that you would never fully understand – and he had loved her. You respected that, but it didn’t stop the evil thoughts that crept into your mind. The ones that whispered things like he would never love you like he loved her, that this loss would make him realize that you were nothing but second best, that he would realize that you weren’t good enough. Shaking the nagging voices away, you unzipped your makeup bag and began pulling out the items you needed.

Steve cared for you; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked you to be here with him. He wouldn’t have flown you all the way to London with him for this funeral. He wouldn’t be depending on you for support and companionship. All of this you knew, but every jab and harsh word left you feeling more and more doubt. Of course, this was not Steve’s fault. He was grieving and if that meant you had to be strong for the both of you, then so be it. You would put your hurt aside and put on a brave face so that Steve could be the weak one. He deserved, at the very least, that.

Brushing on a bit of mascara and pulling out a sensible lip color, the sound of a light knock brought your attention to the exit of the bathroom. Steve, in black suit and tie, stood in the doorway, hair neatly jelled and tie crooked. He pointed to the askew item of clothing in utter defeat, a hopeless expression on his face. You set your lipstick down and crossed the room to him, reaching for his tie and undoing it before going through the familiar routine.

“I’m sorry.”

Too engrossed with the movement of your hands, you didn’t look up when you answered, keeping your voice light and casual, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” You finished the knot, straightening it snuggly against his Adams Apple and giving the length of the tie a little pat. He caught your hands before you could bring them down to your sides, holding them in his own and bringing them up to lightly kiss your fingers.

“Thank you for being here with me. I don’t think I could have done this without you.” His words were honest and sincere and meant the world to you. The fact that even when he was falling apart at the seams, he still cared enough to keep your emotions in mind, held more weight than any cynical thought your brain could create.

Standing on tiptoes, you held his face in your hands and looked into the depths of his blue eyes, “Today is going to absolutely suck. It really is. And I’m so sorry that it has to happen. But I’m right here. Anything you need, I’m right here. I promise.”

Steve nodded, his eyes becoming misty and red. Silently, the two of you exited the bathroom and grabbed your things. You, a coat and purse; him, a coat and a slice of toast.

You were just out the door, Steve following behind when you felt the soft brush of his fingers as he tucked in the tag of your blouse. The act though small and seemingly insignificant, was like a whispered proclamation on your skin. A murmured promise of I love you.

***

A year and a half and blissfully content, you lounged in your bed, staring at the expanse of Steve’s naked back as he stood in front of the kitchen sink. Muscles rolling and flexing, he scrubbed at the dishes from dinner.

“How is it, that I always end up doing all the cooking and cleaning when this is your apartment?” Steve asked teasingly over his shoulder as you stretched out in satisfaction across the bed, sheets still wrinkled and twisted from your after dinner ‘dessert’.

You laughed, rolling over and smiling lazily in his direction, “Because you’re a much better cook and you love me.”

Steve chuckled, a short, barking sound you had come to know as sarcastic, “I don’t know what me loving you has to do with getting stuck doing the dishes every night.”

“Shall I play you a song to make the job easier?” you asked, reaching over the foot of the bed and pulling up your guitar from its careless place on the ground. You pushed yourself into a sitting position against the headboard and began to strum a series of chords.

“Mmmm, I guess that’s a fair payment,” Steve responded warmly.

“I knew you’d say that!” you exclaimed happily, starting into one of Steve’s personal favorites.

A half hour later, dishes done, and Steve now laid on the bed with his head propped up on your outstretched legs, you were still playing. Languidly, you plucked and strummed through all the songs you knew until you found yourself playing something you hadn’t planned on showing him yet. He picked up immediately on the unfamiliar progression, turning his head to look at you.

“I haven’t heard that one before, what is it?” he asked, running his fingertips tenderly up and down your bare calf.

“Just something new I’ve been working on,” you answered sheepishly, continuing to repeat the first few chords.

“Something new? What’s it about?”

“You.”

Your profession took him by surprise, a delighted smile spreading across his face as he looked up at you, “You wrote a song about me?”

“Maybe,” you answered, nudging his far shoulder with your toes.

“Is it a sad song?” he asked playfully as he turned his head to stare up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not a sad song.”

“Oh no, is it an angry song?”

You giggled, “Definitely not.”

“A happy song?” he questioned once more, knowing full well that that was the answer all along.

“Yes. It’s a happy song. A very happy song,” you stated, looking down at him and wondering how in the world you got so lucky. “The happiest song, actually.”

“Well then, play away.”

And you did. You played, pouring every ounce of love and adoration into the melody and lyrics, as Steve listened quietly, looking at you like the world began and ended with that one song. You played knowing that you had never been happier than in that moment, and you played knowing that life could only get better from there on out.

To listen to the song written for Steve, please follow this link: https://soundcloud.com/user-144129307/steves-song

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

@grincheveryday

#lemons #fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #fluff #love #angst #music

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oceaneyesinla · 4 months ago

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Roxyyyy 11, 14, 27, and 35 （＾◇＾)/~~~

Hellooooo!! 😘

11) what do you consider to be romance?

This might not exactly meet the criteria here, but the first thing I thought of was a story about my parents. My dad worked away a lot when I was growing up, and he was usually away all week and only home on the weekends. He was working long hours and my mom was obviously looking after me alone, but they ALWAYS spoke to each other every night. It's not some bold gesture or big moment - it's just two people wanting to talk to their partner about their day. It didn't really strike me as that important when I was a kid but now it's one of my fondest memories

14) what's something you've always wanted to do but maybe been too scared to do?

Lol everything thanks anxiety

I want to travel, but I'd be doing it alone and it always feels like a huge big scary thing. I don't mind doing things alone tbh, but the thought of being somewhere unfamiliar is pretty daunting. I want to go to America again, and I want to go to Japan. I might try baby steps and go to like, Edinburgh or something first - technically leaving the country but not really???

27) any nicknames?

Rox is the go to. Roxy is technically short for my full name but it doesn't feel like one because everyone calls me that?? I always get a warm fuzzy feeling when people call me Rox because it feels like they're shortening my name which feels like friendship. The other one is Rokka, which only my dad ever calls me (don't ask how he got to that, I do not know, but it's been my nickname from him since I was little)

35) do you trust easily?

Yes and no. Generally I wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm very open with people and I try to see the best. My aim is to be full of love at all times and to help as many people as i can. I do struggle to reach out when I'm actually in need of help though. I'm great at helping other people, and I can give some GREAT advice - I'm just not good at letting people in in return. I also sometimes don't trust that other people genuinely like me, but I'm trying to get better with that!

ask me fun questions!

#rox answers #im sorry mari my love you got an essay here #unfortunately when im comfortable with people i become a yapper

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myloveforhergoeson · 8 months ago

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☀️ for rox and the guys!

☀️ - Describe your characters’ school day morning routine. Do they have any unique habits?

ohhh this one is so cute!! tysm for the question <33

i'm going to treat this as "before the palm woods" so how they'd be on a school day back in Minnesota :)

roxy: oh miss girl... since she takes the night shift at the radio station, her routine is all kinds of messed up lol. she typically works weekdays 2am-6am, with school starting around 7:25am! so, when she gets home around 3ish, she's heading straight to bed lol. but, she typically wakes up around the time her dad gets home to have dinner together before she takes another nap and gets up about an hour and a half before she leaves for work. it's then she showers, gets dressed, does her makeup, and she packs her bag for school. typically she wears pjs to work since she's the only one in the station at that time, but she brings a pair of clothes to wear to school too! homework is done while she's on the clock lol. that is essentially her 24 hours break down on the weekdays, pretty unique i'd say...

james: homie is up at the ass crack of dawn 😭 most days at least! i think he's pretty strict about his bed time and sleep cycle - he wants to make sure he has eight whole hours of rest! from there, i imagine a min-work out of some kind either like stretching at the very least ranging to maybe even a short run around the neighborhood! when he gets home, he eats, showers, dives into his skin and haircare routine, then he gets dressed! i feel like it's pretty typical, yet he spends a lottt of time getting ready. and if he doesn't get his precious 8 hours he'll forgo the morning work out! catches a ride with a friend to school around 7:15ish

carlos: oh sweet boy... he's waking up 30 minutes before he has to leave for school and praying he's able to get everything done in time. i feel like he's a night showerer, so he pretty much just has to get dressed, comb his hair, and go! most of his struggles include making sure his hockey and schools bags are fully packed and ready to go! he often leaves things behind because of his short time window. definitely prioritizes sleep over all else in the morning. grabs a snack on the way out the door and catches a ride with the same friend as james to school!

kendall: i feel like he, katie, and jennifer all have a pretty similar routine. they all wake up around the same time and have breakfast, before jennifer heads off to get ready and Katie and kendall have to fight for the bathroom. because katie usually ends up on top, kendall takes ultra quick showers and doesn't spend too much time getting ready before heading out the door. usually ends up using the extra time he has while waiting for his sister to finish any homework or make sure his bags are all packed! if he has to skip a morning shower, he'll take one when he gets home from practice. hitches a ride from the same friend as above

logan: similar to james, logan is also an early riser! but that's typically because he's perfecting the last of his schoolwork or finding himself lost in a good book! i think he's up late reading and up equally early reading loll but he does his best to quickly get ready and meet his family for breakfast in the kitchen! from then, he catches a ride as mentioned and heads to school!

eee this is so fun! thank you for asking!! <3

find an emoji and ask away!

#ash talks tasw #bishounenbtr #thats all she wrote fic

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actress4him · 4 years ago

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So, this isn’t DoD related, but some of my readers ( @nevquariel and @coolmegan123 , specifically) were interested in hearing more about the other KH project I have in the works. As I mentioned in the comments of my last post, I started writing it while editing Sorrow’s Promise, and have dabbled with it off and on since then, though not for a while. I’m not sure when it will get finished and posted, I may take a break from KH for a little bit after I finish DoD, but we’ll see.

This story is multi-chap but stand alone, not a series. It’s really unlike anything else I’ve written. I generally stick with at least partially canon-verse in my fanfiction, but this one is definitely an AU, and not just by being canon-divergent or having an original character. Nope, this is set in a completely different world, in my own, made-up era, and only the characters (and a few fun parallels to canon here and there) stay the same. I’ve tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible, though Sora is the most changed just because of his circumstances. We see more of the real Sora in the flashbacks at the beginning of every chapter.

TL;DR, aka the tagline for the story -

In which Sora is Roxas, Xemnas is a mobster, Kairi is an actual princess, Axel is everyone's slightly unstable big brother, and Riku just wants to fix his mistakes...but what's new about that?

Starring Sora and Riku, with Axel and Naminé in primary support roles, Xion, Kairi, and Saix in secondary support roles, and pretty much every other KH character you can think of as the ensemble.

And now, because I love to spoil you guys, a sneak peek at chapter 1, below the cut. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Sora stumbled off of the train car and into Central Station, bumping right into Riku's back. The older boy had halted in his path and was gazing around at the grand building, and Sora followed suite, eyes wide with wonder. There were so many people everywhere. They had never encountered a crowd quite like this one back at home.

As they began moving forward again, Sora reached out and clung to Riku's shirt, afraid that they might get separated. Soon they found themselves being swept out the front door and into the sunshine of Twilight Town. We made it. We're actually here.

“Where do we go now?”

Riku glanced back at Sora, scratching the back of his head. “Uh...why don't we just walk around for a while, get a feel for the place?” To anyone else, he would have sounded like he knew exactly what he was talking about. Only Sora had known him for long enough to detect the hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Yeah, okay.” Sora swallowed, trying not to feel too nervous, himself. This is what we wanted, remember? A new town, new people...anything but what we had.

Riku led the way through the unfamiliar streets, pointing out various shops that they passed along the way, obviously doing his best to make them both feel at ease. Sora tried his best to relax and enjoy the sights, but his rumbling stomach wasn't doing much to help in that area.

“Can we get something to eat? I'm starving.”

Riku stopped walking and turned to face Sora, a frown on his face. “Well, we don't have a lot of munny left.” Digging the pouch out of his pocket, he tugged it open and peered inside. “The train tickets cost more than I thought they would. So, we can get food, but only a little, okay? We've still got to figure out where we're gonna sleep tonight, too.”

Sora nodded. “Yeah, I'm really tired.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned as if to prove the point. Laughing, Riku knocked Sora on the head. “I told you you should've slept on the train.”

They started to head into a nearby cafe, but were interrupted by someone calling out, “Hey, kids!”

Wrinkling his nose, Sora turned to see a couple of older teens, one with bright red hair and one with blue, walking towards them. “Are you talking to us?” he asked, pointing to his chest.

“We're not kids.” Riku crossed his arms and glared at the newcomers.

“Right, right.” The redhead waved his hands apologetically. “I'm sure you're much older and tougher than you look.”

“I'm Isa, and this is Lea,” the one with the long, blue hair and a strange scar between his eyes spoke up.

“You can call me Axel,” the redhead countered.

Riku studied them for a moment longer before dropping his arms. “Riku. That's Sora.”

“Great. Look, we couldn't help but overhear a little of your conversation,” Axel commented. “You guys new to town?”

“Just got here,” Sora piped up.

“Where are you from?” Isa questioned.

Riku shook his head. “Doesn't matter. We're never going back there.”

Axel and Isa exchanged a look that Sora couldn't read before Axel spoke again. “Listen, if you're looking for something to eat and somewhere to stay, we know a place. There's this guy we work for, along with a bunch of others just like you, and he lets us all sleep and eat at his place, too. It's a pretty good deal...a bit of work for him, in exchange for a bed and free meals.” He smiled earnestly and looked each of the boys in the eye. “What do you think, sound good?”

Sora cut his eyes over to Riku. It sounded great to him, but as the oldest, Riku was always the one to make the decisions. He could tell his friend was mulling over the offer. Finally he nodded to Sora, then smiled at the two older boys. “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

.o.0.O.0.o.

“Hey. Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A hand was pummeling Sora's head down into his pillow. Instinctively, his fist shot out and made contact with something hard, prompting a stream of curses from the human alarm clock. Much more awake now, Sora rolled over, shaking his hand and glaring at Axel, who had retreated to his own bunk across the narrow room to whimper and rub his jaw.

“Serves you right,” Sora growled.

“Hey, I'm just trying to do you a favor and keep you out of trouble.” Axel gestured towards the rest of the bunks with the hand that wasn't holding his face. “You're the last one up. Again. They're not gonna be serving breakfast for much longer.”

Groaning, Sora pried himself up off the hard mattress and fumbled for his black boots underneath the bed. A moment later, he was up and shuffling sleepily towards the door.

“You know, a 'thank you' wouldn't kill you!” Axel called after him.

The thought of food was enough to prod Sora into a jog as he made his way down first one stark white hallway, then another. When he finally reached the mess hall, the usual din of clanging plates and murmuring voices met his ears. Axel had been right, everyone else was already here. Hurrying over to the kitchen window, Sora cleared his throat to catch the attention of the server. The response was a side eye, a snarl, then thankfully, a piece of bread and a spoonful of mush slapped onto a plate and shoved across the counter towards him. Sora breathed a sigh of relief. Just in the nick of time. I really should thank Axel later.

As Sora turned to look for a place to sit, he found himself face to, well, chest with one of his least favorite people in the world. He lifted his chin to meet Marluxia's stare with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“Heard you had issues in Agrabah yesterday.” The tall, muscular man shook his pink mane.

“What's it to you if I did?”

“Personally, I'm hoping that means you'll get kicked off that mission and I'll get it instead.” This comment came from Larxene, who had walked up just out of range of Sora's peripheral vision. He whirled around to glare at her instead. “I'm getting really tired of Wonderland, after all,” she continued, chewing idly on a piece of bread.

Sora's eyes narrowed. Wait, that bread... It only took him a second to make the connection. “Give it back, Larxene!” He lunged forward to snatch it out of her mouth, not even caring that she had contaminated it.

She ran a few steps back, smirking. “Come and get it!”

He would have done exactly that, had he not felt a pull at the plate in his hand. Marluxia had a hold of it, and though Sora was pretty strong, he was no match for those muscles. The older man wrenched it out of his grasp in a matter of seconds. Gritting his teeth, Sora gave up the mush for lost and chose to go after Larxene instead, hoping to salvage whatever bread might be left. He ran straight into her, tackling her to the floor.

Before either of them could get in any punches, however, a loud voice rang out across the room. “No fighting!”

Eyes going wide, Sora scrambled off of the blonde and stumbled away as fast as he could. No crust of bread was worth getting punished for fighting. His stomach wasn't exactly sure it agreed, however. It protested its emptiness harshly enough to make him grimace as he sank down to the floor in an empty corner of the room, watching with clenched fists as Marluxia and Larxene sauntered away to find their next unsuspecting victim.

“Here.” Sora had been so engrossed in his anger that he hadn't even noticed Axel enter the room and plop down next to him. “Take this. It's from last night. I was saving it for later, but you need it more than I do.”

Sora stared down at the proffered food for a moment, then turned his head away. “I don't need you to take care of me.”

Axel sighed loudly. “No, I know you don't. But you also don't need to go out in the field today not having eaten since yesterday morning. I'm well aware that you didn't get dinner last night because of whatever went wrong in Agrabah.”

“It's not my fault that some towns actually have decent government in place.” Sora shook his head slightly. “People see somebody like us skulking around, they tell the authorities. I'm lucky I saw them coming and got out of there without being questioned or imprisoned.”

“Yeah, you are. I know it's unfair, Rox, you don't have to tell me that.” Catching sight of the daggers that Sora was shooting from his eyes, Axel put up a hand in apology for the name blunder. “I mean Sora, sorry. Now would you just take the food? Neither of us really want to know what the penalty is for passing out and not making it back from a mission.”

Sora snatched the small bundle out of his hand with a grunt. “Fine.” The food wasn't much, but it would certainly be better than nothing. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could pilfer an apple or something while on the job later. “Thanks,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

“No problem.” Axel ran a hand over his wild red hair, the flattened spikes immediately popping back up into place. “Try to play it cool with Saix when you see him. Confident, like you know you're capable of doing the job, but not too cocky. He'll probably dock you down to something more menial than territory expansion, but you'd better not show him one speck of attitude about it or...”

“Or I'll regret it, I know the drill.” Sora finished off the food and licked a crumb from his finger. “You ready? Might as well get it over with.”

“Yeah.” Axel pushed himself up to his feet, then held out a mass of black fabric. “Here, I brought these. You forgot yours in your rush.”

Grunting his thanks, Sora took the cloak and fastened it around his neck. On the other side of the room, most of the other soldiers, as they were unofficially called, were already lining up to receive their assignments. When his turn came, Sora stepped in front of Saix, meeting his cold gaze but trying his best to keep his own expression neutral.

“Roxas.” Saix's eyes flicked down to the clipboard in his hand, then back up to Sora's. “Debt collection. Twilight Town, east side.”

Sora blinked, the familiarity of that name sending a jolt through his brain, but forced himself to nod stiffly and pull his hood up over his face.

“You don't need a portal for Twilight Town,” Saix sneered after a moment of silence. Sora glanced back up at him, and he pointed to the door. “Go.”

Right. Nodding silently again, Sora stepped out of line and headed back across the room and out the door. So, this really was more punishment. Not only was he stuck with his least favorite task of debt collection, but he had also been relegated to the town that was so close by, you could walk to it rather than being sent by portal. A fabulous trek on a nearly empty stomach.

In another half hour, the walls of Twilight Town came into view, with the clock tower in the center of town poking out up above. That jolt ran through him once again. Several years ago, when they had first joined The Organization, he and Riku had often worked Twilight Town together. But that had been a long time ago, back before they had gotten promoted to bigger and better locations. On occasion after that, each of them would work a shift here, but Sora had not been back in a while. Not since Riku...

Shaking his head violently, Sora stamped out those thoughts before they could fully materialize. Stick with the present. Dwelling on the past never gets you anywhere. With a sigh, he walked through the gates of the city and surveyed the quiet streets. Well, this munny isn't going to collect itself.

DO NOT REPOST OR REBLOG WITHOUT CREDIT!

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kingdom hearts au #fanfic #fanfiction

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characternerdocs · 4 years ago

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The Fool, Death, Temperance (for mun, and also Heather :3c)

☀️🌙✨ tarot questions ✨🌙☀️ ||| @icybreaths

the fool: do you have any nicknames?

I go by Eri, it’s not my real name, but it’s my preferred name. Other then that I don’t have any nicknames, though in High School I went by ED in the theatre club, as E and D were my first and middle initials. Though my college roommate did suggest that for a dark persona I could go by Eerie Lorewright, but funnily enough some people at my work do call me Eerie cause they don’t know how to pronounce Eri. I don’t mind the Eerie pronunciation as it give me a chuckle, but the other mispronunciations of my name is “R-Ee” when I pronoun it as “Air-Ee”

Heather//: Oh, I’ve got a ton of nicknames, Vincey Bear calls me Pooka, but sometimes calls me simple thing; not like he’s calling me simple like stupid, tho. And Heath calls her Sis. but I AM his sister so… maybe that not really a nick name… Logan calls me firecracker, Sparky, and fruit loop (But I gave her the a-ok to use that one) Rox calls her Pipsqueak and half pint, still warming up to those.. Levi calls me Tator Tot but he’s also started to call me Boss. Skid calls her Tweetie, I think cause of my yellow hair. Then Beeyel calls me Puck and Fun Size, which is rude. Ramiel calls me freak. And Sammy calls me the weirdest things- creepy things…. and I’m like the queen of creepy but gotta say what he says makes me uncomfy…

death: what are three things you want to do before you die?

Three things I’d like to do before I die, One, publish my writing. Two, I want to do something that earns me a place in the credit roll of a movie. Three, learn how to animate.

Heather//: Interesting, Gotta admit, I don’t really have huge goal from myself. After getting outta Glenbrooke I sorta just live everyday as if it would be my last. But I guess if I had to choose, Definitely want to commit the world’s BIGGEST heist with Vincent by my side. cause that be a dope ass legacy to leave behind. Arm-wrestle the top 27 most deadliest predators of the world. Also be a dope thing to have as a title. Then- prolly convince V Bear of his self worth- Like I know he know he got it, but like i don’t know I want him to see himself like i do, cause he really lets others’ stupid option of him get him down.

temperance: can you describe a strange dream you’ve had?

One of the weirdest and honestly scariest dreams I've had, I was out shopping with my sister and I was really upset with her. So my dad came to pick us up, but I refused to get in the car with my sister, I was so pissed. so instead I walked home thinking and hoping it would cool me off. But as I was walking it started to rain. When I finally got home, my sister was standing in the yard and started to taunt me about about having to walk home in the rain. And I got some mad I beat her into coma. I started to freak out when my mom came out and saw what I've down and simply said: "don't worry, you're on meds for that (my anger) now." And then I woke up.

Heather//: I don't know... I really don't like talkin' bout my dreams besides with Vincent. their creepy and it leaaves me feeling really raw, having them ans talking bout 'em. They're like, either these gold tinted meremories of a life I don't think is my own or trauma filled horrors of what I was put through at Glenbrooke. Like being summerged in a tub of ice as I was getting that weird sappy serum pumped into me. The Doc always hoverin', spectating overhead. That horrible, awfuling feeling of constantly being under observation but completely alone. Utterly alone. And this miserible state of sub-human exist, reduced to being that lab rat, a play thing for this surgical mask-wearing creep, who sees the live and death of patients as a data point, nothing else.

Thanks for the ask @icybreaths, Hope you enjoyed finding out a little about me and a little bout Heather. You even started to breakdown Heather’s feral, crackhead persona with that dream question.

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earthseaborealis · 5 years ago

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New Traditions and Worlds

My @homestuckss gift for @dykeiatrist ! I used “Davekat,” “Jane,” and “Hurt/Comfort” (with a bit of DirkJake) to create a cute little holiday fic! Hope you enjoy it :D Have a wonderful holiday season!!

Also on ao3 (@detective_in_space if the link doesn’t work!)

“Twas the week before Christmas,” Dave started before pausing, “Yo Rox, what’s somethin’ that rhymes with Christmas?”

“Ass? Wait, no, no that doesn’t work… Christmas…” Roxy muttered, “Okay so, like, the only thing I’ve got is Christmas, but you absolutely cannot rhyme ‘Christmas’ with ‘Christmas,’ right?”

“You’re definitely right,” Dave sighed as he scratched out the words in his notebook, “Dude, like absolutely nothin’ rhymes with Christmas words.”

Roxy moved over and rested their hand on his shoulder, “Karkat will appreciate the thought at least. Hey, there are other things than Christmas raps, like festive interpretive dances! Or Festive slam poetry?”

“Well, duh, it’s Karkat we’re talkin’ bout,” Dave laughed, but in his defense, it was true. Karkat would yell and insist that he hated Dave’s most ‘ironic’ gifts, but there was a certain fondness in his tone. Like it was just a whole elaborate game. The edges of Karkat’s eyes would wrinkle as his lips curled into a small grin. A small chuckle would escape, which Dave would obviously point out, and in response, Karkat would punch him (before wrapping him in a hug). Oh god, that was the best…

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Roxy interrupted, as they lightly hit the side of Dave’s head, “Did ya invite me over here just to fall asleep?”

“Nah dawg, I was just thinkin’ about the usual,” Dave brushed their hand aside.

“So,” Roxy drawled, “Karkat?” Roxy wiggled their eyebrows at Dave.

“No,” Dave exclaimed, “Fuck, I mean, no. Hey, do ya know any, like, traditions that people do for Christmas and all that jazz.” Now that was a smooth change of topics.

“Smooth like a baby’s bottom,” Roxy laughed, “But, nah. I didn’t even know Christmas was like a real thing… thought it was an urban myth or something.” Oh, right. Roxy lived in some highly-futuristic society that was enslaved by a fish bitch, but there was none of that oppressive dictatorship on Earth C. Trolls, Carpacians, Humans, and well, any other species were free to chill by the fire and enjoy whatever holiday they wanted. Now that, was what sweet, sweet democracy was about (preach Obama).

“Lit, lovin’ that we’re both oblivious of any cultural traditions… hey, you think one of the Crocker-Harley-English… berts... would know more about this? I’m feelin’ like they’d be all up in that shit,” Dave said, “Oh fuck, I’m so smart. That’s like totally their thing.”

After quickly picking up all his stuff and saying goodbye to Roxy, Dave picked up his phone and dialed Jane Crocker, the holiday expert, on his way home. Wait, oh fuck, what if she was busy? It’s not like he usually talked to her, so was it out of the question? Oh no, maybe he should’ve just texted John...

The phone picked up, “Hello, Jane Crocker speaking?”

“Oh… oh! Hey Jane, it’s Dave… ya know… Dirk’s cooler bro,” Dave started. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and kicked a stray pebble on the sidewalk. Yes, he could be floating around, but exercise was important.

“Well, howdy there Dave. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, hasn’t it,” she chuckled, “Anyways, did you need anything?”

“So, like, Rox and I were talkin’ about Christmas and stuff… and well, we’re both dumb and have no idea what people actually do for it, so I thought you might be the expert on the subject? Because it totally seems like it’d be up your ally,” Dave rambled on.

“Well golly, I’m flattered. It’s been a while since I’ve actually celebrated the holiday, but of course, I’ll help you! Before the game, my father and I had so much fun celebrating… let’s see… Well, I’m sure you already know this, but we’d go out to a farm together and pick out a tree. I’d always search for the fattest tree, and my father would help me cut it down. And then we’d go get Hot Cocoa and pick out ornaments together, and well, oh sorry, I’ve gotten a bit off-topic, haven’t I,” Jane apologized.

“No, no! You’re literally the best… lemme just get a piece of paper to write this on,” Dave fumbled around his captchalogue, and pulled out an old notebook (of course, with Obama on the cover). “Okay cool, I got one, hit me with all that sweet, sweet info.”

“Alright… let’s see, what else… oh, well after we decorated the tree, we’d make and frost sugar cookies and cakes together. Oh! Karkat and you are welcome to come over together sometime and make cookies with me if you’d like,” Jane offered. Hell yeah, she was a literal legend. Roxy and Dirk had the best friends.

“Yeah, dog, we’d love to! I’ll hit you up with a date once Karkat checks the calendar. You know him and… schedulin’,” Dave said as he continued to write down Jane’s suggestions.

Jane chuckled, “Sounds good… and one more thing… My father and I would always put cheesy Christmas music on. That was the best… we’d make absolute fools out of ourselves, but it was so much fun. Literally, we’d just dance around and belt the lyrics… those we’re the days,” Jane’s voice started to crack… fuck… had Dave made her cry? “Sorry…” she continued, “I don’t mean to be so emotional. Oh lord, I’m sorry. I… I hope I helped you a bit, and just, feel free to come over whenever for cookies…”

“Fuck, no,” Dave searched his brain… what would Karkat say… “Sorry for bringin’ up those memories. I know it sucks and all. I’ll give you some time and just hit you up later.”

“Yes, that’d be great… see you later then,” Jane said as she hung up.

Well, shit, Dave had already made one person cry and it was only 11 a.m. Maybe Christmas was just an emotional time and stuff. Jane was cool, though, so he hoped that she was okay. Plus, she gave him some kickass advice, and he was so ready to get his holiday spirit on.

The rest of the walk to his place was boring. Dave tried to come up with some more sick raps for his Christmas album, featuring the new and improved version of “Jingle Bells.” The air was crisp and way too cold for Dave’s Texan roots (he blamed John for the freezing wind), so he was thankful when he finally reached the door.

“Yo, Karkat, I’m home, and I come with words of wisdom from the one and only Jane Crocker herself,” Dave announced as he closed the door behind him. He attempted to throw his coat and hang it up, but it fell clumsily to the floor. He shrugged it off and continued through the cozy lil’ condo, finding his way into the kitchen, where he found Karkat doing a load of laundry. Yes, the washing machine and dryer were in the kitchen… it was only the most ironic, British mom location for them. Dave, being the coolest man to ever exist, ran up to Karkat and hugged him from behind.

“Jesus fucking shit Dave! Are you trying to give me a blood pusher attack?” Karkat screeched as he jumped like fifty feet in the air (okay maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it basically happened).

“Nah dude, you wouldn’t dare be all anime protagonist on me and faint. Like, imagine me runnin’ to cradle you in my arms while you murmur ‘I’m goin’ to have to kawaii the shit out of your desu.’ Literally, imagine that” Dave rambled.

Karkat groaned at this, “Stop spending time with Dirk. You’re turning into a shitty weeb Karkat said as he pushed Dave away.

“I can’t help it… it’s who I am,” Dave clutched yo his chest and fell to the ground, pulling the other boy down with him. Karkat’s words. The worst weapon of all.

“I’m going to go live with Kanaya and Rose,” Karkat grumbled, falling to the ground as dramatically as possible (making sure to land on Dave with as much force as possible).

“Like you’d do that,” Dave scoffed, “She’s worse than me. Plus, is you did, we couldn’t be all romantic and celebrate human holidays together. C’mon dude, we gotta act like a high school couple. Get all up in each other’s space and kiss under the mistletoe. Oh, speakin’ of that! I talked to Jane, who is literally the best, and she was like ‘oh Dave! Check out this super lit tradition I did back on the o.g. Earth. Like, you get to cut down a tree and decorate with the most ironic ornaments.’”

“Sound detrimental to the environment and a waste of time. What’s the point of celebrating a fucking tree,” Karkat asked.

“Dude, it’s a pine tree, which is superior to all other trees. Besides, it’s about family and friends. I mean, I never celebrated Christmas with Bro, but you can’t just diss Karen like that,” Dave said, using his best white mom voice.

“Fine whatever. I’ll celebrate your dumb human holiday, but I call picking out the decorations,” Karkat bargained as he stood up and dusted off his pants (getting rid of Dave’s germs).

“Hell yeah, deal! Get your coat on, we’re gonna get a tree and bring it in our house,” Dave exclaimed, quickly getting off the ground.

The boys quickly got ready and we’re out the door, hopping into their car. Dave has gotten it because well, basically of all Karkat and his friends could fly. He has listened to Karkat’s complaining enough and invested in an older, used minivan. And man, did he love the thing. Hey, maybe he’d become a car person after the holidays were over.

Dave was about to drive to the nearest park with a saw, but Karkat demanded that he call and ask Jane first. Jane recommended a small farm in the middle of nowhere, and with the use of a GPS, they eventually found their way there (after a few hours of trial and error).

“Jane said that fat trees were better, but honestly, I’m lovin’ this tall ass one right here. I mean look at it. It’s taller than the Empire State Buildin’… wait, is that still a thing? Like an Earth C Empire State Buildin’?” In Dave’s defense, it was a totally valid question. Like, did Earth C have the same seven wonders of the world? Who knew.

“Shut the fuck up. We’re here for a tree, not imperialism,” Karkat groaned, “And besides, our house isn’t big enough for that.”

“But Karkat, the economy,” Dave whined, “But like, what about this tiny one… it reminds me of you, short stacks.”

Karkat shoved him, “And the other reminds me of your flat ass.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment… since you're lookin’ at my ass and all,” Dave pulled down his Stiller shades and winked.

“Shut up, you fucking twink. Let’s just celebrate your weird human holidays and get the tree,” Karkat grumbled as he attempted to pick up the tree.

Dave doubled over laughing as he watched the 5’3 troll struggle, but once Karkat shot him an angry glare, he rushed over to aid him (with his huge muscles, of course). “Nice, I can feel it pokin’ me through my mittens. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

After endless trial and error, the pair managed to carry the tree to the register and on top of their car, a red minivan that Dave had picked out.

“So,” Karkat started, “We just put a tree in our block and decorate it? And then some creepy old man flies around the world and gives presents to children by putting them under the tree?” His eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to understand human traditions.

“Dude, I can’t even explain it. Humans can come up with some weird shit when they put their minds to it,” Dave laughed. The rest of the car ride consisted of Karkat rambling about trollian traditions. Their hands managed to find one another and rest comfortably on the center console (Dave, of course, kept one hand on the steering wheel at all times… hey, safety is important).

Their next stop was the local hardware store. It was owned by a sweet, older Carpacian. In all honesty, she reminded Dave of the Mayor… a kindred spirit whose goal in life was to just lead and help make others happy. She made the place seem like the opposite of a place to buy tools. The place was decorated with festive garlands and cheery music rang through the air. Dave waved at her as the pair walked towards the Christmas section.

“So,” Dave drawled, “What kind of ornaments are we lookin’ for? Personally, I wanna find a dick shaped one… for the memories of cockscotch. Bless that game.”

“This is a family store, dick-muncher! And we’re getting triple-f ornaments! Family fucking friendly!” Karkat screeched, marching ahead (but not before grabbing Dave’s hand and pulling him along).

“Fine, fine, I get it… gotta make our house grub friendly, for when John comes over,” Dave snickered as they walked the ornaments aisle. Who knew there were so many different variations in fucking decorations? You had some for your Karens, poor college students, newlyweds, too many to count. Karkat busied himself with the… glass ball? Well, whatever that kind of ornament was called.

“These are nice,” Karkat noted, showing Dave a set of jade glass baubles (haha, like Kanaya).

“But like, dude, they’re so borin’,” Dave whined, “We gotta spruce this tree up… get it? Spruce is a kind of tree.” Dave chuckled at his own dad joke. Shit, he was hilarious.

“Hey, I’m just trying to make this actually look nice. We’ll get other colors too, and “spruce” it up, as you say,” Karkat said as he went back to check out the boring ornaments. Dave, on the other hand, went to look at the children’s ornaments on the other side of the aisle. Most of them were new pop culture things that Dave didn’t recognize (God was he growing old). However, there were a few that grabbed his attention, and obviously, he was gonna have to show these to Karkat.

“Yo, dawg. Check out these cool little fuckers. They’ll make our tree look mads cool,” Dave opened his hands to reveal a bunch of little crab ornaments. They were cute and not boring glass balls. Plus, crabs were like Karkat’s thing… he’d definitely appreciate them.

“Crustaceans? Don’t you just know the way to my blood pusher,” Karkat rolled his eyes, “Just put them in the basket before I change my mind.”

Dave threw his fist in the air and gave Karkat a side hug, “Hell yeah, you won’t regret this. We gonna get so festive up in this joint. All the moms will be beggin’ to check out the coolest tree in the neighborhood, which if ya didn’t catch on, will be ours.”

“You got me. I’m only doing this to make Carol jealous. She fucking deserves it,” Karkat chuckled. Yes, Dave knew he was doing swell when he made Karkat laugh. If only he could give himself a, well earned, golden star.

“Dude yes, I fuckin’ hate Carol. C’mon, let’s get more lights. We gotta make this flashy and blow a fuse, speakin’ of which… do you know how to fix a broken fuse? Because I do not wanna call Dirk over to fix it for us. He’ll be like ‘Dave, I’m just tryin’ to celebrate the holidays with my darlin’ boyfriend… have I mentioned Jake’s ass? Damn, lemme just rant about that and never actually fix your broken utilities.’ Can you imagine the pain, Karkat,” Dave lamented? He loved his brother, don’t get him wrong, but he did not want to mess with Dirk this close to the holiday season.

“I can, actually. Remember what happened the week before Jake’s birthday? Dirk is batshit crazy, but he gets it from you,” Karkat smirked as Dave feigned an offended expression, “Now, can we stop talking about his love life and actually pick out some decorations?”

The pair still had one more destination before they could go home and relax, maybe even decorate the tree… but knowing themselves, they’d probably wait until Christmas Eve to put the new lights and ornaments up.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you two could make it,” Jane said as she opened the door, “I’ve already got everything out, so all we have to do is bake and decorate cookies… and perhaps eat a bit of dough.” She ushered the two inside.

“Hell yeah, you’re the best Janey,” Dave said as the pair put away their coats and walked to the kitchen with Jane. Everything was so clean, especially when compared to their house. Karkat would always fuss about his habits, but Dave felt a sort of comfort in the messiness. So what if there were shirts thrown on the floor and an unorganized stack of papers on the kitchen table. It built… character.

“I’ve never had what you humans call ‘cookies,’ but thank you for having us,” Karkat added.

“Oh please, it’s no problem. I love baking, and I especially love helping people get into the holiday spirit,” Jane said. The trio fell into a simple routine once Jane showed them the recipe, helping the two boys when need be. Dave filled the silence by rambling under his breath about whatever he deemed important, while Karkat concentrated on making his cookies perfect.

“Hey look,” Dave exclaimed while holding up one of his doughy creations, “It’s a Karkat angel! A Kar-Angel… a Karkat Van-Angel!” His cookies were shaped into gingerbread men with nubby horns and an uncharacteristic smile.

“And I made a Dave-Cookie… oh wait, it’s just a blob of dough, my fucking bad,” Karkat retorted, going back to rolling out his dough.

It was a long process, but after a few hours, the boys had successfully made their first batch of Christmas sugar cookies. A few of the cookies weren’t burnt on the edges, but they were delicious nonetheless. Jane demanded that the pair take home their creations, as she didn’t have enough room in her cabinets for more holiday desserts.

“Goodness, thank you so much for coming over and making sugar cookies! I haven’t had this much fun since… well, it’s been a while. Feel free to come by and help me whenever you all would like,” Jane chirped.

“Of course, Janey,” Dave replied, “You best bet we’ll be back for some more goodies! Gotta get my housewife on. I can’t be accidentally poisoning Karkat with some undercooked cake.”

“You’ve poisoned me with every meal of your’s, except the Kraft Mac and Cheese, but only because Roxy helped you,” Karkat spat.

“Oh well, we certainly can’t have that. I’ll be seeing you both again soon then. Have a Merry Christmas and a wonderful new year!”

It was dark by the time they were home. Karkat and Dave both felt the sleepiness enter the body, as they kept yawning. It was too late to decorate the tree, so it was leaned against a corner. The pair immediately plopped down onto the couch and put on a holiday classic, Tim Allen’s “The Santa Clause,” which Dave argued was the best Christmas movie known to mankind, trollkind, and carpaciankind alike.

“Y’know, I never imagined that I would celebrate Christmas. Like, dude, that shit was mads uncool,” Dave said out of the blue, interrupting the beautiful sound of Tim Allen interacting with CGI reindeers and kidnapped children.

Karkat groaned, “Well, me either, yet here I am, celebrating a dumb holiday for dumb human grubs.” He was just trying to enjoy this wonderful holiday film, but with Dave, silence didn’t last long. In a way, it provided comfort to the pair. He knew that Dave absolutely hated the silence, as it reminded him of his Bro. For Karkat, Dave’s endless rambling allowed him to take his mind off of his worries. It was an odd relationship, one that had taken years to achieve, but here they were… they had made it, yet Karkat knew there were still shaky moments for the two of them. Like now, for example. The pair both would jump around certain barriers, trying desperately to aid one another, while still attempting to not dig too deep.

Dave rested his head upon Karkat’s thighs and snuggled into the pile of blankets, reminding him of their time on the meteor, “Y’know, I wouldn’t have this whole thing any other way. ‘M glad my first Christmas is with you, instead of Bro.” His words are slurred together and slightly muffled, and Karkat can’t help the stupid ass blush that creeps onto his face at the sound of them.

“Fuck that guy,” Karkat spits. After a moment, he starts again, this time with a gentler tone, “And it’s nice to have you here too, no matter how fucking dumb your endless rants may be.”

Dave could almost hear Dirk whispering “Tsundere” in his ear as he chuckled, “Awe, love you too, KitKat.” He sits back up, nearly smacking the top of his head into Karkat’s jaw. He looks away for a second, briefly hesitating, then leans in, closing the distance between the pair. It’s just a brief peck, but it leaves the two of them speechless. Dave looks at Karkat through his shades. A light brush coated his cheeks and his lips curled into a small grin.

Karkat pulls Dave into his side and looks towards the corner of the living room, where their small, fat tree is leaning against the wall. It was empty and in desperate need of attention (aka Crustacean ornaments). Filled with a sudden burst of energy, he paused the movie and stood up, pulling Dave with him, “Get off your lazy ass and get fucking festive. We have a tree to decorate.”

#hsss2019 #homestuckss #dykeiatrist #homestuck #pesterquest #hiveswap #karkat vantas #dave strider #davekat #jane crocker

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lisatelramor · 5 years ago

Text

Just a Blind Date

I wrote this in December and keep forgetting to post it =__=;;; So here, KH fic. I’m not usually a Xion/Roxas shipper but I do find it cute. So yeah. Fic. Have it.

*****

“I’m still not comfortable with this,” Roxas said as Lea held up different shirts in front of him. “You should just call your friend and cancel this.”

“Oh relax a little, Rox,” Lea said. He tossed the shirts away. “You said you wanted to have fun and do something new. So live a little.”

“When I said that I meant, I dunno, picking up a new hobby, not you arranging a blind date,” he grumbled. “You’re not even telling me if it’s with a girl or a boy.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, but you know what I mean. What if we have nothing to talk about? I don’t even know what to try and brace myself for.”

“All the better. You get way too defensive when you overthink things.” Lea threw up his hands. “Do you own any shirts that aren’t gray, black or white?”

“What’s wrong with black and white?”

“It makes you look colorblind and boring,” Lea said, hands on his hips.

“We can’t all pull of yellow and red and orange,” Roxas said tugging on Lea’s favorite scarf. It was kind of awful. He wondered why he was letting Lea help him with fashion. Sora arguably had better taste. “Besides, you wear almost as much black as I do.”

“I know the value of color accents.” He plucked up one of the black shirts with a gray pattern that went silvery at points. “Well, this is gonna have to do. Next time you have a date, I’m taking you shopping.”

“Well I’m not letting you set up another date for me ever,” Roxas said with a roll of his eyes. He slid the shirt on and supposed it did look okay with the jeans Lea had shoved at him because ‘he should wear something form flattering’ for once. Lea needed to have less issue with baggy clothing because baggy clothing was comfortable.

“Hair and makeup next,” Lea insisted.

“Woah, hey, I never agreed to makeup.”

Lea held up eyeliner and mascara. “You’re blond. This’ll make your eyes stand out. Trust me.”

Said Lea, the guy that wore winged eyeliner and dyed his hair fire-truck red because it made him stand out. Ugh.

“Make it quick. I just want to get this whole thing over with.”

Lea snorted and held him still. “You’re so over dramatic.”

“I’m the dramatic one?”

“Uh, yeah. Who had an epic month of tantrums when Sora started spending more time with his friends than with you?”

“I was twelve!”

Lea stuck out his tongue. “Still stands.” He sprayed a bit of hair mousse on his hand and ran it through Roxas’s hair, before tilting his face from side to side. “Hm. You clean up well enough I guess.”

“Wow, thanks,” Roxas said, snorting. He turned to the mirror, grudgingly acknowledging that Lea did have some idea about what he was doing. He didn’t look bad, and the makeup wasn’t as noticeable as Leah’s was.

“Brown pencil,” Lea said when he noted Roxas examining his eyes. “Black would be too dark for you.”

“But not for you?”

“My whole image is built on bold, high contrast,” he said. “I want it to stand out.”

Roxas snorted again. “I’d thank you but like, I’m still not happy you put me in this position in the first place.”

“It’ll be fine.” Lea slapped his back. “So your date’s going to be waiting in the station plaza just outside the clock tower.”

“All the way over there?”

“They like sea salt ice cream and nice views,” Lea continued. “There, now you know something.”

“So what, you decided to pair us up because we have the same taste in ice cream?”

“Just go have fun,” Lea said. “There’s supposed to be a movie going on in town sponsored by the ice cream place.”

“If that’s where you pictured us having the date, why the heck are we meeting at the clock tower?”

“It’s a nice view,” Lea said. He pushed Roxas toward the door. “See ya, don’t want to see you back here until at least eight o’clock. If I find out you stood your date up, we’re having words.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. See ya Lea.”

Lea shut the door in his face.

Roxas rolled his eyes and headed for the clock tower.

o*O*o

There were a few people milling around, coming and going from the train station, but none of them were the date Lea set him up on. Lea did have a point about the view though. It was a lot nicer when you could manage to sneak to the top of the clock tower, but Central Station was up on a hill above most of the town meaning you could see most of Twilight Town from here even without climbing the tower. It showed off the golden colors of the sunset really well, granted that the sun never went up or down it meant less than it might in other places he supposed.

There wasn’t anyone standing near the station doors, but there was someone leaning against the railing in the plaza, looking out into the distance. Roxas was willing to bet that was the right person. Well, unless whoever it was decided it was more trouble than it was worth and had backed out.

Roxas wouldn’t blame them if they did.

The person by the railing was a girl, and Lea had no right complaining about Roxas’s color preferences because she had a black shirt and gray skirt on. Her hair was short, almost boyish, and when he walked closer, he supposed she was kind of pretty. Roxas was more into people than looks. (Although sometimes he questioned what he liked in people because that few years with a crush on Lea were kind of questionable. Even more questionable than the kind-of-sort-of hate-crush on Riku he’d had at thirteen. At least Riku was pretty instead of spiky and bony like Lea. And a bit closer in age. Roxas’s brain was a bit weird in what it latched onto sometimes.)

He walked over to the girl and leaned on the railing a bit away, just far enough to hopefully not seem creepy.

“So, uh, nice view?” he said, trying to think of a way to subtly ask if she was the person he was meeting with.

“Isn’t it?” the girl said. “It’s so warm here. The colors and the temperature. It’s so much nicer than home.”

“Oh?”

“Gray. All the time.” She turned a bit and gave Roxas a smile, and oh, she was pretty. Not that she wasn’t before, but the smile met her eyes and that genuine enthusiasm for a view he saw all the time made his heart beat a little bit faster.

Roxas bit his lip. “Um, so, possibly strange question. You know a guy called Lea?”

The girl blinked and smiled a bit wider. “Yeah. I know a Lea. Six foot something, red hair, jokes a lot?”

“That’s the guy.”

She laughed. “So you must be my date.” She held out a hand. “My name’s Xion.”

“Roxas.” He was weirdly nervous shaking her hand. It was silly; this was a blind date that neither of them had to make mean something at all. Just another weird whim from Lea after hearing Roxas complain one too many times about being bored.

“Well, Roxas, it’s nice to meet you.”

o*O*o

Roxas wasn’t really sure what to make of her at first, but after a few minutes exchanging stories about how they ended up friends with Lea—Roxas meeting him when he left the Islands, and Xion during one of Lea’s spontaneous travel phases—it turned out that they actually knew a lot of the same people and were even going to the same university. They just frequented different parts of campus and town so far as Roxas could tell.

They were going to go to the movie, really, but somehow talking about friends lead to Roxas remembering Pence dragging him and the rest of Hayner’s group around the other side of Twilight Town to check out the so-called Seven Wonders for a mythology report, and the next thing Roxas knew they were on a train to go see them now. He was having a lot better time than he thought he would.

“I wonder how many places have local legends like this,” Xion said as they counted up and down the stairs multiple times—counting the same every time, of course.

“I dunno. Probably a lot though.”

“Did your Islands have any legends?”

“Hmm, probably.” Roxas skipped down the stairs toward the next spot, considering. “I think there were a few stories my mom told us growing up, and my brother’s friend Riku’s grandma always had the best stories about faraway places. Probably why he wanted to leave so much growing up honestly. There was a story about a kid that opened a door to another world, but that one was kind of sad since he never came back. There were stories like that, the kind that are probably cautionary tales or something. Like the kid that built a raft to sail to the stars and instead got swallowed by the ocean.”

“Wow,” Xion said. “Grim stuff.”

“Right? You’d think there’d be more sunshine and flowers for a tropical island.” Roxas grinned, peeking into the alley. No balls got thrown his way, but then no one had been practicing here lately since it was months until the next Struggle competition. “This one’s supposed to be a ‘Friend From Beyond the Wall,’ but it turned out that this is a place people practice with Struggle balls, so that was another Wonder crossed off the list.”

Xion peered into the alley. “And people missed that there was someone in there?”

“I never said they were good Wonders. I think Pence had to be chasing any rumor he could or something.”

“Well, most rumors have a grain of truth,” Xion reasoned.

“Yeah, yeah, but it was still really random. Like. How is mysteriously number changing stairs a Wonder?”

“It would certainly be strange if it was true.”

They walked away, Roxas leading toward the waterfall. “I guess,” he said after a moment, “there was one neat story. Or, well, maybe it was more of a superstition than a story.” Xion looked at him and he felt self-conscious bringing it up because, well, it was one that actually meant something to him and Sora growing up. “There’s this fruit, ok, shaped like a star. The legend goes that if you share it with someone you care about, your lives and destinies will be entwined. So you’ll always find your way back to each other.” He scrubbed his hair, messing up Lea’s careful styling. “It’s a little cheesy, but…”

“I think it’s pretty cute,” Xion said. “Do you believe it?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I never shared one with anyone. My brother though, Sora, he shared one with his friends Riku and Kairi, and they all ended up going to study in Radiant Garden together, so maybe there’s some sort of truth to it. Or maybe it’s just taking it seriously and working harder to keep up bonds, I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s both,” Xion suggested. “Belief can go a long way.”

“How about your home? Were there any legends there?”

“Mm.” Xion shrugged. “Not any happy ones.”

Roxas got the feeling she didn’t like her home much. Any question that glanced by the topic was met with a non-answer and a distant look. He could take a hint though, so he just tugged her over to the waterfall.

“Well, this Wonder is a doppelganger. But…” He took a step to the right where the sun hit just right to make the water show their reflections. “I’m pretty sure a mirror effect isn’t an actual doppelganger.”

“Still pretty cool. I didn’t know a waterfall could work as a mirror.” Xion made faces at herself and Roxas snorted. “What? Like you’ve never done it.”

“Actually my brother and I get into face contests all the time.” Roxas grinned before pulling the ridiculous face that Sora always complained was not nearly as silly as his signature silly face. Roxas totally had the better expression.

Xion burst out laughing. “You look like you don’t have a chin!”

“Right?” She made a face and he made one back until they were leaning against each other and gasping for breath.

“Owwww,” Xion giggled. “I can’t breathe!”

“Do I win or do you?”

“We both win because neither of us can stand upright,” she said, rubbing at the stitch in her side. “Okay, no more faces. I don’t think I can take more laughing.”

“Next Wonder?”

“Please.”

Roxas didn’t even think twice about taking her hand and leading her up the hill. “Okay,” he said once he had his breath mostly back. “This one’s a bit weird. So the Wonder is a bag that moves on its own.”

“A bag. Like…a trash bag?”

“Kinda?”

Xion snorted. “A living trash bag is a wonder.”

“I know, right?” They crested the hill and Xion grabbed his hand tight.

“Ohmygosh, is that it?”

In the middle of the hill was a moving bag all right.

Roxas groaned. “Really? Again? C’mon help me catch it.”

“Catch it?”

Rather than explain, Roxas moved to cut the randomly moving bag off. Xion, confused but willing to help, blocked the other direction. Between the two of them, they caught the bag in less than a minute, Roxas half tacking it to pin it down. And out came a dog with a bit of tugging along with a mess of garbage.

“This dumb mutt keeps getting stuck in bags. I have no idea how it ends up here half the time, but it’s not very bright.”

The dog whined and wiggled and tried to crawl right back into the garbage. Roxas held the bag out of reach.

“Oh no you don’t. What is even wrong with you?”

“He’s really cute,” Xion said. “But kind of…smelly.”

“Yeah, not the brightest dog at all. C’mon, go home. Your owner’s gonna blow a gasket when they find you covered in garbage again.”

As if realizing that Roxas was in no way, shape, or form going to give it the garbage back, the dog gave a huff of breath and slunk off, casting disgruntled looks over its shoulder.

“I can’t believe we pulled a dog from a bag of garbage,” Xion said. “You know, this wasn’t where I pictured this date going.”

Oh. Right. They were on a date. Roxas blushed. It was kind of weird but it felt like they’d been friends for a while, not two people that just met a little over an hour ago. He took the trash to a garbage can, trying not to get flustered again. “Well, it’s a unique date then. Can’t say anyone else would take you to a hill and have you chase a garbage dog.”

Xion snickered. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think most people would find that romantic.”

“Do you?” Roxas blurted before he could think twice about words coming out of his mouth.

She gave him a slow, considering look. “It’s kind of out there, but this is one of the better dates I’ve been on honestly.”

“Oh.” He blushed again. “Well. I’m, uh, glad then.” Wow, so smooth. Lea would be laughing his ass of if he was here. “So, one more Wonder, since we’re here?”

Xion nodded obligingly.

Roxas pointed at the rail that went off in the distance. “They say that there’s a ghost train that you can sometimes see. No one knows where it goes, but it doesn’t belong to any of the train lines in Twilight Town.”

“Is it real?” Xion asked.

“It’s said to only be seen at sunset.”

It took a moment but then Xion frowned. “Wait, isn’t Twilight Town…”

“Constantly in twilight?” Roxas said with a grin. “Kinda. It’s… I don’t know if you noticed, but the sun moves a little. There’s like ‘edges of dawn and edges of dusk’ twilight and then there’s the golden sunrise-set state most of the time. Pretty sure it’s the edges of dusk kind of twilight that the myth means, but who knows? Maybe the train just shows up at random.”

“Huh. Seems like a cheap way to leave it to chance.”

“Right?” He smiled, looking out at the golden glow. It was edging toward redder, more evening technically now. He was never going to get used to how Twilight Town’s sky worked. “I saw it once though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Standing right here. It was all weird, like someone who only read fantasy novels tried to design a train. My bet? That train’s someone’s private rail line and they come to town every now and then, but it’s so infrequent it’s just become a legend.”

“Huh.” Xion tilted her head. “You know it would be cooler if it was actually owned by a wizard.”

“Might as well be. Not like we’re ever going to know.”

Xion hummed and leaned against the rail. The view was nice here too.

“You ever thought of photography?” he asked after a while of watching clouds turn red and gold and light cast dappled shadows down below. “To make the image last.”

“Thought about it,” Xion said, “but it wouldn’t feel right. I could take pictures and catch a tiny fragment of what it was, but it’d only just be that fragment. I’d rather have the memory of something real and in the moment than create something that can never catch the whole of it, you know?”

It seemed a bit of a waste, because the picture could prompt the memory, but at the same time he kind of got it. There was something even more beautiful about a sight knowing that it was the only time you’d get to see it. “I guess.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder for a long while until the golds in the sky were almost all reds and oranges.

“Is that all the Wonders of Twilight Town?” Xion asked, finally, completely relaxed beside him.

“There’s two more, some sounds from the tunnels and an abandoned mansion that people say they’ve seen a ghost girl in, but we don’t have to go see them if you don’t want to.”

Xion nudged him with her elbow. “I think we’ve done pretty well so far. Might as well see the rest.”

Roxas rubs the back of his head. “If you’re up to it. The tunnels…don’t exactly smell the greatest.”

“I’m not afraid of dark places and some garbage,” Xion said. “Besides, I think I’m getting a lot better tour of obscure places of Twilight Town than most people get.”

“I don’t think most people would want to stumble around the tunnel system or weird alleys.”

“Their loss.” Xion tossed him a wink and walked confidently toward the tunnels

Roxas laughed.

“Welcome,” he said as they stepped into the tunnels, “to the Underground Concourse, a lovely system of tunnels allowing you to get almost anywhere in Twilight Town without the hassle of dealing with busy streets.” He gave a pretentious little bow. “As you can see, it houses garbage, litter, used cigarette butts and various vermin.” As if on cue, a startled mouse skittered past.

“How charming,” Xion said.

“It’s really not that bad, just no one’s been through to clean lately. It happens a couple times a year and people are kinda slobs.” A soda can rattled away as he accidentally kicked it. “I wasn’t kidding about avoiding people though. Sometimes I cut through the tunnels if I need to get somewhere faster.”

“So what’s the legend here?”

“People say that if you walk the tunnels, you can hear the groans of some poor soul that got lost down here and never made it back out.” His grin glinted in the low light and Roxas led her to the ideal spot. “If you listen closely, you might hear them today.”

They stopped and there was a soft moaning sound. Xion raised an eyebrow. Roxas remembered Lea looking unnerved by the noise the first time he’d been down there, but Xion didn’t even look fazed. “So what is it really?”

“What, no belief in poor wayward souls?”

“I can’t imagine a ghost haunting someplace like this. It’s just not spooky enough.”

“Fair enough.” Roxas pointed up where there was an air vent. “As far as Pence could figure out, the sound’s caused by the vents. When it gets windy they make noise. Not very scary once you learn that.”

“It’s not that scary in the first place. A little dirty, but I’ve seen worse.” She smiled. “So, leave the not-so-haunted tunnels for the possibly-haunted mansion?”

“Right this way.” There used to be a hole in a wall kids climbed through on dares to creep close to the old mansion, but these days the only way to reach it was through the tunnels. One led outside the town walls into a forest, and so they climbed out into bushes and trees a few minutes later.

“Oh, hey, nature.”

“Yep. As nice as the town is, it’s good to get out of it and around trees sometimes. The mansion’s on the other end of the forest. If you can call it a forest. It’s not big enough to get lost in.”

“Close enough.” Xion touched a green leaf. “I’m finding the best places today.”

“I do know the best places.” He pushed through the undergrowth, the path a bit more overgrown than the last time he’d been through here. “Okay, I have friends who are from here and know all the best places. Still.”

“Well thank goodness for those friends.”

“I’ll have to introduce you. You’d probably get along with them. Actually you might have even seen them around; Hayner and Olette work for that new fancy restaurant down town.”

“You’ll have to point them out.”

The mansion gates loomed out of the clearing beyond the woods with its slightly-rusty blackened metal and worn brick walls. Stone pillars that might have been a part of a trellis system at one point were crumbling in the lawn and the mansion itself looked sad, like it was drooping, though that might just possibly be a roof problem. On one side was a big picture window on the second story, with curtains still visibly hanging.

“Well, there it is.” Roxas looked up at the building, feeling the same uneasy feeling he’d had back when he visited here with Pence. Pence swore he’d been in it once, and that it was a bunch of trashed rooms and a slightly-less-trashed library. He’d never felt brave enough to enter himself. “They say that sometimes there’s a girl that stands in the window and watches the world outside. No one’s lived here in over a decade though, so unless there’s been a squatter in the meantime, it’s not very likely there’s a girl there.

“It looks lonely,” Xion said. “Do you know what happened to the people that lived here?”

“No. Pence never mentioned, though he might know. He was the one doing the research report on it…”

They looked up at the mansion a few more minutes before Xion said, “Can you go in it?”

“Technically I think the lock is either broken or apparently really easy to pick, but I’ve never wanted to go in.”

“Really?” Xion asked, surprise clear on her face. “Not even once?”

“I don’t really believe in ghosts, but there’s something about this place that just… Gives me the heebie jeebies.” Roxas shrugged. “Pence says the first floor is really dusty and some of the rooms are trashed. There’s a library somewhere though and it’s really dusty but mostly in one piece I guess. Unless rats are nesting in it since the last time he broke in.”

“Well clearly I have to meet your friend so we can break in together.”

“Why would you want to go in?”

“Adventure,” Xion said. “Duh.” She grinned to make it clear she was teasing. “That’s kind of why I wanted to see all the Wonders in the first place, you know?”

“I guess I can see that.”

They looked at the mansion a bit longer and Roxas could almost swear the curtain moved. But for all he knew there was a mouse or a crack in the window that caused a draft. He shook himself. It was getting late. “So… I hear you like sea salt ice cream?”

Xion’s eyes lit up. “I love sea salt ice cream.”

“My treat?” he offered.

“This time,” she said. “Next time, I’ll treat you.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

Xion nudged him with her elbow. “I’ve been having fun. And if you’re not into me romantically, I’d love to be friends.”

Roxas blushed. “Yeah, I’d like. Um, I’d like that too. And. You’re pretty cool all around.” Pretty cool? What was coming out of his mouth?

Xion didn’t seem to care that it was awkward though since she just smiled again.

o*O*o

The rest of the date was spent talking over melting bars of sea salt ice cream back at Station Plaza until they really had to go because it was getting pretty late to be out. Roxas walked Xion to her district in Twilight Town, and even screwed up the courage to kiss her cheek. Xion one-upped him and gave him a return kiss that had Roxas grinning the whole way home to his and Lea’s apartment.

Lea took one look and grinned right back, smug. “See?” he said. “I told you it’d work out. Am I the best or am I the best.”

“Shut up, you’re maybe second best.” But Roxas couldn’t even manage a scowl.

“Date was that good then?” Lea wiggled his eyebrows.

“We didn’t even go to the movie or get dinner,” Roxas said. “We did get ice cream. But it was a lot of fun.”

“You going to go out again?”

“Well, she promised to buy me ice cream next time so I’ll take that as a yes.” Roxas also had Xion’s phone number in his phone now.

Lea smiled, looking like a proud older brother for a second. “You managed a date successfully. You’re growing up so fast.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Roxas flopped back on his bed, already thinking of what texts he could send Xion’s way. He glanced at Lea’s smile. “Thanks though,” he said. “Really. Even if nothing else works out, I think Xion could be a good friend someday.”

“Don’t mention it.” Lea waved a hand. “Really. Now, will you buy me a bar of ice cream next time in thanks or…?”

Roxas rolled his eyes. “Sure, Lea. I’ll buy you ice cream sometime.”

“Score.”

Roxas snapped a photo of Lea’s smug face and sent it to Xion with the caption ‘guess who’s getting a swelled ego’.

He got back a laugh emoji and a ‘tell him thanks’.

Roxas did eventually pass along her message. But not until he’d spent another half hour exchanging messages. Couldn’t have Lea thinking he was that good of a matchmaker. Even if, in this case at least, Roxas thought he really might be right.

#kingdom hearts #fanfic #roxas/xion #my randomly chosen prompt words for this were blind date and makeover #so that's what it is

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