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tomboy420 · 12 days ago

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Whoa

Far Away.

TW: Sebastian missing Reader, them not seeing each other since he was accused, let me know if I missed any!

WC: 835

A/n: I haven’t posted a fanfic for a while, I just did this to fill in that gap. This one is my newest one, BUT I’M WORKING ON SOME MORE!!! I kinda just slapped this one together, and I just made 💩 up about Seb’s job, but overall, I hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Sebastian, do you think we’ll ever be free? At least away from here?”

“Hey, don’t worry, Kid, we’ll get out of here eventually.”

“Y-You really think so?”

“Sure I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be making the effort.”

The two chatted away in (p. AI. nter’s) room. It wasn’t often Sebastian and he got to speak alone, so they’d sometimes take advantage of that. They just talked, sometimes laughed, and (p. AI. nter) would usually ask something about Sebastian.

But as they continued talking, (p. AI. nter) suddenly had a thought. A question in his mind as he stared at his friend’s golden band.

“Hey, Sebastian, what’s that ring around your finger?”

That question threw Sebastian off. He was silent for a few minutes until he finally responded, subtly glaring at (p. AI. nter).

“What do you mean?”

That query alone told (p. AI. nter) that Sebastian was getting defensive, so he quickly answered,

“I-I’m only asking! I’ve always seen you wearing it, ‘never taking it off once.”

That seemed to make Sebastian relax. ‘Untense as his expression also softened a little from his glare.

“Kid, you should be careful what you ask. You never know what could happen.”

“But can’t you just answer? I’m pretty curious.”

Through (p. AI. nter’s) curiosity, Sebastian chuckled. Shaking his head, he gazed at the ring snug around his finger, leaning against the wall.

“This ring… This isn’t the real one. I made a copy of the one I had before when I was still human. I still have my actual one in my drawer for safekeeping. But… This is a replica of my wedding ring.”

This threw (p. AI. nter) through a loop, his circles as eyes immediately widening.

“W-Wedding ring?! You were married?!! How long have we been friends and I didn’t know this?!”

“Well, I was never married, per se… they were just my fiancé. Plus, you never asked,”

“Well, how was I supposed to ask in the first place if I had no idea!!?”

“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”

After a moment of (p. AI. nter) just glaring at Sebastian as he stayed nonchalant, (p. AI. nter) spoke again,

“What were they like?”

The question made Sebastian look away, his brows arched as he frowned. “They were… The most gorgeous and loveliest person anyone could ever meet. I was honestly surprised they liked me back in the first place when we started dating.”

After a pause, (p. AI. nter) spoke again.

“What were you two like together?”

Sebastian smiled slightly. He felt a warmth within him as he reminisced about what it was like.

What it was like to have you around.

~~~

“Hey, Sebastian!”

You called from the other side of the phone.

“Hey, Lovely~ How are you, today?”

Sebastian replied,

“I’m good! How about you? How’s work?”

“Eh, not much. ‘Not a lot to fix today, which I’d normally find relieving, but, y’know, today’s especially boring. ‘Kinda do wish I had more to do.” Sebastian spoke as he played with the phone cord.

“Hm. How much longer until you’ll be back home?”

“I don’t know, it’ll probably be two weeks. It’s a good thing I only have to work on the top floors here. The other guys have extended work.”

“Oh, okay… Just… Be safe, okay? I hate knowing my adorable fiancé is so lonely~ I miss you, my lovely.” You reminded him as you said ‘Fiancé’.

It was a funny thing you did. You loved reminding and calling Sebastian your fiancé. It had always brought warmth inside his chest every time you brought it up. He would always look and/or fidget with his ring every time.

“… I know, love, but I, unfortunately, can’t ask to leave early. This company has a fucking tantrum whenever anyone asks off early, no matter how many workers there are. But I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you.”

“… I love you more.”

~~~

Then the call ended. It was because of the stupid company, Urbanshade, that Sebastian and you couldn’t be together all the time. All that time away, and he could’ve been spending time with you.

Why? Why was Urbanshade so cruel? Why couldn’t they just give him back his normal life? They couldn’t even just let him send any mail? Why did they choose him out of everyone in the damn facility to experiment on?

Why?

He did end up seeing you… It wasn’t until the next time that he was accused and immediately locked up. He hoped you never hated him because of the false crimes he was charged with. ‘Hoped that you, as selfish as it sounded, never moved on. He still loves you dearly. The memories of you were so far, yet so vivid.

You were the reason for his motivation to escape. He was so close. He knew, he felt it, that he could see you again.

Even if it’s just for the last time.

~~~

A/n: Thank you for taking the time to read this!! Again, I really hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry I haven’t been posting frequently, trust me, I wish I were that kind of writer 😓

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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tomboy420 · 15 days ago

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Far Away.

TW: Sebastian missing Reader, them not seeing each other since he was accused, let me know if I missed any!

WC: 835

~~~

“Sebastian, do you think we’ll ever be free? At least away from here?”

“Hey, don’t worry, Kid, we’ll get out of here eventually.”

“Y-You really think so?”

“Sure I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be making the effort.”

But as they continued talking, (p. AI. nter) suddenly had a thought. A question in his mind as he stared at his friend’s golden band.

“Hey, Sebastian, what’s that ring around your finger?”

That question threw Sebastian off. He was silent for a few minutes until he finally responded, subtly glaring at (p. AI. nter).

“What do you mean?”

That query alone told (p. AI. nter) that Sebastian was getting defensive, so he quickly answered,

“I-I’m only asking! I’ve always seen you wearing it, ‘never taking it off once.”

That seemed to make Sebastian relax. ‘Untense as his expression also softened a little from his glare.

“Kid, you should be careful what you ask. You never know what could happen.”

“But can’t you just answer? I’m pretty curious.”

Through (p. AI. nter’s) curiosity, Sebastian chuckled. Shaking his head, he gazed at the ring snug around his finger, leaning against the wall.

This threw (p. AI. nter) through a loop, his circles as eyes immediately widening.

“W-Wedding ring?! You were married?!! How long have we been friends and I didn’t know this?!”

“Well, I was never married, per se… they were just my fiancé. Plus, you never asked,”

“Well, how was I supposed to ask in the first place if I had no idea!!?”

“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”

After a moment of (p. AI. nter) just glaring at Sebastian as he stayed nonchalant, (p. AI. nter) spoke again,

“What were they like?”

After a pause, (p. AI. nter) spoke again.

“What were you two like together?”

Sebastian smiled slightly. He felt a warmth within him as he reminisced about what it was like.

What it was like to have you around.

~~~

“Hey, Sebastian!”

You called from the other side of the phone.

“Hey, Lovely~ How are you, today?”

Sebastian replied,

“I’m good! How about you? How’s work?”

“Hm. How much longer until you’ll be back home?”

“I don’t know, it’ll probably be two weeks. It’s a good thing I only have to work on the top floors here. The other guys have extended work.”

“Oh, okay… Just… Be safe, okay? I hate knowing my adorable fiancé is so lonely~ I miss you, my lovely.” You reminded him as you said ‘Fiancé’.

“… I love you more.”

~~~

Then the call ended. It was because of the stupid company, Urbanshade, that Sebastian and you couldn’t be together all the time. All that time away, and he could’ve been spending time with you.

Why?

You were the reason for his motivation to escape. He was so close. He knew, he felt it, that he could see you again.

Even if it’s just for the last time.

~~~

A/n: Thank you for taking the time to read this!! Again, I really hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry I haven’t been posting frequently, trust me, I wish I were that kind of writer 😓

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#writers on tumblr #sebastian solace x reader #roblox pressure #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #painter pressure #p.ai.nter pressure #angst #A little fluff #fanfic #pressure sebastian #sebastian solace x you #roblox pressure x reader #roblox pressure x you #pressure #pressure x reader #pressure x you #human sebastian

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tomboy420 · 29 days ago

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not only are the players doing sidequests so are the audience members

update: rip alex the great </3

#alex the rabbit #rip #alex the great #reblog

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tomboy420 · 1 month ago

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Okay, enough excuses. Bully me until I finally work on these damn fanfics, please.

#writers on tumblr #notes #bully me

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tomboy420 · 1 month ago

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Case in point: I have art references from 2007 that I still haven’t categorized 😭

#reblog

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tomboy420 · 1 month ago

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#reblog

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tomboy420 · 2 months ago

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37 FOLLOWERS??!!! OMGOSH, THANK YOU!!!!

I PROMISE I’M MAKING ANOTHER FANFIC!! It just… Takes me time… To have the time… And to be motivated… BUT I WILL FINISH THEM!!!

#writers on tumblr #notes #It’s still fucking crazy I have 37 followers…#SOMEONE SAVE ME FROM THIS PROCRASTINATING HELL!!!

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tomboy420 · 2 months ago

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Dude, no one knows how much research I did for this ONE fanfic… It’s literally the 1930s! So I felt the need to research for Reader!

Hi there! This is my first time asking for an x reader ever lol I don't know if Iam doing this well-

Anyways.

Could I ask for a Rocky Rickaby x reader where the reader is a 18-19 years old foreigner girl (idk if my request can be very specific but... could I ask her to be Tunisian? Iam tunisian and i never see xreaders with some ;-; so her main languages would be french and arabic tho she is fluent in english) that just moved from Saint Louis to study art (cartoon/animation)?

I would like a liddol something on their first meeting (heres a plot idea ive had):

Rocky could be busking on the streets (he already joined the Lackadaisy but ig they put him out for a break lmao) And the reader couldve been carrying looads of heavy art supplies (sketchbooks beigger than herself and stuff) and dropped a bottle of paint next to him and he helps her carry some of her stuff as she goes home and they get to know eachother and stuff 👁👁(HAHA we can see i've been thinking about it- inspired by some recent experience ive had).

If you'd like you can write a few more stuff about, idk habits they developed (maybe reader passes by the street where he is sometimes and brings him pastries... they could chill, him playing, her doing life sketches... he could become her muse... i imagine they'd really hit it off, the reader being an artistic, passionate, giddy , very sweet and empathetic soul and Rocky reminding her of her childhood self and truly understanding and seeing through him and his happy mask. Maybe she could become someone he could rely on and, golly, even be calm with!! Sorry iam getting ahead of myself.... )

Uhm.

Anyways!

Sorry again for this long ass text haha!!! And i hope you have a nice day♡

A new friend

T.W: a bit of angst on some parts. Mentions of racism, mentions of naysayers, mentions of Rocky being lonely. Let me know if I missed any!

W.C: 3,654

A/n: I'M SO SORRY!!!! I FEEL HORRIBLE! You were my FIRST ask, and I'm SORRY it took 4 months to finally finish it! I kept getting writers block for this and plain ol’ procrastination played a part as well… I genuinely can’t put to words how bad I feel.

~~~

Most people doubted you, saying it was foolish for a woman like you to dream of being a cartoonist, some even going so far as saying it was impossible, all because “Have you ever heard of a Tunisian girl drawing for a living?”

Well, you proved all your doubters wrong.

You had gotten the job of your dreams in St. Louis.

Of course, it was difficult leaving your home. You were scared of the possibilities that could happen. One was that you wouldn’t have been accepted and moved to St. Louis for no purpose at all; another fear was that everyone would have judged you for being Tunisian, even being scared of that being the reason for you not being accepted in the industry; you weren’t ashamed for being Tunisian, not at all. You were just aware of how some people would react to it. So you worked hard, harder than you’ve ever. And were determined to be an animator. When it came to cartoons, they helped you as a way to escape reality. Every time you felt blue —or any other negative emotion— you would draw; it helped you through bumpy roads in your life, and you were willing to do it as a living.

Maybe the cartoons would help other people as well, or maybe not. You weren’t sure.

But that didn’t stop you from applying for the job and doing what you loved. You cherished cartoons, so you just needed to figure out the outcome independently. Like a puzzle, you wouldn’t have ever known how it would turn out unless you unraveled it yourself.

~~~

You were busy drawing concept art for a new project for your job at home when the tip of your pencil suddenly chipped. You let out a frustrated grunt and went to get your pencil sharpener but soon realized you were running low on supplies. You decided to go and buy a little more that afternoon just to get it out of the way.

You, admittedly, had bought more than you needed.

You just kept seeing what you liked and couldn’t help but buy it. So what if you had a moment of weakness?

What was that saying? The more the merrier? It sure described this situation in your opinion.

~~~

Rocky was headed back to the Lackadaisy after having taken care of some business Miss M informed him to do. He was walking down the streets of Mississippi when he saw a young dame, either the same age or a little younger than him, holding a load of brown bags that looked as if on the verge of falling, spilling everything from inside. Her ears were down, her face cringed, and her back curved from the weight. She looked both ways of the road as best as she could while holding the heavy bags, then walked across. When she had finally crossed the street, she dropped a small glass bottle of red paint, luckily not breaking nor spilling, but she didn’t seem to notice, so Rocky did the gentleman thing and grabbed it for her. “Excuse me, miss! I believe you may have accidentally left your red paint behind!” he shouted.

You turn, having just heard someone shout, and see a male staring back at you. He looked to be around your age. He was a sight for sore eyes. He stuck out like a sore thumb. He looked beaten; black eye, scruffled-up outfit, bruised and battered like he just got hit by a bus. What on Earth happened to him that made him look like this? He wore blue pants, doused in dirt, a white —or the tale tell signs of white, some spots lighter than others— Undershirt with the sleeves tucked on his elbows, with spenders, the stripe on his right over his shoulder, and the stripe on his left hanging off his shoulder, making him look more unhinged; and a torn orange tie, hanging loosely over his neck and surprisingly still attached. You were baffled, but you didn’t have time to say something because —by the time you finished your thought process— he was already toward you, handing out a small glass bottle of paint you didn’t know you had dropped. “O-oh! Uh- Thank you! I didn’t feel it fall. I’m more focused on trying to balance all these bags, heh. Uhh… Do you mind putting it back for me?” You asked, gesturing your head to all the bags. “Absolutely! How could I not help such a gentlewoman as yourself!… Speaking of helping, should I offer some assistance? If so, I’m here to offer!” The beaten male said. “Oh yes, of course! That would be much appreciated.” You said. He took half of what you were carrying, and you both walked together, him tailing beside you. “Rocky!” He shouted, “I’m sorry?”

“I’m Rocky!” He said again,

“Oh, well, I’m (Y/n). If I may ask, why is it you look like you got hit by a… bus?” You asked, having a bus being the only comparison you could think of. Rocky visibly tensed up, probably caught off guard by your question. “Because I… did get hit by a bus?” He said in a tone even he was aware was either wearily or questionly.

But from your worried expression, you bought it,

“Oh my, really!? A-are you sure it is the best idea to be helping me instead of getting to a hospital!?” You exclaimed, “Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine! There is no need for doctors! I’ve been through worse! And see? I hold these up perfectly fine as well!” He yelled back, gesturing towards the bags with his head while holding it up a little more to demonstrate his words. Hearing Rocky say he’s been through worse did not make it any better; therefore, the horrified face you gave him, but then Rocky gave you a desperate look as if he didn’t want to talk about it. You hesitated but ultimately decided to do as he asked.

After that, you both fell into awkward silence. Until eventually, Rocky spoke.

“Where are you from?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where did you live before here?” Rocky inquired.

“…I lived in Tunisia.” You said skeptically. You’ve dealt with your fair share of people not liking you just by your ethnicity. Some people would judge just by your tiny accent, let alone telling them you used to live in Tunisia. But you lightened up after Rocky grinned from ear to ear, “That’s remarkable! If I may ask, if you lived there your whole life, why don’t you have an accent? I mean, I can tell you have a small one. What language do you speak!? Tell me everything that’s like over there!” You chuckled happily at his enthusiasm, joyful and relieved that he wasn’t like those sorts. And at his reaction that looked as if a child was told of a new candy store. You started telling him what Tunisia was like and what you did for a career. Even demonstrated the languages you spoke by saying small sentences for him in Arabic and French; he even told you some things about him. Eventually, after you got to your apartment, Rocky helped put the bags down, but then he looked at a mounted clock on the wall and yelped. Startled, you ask what’s wrong. Rocky quickly said he’d forgotten he still had work and was late, then scrambled out, leaving you with a confused face.

You walked towards the front door and closed it.

You were going to miss your new friend. Hopefully, if you ever see him again, he’ll look more… less injured. You turned around to walk towards your desk but saw a receipt on the floor.

You crouched down and grabbed it, then observed it. It was from a place called Little Daisy’s Café. You recognized the title. You had eaten there once before, but you knew the cash receipt wasn’t yours. It had to be Rocky’s because he just ran out of your flat; it would make sense if it had flown out of his pocket. You didn’t know where he lived or where he worked, so you thought maybe if you visited the Café often, you would eventually see him again. If Rocky had been there once, he’d probably be there again.

You weren’t sure if you would see Rocky again, so maybe this would help come upon him again.

You had a delightful time talking with him; —you don’t know what exactly— but something about Rocky pulled you towards him. The dramatic way he spoke, the animated way he demonstrated, the skip of his walks, and his wacky and childish personality. Perhaps it was from a lack of friends that you wanted to see him so badly, but you were working hard, so friends weren’t a big priority. You did obviously interact with others, but mostly the people at your work, and they weren’t friends. They were just co-workers; plus, it wasn't the same. You wanted to be with someone and actually have fun. To laugh and enjoy the banter, like you did with Rocky. Was that so much to ask? Not to you, it wasn’t. You could be selfish sometimes; heck, you moved out of your home country just to follow your dreams; who says friends shouldn’t be on the list? You were just too busy most of the time, that was it.

~~~

It was the next day. You had awoken earlier than usual that day so you could have more time. You were walking to Little Daisy’s Café Like you had planned the day before. It took a bit of asking around and taking familiar turns you vaguely remembered —having only been there once and that being an accident because you were just walking around and exploring St. Louis— but you eventually found it. You stood right in front of the door, looking at the side where the window was with a text that read Little Daisy’s Café. As you stepped into the bakery, the smell of freshly baked goods enveloped you, enticing your senses and causing your stomach to rumble. The sweet notes of cinnamon mingled with the rich scent of chocolate, while hints of buttery pastries wafted through the air, each fragrance more irresistible than the last. There were people there, eating away at whatever they ordered, some talking and mingling while others just read whatever book they had, which you had little to no care of what the titles were. You went up to the front, waiting for someone to appear, and not too long after, a girl —not much older than you— came from a door you assumed to be the kitchen. “Hello! And welcome to Little Daisy’s Café!‘See anything you like?” she said in a chipper voice. Her fur was brown in coloration, with yellow eyes and dark brown hair styled in a bob. She wore a dress that had cuffs where the neck was with a drooping bow tied nicely in it. You peered up at the chalkboards above, reading through the lists of freshly made goodies they had. Eventually, you found what you liked and told the girl, walking towards whatever available table caught your eye. Waiting, you looked around the place, taking in the environment, when suddenly you heard the bell above the entrance chime. Naturally, you turned your attention to the glass door and saw a familiar face.

It was Rocky.

You’d anticipated right.

A slight smile formed on your lips. You didn’t expect it so soon, though. You thought it would’ve taken at least a couple more visits. He looked in much better shape than he had yesterday. No longer was he as beaten, but he still had a few bruises you could see; you noticed his outfit was much nicer and now completed. —his blue pants were now neat and clean, his undershirt, from what you could see, was completely white, and his orange tie was as good as new, but what was new was a large blue jacket and matching fedora had adorned him.— Rocky walked up to the cashier, talking merrily to her about whatever, while you stayed and observed him, now second guessing if you should walk up to him, afraid he might find you creepy. But you sucked it up and mustered the courage to speak to him. You waited until Rocky ambled from the cashier girl and sat at one of the booths. You stood up from your seat and trekked towards the blue-suited man, “صباح الخير يا روكي! كيف حالك؟ هل تتذكرني؟ منذ الأمس.” You reminded, in Arabic; wanting to give it more familiarity. He looked at you with wide eyes, ears suddenly down and flat, but then beamed immediately, ears going straight up, noticing it was you. “(Y/n)! How are you? So nice to see you again! How did you know I was here?” Rocky asked very cheerfully even as he had no clue what you had said. You chuckled, “I found a receipt on my floor and figured it was yours. I recognized the name, so I assumed you would’ve been here again.” you said, shrugging. “Well, I was about to get some pancakes, but while you’re here, I would love to chat with you more while we dine in!” The blue-suited man said optimisticly. You agreed with the same enthusiasm Rocky had, then sat across from him and gabbed. —Even after the food came, you still conversed— You both talked and talked and talked, but after you two finished, you decided you should leave before you were late for work and bid adieu to Rocky and strolled out with a big closed-lip smile.

~~~

After all of that, you visited often at Little Daisy’s Café. You were even recognized as a regular since you primarily talked to Rocky. The cashier girl —you knew as Ivy after a couple of visits— engaged with you in conversations. Then eventually, she offered you a miniature thing that of a card symbol of clubs and whispered for you to meet her back at the Café. After finding what you think was called Lackadaisy, with Ivy by your side, you were star-struck and completely in awe when you saw the hidden, grand space, even if everything inside seemed a little depressing. You chatted with the people you were introduced to by Ivy, and you found them quite lovely. Surprisingly, Rocky wasn’t there, but as you suddenly reminded yourself of Rocky, you asked about him. When they told you the work he held at Lackadaisy and what he did, you were worried, not exactly like the idea of him risking his life for a few drinks. But at the same time, it explained why Rocky looked so… ruffled up in the first meeting. Eventually, as you’re still down there, Rocky made his presence known as he walked through the large doors, humming a tune. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and stopped humming whatever song was in his head, his eyes wide as he was surprised to see you in the speakeasy. “(Y/n)?” He asked. “Rocky! C'est un plaisir de vous voir!” You said in French as you walked toward the blue-suited man, a big smile evident on your face. It became a habit to speak in your other languages when around Rocky. Seeing how his face beamed from hearing it. You thought it was cute, thinking he looked like a child being shown a brand-new toy. “How did you find the Lackadaisy?” He questioned again, “Ivy showed me this place! It truly is wonderful. And the people here are justpleasant! Why hadn’t you shown me yet?” You happily inquired.

Rocky did not know how to respond, not wanting to bluntly tell the truth. “Well… I didn’t know if I could trust you…” He said as his face scrunched up, worried you might take offense.

But you didn’t.

You smiled softly at Rocky, “I understand. You can’t trust many with this sort of secret, but I assure you, you can trust me. It’s very much an exquisite facility.” You spoke gently at Rocky. He softened at your reassurance, happy he could trust you. The other noticed something off with Rocky; how his tail flicked when he saw you, how his ears twitched from the sound of your voice, and how his eyes dilated as he looked at you. The same reaction came from you as well, but more subtle. Although the responses were obvious, none of them said anything of it.

As time passed, everyone grew accustomed to you, some even befriending you. You truly loved it at the Lackadaisy, usually just chatting with everyone, then leaving when it was time for your departure.

Today was like any other. After work, you go visit the Lackadaisy, chat and chat and chat until you declare your leave, Rocky tagging along sometimes. This was one of those times. Rocky asked you if he could walk you home, and with a smile, you said yes.

After walking together for several minutes, you both finally made it to your humble abode, “May you permission me inside?” Asked Rocky, ears leaning back slightly. “Of course. How many times do I have to tell you, you can follow me whenever, Rocky?” You asked with a giggle. You shuffled through your keys until you finally found the right one and unlocked your door. You both ambled inside, you immediately saunter toward your desk and started drawing while Rocky sat on your couch with a book he picked up from your bookshelf, making himself at home. You couldn’t help but stare at him, admiring that he found comfort in your residence. It wasn’t the first time you thought of it, but now —for any odd reason— you had the confidence to ask him, “Rocky, is it fine if I draw you?” He seemed taken aback by your question, his attention abandoning the book and eyes wide as he looked at you; he appeared as if he was in disbelief that you bothered to ask at all. You repeated yourself after Rocky didn’t respond, to which he frantically nodded and gave his consent.

Both of you were seated at your dinner table, Rocky posed, and you hunched over your notebook. You drew every detail of him you saw in your style, making sure you didn’t miss anything. He was beginning to stiffen after a period of sitting and not moving a hair. You felt terrible making him stay like that, but couldn’t help but find it amusing. His face was scrunched up like a child who couldn’t decide the topping for their ice cream or what toy to pick out in the aisle. But he was doing a better job at sitting still than you initially thought he would. You honestly could stay like that. Relishing in the comfortable silence between you, the gramophone played a calming tune. Rocky was someone you found comfort in. Something you realized not long after meeting him. He was an ocean of solace and nostalgia; Rocky’s charm always made you laugh, and his childish behavior brought back merry memories of the past. You cherished him more than you could ever say.

You dropped your pen once you were completed, a big grin adoring your face as you shouted, “لقد اكتمل!” and immediately gave it to Rocky. He clasped your sketchbook and took a good look at your illustration. You veered around the table to be at his side to ogle at your work, proud of how amazingly detailed it was. You then steered your attention to Rocky. Only to be met with a frown, arched eyebrows on his face, and flat ears.

An expression you’d never seen Rocky uphold.

“Rocky, what’s wrong? Is something the matter, is it the sketch?” You asked, worried that your drawing may have triggered something or that it was just horrendous. “Blasphemy! Of course, it’s not the drawing! It is an extraordinary piece of craftwork that should be hung in museums all across the orb and farther… It’s just… It’s me. And not a soul has done anything of this sort before… for me.” He looked woefully on the floor with his ears down during the last sentence, as if —if he’d done pitifully enough— the floor would swallow him up.

Rocky unexpectedly felt the pressure of somebody against his back as arms were wrapped around his neck. Leaning forward slightly as a way to leave the abrupt feeling. Rocky realized you were hugging him. Rocky reached a hand to gently grab your arm and held it, closing his eyes, wanting to relish this moment of comfort. —despite still being bewildered.— Rocky never had anybody try and comfort him in a moment of blue. Usually, he would be looked down upon the few times he showed it.

“You are a greater worth than you realize, Rocky. And I hope you’ll soon realize that.” You held him a bit closer as an emphasis to your words.

You remained like that for what felt like a while. Rocky relished this as if it would be his last moment of solace, —(It won’t)— and you huddled against him from his back.

“I’m fine now, (Y/n). You can let go.” Rocky said reluctantly, not wanting this moment to be cut short. But he knew the both of you couldn’t stay like that for the remainder of the night. He’d have to put a stop to it eventually. As you let go of him and stepped back, Rocky turned around. He looked at your eyes and smiled, but it was different than his usual ones.

It was the softest and gentlest smile Rocky had ever adorned in your time knowing him.

“Thank you,” Rocky said in the most genuine way he could muster. You smile sweetly at him, your head tilted to the side slightly, “هل تريدني أن أرسم المزيد من القطع الفنية لك؟”

~~~

A/n: Thank you for reading this! I believe there are misuses of punctuation and/or misplacements, so please point them out! And thank you to the Anon for the ask, and —again— I’m VERY sorry for the long wait! I hope this is to your liking! I know I went a little rogue a bit, but I ONLY did that so it can go with the story!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#writers on tumblr #rocky rickaby x reader #rocky rickaby #lackadaisy rocky #lackadaisy #notes #research

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