#EYES EMOJI at 'From: Ashley'
Text
Not So Secret Girlfriend - Ona Batlle x Reader
Summary: Another Polyglot fic. In which everyone is suddenly very concerned with R's love life.
A/N: This was requested by someone months ago (I forgot to write down who it was because it wasn't an anon) and I finally got around to writing it. The ending isn't exactly what I wanted but alas.
The international break is something that you have conflicted feelings about.
On one hand, you get to see and play alongside your national teammates and represent your country at the highest level.
And on the other hand, you have to make two 9+ hour flights in two weeks and jet lag can be a real bitch.
At the beginning of your time with the national team, it was especially bad because not only were you jet lagged but you were also really nervous which affected the amount of sleep you were getting.
Now, more than three years since your first camp, you’ve got your place pretty locked in (even if you don’t start every game) and some of your friends from the youth teams are here too.
You had previously thought it would be fun. Yet, you find yourself rethinking that considering you’re currently being harassed by Ashley Sanchez and Sophia Smith before you’ve even finished your coffee.
The source of the teasing is your phone which has chimed with a new text every 45 seconds since you’ve placed it on the table.
“Sophia, can you believe that Y/N/N just abandoned us to go play in Spain and now she’s too cool to even talk to us at breakfast,” Ashley asks in a tone that you are more than familiar with, it’s overly dramatic and you smile a little hearing it.
“It’s crazy,” Sophia agrees. “Our little nerd is all grown up. Seems like just yesterday we were in France trying to get her to show off her language skills for the locals.”
“They grow up so fast,” Jaelin pretends to weep as she joins the three of you at the table.
Sighing deeply, you shake your head at them and reach for your phone only to end up glaring at Ashley when she snatches it away.
“Sanchez,” you say warningly, “It’s too early for this.”
“It’s too early for your phone to be blowing up like you’re the plug,” she responds before looking over her shoulder. “Naomi,” she shouts, “hurry up, we’re going through Y/N’s phone.”
“No, we’re not,” you say.
“Yea, we are,” Sophia and Jaelin say in perfect unison.
Sighing once more, you sit back and let it happen, focusing back on your breakfast.
It’s hard though because you’re practically forced to listen to their running commentary on the contents of your phone.
“All of her texts are in Spanish.”
“Makes sense, they’re all to her Barcelona teammates.”
“Nah, she texted us and Press too, those are in English.”
“And this one is from ‘Red Heart Emoji’ aka long-term secret girlfriend, but that’s in Spanish too.”
“It can’t be a secret if you four know about her,” you say not looking up.
“And yet, we know nothing about her except that she has brown hair and for some odd reason is attracted to you,” Naomi says, “Super cute, secret contact photo though.”
“Woah,” you say, slightly offended when the others chuckle. “I’m a fucking catch.”
“I’m sure mystery girlfriend thinks that,” Sophia starts, “But we’ve known you since you were 13 so we know better.”
“I should’ve found better friends when I had a chance.”
“You’d never get rid of us Y/N/N,” Jae says, “Here’s your phone back.”
Just as you reach for it another hand reaches out and grabs it.
You follow the hand until you see the face of the person it belongs to, and you can only shake your head when you see Kelley.
“Sup Baby Genius,” she says, “What’s this I’m hearing about a secret girlfriend?”
Standing up, you roll your eyes before taking your phone back from the veteran player and walking away.
“We’re not having this conversation,” you say, “See you at practice.”
“We will eventually Y/N,” Kelley shouts after you.
“No we won’t you,” you respond, making your way out of the room.
By the time practice comes around that afternoon, your love life has become a popular topic of conversation.
And much to your chagrin, it doesn’t seem like the other women plan on letting up anytime soon, every free moment sees you peppered with questions.
Luckily, or unluckily rather, your friends are more than willing to answer any that they can.
Their answers aren’t very satisfying considering they don’t actually know that much but it does get the others off your back for a bit.
The one question you do answer yourself though is because you’re slightly offended when you hear it.
“Do Christen and Tobin know,” someone asks.
And it hurts your feelings. The idea that you wouldn’t tell something this important to the two women who have become almost like surrogate parents to you.
“Of course they do,” you respond, “And before anyone asks, Mal does too, why do you think she isn’t asking questions?”
After that, the team mostly gives up on trying to get you to tell them who your girlfriend is.
Even Kelley leaves it alone although she does still make a show of moaning and groaning whenever she sees Sanchez and Sophia, upset once again that they didn’t tell her something.
But even that is nothing more than her usual playful whining which is great because it means that you can go back to focusing on how you're supposed to play against your girlfriend and club teammates at the end of the week.
You’ve played against them once before but that was years ago and you were only on the field for maybe three minutes.
Now though, you’re more experienced and Vlatko has already all but told you to expect to play the full 90.
This is why you’re not surprised when he asks you to share what you know about the Spaniards in the final meeting on MD-1.
“Well,” you say, looking at how the coaches think your opposition will lineup, “The most important thing is that they play a pretty positionless style, so don’t be surprised if you’re not marking who the lineup says you will be, hell, don’t be surprised if Mapi pops up as the CAM. And I know you think that stopping Alexia is paramount but Patri and Aitana can dribble around or through you with just as much skill if not more.”
“Thank you, Y/L/N is there anything else you care to tell us,” Coach asks.
“Athenea is fucking annoying,” you say plainly, much to the amusement of your teammates.
Vlatko, on the other hand, just rolls his eyes and continues with the meeting.
When it’s done and you’ve been released, you do your best to leave the room quickly but without drawing any attention to yourself.
It doesn’t work though because you’re stopped by the head trainer Mary.
“How are you feeling,” she asks.
“Good.”
“Jetlag gone? Sleeping well?”
“Yup, I’m ready to go,” you tell her, bouncing on your toes.
“Alright,” she says with a smile, “I’m done bothering you, go call your girlfriend.”
That stops you in your tracks and leaves you staring at the trainer with your mouth open and eyes wide.
“How did you know that,” you manage to stutter out.
“Well, one, this team can’t speak softly to save its life, and two,” she says, “I was 21 once too. Now go on.”
Shooting the trainer, you smile and rush off.
The next day, your pre-match routine goes off without a hitch. Morning meditation, headphones, and a vow of silence, sees you in the best possible headspace for the match.
You’ve done everything you possibly could to prepare for this but still, as you stand in the tunnel across from your club teammates, you can’t help but to feel slightly off.
It doesn’t matter though because before you know it, you’re in your spot on the field and the first whistle is blown.
You don’t touch the ball much in the first 15 minutes but in the 16th a quickly played pass from Sully sees you breaking down the wing with the ball at your feet.
It’s easy enough to get going at what is nearly full speed for you, your opponents not having expected you to take off rather than completing the give-and-go with Andy.
One of the people you get past is Athenea and you can’t help but toss an ‘adios’ over your shoulder on your way.
It’s a great run if you do say so yourself, but as you go to make the final cross into the box, you find it blocked by someone you are very familiar with.
You let out a curse as you trudge to take your place for the resulting corner but you can’t help but smile slightly as you see your girlfriend smirking at you.
No goal comes from the corner and the game continues.
Your next major involvement doesn’t come until the 25th minute and it’s because Patri tries to send a long ball over the top to get Athenea in behind. You manage to get the first touch to it, bringing it down softly. You even get a pass off sending it up to Sully but less than a second later, you’re laying on the pitch clutching your foot as the result of a late challenge from Athenea
It hurts really fucking bad but what it does more than that anything is piss you off. So you just get up and shake your head at her,
You know what face you’re making and your teammates on both sides of the ball know what it means: Athenea is going to be in for a long day.
For the rest of the half, you do your best to make her life a living hell, putting a little more force into your tackles and being slightly more annoying with your trash talk. And the ref, well she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because you manage to keep it clean even if you are toeing the line.
Vlatko definitely notices though and at halftime, you get a very stern talking to about your aggression and making slightly better choices since some of your tackles put the ball right at Spanish feet.
You only sort of listen to him.
Your battle against Athenea continues into the second half but it’s not the only thing you have to deal with.
Part of Vlatko’s halftime talk included him wanting you to get forward more, putting the team in a 3-4-3 while attacking but keeping your standard 4-3-3 when you get back on defense.
This meant that you were doing a lot more running and that you had a lot more encounters with Spain’s right back, Batlle, in your attacking half.
It’s a lot of back and forth, especially with the game remaining scoreless. And the two of you can’t help but trade a few verbal barbs as well.
She tries and fails to body block you off the ball and you make a quip about how that might work against the WSL players but not you.
You over-hit a cross and she asks which of your veteran teammates taught you that.
In the 69th minute, when both teams go to make substitutions, you mouth the words ‘game over’ to her when you see that Sophia is coming on. She just shakes her head and points back to the sideline where you see Pina and Lucia Garcia standing by the 4th official.
Those subs do mean the end of your battle against Athenea but you don’t actually care about that since you’ll have plenty of time to annoy her during the next Clasico match.
The subs do have the desired effect though because, in the 79th minute, you manage to send in a through ball that finds Sophia’s feet before it hits the back of the net.
Unfortunately, the lead doesn’t last long because, in the 84th minute, Batlle gets an assist of her own by cutting the ball back to Aitana who rockets it past Naeher.
And the game ends that way, a 1-1 draw.
Immediately after the final whistle, you find yourself shaking hands and being pulled into hugs by your Barcelona teammates.
There are a couple of jokes cracked and Mapi repeatedly asks what you kept saying to Athenea to piss her off but you refuse to tell her. Both Pina and Patri ask for your jersey but you tell them it’s already been promised to someone else. They ask who and you don’t tell them.
20 minutes later, you’re leaning against a wall somewhere in the depths of the stadium holding said jersey in your hand and waiting for someone.
You don’t wait for long, no more than five minutes before someone launches into you like a heat-seeking missile.
“Long time no see, Onita,” you greet, looking down at your girlfriend who has already buried her face in your shoulder.
Her response is grumbled into your shoulder and since you can’t really understand it so you just chuckle softly and hold her tighter.
The two of you stand there for a while holding each other and engaging in soft conversation. Nothing important is said, it’s just the two of you enjoying a quiet moment.
It lasts a while but not nearly long enough because suddenly there are voices coming towards you from both sides of the hallway.
From the left, a loud American you instantly recognize as Sanchez is trying to convince someone to make a bet with her about what you're doing. And from the right, another group, you vaguely recognize one voice as Leila, shouting in a mixture of Catalan and Spanish. That group is too hectic for you to make out what’s being said.
“Time’s up,” she whispers to you, trying to take a step back but failing when you don’t let her go.
“It’s fine,” you tell her, “Although Leila might give you the kicked-puppy look for a couple of weeks.”
A few seconds later, both groups stand in front of you with various looks of shock on their faces.
From the US, it’s exactly who you thought it would be, Sanchez, Sophia, and Mal, who barely waits half a second before pulling out her phone and texting who you assume to be Christen and Tobin. The Spanish search party consists of Leila (obviously), Pina, and Patri, who bursts out laughing like this is the funniest thing she’s ever seen.
A moment passes…
And then an explosion of noise as they all begin to speak at once, the languages mixing and overlapping in a way that’s impossible to follow.
Taking a deep breath, you separate yourself from Ona, giving her a quick kiss and passing her your jersey. Once no longer intertwined, you take a step forward, hold a finger up to your lips, and wait for the group to quiet down before speaking.
“I will be taking no further questions. Thank you,” you say once they do, immediately turning on your heel and walking away.
There’s another explosion of noise as everyone protests that and just underneath it, you can hear Ona laugh before she calls your name which makes you stop and turn back to her.
“Y/N/N, aquí, toma esto,” she says, tossing you her Spain jersey.
Catching it, you smile at her before turning back around and continuing to walk away.
You get maybe 15 steps away before you hear what sounds like a herd of bulls coming up behind you as your teammates catch up.
“Kelley is going to be so mad that we know who your secret girlfriend is and she doesn’t,” Sophia says, falling into step with you.
“It’s going to be great,” Sanchez grins.
“Just do me a favor and wait until I’m back in Spain to tell her that you know,” you respond, “I can’t deal with that backlash in person.”
“What do I get in return?”
You take a moment to think about it before answering, “A favor in return, no questions asked.”
“Deal.”
“Y/N,” Mal shakes her head at you, “You just made a deal with the devil.”
“Too late now.”
#uswnt imagine#uswnt x reader#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#muwfc x reader#muwfc imagine#espwnt imagine#espwnt x reader
937 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sleepy Baby Part 3
a/n: Well now there is a Part 3.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 800 ish
Summary: We find out the real reason Jake is called Hangman.
Previous Masterlist Next
“There is something wrong with your phone number.” Jake was staring intently at the sheet of paper. All the lines for your number were still blank and the baby’s crib was almost drawn.
“My number is perfect, and it only has three different digits,” you reply.
Jake counted his guesses. “That doesn’t make any sense, I’ve guessed 8 numbers already!”
“Yeah but you guessed five twice.” You pointed to where you'd written the number down twice. “I wasn’t going to mention it.” Jake groaned and rubbed his face. You couldn’t help grinning at the pink that was spreading on his cheeks. “Is this performance anxiety because you are not playing Hangman?”
“No… maybe?” He sat up and looked back at the numbers. “I was guessing local area code numbers.” He explained. “You, Kisses, are not from around here.”
“Oooh, solid strategy.” You were impressed he had a strategy. You would have just guessed the numbers 0-9 in order. “It would have worked too if I didn’t move here six months ago.”
Jake quickly guesses the final three numbers and you fill them into the blank spaces. As soon as you had written the last number down he gently slid the paper out from under your hand. He took a picture on his phone of the paper and then entered your number into his contacts.
“You still don’t know my name,” you laugh at his eagerness. “What are you going to put as the contact?”
“Hugs and Kisses,” he shows you the contact where XOXOXO is written instead of your name. Your phone dings when he sends you a text. “Can I be Baby in your phone?”
“Sleepy Baby.” You say firmly. You add his contact and send him a sleeping and a baby emoji.
“Ready for my name?” you say pulling the paper back to you. “Are you going to go for the standard guess the vowels strategy or start guessing letters in common names from my age range, like Jessica, or Ashley?”
“J.” He says immediately. You add it to the wrong letters bank and add a bar to the crib. “I thought you were giving me a hint!” His outraged face makes you roll your eyes.
“I’m not going to give you hints,” you tell him. “But this baby will have ten fingers and ten toes before you leave if it has too.”
“This would go way faster if you gave me hints,” he is pouting and you find it adorable.
“I like to watch you struggle,” you tell him. “Next letter.”
“Z.”
“It’s like you don’t want to know my name.”
…
Five minutes later you hear him say your name for the first time. You can't help the way your stomach flips and your heart beats faster at the sound of your name on his lips. “Hi Jake.” You reply and you can feel yourself blushing.
He had finally managed to uncover your name but the baby had ten fingers and two toes. “Do you actually let your niece win or are you just bad at hangman?” You ask him.
“Both.” He replies honestly. “Whenever I do figure it out I deliberately guess the wrong letters.”
“If you are so bad at hangman, why is that your name?”
“It’s a Navy thing.” he shrugs. “Call signs are meant to keep you humble.”
“Clearly it didn't work for you,” you raise your eyebrows at him and he just winks in response.
There is a knock on the door and Eillen, your coworker, peeks in. “Your 3:00 Art Group starts in ten minutes.”
“Shit, I have to get the paint out!” you jump to your feet. Jake immediately offers to help and you lead him to the activity room and instruct him how you want the tempera paint poured into the trays. You get the brushes, water cups and paper out for the activity you had planned.
When everything is set up you gently push Jake toward the door with your hand on his chest. “Thanks for helping me set up but you have to go before the kids get here.”
“I’m glad I found you.” His voice is soft and he is staring into your eyes the way he did the first night you met him.
“Me too.” you duck your head and smile before looking back up.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” Excitement is shining in his green eyes.
“I could be persuaded.” He gives you his full smile and brings the hand that you have against his chest to his lips. He presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles and the butterflies are back.
“I'll call you tomorrow.” He promises as he walks away, pumping his fists in the air when he leaves the library.
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin/reader#jake seresin x reader#topgun maverick#top gun hangman#hangman/reader#hangman top gun#hangman#jake seresin x you#topgun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rewrite the Stars
Summary: Austin is feeling homesick while filming Elvis and gets one hell of a birthday surprise!
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 3.6K (I swear this was meant to be a quick drabble, and yet here I am finishing this at almost five in the morning...oops?)
Warnings: Lots of pining from our boi here
Author's Note: This was written for @foreverdolly. I hope this fills the pining!Austin feels you were hoping for! Perhaps if this gets enough likes (and if school and work permits me), I’ll write a part two! A couple of minor details- I headcanoned Austin here as more of a serial dater rather than anything involving Vanessa. It felt more suitable, given the pining angle I’m going for. Also, I wrote this like COVID never happened because that is a reality I’m sure we’d all love to live in right now. Enjoy!
Austin knew that filming Elvis would be hard. One doesn’t go into a project about a beloved figure of American pop culture thinking it will be a walk in the park. Hell, the months-long audition process made that abundantly clear. But the most challenging part wasn’t the months and months of vocal training, singing lessons, costume fitting, or reading every possible book and watching every video about Elvis Aaron Presley he could get his hands on.
It was being away from his friends and family.
It was just him alone in an apartment halfway across the globe from the place and people he called home. It didn’t matter how many FaceTime calls he made with his sister Ashley or his childhood best friend Y/N or how many care packages they sent filled with his favorite snacks. Eventually, the calls ended, and the snacks were eaten.
His birthday was around the corner, although he was surprised he even registered that it was close. He texted Y/N to see if maybe you would be able to fly down for a quick visit. He even offered to pay for your plane ticket and introduce her to Baz, one of your favorite directors. That morning while he was in hair and makeup, you texted back, “Get me a spot on the soundtrack, and you got a deal!”
He snorted at the reference to the joke you made when he told you that he got the part…after screaming and crying out of excitement and happiness for him. You were the first person he wanted to tell when he got the news. You had been the one that encouraged him to go for the part in the first place. It had become a tradition between the two of you. Celebrating each other’s big moments. He remembered the day you told him about your record deal. He always believed you had the talent to follow your dreams. Growing up, you always wrote poetry and bits of songs, and the two of you constantly played guitar and piano in your room. It was one of the few spaces he felt comfortable enough to be himself. You never got frustrated with his shyness or anxiety, even agreeing to play in the dark to make him feel more comfortable. When you won your first Grammy, he was in the crowd, clapping until his hands ached.
Your subsequent text made his heart sink. “In all seriousness, I wish I could be there for your b-day. (Don’t think I forgot!) But I’m in the middle of recording my next album and my producer is a workhorse. I’m so sorry, Aus.”
“It’s okay,” he texted back. “It’s just 29. Should be done with filming before I turn 30 and we can do that one big!”
You sent back thumbs-up and blue heart emojis, and he tucked his phone into his pocket. There was a small lump in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was cry over something so dumb. Because it was dumb! People didn’t stop living their lives back home just because he was in Australia. Jobs had to be done, bills had to be paid, and his feeling homesick like a little kid didn’t change that. His sister had sent back a similar response when he asked if she could come for a visit. He told her he understood and to not worry about him.
“Are you all right, Austin?”
He opened his eyes to his makeup artist Trisha looking at him in the mirror. She had a gift for reading his moods. Sometimes, he wished she wasn’t so accurate. He shrugged and mumbled, “Just got a disappointing text from home.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said. She stayed silent for a moment, brushing more bronzer onto his face. “Want to talk about it?”
The lump in his throat hurt to talk around. “Not really.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day before his birthday, Baz picked Austin up at his apartment. He had a coffee waiting and was listening to the usual Elvis Presley playlist. He had long stopped being surprised by the Australian director’s eccentric nature. What surprised him was Baz didn’t drive them directly to set. Austin looked at the older man and asked, “Where we goin’?”
Baz just shrugged as he flipped on the turn signal. “The airport.”
This confused Austin. He tried to mask this by joking, “Is this your way of telling me I’m fired?”
That prompted a laugh out of Baz. “Nothing of the sort. I’m just picking up a friend. Flying them in for a special cameo for the film. I thought you’d like to tag along.”
“I’m not needed on set?”
“That is the beauty of being the director,” Baz replied with a grin. “I determine where you’re needed.”
Austin picked up the coffee Baz bought him and took a sip. “That’s not ominous at all, Mr. Luhrman.”
The two of you spent the rest of the drive discussing work. What Baz had planned, any concerns Austin may have, and what could be done to fix them. He loved working with Baz. He was unlike any director Austin had worked with previously. The man had a vision but never let that stop him from treating his cast and crew respectfully. Austin’s time in Hollywood had shown him what a rare quality that was in a director.
Before they knew it, they had arrived at the Brisbane airport. Baz had been tight-lipped about who exactly they were coming to get. He was happy he took care of getting dressed this morning. The weather flipped down in the Southern Hemisphere, so he woke up to a cold snap that morning. He put on a navy cashmere sweater Ashley bought him before he left. The closer his birthday got, the more intense his homesickness felt.
Baz parked the car, and the two of them headed inside. They were stopped a couple of times by fans eager for a selfie or an autograph. Austin watched as a young woman told Baz how she was inspired by his work to go to film school. He gave her some words of wisdom and agreed to take a photo with her. It was touching to witness and a lesson on how to talk with fans. Finally, they arrived at the area where people waited for arrivals. Austin turned and asked, “Gonna let me in on who we’re meeting?”
Baz looked up from his phone and simply gestured in the distance. Austin turned to where Baz was pointing and thought his heart would stop. It was Ashley and Y/N! They were here in Australia! Austin turned back to Baz, who simply said, “Happy birthday, son.”
Austin wasted no time sprinting toward the two women. He pulled his big sister in for a hug first, squeezing her tight and saying through tears, “If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.”
He felt Ashley rub his back. “This is very real, little brother. And you have Baz and Y/N to thank for all this.”
He pulled away from his sister to see you standing there. Your eyes were glassy with tears even as you joked, “Well if you weren’t going to get me on the soundtrack, I figured I had to do it myself.”
Austin choked out a laugh and picked you up, spinning you around and squeezing you tight. His nickname for you growing up was Tink because of your tiny frame and fiery temper. When he finally set you down, he looked down at you as you explained, “Me and Ashley have been worried about you lately. You seemed really blue. So, I did the L.A. thing: I had my people reach out to Baz’s people and ask if we couldn’t arrange a surprise for your birthday.”
By this point, Baz had joined all three of you. He clapped Austin on the back and said, “I know that the Method is all the rage in Hollywood, but I don’t see sense in tormenting yourself needlessly. We can put production on pause for a little bit. Spend some time with these beautiful women who love you very much.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, the three of you decided to stay at Ausitn’s place and order takeout later that evening. You were slightly more experienced with jetlag, but Ashley required a late afternoon nap. That gave the two of you time to catch up. Austin asked how work on your new album was going and just let your voice live and in person wash over him. You wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair was in a messy bun on top of your head, and your face was covered with one of those Korean skincare masks you loved. But to Austin, plain or dressed for a red carpet, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He had always been a little in love with you. The timing never seemed to be on his side enough to make a move. As a teen, he was intimidated by your sudden rise to fame through MySpace. One day, you were posting songs you wrote, then suddenly, you had a record deal and were playing across the country. The last thing you needed was some awkward guy next to you whose biggest claim to fame was bit parts on iCarly and Hannah Montana.
As you both got older and started dating people, Austin figured maybe the two of you were meant to be just friends. He remembered watching a movie with that phrase as the title and the rant you went on after the movie ended.
“I swear to God,” you raged, “guys feel like just because they have feelings for a woman and treat her like a human being, that makes them entitled to sex with us! It’s disgusting! ‘Nice guys finish last’ is such misogynistic bullshit.”
You looked at him after finishing and squeezed his arm. “I’m so glad you’re not like that, Austin. You are rare among your gender.”
He never wanted to be that for you, either. He loved you as a person before he fell in love with you. The last thing he wanted was to be another creep trying to get into your pants. You had a long-term boyfriend, Trevor, who Austin could not stand. He was also a musician, and you met while on tour for your second album. It seemed like a match made in heaven. But Trevor had a nasty habit of comparing your careers, with his being more “legitimate” because he didn’t have to use the internet to become successful. It was a point he learned not to bring up around you or Austin unless he was ready for an argument to ensue.
“You know you’re going to have to introduce me to Tom Hanks,” you said, your eyes bright with excitement. “You know Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies of all time. God knows how often I’ve watched Toy Story, Sleepless in Seattle, or You’ve Got Mail. I practically grew up with Tom Hanks!”
Austin grinned. “Ah, and so the true motivation for this trip emerges.”
“Oh, you were just a great bonus,” you teased as you removed your mask and massaged the excess product into your skin. “I’m here to see Woody.”
Austin laughed. Your presence melted away all of the angst he had been feeling lately. His whole body felt relaxed and at ease for the first time in months. At this moment, he didn’t have to worry about being ready for the set or rehearsing the same sequence for hours on end. He could just be Austin.
He reached out to squeeze your hand. You smiled and squeezed his back. His voice cracked as he whispered, “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you replied.
You reached out to pull his head down and kissed his forehead. He couldn’t stop himself from encircling your wrist with his hand as you did. You pulled away slightly, and for a moment, you both breathed the same air. Your eyes connected. It could be so easy. He could just lean forward and do what he had been dreaming about for ages. He rubbed your inner wrist and found a racing pulse. You were so close. But…he wouldn’t do that to you. Austin knew how you felt about cheating, no matter how innocent the act was.
He was the first to break the moment. Clearing his throat, he pulled away and said, trying to force a laugh, “Don’t let Trevor hear you say that. How’s he doing, by the way? Still on tour?”
Something fell over your eyes at that moment. Before he could question it, you laughed harshly and said, “Yup, still touring. I think he’s still pissed because I told him I didn’t want his help on my next album. He’s been weird since I helped improve one of his singles by making it a duet. So now he’s needlessly looking for “improvements” in my work.”
Leave his sorry ass, Austin wanted to snap. You’re twice the songwriter he will ever be, and you deserve someone who recognizes true talent. The words were on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s just a rough patch?”
“Yeah, maybe,” you replied. “But…they seem to be coming more frequently here lately.”
Scrubbing your face, you jumped up and said, “Bleh, enough about Trevor. Let’s see if Ashley has recovered enough so we can order something to eat. I’m starving!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
People could never say that Baz Luhrmann was a subtle man. For Austin’s birthday the following evening, he rented a restaurant with an adjoining karaoke bar. This surprise party had been well-planned. Catherine even decorated the space and ensured the manager secured any recording devices from non-guests. When the trio arrived, Austin hugged Baz and Catherine and thanked them for such kindness and generosity. Ashley wore a dusty rose off-the-shoulder dress with an A-line skirt that looked gorgeous. You looked stunning in a black cocktail dress inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany’s, complete with an updo and tiara. When you finally emerged from Austin’s bedroom, he mumbled, “Hello, gorgeous.”
You winked and said, “Thanks, but wrong movie.”
There was the usual dinner and giving of gifts. Baz, Tom, and others gave speeches, praising Austin so much that by the end, he was a puddle of tears and emotion. At the end of the dinner, he couldn’t say more than, “Thank you for all over this. Making this movie and being here with all of you has been one of the best experiences of my life. I will carry it with me and treasure it always.”
Once the dinner concluded, the party moved to the karaoke bar. Baz and you, as Austin figured, got along like a house on fire. Both of you were music nerds and kept trying to outdo each other in karaoke performances. You won the night with a spirited rendition of Tina Turner’s Proud Mary that saw your heels kicked into the crowd, your updo wholly wrecked, and Olivia holding your tiara as she screamed and cheered. As you exited the stage, Baz stood and bowed, saying, “I know when I’m beaten. Now, what’s this about you wanting to be on the soundtrack?”
A few others took turns on the stage. Dacre, Luke, and Adam tried to sing together to Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl. Tom and Rita sang I Got You, Babe before bidding everyone good night. Olivia, Ashley, Catherine, and you giggled through Wannabe by the Spice Girls. After the song ended, Olivia, Ashley, and Catherine teetered their way back off stage, but you remained. Putting a hand on your hip, you said into the microphone, “Mr. Butler…you are the only one who has not sung this evening. It’s time we fixed that. Get your ass up here!”
Everyone began chanting Austin’s name until he shrugged off his jacket and tie and joined you on stage. You had a look on your face that seemed both nervous and excited. Ever the performer, you turned back to the crowd and said, “Now, D.J., before you start the song we spoke about earlier, I wanna tell everyone here a little story about Austin and me.”
“Oh Jesus,” Austin said loud enough that the mic picked him up.
“Hush you,” you smacked his shoulder. “Anywho, me and Austin have a favorite pastime back home of watching bad movies together. It’s kind of like Mystery Science Theater 3000, snarking comments and all. Well, one of our favorites to watch is The Greatest Showman.”
This prompted boos and shouts from the crowd, to which you replied, “I know, I know. The movie made over a billion, and Hugh Jackman is your national treasure.”
You paused to allow people to cheer for their man before continuing, “But as an American…the movie is ridiculous. P.T. Barnum was a dick who did not deserve the talents of Mr. Hugh Jackman! But that soundtrack fucking rules! There would be nights when Austin and I couldn’t sleep, and we would drive around L.A. screaming that soundtrack at the tops of our lungs!”
You finally turned back to Austin, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. You smiled at him as your voice softened. “So we’re going to sing you of those songs tonight. Apologies in advance to Zendaya and Zac. May you never see this.”
Oh, Jesus…it was that song. You motioned for him to come closer. The butterflies were now a hurricane. He was about to sing a love song in front of a crowd of people to the woman he wanted more than anything. What could possibly go wrong?
“You know I want you,” Austin began, his voice shaky with nerves. “It’s not a secret I try to hide. I know you want me. So don’t keep saying our hands tied.”
A few people cheered, sensing his nerves. He grinned, and as the verse progressed, he felt his confidence growing. The two of you had watched this movie so many times, you began doing a facsimile of the scene from the film on stage. You kept your eyes downcast, your body turned away from him, as if you were fighting against this as much as you wanted to give in. At last, you came together at the end of the chorus, Austin going so far as to put his hand around your waist and tuck your hair behind your ear as he sang, “So why don’t we rewrite the stars? Maybe the world could be ours tonight?”
You took the microphone from the stand and took a giant step back as the music continued. Austin could hear his heart pounding in his ears. The look in your eyes reminded him of the look from yesterday. You lifted the microphone and sang, “You think it’s easy? You think I don’t want to run to you? But there are mountains and there are doors that we can’t walk through.”
You began walking along the edge of the stage and gesturing to the crowd as you continued to sing. Austin followed you as he felt the desperation behind the song's words for the first time. As you sang the chorus to the audience, he led you back to the center of the stage. And what’s more, you let yourself be guided back. You placed the microphone as the chorus ended, and you both began belting the bridge.
“All I want is to fly with you! All I want is to fall with you! So just give me all of you…”
There seemed to be something in your voice as you sang of this being impossible. Was he making this up? Was it just the two of you committing to the bit, as it were? The edges started to blur for Austin. Were they blurring for you too?
“You know I want you,” you sang finally, your voice just as shaky as he was at the song's beginning. “It’s not a secret I try to hide. But I can’t have you. We’re bound to fate, and my hands are tied.”
Both of you were startled when everyone began cheering. In those brief moments, they seemed to fade into the background. Before Austin even had time to process what the hell happened, you said into the microphone, “And that’s enough from me. Austin, thank you for humoring me. Maybe we can get him to sing an Elvis song next?”
He was shell-shocked as you hurried off stage to rejoin Ashley and Olivia. He wanted to follow you. He wanted to take you somewhere quiet and private and ask a million questions. What did you mean by that song choice? Were you trying to tell him something? But before he could even think of what to do first, he heard the all-too-familiar chords of Jailhouse Rock blast from the speakers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few days after you and Ashley returned to L.A., he got an email from his big sister. She had recorded your performance of Rewrite the Stars that night. The only text in the email stated, “If this is anything to go off of, I think you can, baby brother. Don’t waste this moment.”
Author’s Note: So…do we need a part two? Let me know down below! Likes, comments, and reblogs are cherished and adored.
120 notes
·
View notes
Note
Listen, I had a good idea can u do a blurb or whatever where in twitter and Tiktok and shit people are saying reader is just like the Walmart version of Vanessa and when you go to the bathroom you leave your phone unlocked and Austin happens to notice it. (This is long asf well oops)
you know what anon? i totally can. but also may i just say that from a personal perspective my rather plain ass is like well shit i might actually take being called the walmart version of vanessa. or as i also include in this fic, a dollar store version of vanessa.
tw: self-doubt, classism? idk this is pretty tame.
you know i love you, so don't you pay 'em no mind. - austin butler
you know better than to look at instagram comments nowadays. it was fine before you started dating austin, albeit maybe the few problem comments but since you started dating what was supposed to be the most eligible bachelor post-vaustin break up? your comments had turned into a war zone. still, you couldn't pass up posting the picture of you and austin in your costumes for halloween because you were proud of them. proud of how you both looked in the outfits. had it taken some convincing on your part to have him dress up as the gomez to your morticia? yes, but he knew that's what you had your heart set on and- he was never one to deny you if you wanted something that bad. even if he had a few misgivings about being gomez.
you found yourself at a party the night before and after being sent the pics from everyone you decided to post them and forget about it until the next afternoon. that had perhaps been your mistake because you know better than to leave your comments alone for that period of time. but you also wanted to enjoy spending the day with your boyfriend because since elvis it was so rare that you two had a fairly large chunk of uninterrupted time together.
austin's in the kitchen making- well he says it's a surprise, but you smell and hear him popping the kernels but you'll let him pretend you have no idea about the popcorn he's popping for the movie you plan on watching. you allow yourself to open your phone instead of just staring at the menu screen for the film and in hindsight you really shouldn't have. the first thing you see when you open up instagram is all the comments there's one from ashley that's just a heart eyes emoji and a fire emoji and several from your friends of just straight fire and one from vanessa and olivia just with a simple chef's kiss. you see some more support so you scroll down and that's where the problem starts.
don't they know that halloween was vanessa and austin's thing? seriously, this is embarrassing. it's like walmart brand vaustin.
lol no it's dollar store vanessa and her prada austin just slumming it.
fits when she's a thrift store vanessa.
you keep scrolling, thinking it'll get better only to see more and more comments comparing your picture to vanessa and austin. comparing you to vanessa and several saying that austin should have never gotten together with you.
you've- you've gotten used to these comments by now, you have because there wasn't an option to not be used to these comments. they're going to be there whether or not austin and you address them. it's- you've learned to live with them as far as you know. except today they sting, maybe it's the fact that were so excited to share the costumes and you have austin here with you for once to hold and to kiss for the whole day with no interruptions except apparently these stupid comments.
austin will know if you start crying, he'll hear your sniffle and he'll come rushing, forgetting about popcorn he's working on so diligently for you you and you can't have that. your eyes are already starting to blur with the unshed tears and you take a breath before you get up and start heading to the bathroom. "heading to the bathroom, baby, i'll be right back." you quickly say as you make your escape to the bedroom and then the bathroom.
if austin immediately notices, he doesn't say anything and he doesn't follow you into the bathroom like he would if he knew what was going on. you let yourself cry in the comfort of the bathroom, sinking to the floor and curling in on yourself. you feel a little like a young teenage girl, trying to hide away from things but right now with those comments swirling around like an expert witch's potion designed to hurt you? you can't help it.
you're not sure how much time passes before you hear austin on the other end of the door.
"baby. i'm coming in." he says, pushing open the door and leaving you no room to debate with him. he looks toward the toilet thinking he's going to see you there only to find you on the floor your eyes bloodshot puffy while your nose is just dripping snot. you've been crying this whole time and he hadn't checked on you until he saw the comments open on your phone. he holds it up and shakes it in his hand. "you forgot this."
your eyes widen and you can't help how you immediately start to bite your lower lip partially out of comfort, partially out of embarrassment and partially because you're not one hundred percent sure you're not going to start crying again if you don't have something else to focus on. "tell me you didn't-"
"see your instagram? and the comments? i did." he answers simply before getting down on the floor next to you and opening his arms for you to burrow into his embrace. "you know- vanessa liked the post, loved the post and you looked gorgeous babe. you're not-"
"a thrift store vanessa? standing next to her prada austin?" you spit out as you curl into his arms. "we're just a walmart-"
"stop." he shakes his head. "first, i'm going to remind you that using those terms as an insult against anything i'm involved in a joke since i had to shop at all three. second, sweetheart- i love you and if anything i'm the thrift shop boy standing next to his gucci girl."
you sniffle and burrow your face in his chest. "you're not."
"but you are?" he counters, shifting just enough that he can get his hand underneath your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "you're the trash everyone thinks?"
the answer is on the tip of your tongue. it's a quick no, because you're not trash, you haven't truly and honestly thought that since you were younger but you falter and are struck by the fact that maybe you're thinking you are after reading all those comments. instead you settle for what you think is the truth in this precise moment. "maybe?"
austin's eyes narrow and he nuzzles at your nose before giving you a soft kiss on the lips. he pulls away for a brief second to study you and shakes his head before placing another kiss on both of your cheeks and then your nose and your forehead before a final one on your lips again. "no."
"it just hurts, austin. i want to share you and our relationship with the world-" you're cut off by another kiss and austin putting his finger on your lips.
"and what's stopping you? you know i'm not a big social media guy, used to do it for 'nessa but you don't mind if i'm not. i don't mind you posting us, i'd post something once in a while if you want but they comments are gonna be there." he sighs and cups your cheek. "the question you've got to ask yourself is do you want to show us off or do you want to hide because of people deciding you're my rebound and that i'll ride into the sunset with vanessa. when trust me-"
"you won't. i remember." the story of their break up, you mean. "you're- i don't want to hide. i want to be open about this, i love you and i-"
you stop yourself, because you two hadn't even been dating a year so saying that you've thought about him marrying you feels like a bit much. austin peers at you and raises an eyebrow. "and you what?"
you feel the heat of your cheeks and feel your embarrassment rush to the surface. your answer comes out as a muffled whisper. "i wouldn't mind riding off into the sunset with you."
the chuckle that comes out of austin is quiet but you feel the vibrations in his chest when he does it. it's- calming in a way nothing else had been since he sat down. you feel your brain's constant swirl of thoughts calm into a simple pool of water. a hum leaves your mouth unbidden before austin moves a hand to pet your hair. "i wouldn't mind doing that either. but, before then, i have some popcorn and a movie with our name on it wanna come join me or is everyone else going to win?"
you pull away and just give austin a look before blinking slowly. "carry me to the couch and i suppose i can let everyone else lose."
he smiles ever so slightly as he stands up and without giving you a single bit of warning picks you up bridal style as you let out what he will swear is a squeal and what you will say was a startled shout. you're still making the noise until he plops you onto the couch and flops right next to you with a flurry of kisses.
and if later on that night after you were sleeping austin posted a photo of you curled up in your shared bed looking like an angel? well, that was his business. especially when the caption was simply:
y/n, my sleeping beauty, there's no one else i'd rather ride into the sunset with. love you, baby.
#ally's 500 follower gala#basically anything that slides into my inbox this week has gotten this tag. so oops.#since this might have just been a regular request.#apologies anon.#austin butler x reader#austin butler fluff#austin butler angst#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x you#ally writes
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
Live Stream
Pairing: Collin Hoskins x OFC Black!Reader (Shauna Lewis)
Rating: 18+ M for language, implied smut, praise kink (very slight, if you blink you might miss it)
Summary: Shauna is live streaming her makeup routine when Collin makes an appearance.
Requested: No, just a quick Drabble. I missed my favorite Pairing especially since I’ve been looking at Season 2 of Blindspotting.
Word Count: 688
“Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the love! Keep sending in what look y’all want to see next. This was requested by one of my followers, they want a soft glam date night look. Which is perfect because my man is taking me out tonight.” Shauna smiled
Shauna started doing live streams and tutorials during the Lockdown when she couldn’t do hair. She quickly gained a decent following from her clients and then when she did the don’t rush challenge by herself she went viral. Her video gained almost a million views and was shared all over social media. Now that the pandemic is over, she still posts videos but now they’re of her doing her clients' hair or makeup. Occasionally she’ll live stream either herself or she has a client in her chair. For the most part, when she’s live streaming she’s by herself showing a makeup look, hairstyle, and most recently an outfit.
“So I’m gonna do my makeup, my hair is already done, I installed this wig yesterday and I will be posting that video on my YouTube—will I ever stream on YouTube? Probably not, I like using TikTok to stream. Who does your lashes? Me, girl! If you in Oakland come get lased by ya girl Shauna. Alright, let’s get started on these brows. Remember your eyebrows are cousins, not twins.”
Collin walked into your shared apartment after having dropped Zan off with Ashley and Sean. He has been planning this date night for months but either he had to work late, Shauna has a client, or nobody could watch Zan. Not that Collin and Shauna didn’t mind going out with Zan but sometimes they wanted to spend time together as a couple. He saw the bedroom door open which usually meant Shauna was recording content to post later on. Collin typically didn’t bother you when you were recording mainly when you were streaming, but if you were just recording a routine, Collin would at least say hi, knowing that you could edit it out.
“Alright, so here is the final look, like I said you don’t have to wear this exact outfit but this is the perfect date night look. I got this dress from Cider, the shoes, purse, and jewelry from Amazon. Don’t break ya wallet ladies, it’s not that serious. Oh, hey babe!” Shauna smiled seeing Collin standing in the doorway.
“Hey, baby.” Collin entered the room and kissed you gently, being sure not to mess up your makeup.
“How was your day?”
“Good, I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, get changed, and we can head out. You gonna be done by then?”
“Yeah, I’m almost done. I’m not gonna post until tomorrow.” Shauna blushed at the way Collin was looking at her. Well, he didn’t have to do much to make her blush in the first place.
“I love your make up Shauna, it looks really good. I know you put a lot of time and effort into it.” Shauna smiled bashfully at the praise
“Thank you, Collin.” Then Shauna saw a familiar glint in his eyes. Before she could stop him, Collin wrapped his hand around Shauna’s neck causing her to crane her head up at him.
“I can’t wait to mess it up later,” He said huskily Shauna went wide-eyed
“Collin! I’m recording,”
“You can edit it out,” He replied grabbing Shauna by her waist and pulling her closer
“It’s live!” She stressed
“Huh?”
“I’m live right now!” Not believing her, Collin got closer, and sure enough almost 2,000 people saw and heard the whole exchange. Many people in the comments were sending laugh emojis or commenting on how cute the two of them are.
“Oh shit,” He mumbled Shauna started to playfully nudge Collin out of the bedroom. “What up y’all.”
“You about to get me shadowbanned! Go get ready.” Shauna closed the bedroom door and went back to her stream
“Alright, everyone, here’s the look I’ll post pictures on my Instagram. As you’ve seen and heard, I got some things to do. See y’all later! Bye!”
sshhauna.lewis has ended the Live Stream
Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @blackpinup22 @iknowthekoolaidflavor @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @daveeds-wife @chattykathysquietsister @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @endless-romantic-stories @chrisevanswife0405 @gothic-slasherfan-weeb @pinkbonnetandglasses @cocobutterbaby @moxleys-fav @aonungmyaddiction
#elocinnicole#Blindspotting#Blindspotting Starz#Collin Hoskins#Collin Hoskins x Black!Reader#Collin Hoskins x Black Reader#Collin Hoskins x OFC Black!Reader#Collin Hoskins x Reader#Blindspotting Fic#Shauna Lewis#Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader#Daveed Diggs x Reader#Daveed Diggs
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
thank you for your service i love this new game you have made. 4, 7, 11?
yahoo
4. (Personal headcanon / interpretation of characters, in any sense)
tbh i just forget things like this whenever prompted but i think some of them i have are:
penny's eyes are naturally brown and turned blue in some sort of failed experiment inbetween G&W and Gold
ashley's sleep schedule is pretty unstable and sometimes red will wake up at like 7am to find out she's been awake for 3-4 hours
ace ashley (projection)
pretending like the age timeloop isnt real i think 9volt would realize he's aroace later on (double projection)
kat and ana were the first ones to officially test the touchscreen microgames as an accessibility test of sorts
after joining warioware inc, lulu learns a bit about cameras from 5volt
something something dribble and wario billiards night
7. (Are you open to Ware characters showing up in other spinoffs?)
truthfully i actually dont play most mario spinoffs that often but i dont see why not!
i think a rep in mario kart might get confined to one of the GP games but i'll take it anyways. dribble, spitz or mona are obvious picks but it could really be anyone (you know how mario kart rosters are)
cricket wouldve worked well in battle league i think
fronk in paper mario. i dont care what he's there for
i dont have other ideas beyond these points shrug emoji
11. (Mega Party Game$! main?)
the 9-volt sweep is so real. im not really consistent beyond that point but dribble and wario are in there too sometimes (?)
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Watcher 2
Walter Marshal x Reader
He’s home very late that night. You’re lightly dozing in bed, unable to sleep without him. You hear him reset the alarm and take his heavy shoes off by the door. You sit up to greet him, turning on the lamp on your side table as he walks into the bedroom, rubbing your bleary eyes gently.
“Hi, baby,” he murmurs to you from the closet as he removes his clothes. You smile softly at him and pull back the blankets on his side of the bed so he can climb in. He wraps his big arms around you as you rest your head on his bare chest, sighing at the feeling of his warm body against yours as you tangle your legs together.
“Any leads?” You hum softly as he rubs at your shoulder, winding down from his day.
“No,” he replies sullenly. “We’re hoping it was just a crime of passion, but something about it isn’t right.” You nod in understanding before sitting up just enough to kiss him soundly on the lips. He accepts immediately, holding you to him with a big hand on the back of your head. You’re happy to say that even after years together, you and Walt are still in the honeymoon phase.
“You’ll catch ‘em. You always do.” You lean over and turn off the light, sending the room back into darkness as you dive back into his arms.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The next day finds you answering emails in your office at the art museum that you work at. You wish you could be out on the floor showing people around, but such is the life of a manager.
You’re just planning on a break when your assistant Ashley knocks on the door of your office.
You smile brightly at her before giving her a confused look at the mischievous grin on her face. She’s holding her hands behind her back and you know this has a 50/50 chance of being bad news.
“We just got a delivery from a certain someone…” she trails off, building up the anticipation before finally showing you what she snuck in. It’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers, complete with a cute pot painted your favorite color. You gasp when you see it and she smiles even wider. “There’s a note with them.”
She hands you a small ivory notecard with beautiful black writing on it. The ink glints against the overhead lights as you read the words, ‘For you.’
“Honestly,” Ashley says, placing the flowers down on your desk with a flourish, “he needs to stop showing off. He’s giving every other guy in town a bad name.”
She swoons playfully and you act like you’re going to throw something at her. She laughs as she exits the room with a wink, and you pick up the vase and take a big sniff of the fragrant petals. They’re absolutely perfect.
You pull out your phone and take a quick selfie with your face half buried in the blooms. You normally try not to distract Walter at work but want to let him know you received his gift, deciding to shoot him a quick text.
‘Thank you for the flowers, handsome!’ with a heart emoji is all you write. Sweet and to the point, just like him, you think happily. You set your phone aside and get back to work, needing to get things taken care of for the upcoming art open house. Sometime later, your phone pings with a new message. You stretch your arms out in front of you, kicking your heels off beneath your desk. You grab the phone and smile when you see that it’s Walter who messaged you but it quickly turns to shock and confusion.
What flowers?
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
candela obscura chapter 1 episode 2: hey entire table what the fuck
still enjoying matt in shirtsleeves
still weird that his wrists are naked
are his sideburns going grey? like under the bulk of his hair
this is a scene that jumped into matt's head fully formed and he has to give all the details
source: been there
auggie!
that's my son!
vexnvax syndrome strikes again
going 'yum' just as charlotte's art pops up: correct
if there's one thing anjali's going to do it's play a hot lady in period clothing
"I've been smoking since I was eight" "then you can find your own smokes"
"sir, ma'am - " "doctor"
mala: the three genders
is "otherwhere" like ffxiv and "anyroad" or is it like. a place.
if there's one thing laura's gonna do it's try to get a magical item out of the GM
thank you, howard
witcher potion
auggie, whose friend turned into an ice ghost not even a month ago: fuck you, werewolves aren't real
arlo: maybe SOME PEOPLE - not me - are just SHY - I'm not tho - and have TROUBLE with PEOPLE - except me, I'm fine
bidet
"let matthew know" snickersnort
"what's my name?"
your name is also matthew
I don't know why "make a sneak" makes me smile but it does
howard just faceplants in the background
the story's too long to tell here but one time a woman brained herself on a hamster cage in petsmart and that's all I could think of with the guard blocking auggie
this voice is very endearing
not weird but WEIRD weird
all this for a loaf of bread?
matt making up names off the top of his head
aha! drugs
oh no
Quite Betrothed
fate dating au
"have you ever seen boiled bacon?" revolting!
"I have moments where new information makes me somewhat uncomfortable" autism mood
"I'm gonna touch it" to "this was a mistake" pipeline
if any of them were gonna succeed this seems like where you would want to succeed
yeah, DEAD SCIENTISTS, HOWARD
howard is now craving bacon
I WAS JOKING
I also enjoy this voice very much
aha. veterans.
he is An Doctor
bottom table is ND as f u c k
channeling patrick loller from tiktok: "if you thank me for my service you have to give me $5"
pocket bacon!
yeah see, $5
"we're not doing Get Help"
and that's just what the couple did to the room!
oh shit it's the fuzz
"our first victorian shit!" robbie what
joke three people in the world will get: you can only poop in the designated areas
the whole table: howard no
robbie: HOWARD YES
nose punch go CRUNCH
"HOWARD WENT ROGUE"
howard said acab
what is anjali feeding her dice
robbie do you want to tempt the wrath of the whatever
the secretary's a werewolf
with a very cute accent
"he was a horn player" "I bet he was"
"s e x u a l i n t e r c o u r s e"
howard
"I wanna take his badge" fearne lives
he ran into a doorknob"
"WHY DID YOU TALK"
"stairs is faster" confused me until I remembered some people can actually walk down stairs instead of having to take them one at a time, one foot then the other, while clinging to the rail for dear life
laura
the way my brain autofilled "stayed open during the pandemic"
"is he a tall lanky boy" tailed by slenderman
grumbles in public transportation
everybody gets to punch a cop!
cable car fun fact: I was reading dashiell hammet for the first time and had to google what a broadway car was bc he said it like 90 times in the first three pages
and I'm STILL not sure I got it right
"how do you know I'm OUP" "the everything about you"
"my name is gertrude! I mean ethel!"
"spend all the drives! you won't need them later!"
"steal the man of the cloth's cloth!"
[witcher voice] for your discretion
"if only you knew how I was making my money"
ty for not popping your shoulders out on stream anjali
(I originally said "popping them out" and decided specificity was necessary)
this music is a+
"first name trio" is a good name for a band
disco elysium crossover
"she's having an idea….and it hurts" mood
"SHE DID IT" my crackpot theory is vindicated
that is certainly a way to put it
eddie? eyes emoji?
ashley very quietly reaching for her pencil
bacon plague!
banana spiders
"make sure you bring your hand with you"
c o n s u m e
"I've been working on this really great YA novel" MATTHEW I have already snorted lemonade through my nose once tonight, you can't say shit like that
ARLO
AUGGIE
I love them
why was my only thought AT THE OPERA TONIGHT
"do I recognize her as a TA?" "she's an ex-student" you get how that's worse, right
you have buried the lede slightly arlo
anjali: "I shouldn't curse" matt: who told you that shit
"that's poor people talk"
classism!
arlo
"THAT MAN TOUCHED MY BREAST"
"JEEEEEEEMY GOD"
we never should have given matt buttons
matt you live in LA you're giving them all trauma
kickin buddies
[pounding table] werewolf weREWOLF
that's. not a werewolf.
that's a bloodborne monster
just the panicked yelling dlkfjls
I too yell wordlessly when forced to make decisions
"until it was trying to merge with your body" hate THAT wording
hey matt what the fuck
HEY MATT WHAT THE FUCK
"if I'm still aliVE YOU NERDS HELP ME" bakugocore
"its own viscosity" despise it
hey. hey howard. whatcha doin.
[justin mcelroy voice] DON'T DRILL A HOLE IN YOUR HEAD
DON'T YOU PUN RIGHT NOW
hey robbie what the F U C K
"a gun! :D"
hey. hey arlo. hey arlo whatcha doin
some fullmetal alchemist shit is what
I hate everything about this
laura has just decided all her characters are coloring books now
"this arm doesn't have function anymore" oh mood
"takE IT, ROBBIE"
"you just do. what other choice is there?" hey I don't need this right now
hey howard what the fuck
HOWARD'S HAUNTED
see this is why you don't drill a hole in your head, you get ghosts
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dream Diary Entry #1
I have just woke from a bizarre ass creepy dream about many things, that I want to get out of my head by writing it down. Many things occured in this dream but two of the most standout things are these:
1 . I dreamt about an outdoor playground for adults who could play on it dressed as their OCs. Not *everyone* was dressed up in elaborate character outfits, it seemed just that many were. A majority of them were based off Discord from My Little Pony and various Centaurworld characters. Bizarrely far less of the fur suiter kind of sort than you would expect.
And 2. Dreamt I came upon a bunch of old VHS tapes and dvds of "Horsin' Around" in my house. Yes THAT "Horsin' Around", from the Bojack Horseman universe, back in the 90s... With special edition bonus features and everything for episodes that do not exist. I salvaged a box of these somehow in a rescue from their mass destruction, probably at a neighborhood yard sale or something.
Here is where the dream goes from "collected usual muddle of obvious niche memories and interests" to just outright batshit territory. Forget about number 1 cos it has no relevance. Maybe except that I think I was possibly still in costume, while doing all this DVD stuff. The 1st half was just straightforward plain wholesome interactions and boring conversation with family and friends dressed up- bizarrely normal, at least by comparison with this half. You'd think it'd be otherwise right?
So yknow the old thing about how one tells if you're having a dream bc you cannot READ or do math in dreams? Yeah. That does not apply to me. I often CAN read. I can read so clear and easily I even recall my own dream texts or magazine pages and signage. Maybe I don't for all I know "see" real letters but whatever brain magic your dreams do to convince you that you just spoke to Mary Kate and Ashley while wearing a business suit and having tea on the ceiling, that's the same magic that convinces me my brain saw actual text symbols instead of probably distorted AI art symbolic "impressions of an idea" of text.
Anyway. So I look at all these lost media dvds and one of them has among the bonus material menu some extra scene deleted scenes, some cooking show guest footage, interviews, Herb and Bojack/cast commentary, and finally something called "peach vision", or something to that similar surreal effect, dream is fading off by this point. We'll just refer to it as that cos it feels right.
Peach Vision, as we will call it, appeared to be nothing but just the bizarre added filter of placing shiny black dot 'baby seal' style eyes and thick black closed emoji eye lines on all the spots where the character eyeballs should be in every episode or bit of bonus footage...( ^_^, @_@, -_-, *_* ×_×, stuff like that.) The result of Peach Vision appears to not do much to change anything in the episode script, it just gives a stupid goofy Tiktok style cartoon filter to everything in the footage. But the result is SO UNNERVING. I actually want to see someone Photoshop this. Its like a Creepy Pasta. And on the back of the dvd cover, amusingly, they acknowledged this:
"Who on earth wanted this, we do not know. Some weirdos. Why in the heck they wanted it, on god's green earth, we do not know. We think this is pointless and looks kinda stupid. Kinda creepy really. But whatever."
I kid you not, the back of the dvds actually said that. Almost sounds like ol BJ himself doesn't it?
And as the footage of "Horsin Around" played while under Peach Vision, my dream just barely shyed away from being "quirky innocent fun dream" to "actually this is sorta legit nightmare fuel creepy a bit". Cos the footage of Bojack with those (oO)=(oO) shiny tiny black dot baby seal eyes, started to glitch. The dvd on play buffered and like a vinyl record does if you scratch it or rotate it slowly, began to repeat itself over and over (one line I remember being stuck in repeat was Bojack saying something about mixing melted caramel in a bowl, and being like "C-C-CARA, CARA, CARA, mmmmmm-m-mel mel mel...") and to distort audio to a low drone. Sometimes the footage would turn black and white while freezing thru the buffer, even though this is something neither a DVD nor any kind of media far as I know can ever do. To my recollection VHS tapes will never do this either I think even if severely damaged but I may be wrong. It was genuinely unsettling how out of nowhere this was, enough to make me leave the living room and do assorted blurry quick other unrelated dream shenanigans so I could avoid it. But I pretty soon woke up.
Anyway this does not have a point beyond serving as my own dream journal log nonsense, but if anyone is obliged, please make a bunch of Photoshopped creepy pasta Bojack Horseman images, where the cast all have big black X'd out, or shiny dot eyes. It really would satisfy my morbid weird curiosity, I wanna know if it would be as creepy as my dream in real life.
#bojack horseman#netflix#dreams#dvds#bonus material#creepy pasta#bogleech#mirror universe#adult cartoons#furries#mlp fim#coraline#doll eyes#creepy art#unsettling#Bogleech#horsing around#photoshop#filter#2d animation#centaurworld#analog horror#vhs aesthetic#vhs horror#vhs tapes
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay, for shits and giggles: any C2 or C3 character of your choice, given you know just the barest things about them. I'm curious, and asking about any of the classic C1 characters you poke at feels Dull
For Reasons, I'm gonna go with Fearne.
favorite thing about them
Fae stealy vibes. A lot of people don't grok the particular sideways way that fae entities can operate at - Matt does, as evidenced by how he handles Artagan, but I think a lot of the fandom doesn't so much, with how I've seen Artagan (and consequently Garmelie) written at times. Fae aren't necessarily snide! They can be, but they can also completely forget something and flit onto something else. They can fleetingly fixate on a fun new idea.
And everything I've seen of Fearne shows that Ashley gets this. I am very much looking forward to watching C3 for this exact reason.
least favorite thing about them
I can't think of anything, but then I've not watched C3 so I don't have a full picture.
favorite line
Not really a line, but I love her stealing the... I believe Allhammer earring from the... I believe Loxodon. Elephant guy. And similarly, her thieving back and forth with Ashton. It's very cute.
brOTP
Chetney. Grouchy werewolf and cheerful fae faun is a combo I think is very entertaining.
OTP
@nanyoky has pre-emptively converted me: Callowmoore. Largely due to Nell, I do think that Fearne's fae possessiveness would actually help Ashton's own insecurities about being left behind a lot, in much the same way many people have speculated that Vex domme-ing Percy would help him with his self-worth issues. A persistent reminder that someone finds them worthwhile enough to hold onto and hold close, who will steal them from others, who won't see them left behind because they're hers. I think that'd help Ashton a lot and it'd also be a fitting culmination to the thieving game.
nOTP
*shrug emoji* Don't know enough for C3. I guess Orym, because he seems to be gay and not bi, and also because their platonic bonds as part of the Crown Keepers is a Good thing that helps to complicate the Bells Hells in a similar way to how the twins complicated Vox Machina, or, say, Caleb and Nott complicated early Mighty Nein. Pre-existing platonic bonds can make potential splits from the group more likely and that is fun. Yes, Laudna and Imogen knew each other pre-Hells, but we actually have a better idea what experiences Fearne and Orym share.
random headcanon
Fearne taught Mister to play patty-cake. It involved a lot of fire.
unpopular opinion
Fae conceptions of ownership and non/personhood haven't fucked Fearne up quite as people might expect. After all, she is fae. She knows those conceptions - she holds them and applies them herself - and so having them applied to her isn't really that strange.
It's not that which necessarily fucks her up.
But being left behind and forgotten does. The passage of time being irrelevant does. Because she grew up in what felt fleeting to her parents, and she was abandoned - and we know she holds onto what she finds and claims from her own, from Mister to Orym (resurrecting him) to what little items she steals.
song i associate with them
N/A
favorite picture of them
@agarthanguide's original Crown Keeper's art for her I think? Or... if I'm to be specific the second splash page. This one:
I like the glowy eyes and the play of light, the twist of the branch that Mister is on being so similar to the twist of her staff. I think it's really cool. Plus how, as the druid and so nature-based, she almost blends into the nature of the background. I think it's very clever and while I know Hannah may not have thought of it like that while drawing it, I still think it's very neat.
Send me a character and I'll answer for each of the above for them
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello 🩷 My name is Laurie, I am the cousin of Ashley, who's been messaging you.😜 She wants to talk to you again but she can barely keep her eyes open lol 🤭It's gonna be TMI for an online stranger but I am kinda sorta getting high🥴 so let's goooo ✨✨✨✨Love using all the emojis lol Also love repeating the word high it makes me giggle. But basically, my dad and Ashley's mom have another sister who married this "redblooded American hurrhurr so manly you kids and your pronouns" dude a couple years ago.🙄 She's all over him because she was insecure about "scoring a man" as a divorce at her age but we are not big fans lmao. 🤐So we've been sneaking outside to smoke weed and chat away from him and his bullshit, but Ashley has also been really laying on the "wine" our grandma makes.😵💫🥴🤤 I use quotes for wine because that's what she calls it but to me, it's more like bitters or something?😓 Like it tastes like rubbing alcohol and it makes your tongue feel swollen and your face droop🥴🤭🤫 lol I only manage a couple of sips to be polite tbh but Ashley's gotten really out of it tho, she keeps forgetting that we already smoked and asking to get high together.🤭🤫😵💫👻 I am like "Girl you are already crossfaded off your tits lol", and she is like "No I want to get crossfaded, but I only drank a little tonight!"😸 It's very silly haha But I wanna take her to the guest bedroom and give her some water. 🙏Thank you for responding to all the messages you get, I love the whole idea behind your blog, I am just grinning like an idiot going thru all of it xxx
hi laurie! thanks for checking in, i was wondering how Ashley was doing after that last message from her! that "wine" sounds strong af lol, probably too strong for me (i'm way more into weed than alcohol if you couldn't tell.) you probably did the smart thing only having a few sips! taking Ashley to the guest bedroom and giving her water sounds like a good idea; she can always smoke more later when she's slightly less out of it!
(i do try to balance my "encouraging further intoxication" bad influence with "encouraging drinking water" lol)
i'm glad you're enjoying my blog!! i am now at thanksgiving myself so it might take me a while to reply to asks, but feel free to check in again whenever!
1 note
·
View note
Note
*insert flower emoji since I can't do it on desktop*
Gimme some Ashley :D
A Dish Best Served Cold
Rated M
A “Queenie finally does the damn thing and writes several hundred thousand words about the parallels between Hannah and Ashley” Until Dawn AU
They were all just supposed to get together for a fun weekend. That’s all it was supposed to be. But after a humiliating prank where her friends use her crush on Chris against her, Ashley Brown runs out into a growing storm in Blackwood Pines and just...isn’t seen again after that. Not for a year, anyway. Not until her friends come back for one more visit.
And it will be their last.
...
Wasn’t this just how it always turned out.
There she was, effectively a million miles away from the assholes back at the lodge, turned around and lost and confused and staring up into the redness of her own eyelids, and now she knew what she should’ve said. Now she knew what she should’ve done. It was all so simple now.
The lodge was huge. It would’ve made sense to run upstairs and into a room - any room. She could’ve locked the door. Barricaded it. Waited until the storm broke and called her mom to come pick her up. Heck, she could’ve called the ranger station and reported them all for underage drinking, see how funny they all thought that was! She could’ve holed up in one of the nicer bathrooms, made the rest of the stay inconvenient for everyone else. She could’ve...
And now she was crying again. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. That was helping the pain in her head and the pain in her neck and the pain in her back and the pain in her sinuses and the pain in her lungs and her heart and her bones and her blood and her everything else. It was really, really helping. The way her tears froze to her cheeks was so soothing and so calming. She’d be out of this mess in no time flat if she kept carrying on like this, no doubt!
Ashley pulled in a breath, deep and shaking, and screwed her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could. The cold of the mine sunk in anyway, jabbing into the sensitive meat of her eyeballs like needles; she tried to lift her hands to cover her face and found she couldn’t. She couldn’t. Oh God, was that just shock, or some kind of spinal injury?! What was she going to do if she couldn’t get up? Couldn’t move?! What if she was just...stuck there at the bottom of the cliff forever, exposed to the elements?! She’d freeze to death before anyone even -
No. No, that didn’t feel right, actually.
The longer she lay there, the less the cold bothered her. She was too angry to be too cold, after all. Way, way too angry.
send me a flower and i'll make up a fic (that doesn't exist [yet {because we all know how bad my self restraint is}])!!!
#jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake#asks#queenie writes supermassive#i just have a lot of feelings about hannah and ashley being parallels okay#just. just a lot. of feelings. about that.#(and unlike hannah i think ashley would 900% GO AFTER CHRIS LIKE HELL ON WHEELS AHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHE'D TEAR HIM APART)
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
Here
He is your duty now
(From here onwards I’m probably gonna add Ashley or OyM!Ellie too, and probs Ha-Ru YK sometime— Just not atm
Ashley is shown by 🦉 emoji)
⚡️: “AWWW THIS IS SO CUTE!!!” *Holds it like borgor /j /lh*
🦉: “Birbie! :D ”
💫: “…”
*Julianne gently holds the bird, slowly and carefully as if it’s going to break any moment. The Pootoo just blinks.*
💫: “T-this, this is..”
*The potoo blinks again.*
💫, hugging it close, closing her eyes relaxed: “It’s adorable..”
⚡️: <D
Potoo: :D
#wii deleted you#wii deleted you ask blog#wii deleted you au#on your marks au#the oym blog#admin post#wdy sam#wdy will#wdy ellie#answered ask#Ask the OyM band
1 note
·
View note
Text
[Image description: a comment from Tumblr user @karenisyourfriend which says: "I want Liam to play a Bard because he'd be so creative with it for sure." End ID]
On one hand, Liam said publicly at one point that he doesn't want to play a Bard after Sam did such an awesome job with Scanlan. On the other hand, Matt said he would write a homebrew college of tragedy bard just for Liam. Also, this happened on twitter recently:
[Image description: a tweet from @/BesteKaleb which says: "Hey @/matthewmercer, quick question: when are we getting the college of tragedy subclass for bards? Matthew Mercer responded with an eyes emoji. End ID]
If Liam plays a Bard it will be sure to destroy us all emotionally. Tbh if anyone plays a Bard I'd be ecstatic - imagine Ashley as a Bard, she'd rule.
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
FINALLY!...SOME PROGRESS! CHENFORD 4X09
Exactly! Finally in this episode I saw the old Lucy and Tim again, accompanied by a beautiful evolution of their relationship. I'd start right here: telling your superior in rank that he's an idiot implies that you have an exaggerated level of confidence, and that the barriers between the two of you are practically nil. Those 30 seconds are the epitome of the Chenford relationship. Tim knew Chen was psychoanalyzing them, and Lucy knew Bradford didn't want to hear that. Which is pretty silly of Tim, not wanting to listen to her, then as he did in 4x08 HE DOES!
HE LISTENS TO HER, AND HE WELCOMES HER. DOESN'T LEAVE HER OUT OF WHAT'S GOING ON WITH HIM. The fact that Lucy is present during the work in Tim's old house is a symptom of that. And Lucy is THERE present, in all circumstances, offering Tim her help. We see it when she does the interrogation for him (Tim trusts her so much that he allows it), when she tells him that in fact Genny is right, he can't leave her alone all the time (in fact, Tim took the opportunity of finding the gun to get away from that house. Can we blame him?) and how Tim then promises himself, and promises Genny to be more present, and we see Lucy's support in the hug. THAT HUG IS LIFE! Not just because it's a callback for 4x01, but because it shows the path these two guys have taken. They are literally each other's person (I found this quote on social recalling Grey's Anatomy; I don't remember who said it, but it sums up the relationship Tim and Lucy have so well). Their friendship is now so close that I don't want to hear any more excuses about it taking time away from them since they were TO/Rookie! The time is ripe, this is the writing we like! Also seeing the movement that is created in front of an episode (positive movement, but also criticism)...I think the writers are well aware of what we want, they are just giving it in drops. Only now we need to get serious and get the season done, and I want a Chenford kiss in 4x22. I DEMAND IT! Did they realize how not having Nolan at the center of the world is beautiful? I like his character, I get that he's the main character that the whole story is built on, but when he takes a step back and isn't the superhero I prefer him. It gives the other characters a chance to open up, and for him to still be present. The introductions story with his son is an example, or the choice to talk about marriage.
Let's come specifically to the hug scene: FOR THE FIRST TIME TIM DIDN’T SAY HE IS FINE!!! Lucy feels guilty, she can't for the first time say she's sorry, that she didn't mean to claim he was like his father, but that she understood him. And she loves him just the way he is. And the only thing she can do, is to show him her affection with her hug. And in this embrace make him understand that he is not like his father. Tim is completely wrapped up in Lucy's neck, and he squints his eyes. Poor puppy! I'd like to hug him too.
I'm very pleased!!! The only "flaw" is that I thought Genny would tell his brother something about Lucy because rest assured, Genny knows! Now I don't know what to expect from the next episode: both the emoji and the promos are misleading (for example I was expecting a much closer reference to Christmas). I think that in the next episode something will happen between Ashley and Tim, which will lead him to initially consider leaving her, but then he will change his mind because he sees Lucy with another guy. Let's not get our hopes up that he'll talk strictly about it to Lucy, it's easy for there to be a callback because he's let himself go so much in these episodes, but Tim is Tim.
Thanks for the GIF!
Tim's dad is an asshole!
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Private Investigator
Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader
Rated: T
Warnings: some language, infidelity.
A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.
You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.
That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.
"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."
"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.
Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.
“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.
“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”
Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.
Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.
“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”
The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.
"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."
Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.
"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.
"Not yet," you reply.
"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."
“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”
Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.
You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”
“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.
“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.
Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”
“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.
“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.
“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.
“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”
“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.
“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.
Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.
"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.
"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."
"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.
As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.
Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.
You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."
You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.
It's five days later that you get a text.
Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.
You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.
You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.
He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.
No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.
You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.
Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.
“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”
“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.
You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.
Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.
How have you been doing? He asks.
As well as can be expected, you text back.
Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.
It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.
The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.
You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.
You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.
The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.
You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.
Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.
He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.
And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.
Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.
Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.
Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.
Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.
“Hey,” Frankie greets.
“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.
“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.
“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”
Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”
“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”
And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.
“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.
It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.
It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.
Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.
Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.
He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.
It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?
Finally my day off lol, you text back.
Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?
Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?
Sounds good. I'll see you then.
You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.
The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”
“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”
Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”
You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.
“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.
Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”
The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.
“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.
“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.
Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”
His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.
You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.
“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.
“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.
“Of course, hermosa.”
“Why did you become a private investigator?”
The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.
“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.
“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”
You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”
Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”
The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.
Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”
“Oh really? And what was yours?”
“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.
“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.
“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.
After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.
Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.
Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”
Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.
In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.
His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.
“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.
“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”
“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.
The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.
Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.
Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.
Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.
“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.
“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.
“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.
“Nope.”
“Are you gonna?”
“We can open them together,” you suggest.
But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.
Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?
His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.
You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.
That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?
Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.
“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.
“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”
“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”
“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”
“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”
“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”
“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”
Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”
“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.
While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.
Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.
I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.
Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.
With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.
It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.
Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.
Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?
Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.
Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.
You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?
You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?
Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.
She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.
A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.
He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.
Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.
Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.
Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.
When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.
He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.
Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.
Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.
Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.
Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.
You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.
“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”
“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”
His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.
“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.
“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.
“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”
Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.
You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.
Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”
“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.
“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.
It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”
“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”
✨✨Part 2✨✨
#triple frontier#triple frontier imagine#pi!frankie#francisco morales#francisco catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie catfish morales#francisco morales x you#francisco morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader
164 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
iiconmaster-blog
Untitled
tenille-arts
butterfly effect
laterp
Untitled
annesophieburatto
Anne Sophie Buratto
perfectus-immobilien
Perfectus Immobilien