#rocky drabble

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I showed my baby neice my Rocky Rickaby Plushie and she laughed and smiled at it and it gave me the idea of Dad! Rocky x reader where their baby smiles at him for the first time 😭💕💕💕

A/n: *SCREECHING* THATS ADORABLR

You expected your son to be much like his father when he was born, energetic, nothing but giggles but he was completely the opposite. He was a quiet baby, so sweet and Rocky was determined to make him smile.

"Look what daddy got you!" Rocky's voice boomed throughout the little apartment. He rushed over to his toddler beaming down at his one year old som that was staring blankly up at him.

Glancing up from your book, you smiled tilting your head to the side. "Nothing too dangerous right?"

Giving you a wink, he chuckled pulling out a small little plush. "This!"

The toddlers eyes going wide looking at the toy in his hands. His eyes following the movements of it with each dramatic movement of Rocky's hands.

"You would probably kill me if I gave our precious little bundle of joy anything dangerous and then who would keep you safe."

Pushing up from the chair you made your way over to him. "Viktor for starters."

Scoffing, Rocky wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you into his chest. "I can do a better job at protecting you both than that grump."

"Hmm. I won't tell him you said that."

"Thank you."

Placing a kiss to your temple, Rocky then turned his attention back to his son waving the little plush in his face. "Can you smile for daddy?"

Reaching for the plush, the little boy stood on shaky legs giggling at the faces his father was making. A squeal leaving his lips as a bright smile formed on his face. The first big smile that Rocky had the chance to see.

"Did you?!" Rocky's own large smile formed on his face as he lifted his son out of the crib and into his arms. "You have the cutest smile." Rubbing his nose into his son's belly, another squeal left his son's lips as he squirmed in his father's arms.

"You have your mothers smile"

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Only One Bed (Discord Drabble)

"This cannot be right."

"Yeah, uh... I think it is."

Eddie looks down at the motel room key, its puke-green keychain shimmering as the fluorescent lighting above bounces off it.

Steve bristles beside him and Vickie paces about, looking like a lost little sheepie as she examines the room for any other possible sleeping quarters that might be hidden around the place.

"Go back to the front desk," Steve commands, folding his arms now.

"What's the point?" Robin pipes up. She gestures to the cramped room with enough force that she bounces on the double bed. A small double bed. The only bed. "The place is booked out because of this stupid concert."

"Hey!" Eddie and Vickie defend in unison.

Robin jumps up and snatches away the motel key.

"Remind me to never leave you with the travel itinerary again."

Eddie bites his bottom lip as he readies himself for either a quip about his new (well, 'new' to him) van or his driving skills. But Steve steps forward and places his hands on his hips, assessing the bedding.

"Okay, how about me and Rob in the middle? Eddie on my other side, Vickie on Robin's?"

3am.

"Eddie! Will you stop squirming!"

"Robin, be quiet."

"I will when Munson stops jostling the entire bed like he's some possessed child."

"Robin, I'm cold!" Eddie whines, "You're wrapped around Steve like an octopus. He's my boyfriend y'know!"

Vickie pops up from behind Robin.

"I'm cold too," her wide eyes glisten in the darkness as she steadies herself, clearly teetering on the edge of the bed.

"Y'know we wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't –"

"Everyone, shut up," Steve grumbles, snuggling in closer to his best friend.

He burrows his way under the stiff pillows that Robin had somehow managed to commandeer for herself in the night.

"Steve!" Eddie grits his teeth, "Hold me!"

[sugarsweetwriter]

┇(Cult) Whump Recovery… (Whumper is referred to as The Leader/God)

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.

"Yes, I do. I was sinful." Whumpee seethed. Their eyes darted around the room, before settling on the white, floral fabric, draped over their bruised thighs. The dress was apparently Caretaker's cousin's, and it was the only clean clothing they had when unexpectantly taking Whumpee in, only about a week ago. Since then, laundry had been done, but Whumpee seemed attached to the dress, and Caretaker wanted them to be as comfortable as possible. It was much prettier, silkier, than their previous, everyday-garment; a gray, modest dress which covered them from head to toe. It sat on them loosely, and was itchy at the seams, but that had never mattered.

Caretaker frowned at the response, but Whumpee hadn't dared to look up to see it.

"How were you sinful—if you're comfortable telling me?" Caretaker questioned—again, far too tenderly. Having sat at the foot of the bed for around 10 minutes now, Caretaker kept conversing with Whumpee—though it felt more like an interrogation for them.

Whumpee hesitated for a moment before answering:

"I.. I wasn't holy yet. I hadn't found The Leader yet—I hadn't found God yet. I hadn't begun worshipping them- and, so, I couldn't have been-.. righteous," Whumpee paused briefly, then continued.

"I would've.. never been forgiven if I had continued like that, but... Now, I'm sure I'll never be forgiven again… no matter how hard I could ever pray." Whumpee practically whispered the second half of the sentance, taking in a shaky breath before muttering the very last part—they sounded as if they were about to sob.

Caretaker sighed, sorrowfully, before slowly—very, very slowly—moving over towards Whumpee, to which Whumpee only stared at them for a moment before looking back down at their thighs. Hesitantly, Caretaker spoke:

"I know, I know it's scary—but none of that's.. true. Please.. know that you're safe. The Leader.." Caretaker hesitated, "God—can't hurt you, anymore. I promise. You're far away from them all now and I won't ever let anybody from back there hurt you ever again. You're safe" they finished.

Caretaker, now sitting knee to knee with Whumpee, looked back into their eyes, only to be met with a small, scarred, terrified, baby deer. Their eyes, yet again, frantically searched for a focus of interest around the room as tears spilt freely now, quiet sobs racking through their chest as they attempted to mutter a defensive response—but to no avail, as they could only let out pitiful whimpers.

How could Caretaker challenge The Leader? How could Caretaker challenge The God—the only being who knew true virtue? It went against all that Whumpee had known for the past four years. And deeply, it both shook and absolutely terrified Whumpee.

Once more, Caretaker moved towards Whumpee, little by little, attempting to look back at Whumpee's face—failing, since Whumpee's head was now lowered and pressed against their thighs, still covered by soft fabric.

"Whumpee… Can I touch you?" Cautiously, Caretaker asked—unsure as to whether Whumpee could even heard them through their now, much louder, sobs. Although, even through Whumpee's hysteric crying, Caretaker could've sworn they'd heard something among the lines of "Yes, okay". And so, steadily, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee, who quickly lifted their arms as well, almost instinctively, wrapping them shakily around Caretaker and burying their face in Caretaker's neck, breathing heavily and smearing their tears everywhere. Whumpee had been deprived of touch for so long, of course they’d take it now that they got the chance to.

After the shock of it all, Caretaker dotingly whispered sweet confirmations, holding Whumpee firmly yet tenderly, making sure to comfort Whumpee yet not trap them.

Words of "It's okay, it's all okay. I promise—you're safe. The Leader can't get to you here" were spoken, caringly.

Eventually, the cries died down, and Whumpee was left in Caretaker's arms, whimpering quietly, their arms now drooping down Caretaker's back.

"How... You're- you're wrong" Whumpee sniffled, well aware of how weak the defense was.

But they were so tired, and still, scared. Desperately, they just wanted to believe Caretaker—believe that they were safe, and believe even that god—not The Leader—but god, either didn't care—or know—about them, or didn't even exist to begin with.

Still terribly unsure of whatever the real truth of it may be—they feared The Leader was right, it was what they'd been taught for so long anyway—they just hoped, so wholeheartedly, but exhaustedly, hoped that they'd be okay. That they'd be safe, that they wouldn't be punished—not for leaving, or for daring to doubt The Leader, and even god.

At least now, in Caretaker's warm arms, they did, indeed, feel safe—for the first time in a very, very long time.

In response to Whumpee's defense, Caretaker only hummed affectionately. Truthfully, Caretaker was proud, so proud, of Whumpee. For the first time in the week they'd been staying with Caretaker, instead of hiding in the closet, or just uncontrollably sobbing and praying while pushing them away, they accepted touch, and comfort, help.

Caretaker knew it'd take a long, long time to work with Whumpee and work towards recovery; Whumpee was still working on processing the very notion that it all, that all of the punishments could've been for nothing. It wasn't as if they had never considered it before. They did at the start, and later on they wondered if—regardless of whether The Leader, or any god was real—anything could've made all that they had been through worth it. Eventually though, they became far too fearful to ever even consider any of it ever again.

Yet here, they slowly fall asleep on Caretaker, their weak body slumping onto them, head awkwardly positioned at their neck; to which Caretaker gently—not too gently this time; without saying anything in fact—positioned Whumpee's body in a more comfortable position, and as Whumpee slept, safely, and warm, Caretaker was sure of it now; they will never give up on Whumpee.

┇A/N: First writing on here! Posting this before my intro as well... it's 3 am now but I just had the urge to write and came up with this (touch starved Whumpee my beloved)... I haven't seen any cult whump recovery drabbles before, so here's one! Hopefully someone enjoyed my writing! ^^

[do0zy-artz]

(If you saw this in the tags before I um. I forgot to pause my queue and the wip version posted accidentally. Here's the full one! <3)

The one thing Cleo hates most about the soulbond is sharing emotions. She can deal with the pain, are the rare moment where their thoughts bleed through, but she cannot deal with Martyn’s bloody emtions. Especially when he's around Ren and BigB.

They knew Martyn and Ren had a...thing for each other. Everyone knew that. It was painfully obvious. Cleo had expected to feel some of adoration for Ren, when she found out they were soulmates. What she wasn't expecting was the jealously.

Martyn was jealous of BigB, of all people, for being Ren's soulmate and basically dating him. And having to feel his feelings made that very insufferable.

And because he's being insufferable and making her life worse than he already has, Cleo ends up outside Martyn’s ugly as sin little bastion one day. Around noon she thinks. They knock on the door, and then enter anyways. She hopes this thing is more stable than it looks on the outside.

"Oh great." Martyn says, looking over them. He's leaning against a crafting table, in the middle of shutting it. It seems like Cleo had interrupted his tool crafting, of the iron and sticks on the table indicate anything.

He already sounded annoyed, and she'd just walked in. That had to be a new record. Cleo has to resist rolling her eyes at his tone. A very hard thing to resist indeed. "Why are you here?"

"I can feel your jealous thoughts about BigB and Ren, ya know." Cleo says, getting straight to the point. Their voice is probably a bit snappier than they wanted it to be. Cleo doesn't really care, though. The more sharp her words are, the better.

Martyn raises and eyebrow at her, like he can't give less of a fuck. And, knowing him and his priorities pretaning to her, he probably doesn't. "And?"

"It's annoying to deal with." Cleo snaps, shutting the houses door behind them. They don't want whoever around to hear this. Martyn probably doesn't either. This conversation is bound to get very messy very fast.

"Trust me, your emotions are just as frustrating." Martyn snaps back at her, crossing his arms over his chest. He's on the defense already, it seems. His feelings for Ren must be more of a soft spot than Cleo first realized.

"I'm not the one lamenting over not being paired with Ren." Cleo responds. At least she knows how to keep her emotions in check, unlike a certain somebody.

Martyn snorts, turning back to his chest and crafting table. "You're also lamenting over other things. Over-"

"Shut it." Cleo growls, cutting Martyn off before he can finish that sentence. Apparently, he knows what's best for him, and keeps his mouth shut for a good minute or two. "What I lament about is none of your business. "

"What I mope about is apparently yours." Martyn turns back around to glare at her, something bitter bubbling in his voice. His soulmate doesn't hear it, too wrapped up in her annoyance to care.

(Just like always...)

Cleo thinks she has good reason to be concerned about his, actually, considering moping is all her sorry excuse for a soulmate does. "Yours messes with my cognitive function. My suffering isn't nearly that bad."

"Bullshit." He says, crossing his arms over his chest. (Cleo hates that he is fully correct in calling bullshit on her, she really does.)

"Everything but the last part." Their soulmate has no response to that, only pouting like a child. And well, if Martyn’s not going to say anything, then their little argument is as good as done in their book. If he's not going to say anything, then it's time for her to leave.

Maybe if she gives him some advice before she goes, he'll actually take it.

"Wherever your heads stuck at, it's not healthy." Cleo says, leaning against the ugly crimson wall of Martyn’s house. What they mope about probably isn't healthy, but she's not going to think about that. Martyn's is worse anyways. "You need to move on."

"I know..." Martyn mumbles. He sounds strangely....somber, an emotion Cleo doesn't hear from him often. It's almost strange to hear him sound so sad. "Moving on isn't really easy, ya know."

"Well, you're gonna have too." The zombie gives him one last look, then decides her time is done here. She's had enough of his bullshit for one day, and it's not even noon yet. "And do it before I get sick of you three and decide to kill BigB again."

"Whatever." Martyn huffs, and with that Cleo is gone. She intends to stay gone for as long as the universe (and Martyn’s moping) will let her.

[nyastesticles]

I've been thinkin a lot about Cole's family.. here are last name hc's !!! Lilly's maiden name is 'Hence' but she took Lou's last name, 'Brookstone'. Cole's last name in tlnm is 'Bucket'...

[fr6giledoll]

WERE EATING SMORES , BY THE CAMPFIRE . . .

• i am 18 (19 on 06/12 😼)

• i go by she / her pronouns

• my favorite color is pink or black !

• uhh i literally love tyler the creator & spongebob if you couldn’t tell !

• minors ARE allowed on my page because i don’t do a lot of posting / reblogging smut , or suggestive themes. but if i ever do please just scroll away you all are still my pure little nut muffins ☺️

WANNA HEAR THE NEW SONG WE JUST DID?

ohohoho boy i can talk about a lot of things im heavily interested in ;

music artist — favorite song ++ xtra information if i wanna yap abt it (,,>ヮ<,,)!

tyler the creator (duhh..) wilshire , lumberjack , treehome95 , bimmer++— my favorite albums are either wolf or cherry bomb, i can’t pick.

ASAP ROCKYYY! - i love asap rocky sm i can’t even explain it , fav songs are angels, phoenix , and palace !

kendrick lamar — omggg his music is so good but i barely listen to him ! 😓 , fav songs are : wesley’s theory , alright , or hood politics !

alex g (b4 i start im lowkey gonna include his unreleased songs or songs frm his band the skin cells because they are literally some of my favorites 💔) : sometimes , east coast , not anywhere

clairo — terappin , sexy to someone , love songs

modern baseball - BRO I LOVE MOBO SO MYCJ NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND MY MKVE FOR THEM. anyways , fav songs r : re-do , play ball ! , coals

mom jeans - woahshohogo i love mom jeans now , fav songs r : deathcup , what’s up? , glamorous

of all time.. i would definitely say my favorite show is spongebob. i like just love it so much for no absolute reason.

2nd, i would say south park , its just hilarious to me i can’t help it 💔

i don’t rlly watch a lot of shows bcus im scared of trying new things, but for 3rd i would say bobs burgers, bcus that show is actually peak.

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2023 #3

Hello! I can't believe how quickly we've reached the third list of the year! I wasn't able to read as much as I wanted, but I hope you all enjoy these wonderful fics <3

Namjoon

baby fever @95rkives

summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

drunk in love @joon4eva

summary: you and whiskey are never a good combination. or: you’ve been in love with your best friend for years and you might tell him about it while drunk.

Jimin

menace @eoieopda

summary: Your shithead brother, Seokjin, is throwing his annual Valentine’s Day party. You didn’t want to go in the first place - and now his shithead friend, Jimin, is responsible for getting you there.

all mine @souryoong

summary: your new boyfriend can’t make you finish, but your ex boyfriend sure can.

thank you for your service @jiminniethemarshmallow

summary: As a servant of your kingdom, all Jimin wants to do is please you and service you in any way that he can.

Taehyung

high tide @kookslastbutton

summary: Due to Taehyung’s job as a cruise ship Captain, you are constantly miles away from each other. Weekly phonecalls help and this one gets a little nasty and a lot sweet.

Jungkook

something borrowed @alphabetboyluvr

mafia au

chained to you @hisunshiine

idol au

into the wild @bonny-kookoo

summary: The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later, once he gets hungry for a meal?

seven days @kithtaehyung

summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven.

and my man, thank you to my man @darklingjeon

dealer au

because, i love you ch. 12 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should   be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time   on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks   then.

things you don't know @btsgotjams27

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

Yoongi

heartache @sailoryooons

summary: Unresolved feelings lead to nothing but heartache when you run into Yoongi at a wedding five years after breaking up. Especially when you realize that despite Yoongi have feelings for you, there is still another woman on his arm. 

right here ^

summary: You’re tired of the revolving door of boys in your life. Yoongi is tired of watching you nurse feelings in the quiet of your apartment. 

Taehyung

backstage @jeonqkooks

summary: what’s the best way to release energy for someone with an oral fixation?

champagne problems @still-with-koo

summary: you turn down taehyung’s very public marriage proposal. inspired by champagne problems by taylor swift.

Jungkook

6:42 a.m. @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Jungkook is ready to kick off a new day of loving you.

OT7/Multiple Members

cosmic collision @gimmethatagustd

summary: A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn’t expect is the alien that comes with it.

Seokjin

the one with seokjin and without complaints @eoieopda

summary: you don’t want to arrive dateless to a wedding your ex is also attending. enter friend and local hero, kim seokjin.

musical chairs @ugh-yoongi

rival teachers au

lucky ^

things you said when you were drunk

view @noteguk

summary: in which seokjin likes to show people what is his.

sugar sweet @ditttiii

summary: Jin loves sweet things. Jin loves you. add it all together, stir the mixture up, and ta-da! There he has his dessert! Enjoy ♡ Or alternatively where Jin basically uses you as his damn plate and loves every second of it!

wash 'n dry @seokoloqy

summary: The one where Seokjin is the cute RA who catches you doing laundry at 1 AM and you both have time to kill.

thunder @/ppersonna

summary: you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

Yoongi

angel @/sailoryooons

summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences.

carnival of terror @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

crescendo @/ugh-yoongi

established relationship

loose lips ^

friends to lovers

baby maker @shadowkoo

summary: You and Yoongi have been relishing the comfort of your newly married life, savoring each moment together. However, there’s an additional want tugging at your heartstrings – the thought of becoming a mother. That’s right, you want a baby. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready for the journey of bringing a baby into your lives. But he’ll agree to anything that makes you happy, and if it’s a baby you want, it’s a baby you’ll get.

on your period @7ndipity

summary: Yoongi looks after you on your period

don't come yet @jl-micasea-fics

established relationship

night short #25 @euphoricfilter

make up sex

Hoseok

sensuous @delugguk

hot emo hobi @minisugakoobies

i'm yours @yoongiphoria

If you're making a mistake, it's bound to be your favorite one.

bad things come in three @hyungieyoongi

established relationship

hoseok drabble @here4kpopfics

brother's best friend

intoxicated @peachypinkygloss

summary: Drugs make everything better. Even sex.

bones @floralseokjin

summary: you were broken from a past relationship, and Hoseok wanted to fix you, but what price was he willing to pay? Would he end up worse off, or would you realise in time, that your best friend was the one…?

Namjoon

signed, sealed, delivered @fresh-outta-jams

summary: You’re in college when your soulmate tattoo finally shows up: an address. Sending a letter couldn’t hurt, right?

the rich man's crochet club @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When they were freshmen in college, Namjoon began a club with his six closest friends. The one thing they all had in common? V i r g i n s as fuck. Obviously, they couldn’t call the club the Virgins Club and so, the Rich Man’s Crochet Club was born. Until time passes and Namjoon is the only one left. Now, the Club has one, final mission: to get Namjoon laid.

not so dinner date @bangtaninborderland

idol au

breakfast @hamsterclaw

summary: Turns out your big dumb goon can make eggs.

everything slow @hobidreams

summary: your boyfriend catches you missing him with your hand between your legs, his name a moan on your tongue. it looks like you need a little help…

tonight ^

how will you spend the night with your man?

love language @rmnamjoons

summary: Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.

there was a bug @/kimnjss

summary: you and joon have been best friends for years, unexpectedly his feelings start to grow more than platonic. deciding to keep this to him, joon stays as your best friend and roommate. things are going fine, until one night you’re forced to sleep in his room.

out of my league @ppersonna

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

will you let me? @bratkook

summary: Namjoon wants nothing more than to see you stuffed full of his cum, and as his mind starts to wander with thoughts of the future, he has to know if you’d let him.

the package thief @/blog-name-idk

summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he’s hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

[anxiousfanchild]

Ive got 4 requests lined up!! Ill start work on them this weekend. This month has been hell from blown out of proportion discord drama to getting a new job. Please have patience with me {and send me headcanon requests for me to do at work}

[multi-fandom-imagine]

may I please get a rocky x shy kind reader were the reader secretly sings at night outside her house and rocky hears it and thinks it's the most beautiful thing he ever heard and wants to figure out were the beautiful singing coming from he soon find reader and falls in love with her at first sight and he wants her to sing at the speakeasy and meet freckle and ivy

A/n: I am sorry if this sucks, I am very rusty at writing for Lackadaisy 😩.

The night was quiet, save for the whisper of wind through the alleyways and the occasional distant purr of a passing car. Down near the edge of town, tucked away behind a row of ivy-covered houses, one voice rose gently into the night air.

It was soft, unsure, but so achingly beautiful.

Rocky Rickaby had been walking home from the Lackadaisy speakeasy, his violin case slung over his shoulder, his hat tilted low over his brow. He hadn’t expected much from the night—maybe a bottle of bootleg booze and a bit of piano improv before the next storm rolled in. But when the singing reached his ears, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The melody wove through the dark like moonlight on water—clear, sweet, with a longing that caught something in his chest and squeezed. It wasn’t just pretty. It was soulful.

He glanced around, eyes narrowing. The sound was coming from somewhere near the old brick fence lined with wilting roses. Slipping closer on silent paws, he followed the music to a small garden tucked behind a fence. There, under the glow of a porchlight, was a young woman.

You seated on a old rocking chair, swaying ever so slightly, your eyes closed as your lips shaped each note with quiet reverence. You didn’t know anyone was listening. You sang not for the world, but for the stars.

And Rocky?

Rocky’s jaw went slack.

Because he had seen beauty before—on stage, in the glint of danger, in a gleam of whiskey under neon light—but this? This was something else entirely. Your voice, your expression, the way the moonlight touched your hair—it all hit him like a bullet to the heart.

When your song ended , when you had stopped singing and you turned to go inside, he blinked out of his trance, scrambling forward before you could disappear.

“Wait—!”

You gasped, spinning with wide eyes. He held his hands up, hat askew, stumbling over his words.

“Whoa, whoa—sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear! I was just… I was walkin’ by, and I heard you singing, and—sweet molasses—you have got to be real.”

You blinked shyly, pulling your sweater sleeves over your hands, tail twitching under his gaze as you then did your best to avoid his gaze. "You heard me?"

“Heard you? Doll, I felt you.” Rocky pressed a paw to his chest, eyes dramatic, the young man was practically swooning at the mere sight of you. “Right here. You’re incredible. I’m Rocky, by the way—Rocky Rickaby. Violinest, poet, occasional menace to society.”

You giggled, small and hesitant. “I’m… I’m just me.”

He grinned. “Well, just you, would you—hypothetically—be interested in singing at a little place I know? It’s called the Lackadaisy. Speakeasy type deal. You’d be a star, guaranteed...I think it would be a shame that no one else can hear an angle singin .”

You hesitated. “I’ve… I’ve never sung in front of anyone before.” Your voice soft, quiet.

“Then it’s about time you did.” Rocky stepped forward gently, lowering his voice. “You’ve got gold in your throat, sweetheart. You’re hiding treasure from the world.”

Despite your nerves, something about his earnest eyes and reckless charm made your heart flutter. You gave the tiniest nod.

Then next night, Rocky brought you to the Lackadaisy.

Freckle nearly dropped his coffee when he saw you, and Ivy practically bounced in place, her tail swishing. “Oh my gosh, she’s adorable! You found her, Rocky?”

“Found her?” he beamed proudly. “She’s the best thing I’ve ever stumbled into.”

You stood shyly at the edge of the stage, heart pounding in your chest. But when the music started—when Rocky’s eyes met yours, you somehow found the courage to open your mouth and sing.

And the room went still.

Even Viktor stopped polishing glasses.

It was the beginning of something new. Something magical.

Something that, for Rocky Rickaby, felt suspiciously like love at first sight.

And he knew he was not about to let you go.

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Date Night (Discord Drabble)

"Steve! I'm here– oh."

Eddie stops mid-stride, startled at the sight of Robin and Vickie all cozied up on the Harrington's couch, both chowing down popcorn like a pair of ravenous racoons.

"Steve!" Robin screeches in the direction of the kitchen, "Loverboy is here."

Vickie giggles as Robin shoves her hand back into a comically large plastic bowl the pair are barely keeping steady between them.

"Alright, alright!" Steve gripes, walking in from the kitchen and quickly shucking on his jacket. His frown quickly fades as spots Eddie, "Oh, hey man."

He smiles all cute and small – like the popcorn-inhaling duo on the couch isn't even there. Eddie rolls his eyes as the sound of the television grows louder and he only just catches Robin setting the remote back down.

"What is this?" Eddie says, pointing to the two on the couch.

"Date Night," Vickie informs.

Robin recoils and frowns, "Don't point at me, Munson!"

"Why are you here?" he retorts.

"Date Night!" the girls say in unison.

"It's our Date Night!" Eddie argues through gritted teeth.

He scrunches his nose.

But Steve merely shrugs and all but saunters towards him.

"They wanted to have a movie night," he explains, retrieving his keys from his back pocket and spinning them on his finger, "Besides, we're going out anyway."

"But what if – " Eddie begins but quickly shuts his mouth, clicking his jaw and bracing himself for...

"I'm sure Steve has a Rolodex of make-out spots around town for you to pick from," Robin chimes.

A piece of popcorn flies from her mouth and rolls down the blanket onto the floor. She goes wide-eyed, looking at the back of her best friend's perfectly coifed hair and scrambles to clean up.

"Exactly," Steve winks, none the wiser to Robin spilling the entire bowl of popcorn.

[nichenarratives]

Lackadrabbles 1

Just a skit, for the funnies.

Backscratcher

Rocky using his desk ruler as a backscratcher was perhaps the last thing Mordecai expected to open his office to that morning. The door had been locked and there were no windows into the room to use for access. Yet here the irritating musician is, fully standing on the accountant’s desk, bent right over backwards with an arm over his shoulder to ensure the thirty centimeter wooden tool could reach his lower back, an intense look of relief on his face.

In contrast, Mordecai rapidly cycles through an array of minute micro expressions; eyes widening a touch in surprise, he blinks in confusion, then scowls with irritation and a single ear flicker of anger before he slams the door closed. Rocky freezes, eyes wide and pupils narrow, an obtusely bent deer caught in headlights as Mordecai pulls his satchel over his head and wrinkles his nose in discontent. 

“What,” he asks sharply, pausing not for effect but to remember to breathe. “Are you doing with my ruler, Roark?”

The tabby bites his lip, glancing over his shoulder toward the ruler then back at Mordecai, before an anatomically concerning smile broadens across his face. “Morde!” He greets when straightening up, his spine flexing as easily as bent spaghetti as he rolls his shoulders back upright. The tuxedo’s ear flicks again and he squeezes the satchel shoulder strap in a fist. Rocky doesn't seem to notice his displeasure. “Mr May sent me to find you! You didn't answer, so I let myself in. Then I found this back scrat-”

“That is a dual measure imperial-metric table top ruler,” Mordecai corrects in a low, dangerous tone. “Designed to measure both inches and centimeters to the extent dictated by the average desk. It can also be used to create straight lines, grids, even ledgers but it most certainly is not a back scratcher.” 

He places his bag in the guest chair opposite his desk, glaring up at the tabby through his glasses as he advances, his fangs bared as he motions from the carpeted office floor to where Rocky continues to stand. “Even if it were, why does that facilitate standing on my desk? What purpose does elevation serve when scratching your back? The increased gravitational force of two feet won't assist either your reach for transferable force. It's nonsensical!”

It's Rocky's turn to blink, his posture slouched to the side and a lip curled slightly into a sneer, though his wide eyes and twisted muzzle soften his features to a confused stare. Mordecai sucks in breaths after his rant, teeth still bared, his palms turned upwards and open in question as they stare at each other. A second turns into two, then five. Just as Mordecai is about to order him out does Rocky straighten up.

“Well,” he begins now, placing a hand on his hip and puffing out his chest some, his tail swishing behind him contentedly. “You see, it all began in a dream-”

“Leave. Immediately.”

Despite his former confident stance, the gray tabby scrambles to comply with the order, falling over his own ankle and stumbling off the desk in a pile at Mordecai’s feet. He glances up directly into a stern gaze of his coworker and grins sheepishly, a soft chuckle in his throat before he scrabbles out of the door on all fours and pulls the door closed with his foot along the way.

Silence falls in the windowless office. Olive eyes slip closed as Mordecai takes a deep breath. Exhaling sharply through his nose in a huff, he turns around and carefully removes his hat, placing it on the coat rack behind the door. His coat follows, as does his suit jacket, whereupon the accountant turned trigger man carefully rolls his sleeves to his elbows before approaching his desk.

The tuxedo slips into methodically soothing routine setting under for the day: emptying his satchel of important documents, ledgers and books; sitting in his chair and setting out his pens; locating receipts to include in expenses and file away. It's only as he comes to organising his writing equipment, laying it out in order, that Mordecai realises he's missing the very piece of the ensemble Rocky had been using to relieve an awkward itch.

His hand hovers over the empty spot on his desk, a breath momentarily caught in his throat. His setup is incomplete. It instills a momentary discourse in the reserved tuxedo; he can't fulfill his duties without his equipment. His hand shakes a little over the empty space, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Flexing his fingers into a fist, Mordecai takes another pointedly deep breath and leans back in his chair, taking off his glasses to rub the corners of his eyes roughly.

It shouldn't be too difficult to find a replacement or recover his trusted ruler from the musician, but first; Mordecai Heller needs a strong cup of tea…

[smolcuriouskitten]

This was so strange. Why is he so nice to me? Why isnt he yelling at me? He yells at everyone else. He insults everyone else over mistakes like this. Why is he helping me up?!

"Rockelle. Now you know you cant double stitch around the young masters collar. He will complain that it itches." His calm voice radiated in my ear as he helped me up from dropping the sewing supplies all over the room.

My eyes dart around looking for a camera or another device. Is this a prank? Rin never gets this grace when she adds too much soap to the laundry! Why in the hell is he being so gentle with me? "Ah...I apologize Mr. Sebastian. I didnt hear you come in." I went to reach for the fallen supplies and he gently grabs my hand, a smile on his face. "I got it dear."

Dear? Oh god am I dreaming? Wheres the lamp? This cant be the same Sebastian I knew. The man who would throw a fit if a hair was out of place. The man who would raise hell if something was put in the wrong spot. Why is this man who would be yelling at me over what he calls a simple mistake be so calm and collected? WHY IS HE PICKING UP THE THINGS I DROPPED ON THE FLOOR?!

"Are you okay? You look like you seen a ghost." He teases, swiftly picking everything up in one move then setting it aside. I look up at him, god his height is so much more intimidating from this angle. Hes practically looming over the mannequin and I, just looking down at me with those eyes of his. God his eyes were so easy to get lost in. Shit, he asked me something.

"Yes, yes I am fine. Sorry again for causing the trouble." I stutter.

"Good. Get back to work. He needs this suit as soon as possible." He said, leaving me in the room alone with my thoughts. Why am I shaking? Why am I so bothered at his niceness? Was the real Sebastian kidnapped and this replacement is walking around?

Just focus on finishing the damn suit for now, I can worry about this later.

Why am I standing in front of Sebastian's quarters? That was an unspoken rule in the manor, never go to Sebastian's quarters after lights out. He would throw a fit that you were disturbing his rest and causing a fuss over something you could have fixed. My hands were shaking again. I have to know whats gotten into him.

Slowly raising my hand and going to knock, the door swings open. I immediately began to apologize for disturbing him and turning up unannounced to which he just chuckles. Chuckle. He laughed at me. Oh no, Im dead for sure.

"Something must really be bothering you to come by at this hour." He said, as if he was patronizing me. As if he didnt know him being nice was a cry for help and to kill the mimick that took his place! "Yes, something is bothering me." I say, trying to sound normal despite the nervous tremble shaking my words.

"What is it Ms. Simmonds. Its rather late and you have lots of work to do tomorrow and-"

"Look, why were you so nice to me earlier?"

I interrupt and he looks down at me with a surprised expression. No one ever interrupted his long winded speeches before about how work is so important. I heard it more times than I can count but thats not the point. His face softens and his lips curl upward into another gentle smile. The same one he gave me earlier.

His form seemed even more terrifying like this. The dim lights in the hall, contrasting his bright light in his room. His shadow covered me and made me feel even smaller than I already felt. As much as I wanted to just apologize and run away, something told me to stay and figure out an answer. Damn my curiousity.

"Colleagues are meant to be polite and kind Rockelle. What are you talking about?"

"No. No no no. Dont give me that. You scream at Brad for messing up the young masters cooking, you yell at Finn if a single blade of grass is cut incorrectly, and you get so damn upset at Rin for breaking glasses and dishes everyday. Hell, you even yelled at me once upon a time for the master's stitching being done so shabbily that he looked cheap. Any mistake does not go unnoticed with you. So earlier I was expecting you to scream at me and call me silly for dropping such expensive supplies on the ground and getting the delicate threads tangled but you didnt. Whats going on with you?"

He pauses. He just looks down at me with a soft expression, his shoulders were relaxed and his face wasnt stuck in that cold professional look. It was both odd and strangely endearing to see him not be so...mean looking all the time. His silence scared me though, shook a part of me I didnt know existed. Was he going to yell at me now for calling him out? Was he going to shoo me away for asking such invasive questions?

"You are more intuitive than I thought. You notice every thing dont you?"

"Wha...?"

Now I felt even more confused. Why does this man only speak in riddles?!

"What are you trying to say Sebastian?"

"You seem to notice how I treat everyone else but you dont seem to notice the feelings I have for you. Kindness always comes at a price, does it not?"

I freeze. What? Looking around again for any cameras, trying to look at what little of his room I could see for everyone else to jump out and say this was a prank. I look at his face for any signs of him lying. I dont feel my nose burning and his face didnt change. Hes just looking at me waiting for an answer and I dont know how to feel right now.

Its not that I dont like him, hes a refined man with expensive tastes and love for the classics. He loves literature and music, the same things I love. Why does he chose to say this now? Out of all times? In the middle of the night? Why not over dinner or in a more formal setting?

"...Kindness...yes. Yes it does come at a price." I respond softly, my face heating up from both embarassment and coming to grips with the reality of the situation. He likes me. And I like him. Now what happens?

"Would you like to come in to speak further? I dont feel comfortable letting you stand in your night clothes. Its indecent."

"Indecent is what you are for springing this on me." I respond and his smile widens, stepping aside to let me in, closing the door once I step inside.

Why does it feel like I just stepped into the lions den? Or like I just sold my soul to the devil? This feels so strange being welcomed into a forbidden zone. His room was plain, not decorated with any semblance of originality. All of his furniture was a dark wood, almost black. His bed was lavish and looked luxurious, silk sheets with curtains blowing behind the frame and it smelled so much like him in here.

The mix of sulfur and a cologne I cant quite make out. It felt both homey and ominous. He sat on his bed and motioned to the chair in the room that sat nearby. I have a seat and he does too, on his bed with his legs crossed. His lanky frame yet again looms over me in such a way that makes me feel small. I think hes doing it on purpose at this point.

"Rockelle. Our time here is coming to an end. The young master has no need for us within the next few months." He said, to which I nod. I wasnt surprised, the master grew to power so fast, he had no need to worry about us anymore. He always did chose himself. "And with that, this situation isnt exactly ideal, my confession and all. I would love to get to know you more and expose you to a softer side of me. I know you are used to my scary and intimidating side but I want to show you something kinder." He then slouches to not make himself look so big. I knew he was doing it on purpose.

"This is all...so much for me. I am just not used to a man who likes me being nice to me." I bluntly respond and he just tilts his head at my words, visibly confused. Yeah, me and you both.

"Why is that? Was Brad and Finn unkind to you?"

"No no that's not what I mean. I mean romance has never been easy for me. Love hurts me. It scares me. I am open to the idea of course but I worry that it might not stay kind to me."

Was it a mistake to pour my heart out? Maybe. His facial expression continued to look confused at me, almost as if he couldnt believe what he was hearing. He then leaves the comfort of his bed to kneel in front of me. Oh god I feel faint.

"You are the most beautiful person I know. You have a kindness thats so much greater than you. I know you and I havent had the best history but I want to change that, if you allow me." His words sound genuine. They felt genuine. This feels so strange to me. Hes not yelling at me, belittling me, calling me names. He didnt even raise his voice.

Hes being kind and being genuine and I dont know how to handle this. What if he ends up like Magic? "I...I will allow you. If you p..promise not to...to..to hit me." I mumble, which he just gives me an even more confused look. "Why on earth would I do that?" He asks, his tone laced with concern.

"Isnt...Isnt that what lovers do?" I ask, my tone is just as confused.

"Rockelle. My dear. No. They dont do that. I mean they can in a sexual sense...but not in a loving relationship."

"Oh. So you wont hit me based on my answer?"

"My poor darling. No I wont hit you." He gently grabs my hands and kisses at the knuckles.

"Okay. Um...I accept. Love just scares me is all." I say with a soft smile.

Sebastian then nods, slowly reaching up to hold my face, hesitating before I nod and rest my head in his hands. "Thank you...for this opportunity. I hope I can change how love has made you feel in the past."

[bg-sparrow]

mcfly july 2024 || 🌲🌲 || day 9 A New Puppy

After Rocky ran off and made friends with Doc Brown’s sheepdog, it became apparent to Sherman Peabody that his pup might benefit having a permanent playmate.

A sibling.

And now that they had a yard, why not?

Fortuitously, the shelter had another golden retriever. She was shy, but Sherman had no doubt Rocky would provoke her puppy energy.

“Do you wish to rename her?”

“No.”

Rocky’s tail hadn’t stopped wagging yet.

“This is Natasha,” Sherman said, setting the smaller dog at his feet. “You show her around and be friends,” he said to Rocky as they scampered off. “No shoes!”

[chancecity]

“You aren’t wearing that.”

“Fi, I’m never not wearing this.”

“Yeah, exactly—“

“But it’s not like it’s the same suit! I have like, ten of these!”

“Rocky. I couldn’t give less of a shit about your hygiene. You are always wearing this.”

In the early hours of the morning, in her currently empty and rather sad apartment, she gestures obviously to his freshly pressed quintessential red suit, his black-metal framed sunglasses with the rosy lenses, his hair styled up and wild just the way he preferred it.

She hadn’t given him her address, and he hadn’t told her how he found it. She… probably didn’t want to know. But that was definitely the first reason she was irritated. The other reason..

“You wear that whenever you’re on the news,” she continued, rubbing her temples to stave off the coming headache. “If people see you out on the street like that, they’ll know it’s you.”

A fair point, he guessed. But… also stupid. Stupid and lame and boring and entirely contradictory to everything he had ever worked for.

Okay. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. Still.

“Yeah, uh, that’s the point?” He grinned at her again, apparently taking away any chances of that headache going away on its own as Fiona unscrewed a small bottle of pills on the kitchen table. “I’ve worked really hard to cultivate my brand, yeah?”

“‘Domestic Terrorism’ isn’t a brand the Hero Corps wants to be associated with,” she muttered around the chalky white pill on her tongue before washing it down.

“I’d say it’s right up their alley,” he mumbled to himself.

“Ok, look.” With a sharp clack her mug is back down onto the table, her gaze like a focused laser beam, a tether keeping his as her tone shifted to one he could imagine her using with an unruly child. “You may not be the highest priority villain on HQ’s radar, but it was hard enough convincing them not to just shove you into a cell. I got you out of this for now. But you’re suspect number one for these disappearances, and the only way to change that is to… just, work with me here, okay?”

She held his eyes with her own, irritated, tired and…

He had never seen her out of her work, had never seen her real face, had never been able to see every detail of her expression and her nervous habits. Even now it was all subtle, but if he looked close enough…

Distress.

Why..?

“And you… want that?”

She blinked at him. He continued. “You want me to work with you. You want to work with me.”

“I don’t want to work with you,” she sighed before finishing off her mug with three large gulps and leaving it on the table. She wasn’t going to take it to the sink and turn her back to him right now. Probably the smart decision. “But I do want to get this figured out. If people are going missing, and if you know everyone connected to the case, it’s my duty to investigate any possible leads.”

Could that really be it?

“And… you said I’m the number one suspect,” he pressed, picking at his fingernails to cut off the rather intense eye contact.

“Don’t get cocky. You just.. you know all the other villains potentially involved personally,” she explained, stilted and tight as she thought about her words. He was still the enemy, just… “People are going missing, to god knows where, and that fits whatever you have going on in that mall pretty perfectly…”

The Compound. Where he lived with his friends, his brethren of the stage that was this world, his Starlets. All of whom Rocky had spoken to, had convinced to move in and out of the city, to join the cause for freedom of the heart.

Fiona had snuck in with no backup, no paper-trail, and barely a plan. She had seen it, gotten at least a few hours of investigation in before getting caught. Even then, the only reason she was caught was because she came to him for answers. He had recognized her words, her unconscious mannerisms, things she wasn’t even aware of about herself that he had only learned through 5 years of cat and mouse.

She hadn’t finished her thought. He was suspect number one… but..?

He raised his eyes back to hers, still intently trained on him. “But?”

A pause, her eyes boring into him as he found himself barely able to break her surface. A barely perceivable, unreadable quirk at the corner of her lips. What was that..?

“But you didn’t do it.”

She had said it with such conviction. Such certainty.

And then the look hit him.

‘Dear god…’ his thoughts barely clear, slowly piecing together the pieces in front of him, ‘she’s smiling.’

A sudden heat rushed to his face and ears, a spike of chemicals rushing through his spine and shocking his nervous system, electric.

Keep it together. Hold it down!

“Oh?” He tried to sound casual, but couldn’t contain a small crack in his voice. “Khm, and how ah… how’d you figure?”

She knew. She could obviously hear it, see it, smell it in the air. She had caught him off guard, and that smile (though now that he knew that’s what it was, he would describe it as more of a smirk) told him she not only knew, but that she was even a bit pleased with herself over it.

“It isn’t your MO,” she started explaining, only now turning her back to him to wash her mug. “You have alibi’s for a fourth of the incidents, and none of the people in your little group match the descriptions of the missing persons reports.”

“…How long did you say you were in there, again..?”

“Long enough to confirm my suspicions,” she shrugged, ripping the last paper towel off the roll and drying the mug before placing it next to the coffee maker and turning back to him.

Confirmed suspicions..? So… she never thought he did it. She had thought he was innocent from the start of her little investigation.

Of course she did. 5 years wasn’t nothing, after all; for as much as he knew about her from that amount of time, she was bound to know just as much about him.

This time, he didn’t risk talking. There was no way he could keep his voice from cracking again with his throat this tight and his nervous system this Alive. He only watched quietly as she walked over to a small closet near the door, rummaging for a moment before tossing a coat in his direction.

His hands flailed a bit to catch it, but he managed (that’s score one: Rocky). A heavy wool coat, men’s medium. Was it hers..? It seemed a bit too big for her, and not enough in her style (at least, in his opinion).

Small red hairs poked from the fuzz. It smelled like… linen-scented air freshener, covering the faintest whiff of tobacco and sweat.

“What are you doing,” Fiona asked dryly with a hand on the front door, watching him sniff the coat with a faint confusion.

Oops. He threw the coat on thoughtlessly over his suit, bounding out of the apartment the moment she opened the door.

“Hey, whose coat is thi—?”

“We’re running late,” she cut him short, already halfway down the hallway after turning the lock.

“…God, you’re fast like this too?”

[salamandergoo]

STWG Prompt: Balcony

Vickie Hunter didn’t like parties, but here she was, sipping shitty beer and squeezing between people, looking for…

Well, it didn’t matter who she was looking for.

She made her way up the stairs of a stranger’s house and stumbled across a room with a little balcony overlooking the backyard. Perfect.

The early summer air was sticky and warm as she squinted down at the poorly lit yard, searching the crowd of people. “Robin!” She called, waving down as she finally caught sight of her.

And then the girl of her dreams was staring back up at her and grinning.

[lee-by-thy-side]

when you kill off your own oc in a drabble and you realize you like writing angst.