#and patty would be in too much shock to be like oh yeah i never told him im a witch and she accepts anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellakitse · 3 years

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Greener on the Other Side

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid."

Alex hasn't heard anything about TK Strand in over four years. That's about to change.

Alex Fletcher walks into Gramercy Tavern twenty minutes later than he agreed to meet his friends. He already dreads what is sure to be a lecture on his constant tardiness from the group, but more so, what he knows will be pointed looks when they see he’s come alone instead of with his boyfriend.

Spotting them to the left of the restaurant, he starts to make his way over to them. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts to say with a charming smile as all five of them look up at his voice, hoping to curb the scolding before it starts. “The 6 train was an absolute mess. It got the 33rd street and then refused to go forward.”

Liz and Becca share a look at his excuse, and Alex has to keep from rolling his eyes at them. He gets it. Being late is one of his less desirable character traits, and they find it annoying, but after over a decade of friendship, he thinks they should get over it by now.

“Yeah, the trains have been acting up all week,” Malcolm offers while his wife Patricia gives him a small smile, the two of them ever the peacemakers of the group. “Sit down, man.”

Alex offers his friends a more sincere smile, shaking hands with him and his other buddy Chris before giving all three women kisses on the cheek.

“Where is Dean?” Patricia asks politely, and Alex winces at her mistake. It’s been a while since he and Dean ended things, but it’s also been a while since Patricia has joined her husband at one of their dinners.

“We broke up a few months ago,” he tells her, his face feeling tight from his fake smile. “I’m dating someone new now. His name is Wallace.”

“Oh,” Patricia says softly, going a little red in the face at her blunder. “My apologies, Alex.”

He waves her off, wanting to move on from the embarrassing moment quickly. “No worries, Patty,” he says to her. “And Wallace wanted to come, but he had to work,” he explains, trailing off lamely, not believing the lie himself, but it’s not like he can tell his friends that Wallace simply didn’t want to come because he thought it would be boring.

His friends all give him understanding, if not quite believing looks, and Alex wonders just how pathetic his expression is that they don’t push for more.

The mood around the table is awkward and quiet, making his skin feel tight. Thankfully their waiter comes over to take their drink order, easing the moment, giving him something else to focus on.

He starts to loosen up once there is a vodka soda in his hand. He listens to Liz as she talks about her latest architecture project, laughs at the funny story Chris tells them about his 1st-grade class painting the class bunny with washable markers. He’s enjoying their company, forgetting for a moment that his boyfriend should be there with him getting to know his friends when Becca’s eyes light up as Chris wraps up another story about his students.

“You guys will never believe who I saw yesterday walking out of FAO Schwarz,” she starts, her brown eyes lighting up with the chance to share some juicy gossip.

Alex leans in, already intrigued by the look on her face.

“Who?” Liz asks with a grin, curious herself.

“TK Strand,” Becca answers, saying the name with emphasis, and Alex gets why even as he feels shock go through him. It’s been over four years since he has seen or heard from TK. Not since the night he stopped him from proposing, confessing he was in love with someone else.

Mitchell, he thinks bitterly as he takes a large gulp of his drink. In the end, he’d turned out to be Alex’s own personal karma for hurting TK.

Walking in on him and another guy from their gym eight months into their official relationship had been a kick in the teeth and a hard lesson to learn.

He shakes his head to clear it from the lousy memory just in time to hear Becca’s following comment, shocking him more than her first. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

Becca looks at him, hesitating as she bites down on her lip, looking remorseful for a moment, probably remembering that out of all of them, he’d be the one with the most invested interest.

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid. They were coming out of the toy store when I bumped into them, and he introduced them to me. His husband’s name is Carlos, and their little boy is Luca. Really cute kid – was talking a mile a minute about all the toys in the place, and given all the bags they had, they must have bought him half the store.”

“Wow,” Chris breathes out, his surprise evident. “I can’t believe he’s married and with a kid. How old do you think?”

“Four,” Becca answers instantly. “I asked Luca, and he held up his fingers.”

Alex shakes his head again. It’s been four years since he and TK were together, and he has a four-year-old son. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says mostly to himself.

“I get the feeling he’s adopted,” Becca answers. “Or maybe Carlos’ son,” she continues with a shrug. “But he called TK dad.”

“What was the husband like?” Liz questions, and Alex is grateful because he can’t bring himself to ask.

“He was polite and friendly,” Becca pauses, shooting him another look before continuing. “Ridiculously hot, and hopelessly in love with TK. I spent maybe ten minutes with them, and you guys should have seen the way he looked at him. It was like TK hung the moon.”

The table is quiet for a moment. For his benefit, he’s sure, as he tries to process everything he’s learned, when Liz speaks up again.

“Good for TK. He deserves that and more,” she says with a smile on her face that takes a hard edge when he shoots her a glare. “What?” she questions, her whole expression challenging him. “You didn’t take care of him when you guys were together, and he’s a great guy. I always liked him even though we lost touch after you broke up. I’m glad he’s found happiness.”

Alex bites down on the urge to lash out at his friend, not only is it a losing battle with Liz, but deep down in the parts of him where he has buried his guilt and shame at his past actions, he knows he can’t argue with the truth she just laid on him.

֎֎֎

The rest of the dinner is awkward to say the least. Even though they move on from TK, Alex can’t stop thinking about his ex and what he’s learned. He pulls Becca to the side as they’re leaving, grilling her for any more information she might have.

She finally tells him TK had mentioned they were staying with his mother and little brother – one of the few things he did know about TK and his family since Gwyneth and his father ran in the same legal circles. He’d learned about the woman’s surprise pregnancy almost three years ago.

Becca looks at him as he absorbs the information before letting out a heavy sigh, reminding him not to do anything stupid.

He’d given her an absent nod that even he didn’t believe. Which is probably why he’s outside of Gwyneth’s Park Avenue apartment in a hat and sunglasses like a stalker, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex and his husband.

Whether luck is on his side or karma wants to teach him another lesson, he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s been outside of the swanky apartment building for maybe 15 minutes, trying to decide what exactly he thinks he’s doing, when the front door opens and out walks the person he wants to see.

He ducks behind a tree just in time to not be spotted, peeking behind it to look at the small family.

TK, at 26-years-old, had been a beautiful man; Alex remembers that well. But now, at 30, he’s even more stunning if that’s even possible. He walks out of the building with a tall, muscular man Alex instantly recognizes as the ‘ridiculously hot’ mystery husband. Each of them with a little boy in their arms.

“So what are we doing today?” he hears TK ask with a grin on his face as the little boys instantly start to chant, ‘Park, park, park!’

“I wanna see the penguins, Dada,” exclaims the little boy in the arms of TK’s husband. Carlos and Luca, he remembers.

TK smiles softly at his son before looking at the child in his own arms. “What about you, little brother? Do you want to go to the Central Park Zoo and see the penguins?” he asks, tickling his chin, getting a happy giggle along with a nod from the little boy.

TK’s grin grows before he looks over at his husband, getting a nod from the man too.

“It’s unanimous then,” TK proclaims in an animated voice that has the boys lighting up. “To the park! To the penguins!”

The pair of boys let out a ‘yeah!’ leaning over at each other to share a clumsy high-five that has the adults laughing.

“You just had to rile them up, troublemaker,” Carlos scolds TK, and he might be a stranger to Alex, but he can tell it’s said with amused fondness.

“You love me,” TK teases his husband, going easily when the man reaches out to tug him in closer by his shirt, turning his face up as his husband leans in to kiss him, tilting to the side to keep the boys out of the way.

Alex swallows hard at the display. Even from where he’s hiding, he can see TK’s bright smile and dancing green eyes once he and his husband break the kiss.

“Always, my love,” Carlos tells TK as he kisses the side of his face adoringly.

“Dada, Papa,” Luca groans out. “Kissing later, park now,” he continues, much to the amusement of the two men.

“So demanding,” TK teases, leaning in to kiss the little boy’s cheek too, laughing at the face he makes. “Okay, let’s go.”

They start towards the park, and Alex hesitates for a moment. He’s seen and heard TK and his family with his own eyes and ears. It’s obvious his ex is happy and not at all thinking about him. He should turn around in the opposite direction and leave before his luck runs out and they spot him. It’s the reasonable thing to do, and yet he finds himself following them about half a block back, keeping his head down.

He can’t hear them from this distance, but he can watch them. He takes in the way the two men hold hands while each holding on to a child, listening and chatting with the two little ones. Everything about them screams family, and Alex can’t deny the dull ache it causes inside his chest.

Is this what he and TK could have had?

He follows them through the park until they come to a series of benches. He watches as TK hands over his little brother to his husband, the man easily carrying both kids. TK sits down, but no one else does. Instead, he waves at them as his husband walks away with the children, leaving TK alone.

Alex hesitates again. This is his chance to approach TK, and yet he’s frozen in place by indecision.

A moment later, his ex takes the choice out of his hand.

He startles as TK turns his head to look straight at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there?” he calls out to him casually, the picture of calm as he places his arms on the backrest of the bench. It’s different from the TK he remembers, who was always constantly bouncing his legs with nervous energy.

“How did you – “ he starts, feeling awkward and off-balance.

“I didn’t,” TK answers with a shrug as Alex gets closer to him. “It was Carlos who realized. He’s a cop. Noticing weirdos is kind of his job.”

Alex cringes at the descriptor as he comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi, TK,” he says lamely, wincing again at the high pitch sound of his voice.

TK raises an eyebrow at him again. “Hello, Alex. Any particular reason you’re following us in that get-up?” he questions, pointing at his hat and sunglasses.

Alex feels his face grow hot at the question. He reaches up, taking them off. “Becca said she saw you,” he says uncomfortably, getting a casual nod back from his ex. “And I got curious,” he continues weakly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“That sounds like poor impulse control,” TK mutters to himself. He moves to the side, leaving half the bench open for Alex to decide if he wants to take a seat or not.

Alex would be embarrassed by the speed with which he takes the offer, but the joy at being allowed to get closer overrides that. Neither says anything after he sits down, him because he’s nervous, TK it seems because he’s simply waiting him out.

“So,” he starts slowly. “You’re visiting?”

TK looks at him, seeming to study him before giving him a nod. “We try to see my mother and my little brother Robbie every few months. Sometimes they come to see us, but New York is always pretty in the spring, and Luca has never been.”

“That’s your son,” he blurts out, his face going hot again at the look TK shoots him.

“Becca shared everything, did she,” he questions with a dry smile, shaking his head to himself.

“The group had dinner,” he explains, not needing to add who exactly was there. There was a time when TK would have sat right next to him at one of those dinners, charming everyone with stories about fighting fires and daring rescues.

“Ah,” TK exhales softly. “It’s nice you all still do that. They’re good people. I liked them.”

“They liked you too,” Alex answers, giving TK a half-smile. “Liz was thrilled to hear that you’re married and have a kid. She’s happy you’re happy.”

TK smiles, this time more genuine. “That sounds like her,” he comments, looking nostalgic for the first time. “She was always kind to me,” he finishes, not adding anything else.

It goes quiet between them again, causing Alex’s nerves to fray at the edges. He’s not used to this TK. The one he remembers always filled the silence, even if it was just with nervous chatter.

“So, are you?” he can’t help but blurt out, swallowing nervously when TK gives him a curious look. “Are you happy?”

TK lets out a huff, and while he doesn’t smile or laugh, Alex can see a hint of amusement in his bottle-green eyes. “Is that why you’re here? You want to know if I’m happy?”

He feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand at the mocking he hears in TK’s voice. “Is that so crazy?” he questions defensively. “The last time we spoke wasn’t precisely the best encounter – “

“That’s because I was getting ready to propose to you and instead found out you were fucking around my back with a spin instructor,” TK interrupts him, surprising Alex with how calm he is. There is no anger or reproach in TK’s voice like Alex anticipated, just a simple fact. It hurts Alex more than he expected to witness how unaffected TK seems. “How is Mitchell by the way?”

Alex clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as embarrassment courses through him. He wants to stand up and walk away from this. He’s not sure what he’d hoped to accomplish by seeking TK out, but it’s clear now whatever it was, he isn’t going to get it.

He looks at TK to find a mild curiosity on his face, like Alex’s answer doesn’t really matter to him one way or another.

“We broke up,” he answers anyway, taking a breath to try to soothe the ache before his next words. “I found him in our bed with someone else less than a year after you and I broke up.”

“Well shit,” TK says quietly, letting out a breath of his own. He doesn’t look gloating the way he has a right to look. Instead, he looks at Alex with what can only be called compassion. “Karma didn’t just pay you back. It sucker-punched you in the face, huh?”

Alex lets out a startled laugh at the description. TK joins him with a chuckle of his own, and Alex welcomes it even if it’s at his own expense. They laugh for a few seconds before they let it trail off.

“To answer your question,” TK starts to say. He looks at him, bobbing his head softly. “Yes, I’m happy. I’m the kind of happy where I wake up in the morning, look at my husband sleeping, usually with our kid between us, and I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”

“You love him,” Alex whispers, not really needing an answer when he can see it clearly on his face.

TK answers anyway. “He’s my soulmate,” he says with a smile that isn’t directed at him at all. It’s directed at the man who walked away with two kids in his arms minutes before. “I used to think that was you,” he continues, his voice sounding far away, lost in the past while Alex aches in the present. “I was so sure of it once, and then I met Carlos. I was still a mess about you, and I wasn’t looking to fall in love at all, but there he was, and I fell. I fell so fast, Alex. Years later, I’m still falling in love with him every single day.”

“That sounds – “ Alex starts, exhaling through the dull throbbing in his chest. “Scary, honestly.”

TK smiles, bright and beautiful, just like Alex remembers. “It is,” he says with a short laugh. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also amazing, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”

Alex nods quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry you haven’t found that yet,” TK continues softly because it seems that surprising Alex is the name of the game today. He gives TK a shocked look that has him giving Alex a compassionate look back. “I never wished you ill will. I was hurt and angry after everything went to hell between us, but in the end, I wanted you to find someone to love the way you couldn’t love me and for that person to love you back just the same.”

Alex swallows hard at TK’s words, feeling overwhelmed by them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

TK looks away from him, and Alex follows his gaze to find that his husband and the kids are coming back with ice cream in their hands. “Thank you for saying that,” he says softly as he stands. He looks down at Alex, giving him a slight quirk of his mouth. “Goodbye, Alex. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Alex watches TK walk away from him, knowing it will be the last time he’ll see him. “Goodbye, TK,” he whispers at his back, feeling the loss more now than he did four years ago.

֎֎֎

“Dada, we got ice cream!” Luca exclaims happily as he slurps on his spiderman popsicle.

“I can see that. Can I have a taste of spidey?” he questions, leaning in when Luca sweetly offers him his treat. “Mmm, that’s yummy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Luca smiles up at him, his face already a sticky red and blue mess. He looks at Robbie to see his face is yellow from his Spongebob popsicle. He smiles at them fondly as he turns his backpack to his front, searching for the wet wipes to clean their faces.

“We got you a cone with sprinkles,” Carlos says with a smile, though TK can see the worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

TK looks at his husband, taking in his concern for him along with his ever-present love, and smiles as he remembers what he just told Alex moments ago. The love he and Carlos share is so strong – it can be frightening at times to feel so much and so intensely for another person, but like he told Alex, he wouldn’t change it for the world when it means Carlos loves him back just as strongly.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers, reaching out to touch Carlos’ cheek. “Everything is okay,” he smiles at his husband before looking down at his son and little brother. “Better than okay because we’re going to go see some penguins!”

Luca and Robbie cheer happily.

“Let’s go, Robbie,” Luca says to his uncle, throwing an arm over the other little boy’s shoulder.

TK and Carlos watch them walk a few steps ahead of them, chatting away the way only little kids can.

“You sure you’re alright?” Carlos asks as he hands him a melting ice cream. TK takes it, giving it a few licks to keep it from dripping.

“I swear, babe,” he assures him as he wraps an arm around Carlos’ waist. “We talked, and then we said goodbye.”

“What did he want?” Carlos asks curiously.

TK shrugs. He’ll be honest even after talking to Alex; he’s still not entirely sure what the other man wanted out of the conversation. “I’m not even sure he knows,” he answers after a moment. “He apologized for the past and asked me if I was happy. Maybe he was feeling guilty.”

“What did you tell him?” Carlos questions, a smile playing on his mouth when TK shoots him a look. “What?” he asks innocently, and TK can’t help but chuckle at his fishing.

“I told him,” he starts to say, making sure that he’s holding Carlos’ gaze, as usual falling in love all over again as he gets lost in Carlos’ soulful brown eyes. “That every morning, I wake up amazed I got so lucky to love and be loved by you.”

Carlos pulls him to his side, pressing his face into his neck. “I’m the lucky one, Ty,” he whispers against his skin.

TK smiles at Carlos’ words, his smile growing as Luca shouts for them to keep up; the penguins are waiting. “We both are, my love.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #outsider POV #my writing

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1

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Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go.

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin.

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.”

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.”

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours.

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?”

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.”

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?”

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.”

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words.

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.”

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.”

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid.

“Are you alright?”

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt.

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house.

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek.

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.”

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner.

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier.

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.”

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.”

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.”

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you.

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you.

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach.

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it.

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric.

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?”

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?”

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you.

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood.

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo-

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war.

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views.

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.”

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.”

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him.

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t.

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed.

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult?

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.”

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief.

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be?

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood.

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.”

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.”

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words.

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong.

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?”

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink.

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind.

“You really don’t have to-”

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together.

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.”

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him.

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased.

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay.

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-”

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you.

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.”

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully.

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back.

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.”

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.”

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.”

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.”

______

Taglist:

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x you #Arvin Russell #arvin rus #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics #Hayloft

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dirtykpopsnaps · 3 years

Text

Oh, Shit...He’s A Swimmer — Dannyphantom.exe smut

Warnings: This fic contains 18+ material. Anyone under 18 seen interacting with this fic will be blocked!!

Contains: Swimmer!Danny. Lifeguard!Y/N. (Kind of) public sex. unprotected sex (he pulls out, but wrap it up). I think that’s it?? This isn’t really kinky...

Also, a short appearance from William_papa_

Requested: no

Words: 3, 541 (oh, holy shit)

A/N: Okay...the character Nicole in this fic is *heavily* based on my best friend. Some of Nicole’s lines are things that she actually says.

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All around me, students hurry from class to class. The sun is shining brightly overhead and I hum happily in the warmth. A soft wind tussles my hair as I make my way towards the main building. I hike my bookbag further up on my shoulder and pull open the door, looking around for my best friend. My eyes flit over several groups of students before I see her and smile brightly. “Nicole!” I exclaim, hurrying over to her. Nicole’s eyes meet mine and she smiles happily, pushing away from the wall she was leaning on. “Ready for lunch?” I ask.

“Ugh, yes. I’m a hungry hippo,” she complains, rubbing her stomach. I laugh lightly, rolling my eyes at her.

“Has Will shown up yet? I didn’t see him,” I say, looking around again.

“Okay, if he was here, you would see him. Your brother is a giant,” she reminds me.

“Tell me about it. Dunno how he got all the height in the family and I ended up a measly 5’4,” I sigh.

Chatting back and forth, Nicole and I walk into the dining hall. We grab a table and I set down my bookbag before heading towards the cafeteria line. I grab two plates and hand one to Nicole, looking at the food that’s being offered today. Calmly, I grab some fries and a chicken patty on a bun before getting a water bottle. Nicole grabs her food and follows me back to the table.

At the table, we both sit down. I notice some a new bookbag and ID have appeared and immediately know that Will is here. Nicole must notice, too, because she comments on it before sitting down and starting to eat. Our lunch conversation is fairly normal. We talk about classes and assignments that we have to do. When my brother joins us, I start talking about something funny that happened in one of my classes today.

All around us, other students are talking happily with their friends. When our conversation lulls, I start looking around at the other students. This is something that I like doing sometimes, people watching. It’s interesting to see what other people are doing and wonder what’s going on in their life. My eyes scan over the room, resting on no one in particular. Suddenly, my eyes are drawn across the room and I see...him. He’s sitting by himself at a table, just staring off into space. His white-blonde hair looks cute and fluffy and I have the urge to run my fingers through it. His strong arms are on full display, leaned against the table with his chin his palm. Truthfully, he’s very attractive, but I’m more just curious about who he is.

I must have been quiet for a while because I’m pulled back to the conversation with a shout of my name. I blink a few times, focusing back on Nicole and Will. They’re both staring at me and I flash an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry...what were you saying?” I ask. Nicole rolls her eyes at me jokingly.

“What am I, chopped liver?” She asks. I laugh lightly, shaking my head.

“No, no, sorry. Just people watching,” I say.

“Any interesting people?” Will asks, looking around the cafeteria. I look back over in the direction of the white-haired boy.

“Well...there’s this guy that I don’t recognize. He might’ve transferred this semester or something,” I say, shrugging lightly.

“Where?” Will asks, looking around again.

“Over there. He’s alone at a table, white hair.”

Quietly, Will follows my eyesight and he seems to see the boy, too. “Oh, that’s Danny,” he says calmly, going back to his food. I stare at him in surprise.

“You know him?!” I ask in shock. Will shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean, not well. I share some classes with him. He’s nice enough,” Will explains.

“Oh, okay,” I say, starting to eat again, too.

“Yeah, he sits near me so we talk sometimes. I occasionally tell him about my soccer games and he talks about his meets.” Nicole knits her eyebrows together, turning to Will.

“His meets?” She asks. Will nods his head lightly.

“Yeah, he’s on the swim team. Joined early this semester.”

For a few seconds, there’s silence between the three of us. Then, the information he just gave us settles in.

“Wait a second...he’s a swimmer?!” I ask in shock. Will gives me a confused look for a second before answering.

“Uh...yeah? I’m pretty sure, anyway,” he says slowly. “Am...Am I missing something?” His eyes quickly dart between Nicole and I. Immediately, Nicole and I make eye contact. She throws her head back, cackling at the situation I’ve gotten myself into.

“Nope...nothing that you should know,” I say, looking back down at my food.

See the thing is...I kind of have a thing for swimmers. Nicole knows this, as I’ve told her about it several times. Honestly, I don’t know what it is. I just find swimmers very...hot. I’m not really sure why, but I’ve always found them particularly attractive. Up until recently, I was on swim team myself. I only stopped when I started college because my major is very intensive and I didn’t want to have to focus on too many things. Maybe I’ll join again one day, but who knows.

For the rest of lunch, Will keeps trying to bring the topic back up. Thankfully, Nicole helps me change the topic again every time and I’m able to avoid telling him anything. As much as I love my brother, talking about crushes and things I find attractive can be hard. He can get a bit overprotective sometimes and it’s kind of frustrating. So, if I can avoid conversations like that, I do.

Soon enough, we finish lunch and each head out to our different things. Nicole and will still have lectures, so they head towards their lecture halls. My classes finished for the day, so I go back to my dorm to work on homework. Thankfully, I don’t have too much work and I’m done within a couple hours. I take a break for a while and just turn on some random YouTube videos. Around 5 o’clock, I change into my swimsuit and pull clothes over top. I’m having dinner with Will and Nicole like every night and then I’m going to head to my job at the school’s indoor pool. I’m the lifeguard, so I kind of need to be there for people to be able to swim.

Dinner is normal, small conversation between the three of us. Thankfully, Will seems to have forgotten about our lunchtime conversation, so I don’t need to worry about that. When I’m done with dinner, I say goodbye to Nicole and Will before heading towards the college’s sports center. The sports center is a large building over by the football field and holds a lot of the college’s indoor sports. There’s a gym, dance rooms, track and basketball courts, plus an indoor pool. I’m almost always here, even when I’m not working. Like I said, I enjoy swimming, so I usually swim when I’m not working.

Calmly, I walk into the sports center and make my way towards the pool. I unlock the doors and turn on the lights, pulling my clothes off and putting them in the lifeguard locker. For the most part, the lifeguard shifts are pretty quiet. Of course, there’s the regulars that come in, but they usually take Friday and the weekends off. I sigh softly, sitting in the lifeguard chair and just listening to the buzz of the overhead lights.

For a while, everything is pretty quiet. Then, out of nowhere, I hear one of the changing room doors open and close. Not thinking much of it, I look up to see who’s entered the pool. Standing just at the end of one of the pool lanes, slowly getting into the water is...him. The boy from lunch...Danny, I think Will called him. I feel my eyes get wide before I look down at my lap again, my mind going into a frenzy. ‘He’s never come before, why is he here now?! He’s here to swim, you idiot. Oh my god. Holy shit...I have to watch him swim. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.’ I’m internally screaming at the thoughts of having to watch this incredibly hot guy swim.

Taking a deep breath, I try to clear my head. Looking up again, my eyes fall on Danny. He’s in the water now and is slowly starting to swim laps. I watch as the water makes ripples where his arms and legs enter and exit. His drenched white-blonde hair sticks to his forehead when he comes up for bits of air. His arms are on even better display than they were at lunch and I can’t help but watch as his muscles flex while he swims. ‘stop that. but... no, stop that! he’s gonna think you’re some weirdo!’ my mind yells at me. I sigh softly, fiddling with the rings of keys that I have.

Suddenly, I hear someone speak up and my heart stops. There’s only one person that it could be. “You know...it’s rude to stare. Though, I’m not complaining,” he chuckles. His voice is a little higher than I imagined, but it doesn’t bother me. I scramble for words, trying to think of *anything* to say to him.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to, I just...I...you’re...you’re really handsome and I...I can’t help it,” I stumble over my words. Internally, I’m smacking myself over the head. Y/N...you are a goddamn idiot.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you think so. You’re rather pretty, as well,” he smiles. I stare at him with wide eyes.

“I...me?!” I ask, pointing at my chest. He laughs lightly, his beautiful caramel eyes lighting up.

“Is that so hard to believe? I’m surprised you don’t hear it more often.”

Resting his arms against the tiled floor, he looks up at me from the water. “It’s...not so much hard to believe as it is surprising to hear from someone as hot as you,” I explain.

“What can I say? I see a pretty girl and I just have to let her know,” he chuckles.

“I’m not complaining, just a little surprised,” I respond. He flashes a bright smile.

“I’ll just need to make sure to compliment you more often.” With that, he pushes off the wall and starts doing laps again.

While he’s here, I do my best to focus on my actual job. Though, my job is to make sure he’s okay, so...I suppose I was doing my job, anyway. No one else comes into the pool, surprisingly. For a couple hours, it’s just the two of us talking. Danny stops every once in a while and holds up short conversations to me. While he’s swimming, I try not to stare at him too much. Though, there’s not much else to do in here, so my eyes keep getting drawn back to him. Every few laps, he switches swimming styles, sometimes swimming free style and other times backstroke.

The time slowly ticks by and I’m bored out of my mind. Besides having Danny to talk to, nothing else is going on. I sigh softly, leaning back against the lifeguard chair. Against the wall, the clock clicks again and I look up. It reads back 9 o’clock and I stand up, getting Danny’s attention. He stops swimming and looks up at me, treading water. “Pools gotta close,” I tell him. He nods his head once and swims down to the end, climbing out of the water.

Yet again, I have to force my eyes to look elsewhere. The water droplets running down his broad back is so much more sensual than it should be. I jump in surprise when I feel his presence next to me. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I look up into those gorgeous, caramel eyes. “You know...I’ve been thinking of this all night,” he hums softly. I feel his cool hand brush against my face lightly. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. My breath is completely gone and all I can do is nod my head. He flashes a small smile and leans forward, capturing my lips with his.

Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel water dripping onto my skin, but I couldn’t care less. His lips taste slightly salty, most likely from the chlorine, but I don’t mind it. His hands are resting against my hips, kneading the skin. When he pulls away, I try to lean up and chase his lips. He just chuckles at me. “Darling...if you want this to go any further, I suggest we move to the locker room,” he says softly. My mind is so fuzzy that it takes me a few seconds to realize what he means. Then, it dawns on me. We’ve been making out in the middle of the indoor swimming area.

Looking over towards the locker room, I bite my lip. Do I want this to to further? There’s only once place it could go. Plus, I barely know him. I look back at Danny and immediately my mind goes blank again. *How* can he be so gorgeous?! All thoughts leave my head and I take Danny’s hand in mine, leading him towards the men’s locker room.

Calmly, I push open the door and head inside. Danny follows after me, letting the door shut behind him. Suddenly, I feel his hand start shaking slightly. Looking over my shoulder, I see Danny shivering slightly. “Are you okay?” I ask in shock. He laughs lightly, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I’m alright. The locker room is just cold,” he tells me. It’s only then that I remember that he hasn’t even dried off yet. I immediately let go of his hand and he walks over to the lockers. He opens one up and pulls out a towel, drying off his hair and then the rest of his body.

For a little while, I just watch him dry off. When he’s on, he sets the towel down on the wooden bench in the middle of the room. He opens his arms up to me and I walk up to him. I wrap my arms around his neck again and he pulls me into another kiss. This kiss is more sweet and soft than the last one. “Do you still wanna do this?” He asks softly. I nod my head and twist my fingers into his hair, but he shakes his head.

“Ah, ah. Use your words.” I sigh softly, looking into his eyes again.

“Yes, Danny, I want to do this,” I reassure him. He smile softly and starts to press kisses across my jaw and neck. I lean my head back, giving him more room to work with.

When I feel his kisses start drifting down more, I take my fingers out of his hair and pull down the straps of my top. Danny pulls down the other strap and helps me pull the fop off. When it hits the ground, he hums lightly, pressing more kisses to the tops of my breasts. I sigh softly, leaning back against the lockers. When he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, I gasp softly. Danny takes his time, moving back and forth between my nipples and leaving small hickies on my breasts. I tug lightly at his hair, getting more and more frustrated. “Danny, please do something,” I whine. He chuckles and nips lightly at my nipple before he starts moving down again.

Smoothly, he kneels down and continues pressing kisses down my body. But, as much as I want him to continue, I’m already overly frustrated. I groan in frustration and pull him to his feet again. “Danny, I swear to God, if you don’t do something, I might die,” I complain.

“Oh, someone’s demanding,” he chuckles darkly. I narrow my eyes at him, taking deep breaths. However, before I can open my mouth again, he snaps the elastic of my swimsuit against my hip. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to wait much longer.” He tugs my swimsuit bottoms down and they fall to the ground, joining my top. Now I’m completely bare in front of him.

Normally, this would make me feel a bit self-conscious. But, right now my mind is too focused on him. I help Danny tug down his shorts and they join my small pile of clothes. My eyes are immediately drawn to his hard cock, but Danny lifts my chin up lightly. We make eye contact again and he smirks at me. I’m pulled onto his chest, but we don’t break eye contact. Danny takes one of his hands and rubs his cock between my folds, collecting the essence there. Then, he lines himself at my hole.

As he pushes into me, I feel a slight stinging. I hiss at the feeling and he immediately stops, but I shake my head. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Don’t stop,” I tell him, my voice faltering a little. He continues pushing into me and I take breaths, raking my nails down his back. Danny groans at the feeling, but doesn’t stop until he bottoms out. When he’s completely inside me, he holds me tightly to his chest and allows me to adjust for a little bit. I take deep breaths, trying to relax my body.

Once I’ve relaxed a little bit, Danny presses me up against the lockers again. I told tightly to his shoulders as he pulls out, then snaps his hips back in. When he snaps his hips, I’m pushed up the locker a little further. He slowly begins to build a rhythm and I hold on tight, slowly starting to feel the pleasure take over. I twist my fingers into his hair, leaning my head back against the locker. “F-Fuck, Danny,” I mutter softly, panting.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. Is this your first?” He groans. I shake my head, my eyes screwed up.

“N-No, just...it’s been a while,” I pant, my nails digging into his shoulders.

Over and over, Danny snaps his hips into me. As he pulls out, he rubs against the spot within me that even I can’t hit. I moan loudly, not even caring that anyone could walk in at any moment. The exhilaration and fast pace pushes me to the edge very quickly. I rake my nails down Danny’s back again, moaning. “D-Danny, I’m gonna come,” I moan.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he pants. At his words, I fall over the edge and clench around him. The feel of euphoria floods my veins as my orgasm hits me hard.

Just as I’m coming down, I feel Danny pull out. He pumps his cock in front of me for a few seconds, then he spills over his hand and onto my lower stomach. He head is thrown back as he moans loudly, letting the pleasure run through him. His hair is sticking slightly to his sweaty forehead and I smile softly, brushing his hair off his forehead.

For a few seconds, we both catch our breaths. Danny steps away and comes back a second later with a paper towel. He wipes his cum off of my stomach and throws the towel away, then we both start dressing again. There’s silence between us and my thoughts are yelling that this was stupid. He’s probably gonna leave us now and never talk to us again. I pull on my swimsuit before turning and starting to leave. However, before I walk off, Danny grabs my wrist. “Where are you going? I thought the pool closed,” he says. I nod my lightly.

“Uh, yeah, but...I still need to lock up,” I remind him.

“Oh. Is it okay if I wait with you? I wanna walk you back to your dorm.”

As soon as he says that, my heart swells. That is actually really sweet. A huge smile spreads across my face. “Yeah, Danny, of course. I don’t mind,” I giggle lightly. He flashes me a bright smile and we head back into the pool area, locking up. When I’m done locking up, I throw my clothes on overtop of my swimsuit. I make sure that I have everything before walking back over to Danny. He holds the door for me and we both head back towards main campus.

On the walk back, we exchange phone numbers. We talk a little bit about things like our majors and what we like to do. “You should come to one of my meets,” he offers, looking down at me. I nod my head happily.

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Maybe I can get Will or Nicole to come,” I suggest.

“That would be nice. But, yeah...it would be cool to see you at one of my meets,” he smiles.

Too quickly, I’m back at the main door of my dorm. I pull out my ID and open the door before turning back around. “Text me!” Danny calls. I giggle lightly and wave to him before heading inside. As soon as I’m out of sight, I squeal to myself and do a little happy dance. Wow...that is not how I expected work to go tonight.

#dirty kpop snaps #tiktok fanfic #tiktok #smut #dannyphantom.exe #dannyphantom.exe smut

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tornrose24 · 3 years

Note

Another addition to the RE8 Happy AU:

Transportation to the village can be done by the Duke, since he has a cart and all. Or Ethan can trade the duke something valuable or interesting so the Duke can build him a functioning cart.

To address Alcina’s dislike of men, how about when it is her turn to see Rose, Mia is the one who supervises instead of Ethan (although this does not stop him from worrying very much because he nearly lost his wife once in RE7). Ethan maaaaaaay have snuck into the castle a couple of times just to check, and Alcina has to pretend with every ounce of self control she can muster to pretend she does not notice (but she totally knows).

Heisenberg would totally teach Rose how to swear. Also I imagine he once accidentally static shocked Rose with his poofy hair, causing her to cry, and after that Mia is comforting Rose while Ethan starts screaming bloody murder and straight up starts beating Heisenberg with a metal pole (Or Mia beats him up while Ethan holds Rose). Alcina never let Heisenberg live that one down.

Donna definitely puts on puppet shows to entertain Rose. And has a new doll for Rose every visit, and soon Rose has amassed a collection of varying dolls. Angie likes to play patty cake with Rose, which always makes Rose laugh. Also tea parties are a must.

Moreau was allowed to carry Rose using a crate since they weren’t sure if he could carry Rose without accidentally dropping her in his reservoir. Sometimes she would fall asleep in the crate and Moreau would use a cloth sack as a blanket so she doesn’t get cold.

@xx---locketdragon---xx

Honestly I’m not sure how transportation normally works between the outside world and the village. I’d see The Duke involved, but I think he’d have his own things going on/stuff to do too. If the lords left the village they’d need their own customized modes of transportation (though I can’t imagine Moreau being able to leave if his transformations happen without warning, and I don’t know if he’d be down with just leaving the village for too long).

Yeah, I think Mia would be more welcomed in Castle Dimetrescu (hopefully she was treated alright while in captivity, because whatever DLC you guys get probably won’t be forgiving for her). She won’t worry about being added to Lady D’s wine, but there’s still a slight uneasiness on her end. And it’d get awkward if Alcina finds out about Mia’s involvement with the ‘sort of but not quite fifth sibling’ a few years back.

I could see Ethan doing that, but I think Alcina would eventually snap and kick him out since she’s not always patient. But at least its Rose’s father and not yet another disgusting man-thing with lustful intentions, because THOSE guys aren’t as lucky as Ethan.

Rose learned a few curse words from Heisenberg, and unfortunately for the Winters, the first one she spoke was the dreaded ‘F***’ word. And since neither of them curse around their daughter, it doesn’t take them long to figure out who imparted that knowledge to her.

I’m not sure the full effects of Heisenberg’s power, but him static shocking Rose at some point on accident would make sense. I think it’d be funnier if Mia beat Ethan to the punch and was the one to beat Heisenberg’s ass. Oh, but it’d get better–one of Alcina’s servants was nearby at the time and actually recorded the beat down with her phone to show her Lady in addition to recounting what happened. And after Alcina has a good laugh, she’d look at the servant and says “I will give you a significant raise in your salary if you can find a way to give me a replica of this recording so I can watch it whenever I wish.”

I don’t know if Donna would give Rose too many dolls, since she’d be too small to properly care for them for awhile (and I’m sure those dolls would be expensive for a reason). Plus Ethan might put his foot down at first given what happened last time he ran into any of Donna’s dolls. The idea of Angie herself playing with Rose is adorable, though since Angie is Donna’s special doll, Donna would be cautious with how Rose interacts with Angie. Yes, tea parties are a must. ^_^ The ultimate tea party with the dolls. (I admit a part of me has imagined the monster baby in that scenario too, but I’m not sure if it’d actually work or not if is an actual hallucination).

Moreau would absolutely need something specially designed to keep Rose secure around the water, and it’d need to float if it ended up in the water (actually, maybe she’d need a little life vest and floaties to be safe). Assuming he started hiring workers to help with the reservoir, he’d have some help on hand. (Also, the sack as a blanket is oddly cute).

Also, I just remembered he has a TV and ‘supposedly’ a PS4 if the puppet show holds some canon. And there’s a lot of potential with those in mind, like he’d try to get her to play ‘Marvel vs. Capcom’ or whatever would exist in the Resident Evil universe, but she’s way too little and tries chewing on the controller instead.

#resident evil #resident evil village #what if #four lords and a baby au #rosemary winters #Ethan winters #mia winters #re village spoilers #alcina dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #there's a lot of fun things to imagine #I'd be open to someone turning that 'recording the beatdown for Alcina' into a Alcina/ female!reader fic if asked nicely

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kotosnoozy · 3 years

Text

「fourteen」 chapter 1

"Yuri did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed. I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” Hanks says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.” “O-oh?” Estelle stammers. “Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

On the nature of Yuri's first crush.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first.

Hanks’s fond babbling about Yuri over their extremely well-earned dinner is incredibly revealing about the usually cool-headed leader of their motley crew. The old man proves himself a riveting story-teller, keeping their entire party entertained for hours on end despite the incredibly long and taxing 48 sleepless hours they’ve had.

(‘Though there was almost a permanent sleep in there for some of us,’ Raven finds himself thinking morbidly, before digging his bitten-down nails as deep into his ankles as he can to distract himself)

It feels like the only time any of them stop smiling and laughing is to take another mouthful from their bowls of curry, piled high from the seemingly endless and eternal pots of the stuff in the knight’s mess hall (or in Rita’s case, to test out another formula against the system Alexei’s locked the princess into - luckless so far, but she’s yet to lose determination).

Hanks has provided all sorts of anecdotes: the adventures of a baby Yuri who had just learned to walk, quicker to his feet than Flynn but still only babbling in response to the younger’s full fledged scolding - their dynamic had formed incredibly early on, it seemed; fond recollections of helping him to learn to bind properly, their first real bonding experience that had endeared them to each other as adoptive-grandfather-and-grandson; prideful recounts of Yuri’s development from childhood cynophobia into a renowned dog-lover, of all the other little things Yuri had been scared of as a child and grown out of in time (and those he hadn’t - Raven makes a few mental notes for later reference); all the fights Yuri and Flynn had gotten into over the years, and the brief interlude where they had dated in their teens (‘If anything,’ he laughs, ‘the bickering became even more frequent at that point - thank heavens they didn’t last!’); and of course, everyone’s old favourite - that one time 2 years ago when he’d thrown Adecor into the river on tax day.

Raven’s heard that one on a number of occasions from all four of the people who’d been present when it occurred - it somehow never gets any less funny.

While most of Brave Vesperia and it's honorary members are thrilled to learn more about their favourite rebel, Yuri himself is less than happy about Hanks laying out his life story for everyone to see. It's plain on his face - the grimace of a man who appreciates how much his parents love him but would really prefer they didn't tell his date about the time he streaked naked through the town and peed in a fountain at 5 years old. His embarrassment is palpable, a pink glow to his ears that slowly spreads to his cheeks the longer and more intimate Hanks’ stories become.

It’s as he brings up Yuri’s childhood dream of joining the knights so he could sweep a princess off her feet, pointedly winking in Estelle’s direction, that their so-called fearless leader bolts to his feet. He spins on his heel, making a beeline to the other side of the room, and plonks himself violently between a bewildered Adecor and Boccos, immediately thrown from their confusion into annoyance as Yuri’s food slops all over both of them.

His previous dining companions merely snicker in his wake, Hanks chuckling fondly.

“He’s always been so easily riled, that boy. If this is how flustered he gets over just you lot hearing all this then I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when he finally shacks up with someone.’

“Wait, but didn’t you say he dated Flynn when they were younger?” Karol asks, head cocking to one side.

“Well between you, me and our gatepost friends here,” the old man says, leaning in - they all follow suit, as Hanks’ eyes pointedly glance over to Flynn, “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings if he hasn’t realised, but I always got the impression that Yuri was far less invested in their relationship than Flynn. It was Flynn who asked him out, after all.”

“My, that does surprise me. Yuri’s always seemed like he’d be the more proactive of the two when it comes to romance.” Judy muses.

Hanks raises his eyebrows, thin lips twisting into an uneasy frown.

“Wait a minute,” Rita says, leaning even further forward. “You’re not saying Yuri never had feelings for him are you?”

He winces, gaze averting. Raven feels his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“They’ve always loved each other, of course. But the tone of that love seems to differ between them. Their relationship was what happened when they tried to figure that out, it seems, but ultimately…”

“They just weren’t compatible as partners of that type?”

“Right.” he nods to Estelle. “In all honesty, Yuri might give off the air of someone with considerable relationship experience, but it’s Flynn who attracts more attention. And seems more interested in others in turn.”

Raven finds his gaze wandering between the two in question - Flynn has managed to find himself eating amidst a small crowd, knights and lower quarter folks alike, all of them doting on him and telling him stories, and him listening attentively to each of them in turn. Yuri, meanwhile is… wrestling with all three of the ex-Schwann Brigade’s most prominent knights simultaneously. Astounding.

“Yeah that tracks.” he finds himself murmuring, nails scratching through the chest hair that rises above the collar of his shirt. Even if Flynn wasn’t the most eager to please others between the two, the young man radiates a natural charm that draws others to him like a moth to a flame - it’s hard to forget how he was upstaged the time he took him drinking in Dahngrest. Yuri, meanwhile, has a proclivity for trouble and a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his wit. While endearing, he can’t imagine it’s the most efficient for pursuing new connections - even if he’s managed to attract all of the motley crew Raven’s currently sat with.

“So Flynn’s a secret ladies’ man and Yuri, despite all the pomp and swagger, has absolutely no game?” Rita snickers, casting a wry look across the room at Yuri that he’s too distracted to notice.

“Well I don’t know about that. Flynn’s a man’s man if nothing else, never shown interest in women to my knowledge. But… I don’t think Yuri’s ever actually been interested in dating , full stop.”

“No way, really?!” Karol barks. The exclamation draws the attention of the groups sat closest to them, even Flynn, momentarily, before they go busily back to their meals. Flynn’s expression as he looks at them is pondering, almost puppy-like, and Karol’s panic is practically visible as they watch him seemingly wrestle with whether to come over and see what the fuss is about. Then the woman at his side taps a hand to his elbow gently, and his manners win out - she successfully steals his attention back around, all of his interest in their discussion completely forgotten.

“Well. It certainly seems that way anyway. I remember him asking me, back when they dated, how he would know if his feelings for someone were romantic. He didn’t seem to understand my answer very well."

“That’s unexpected. I suppose my advances have all been vain!” Patty whines. Raven finds himself snickering - whether Patty’s affections are genuine or not is one mystery he's yet to solve, but her playing it up is never any less entertaining or fun to tease.

“Though now that I think about it… he did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed.”

Patty surges forward onto her hands and knees, scrambling to get in Hanks’ face. Surprisingly, he’s not that caught off guard - perhaps used to it from Yuri’s exuberance as a child, or that other kid from the lower quarter who’s off chasing Repede on the far side of the room.

“I need all the details, matey! Don’t spare a single one!”

Hanks chuckles.

“I’m very sorry young lady, but he didn’t tell me all that much! I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.”

“O-oh?” Estelle stammers.

“Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

“My my! That’s quite the considerable age gap.” Judy coos, tone teasing in spite of Yuri’s absence. She turns over to look at him, sitting atop a pile of knights and triumphantly tucking into a second of four bowls (spoils of war, Raven would wager) - they all do, in fact.

“Kid’s got taste at least. Nothin’ quite like the mature allure of an older lady~'' Raven sing-songs, half-joking. Rita jabs him in the side harshly.

“Shut up old man-- you said you thought it was Estelle he had a crush on right? So are you saying this is recent? ”

It’s like a switch flips in all of their heads simultaneously. Faces filled with shock whip to look at Hanks, who sits sheepishly clutching his bowl.

“Whoops. Might’ve let a little too much information slip on that one. I was probably meant to keep that detail private…”

“Oh my go--”

Rita slaps a hand over Karol’s mouth before his shriek draws too many eyes over. They all meet each other's' gaze one by one - Yuri's crushing on someone for the first time ever at this exact moment - before turning to look back at Yuri again. He’s mid-mouthful, spoon clutched in his hand like a shovel and sauce dripping down his chin, as he turns to survey his surroundings and catches their eyes.

“What?” he chokes out around his mouthful, just audible over the bustle of the rest of the room. He must see the sheer shock on their faces, as concern starts to cross his face and his gaze wanders to Hanks. “Wait, what did you tell them, old man?”

Hanks chooses that exact moment to get up, incredibly swiftly for a man his age.

“Well, thank you all for keeping me company, kids, but I must be off to… check on other people in… other parts of the castle. Right. Goodbye.”

The speed at which he heads for the door is quite remarkable - Yuri barely manages to scramble off his knight-pile-cum-throne before he’s gone from sight, and presumably halfway down the corridor before Yuri makes it out of the room after him.

It’s a shock, that much is certain. Raven hadn’t thought Yuri would be interested in older women - or people he supposes, he’s never really shown any inclination to anyone before in a romantic sense, so certainly not any specific gender. He’d never much struck him as the type.

But then he hadn’t struck him as the type to be interested in any type of relationship until this curveball of a conversation had come along. So hey, why not. If Yuri was into older people, he certainly wasn’t intending to torment him about it. Other than maybe one opportunely timed quip.

Honestly, he really hadn’t thought much about it at first.

But then the kids throw their own curveball.

“I can’t believe Yuri likes someone so much older than him!! Like, I guess I get the appeal of someone a little older than you for like… security or something, I dunno. But man, 14 years!!” Karol exclaims, as quietly as he can for his excitement. “I wonder if we know who it is.”

Rita barks a laugh, catching a distracted Patty off-guard. She begins anew whatever calculations she’d been making on her fingers as Rita shrugs exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s some big-boobed motherly-figure in the lower quarter or something.”

“Well if all he wanted was big boobs and a nurturing personality then I’ve been here this whole time, all he had to do was ask!” Judith sighs, sly smirk giving away her lack of sincerity.

“Hey,” Patty pipes up suddenly, drawing their attention. “Isn’t Raven about 14 years older than Yuri?”

He feels the cogs in his brain whirr to a stop.

Suddenly, he is thinking very much about it.

“Oh yeah!” he hears Karol chirp. No doubt he checks the calculations on his own fingers, but Raven doesn’t register it if so, hard as he’s trying just to think at all. “Haha, that’s a weird coincidence!”

Estelle giggles.

“Imagine if it was Raven he had a thing for!”

He feels their eyes on him instantly, but it takes a moment for his brain to catch up. His own eyes must be wide as saucers, as they look at him, the mirth starting to fall from Estelle’s expression - he forces a ridiculous grin to his face.

“Haha, yeah imagine that! Someone like Yuri fallin’ for a washed up old fart like me!” he cackles, voice strained even to his own ears. “That’d be ridiculous!!”

The kids buy it though, Karol laughing along before pulling the others back into their debate about exactly who the mystery object of Yuri’s affections could be. It’s Estelle whose gaze lingers on him, just a moment or two longer, as the facade starts to crack, but she must see it - the silent plea in his eyes - as she turns back to the others not a moment later.

If anyone notices that Raven is mentally tapped out until they all go their separate ways for the night, then they’re at least polite enough not to mention it.

⇷-------------

Raven is a strange one.

This is Yuri’s third time meeting the man (or fourth, if the time Rita threatened to set him alight in Capua Torim counts as an actual encounter) and in all honesty, it’s hard to get a read on him past him being very obviously shady.

He seems as though he might be someone of consequence, if the quality of information he so casually throws like bones to random guards is actually as quality as he would have them believe. Either way he’s certainly silver-tongued, plying the others in Yuri’s makeshift travelling party into submission fairly easily despite their initial apprehension about him. Karol and Estelle are charmed by him, by his goofy antics if not the lolloping drawl of his accent, though they make no effort to hide the fact that they find him fishy. While Rita is far less taken, she seems to be placated by him taking her punishments, both fire and fists, like a champ.

The charm isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye though. He skulks at the back of the group, heavy footed and posture slouched. His clothes all seem far too big for him, obscuring the shape of his body in a way Yuri supposes is meant to make him seem unassuming, and he’s already displayed a number of habits that he knows would make any upper quarter noble’s toes curl - picking at his ears and the skin around his nails, before chewing at the nails themselves.

He has to admit though, he’s quite handsome in the face beneath the mess of dusty brown hair. Not in the same way as Flynn, with his big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, the very picture of a storybook knight. His crooked nose, chapped lips, stubbly chin and hollow cheeks certainly make for a more unconventional type of attractive, but they all come together to create a certain appeal. The brightness of his eyes certainly helps too.

Also the combat prowess. Fighting ability is always an attractive quality in Yuri’s opinion, but especially in a travelling companion.

For a self-professed old man, Raven’s far more nimble than Yuri had expected. Sure, he’d made quite the getaway back in Capua Nor after he’d sold them out, but he’d assumed that’d been a one-off desperate sprint, not the norm. Apparently he was wrong, based on the nimble footwork he employs to dart out of the way of a particularly feisty howler. It doesn’t escape his notice how Karol nearly falls flat on his ass when Raven rushes past him and twists himself at an insane angle to fire an arrow across the way, skewering a beetle between its mandibles before it can take a bite out of Estelle.

“Woah, Raven!! Yuri, you’ve got some serious competition for your acrobatics now!!”

The bark of laughter leaves his throat unwittingly.

“I didn’t realise there even was a competition!”

He sees Rita roll her eyes as she releases a torrent of water behind her, clearly disbelieving him and with good reason; he’s never been one to back down from a potential competition. He breaks away from the corner of the forest floor he’s been holding down, using the momentum to propel himself up and over Raven, carrying it into his sword as he flips to crash it down into the skull of another monster. Raven whistles appreciatively as it disappears into dust.

“Not bad, young ‘un!”

He throws a smirk over his shoulder, ego swelling at the genuine awe on Raven’s face.

“How’s about it, old man? First to twenty?”

The awe transforms into a grimace in an instant.

“Ahhh, I dunno about that. Ol’ Raven’s never really been one for competitions, let alone effort. ”

He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’ve got no choice but to fight to get deeper into the forest anyway, right? So why not make a game of it? Not like it’ll actually be any more effort than you were already putting in.”

Raven purses his lips, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares off, deep in thought, the blue-green seemingly increasing in intensity. For all he’s been putting on the act of a court jester, Yuri is certain in that moment that there’s a deep intelligence to the older man; something unspoken, a wisdom beyond his years.

(Not that he knows how old Raven is but. Well, he gets the feeling that while he’s certainly older than he and his travelling companions, he’s not actually pushing middle-aged yet like he makes out)

Fwip!

He comes back to himself to see Raven’s face closer than before, upside down, chin in line with his collarbone. His bow arm (and subsequently the bow itself) is extended past his shoulder, the other loose by his head having just fired. Behind him there’s a thunk. A screech. A pop. And then silence.

“Looks like that’s one ta me~” Raven coos, eyes hooded as he smirks. He rolls his back, lithe and catlike, to stand himself back upright, stretching his arms out until his shoulders crack. For all his complaining about aches and pains so far (extremely numerous for the time they’ve been travelling with him, maybe an hour at most), he certainly doesn’t move as though he has any joint issues.

Despite his shock, he finds himself laughing.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s just as charmed by Raven as the kids are. He’s never made a connection quite like this one; with someone who can go toe to toe with his dry wit, and make it out the other side without being angry with him. Rita had been the closest (since Niren at least, but Yuri prefers to avoid thinking about the only father he ever knew if he can). But while Rita’s great with a back and forth, she’s easily riled, easily flustered. It only takes one slightly wrong jab and she gets stroppy, or else loses all interest in the situation.

Raven, for all his strangeness, has so far matched Yuri every step of the way. They’ve fallen so easily into a steady banter, something of their own personal comedy routine for just the two of them, some form of it present even from their first encounter way back in that jail cell. To have someone who can appreciate his snark, and give it back just as good while they both know it’s all in good fun? He’d never realised just how much he’d appreciate a relationship like that.

So yeah, Raven’s a little suspicious. But as far as Yuri’s concerned, he’s willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt for the strange comfort he gets from their repartee, just so long as he doesn’t do anything too crazy.

He slaps Raven on the shoulder, moving past him to continue deeper into the oversized brush.

“You got me, old man. But don’t you worry, you won’t be holding that lead for long.”

Raven merely cackles in response, wordlessly filing in behind him.

-------------⇸

There’s only one real constant within their travelling party, and that’s that the sleeping arrangements are ever-changing.

It takes a little while for him to notice, though in his defence the first week or so he’s with them is certainly not a typical week. In the more recent days, they’d gotten lucky with inns having enough beds for all of them, but the first few nights had been entirely sleepless in the hustle and bustle of, y’know, stopping a war, taking down the Blood Alliance and colliding with an actual genuine-article ghost ship.

(He’s still not sure what that was all about if he’s being entirely honest, but he’s old and ““wise”” enough by now that he knows there are some things in this world that you simply shouldn’t question)

So it’s Nordopolica where he finds himself bedding down with his new companions for the first time. The constant hustle and bustle of Palestralle’s workers and the fresh colosseum season unfortunately means there isn’t much free in terms of rooms. On the plus side, the three double beds they’re provided are plenty enough space for them all to be able to sleep comfortably; Fomalhaut’s rooms are quite spacious, nothing at all like the army barracks of his youth (though he supposes that should be expected from a city that considers itself something of an entertainment hub).

Raven takes his time ambling in behind everyone else, absently watching how effortlessly Repede transfers his pipe from one side of his toothy maw to the other. Rushing would be pointless, in his opinion, because he can already envision how everyone will double-up. Rita is sure to claim a spot beside the princess, for whose sake she could not be more clearly continuing to travel for despite her protests, and Judy won’t want to get lumped with a snotty (though admittedly quite sweet) brat or some dirty old man she hardly knows - he’s gonna get stuck with the kid, and the two of them can have a very one-sided competition over whose shitty little brain can give them the most nightmares in one night, and Raven will be perfectly content with that, thank you very much.

(It’ll be him who wins that one - hormone-induced nightmares are nothing compared to the horrors your brain can produce when you have blood and a war on your hands)

And then Karol throws him for a loop by tossing his bag semi-gently to the floor before diving into bed after Rita , of all people.

She hardly even makes a fuss. There’s a yelp - what sounds like it could be the start of the protest Raven would expect from such a combination - before she settles almost immediately.

“Just make sure you don’t kick me awake again, got it?” she barks pointedly at him, before rolling to face away from him and promptly cocooning herself in the blanket. He laughs at her, kicking off his shoes and fluffing up his pillow, seemingly content.

Wide-eyed, Raven turns to the girls - surely he can’t be the only one caught off-guard by this, it seems unthinkable for Rita not to put up a fight to sharing with Karol , and there’s an exclamation of surprise right on the tip of his tongue - only to find them claiming the second bed for themselves, Judy helping Estelle to unfasten the complicated buckles of her dress. He bites his words back, head whipping away; much as the image of a pervert works as a brilliant cover to convince the kids of his idiocy, peeping on the possible-crown princess as she gets changed is certainly not a thing he’s ever aspired to.

And so he comes face to face with the final bed. His bed he supposes, strange as it may still be to him. Yuri’s already making himself comfy on the left side, shirt and jacket thrown over the bottom edge of the bed frame. He stretches his arms up and over his head, muscles rippling as he yawns. He catches Raven’s eye as they fall back down, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“Looks like it’s you and me, old man.” he says, patting the sheets next to him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He can feel his own lips quirk to mirror Yuri’s, even as he fights to push down the instinctive panic.

“And here I was hopin’ ta share with my darlin’ Judy!” he whines playfully, flopping down beside him face first in a show of dramatism.

“Sorry, Raven. I just couldn’t miss the chance to cuddle up with Estelle!” comes her voice, sing-songy, from the bed she’s claimed. He can see, as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better situated, that she’s doing exactly that. She’s practically spooning the princess, face buried in short pink locks, and Estelle herself looks the very picture of a tomato (not that he wouldn’t himself with Judith’s considerable… assets pressed against him).

“Well so long as yer not a cuddler yerself, Mr Lowell.” he jokes, rearranging himself onto his back before pulling the duvet up to his chin. For all that they’re in less than ideal circumstances with sharing beds, he’s glad to see Palestralle don’t skimp on the furnishings for their inns - the linen is incredibly soft, smooth against the pads of his fingers, and it’s a smart fabric choice for an inn in so changeable a climate.

Yuri huffs a laugh.

“I think I can hold myself back this once, just for you.” he says, tone laden with sarcasm. He watches Raven with keen eyes as he lounges on his side, head resting in his hand. Raven wonders how he can sleep like that - how his arm doesn’t cramp in the night, doesn’t wake him up in a fit of panic when he can’t move it, breathing shallow until the blood flow returns. He forgets, sometimes, that not everyone enters a blind panic over the little things.

“Why, I'm honoured! Yer benevolence knows no bounds!" he coos back, nose scrunching in amusement. Yuri smiles as he reaches back and pats Repede where he stands by the bed - a silent request to turn off the overhead light. The pooch complies, trotting off with a clack of his pipe between his teeth - Raven’s constantly caught off guard by the dog’s intelligence, the number of strange things Yuri’s managed to teach him (or perhaps that the dog has taught himself? He’s still not fully certain how much of a hand in training him that the young man’s had), and this is certainly another for the list.

“Damn right it doesn’t. Better make sure you show me the respect I deserve.” he says. He meets his eyes again as the blastia clicks off, dousing them in darkness. They crinkle with mirth, the abyss within softening even more as Karol giggles at their antics on the other side of the room.

They find themselves in a staring contest, of sorts. Or maybe closer to a game of chicken? He’s sure Yuri sees it that way at least, if his unblinking gaze is anything to go by. For him on the other hand it’s… something else. What exactly he can’t say. He’s just... transfixed .

Because Yuri’s plenty handsome on his own - perhaps even beautiful, if that’s more your thing. Raven’s already seen him turn a great many heads in the short time they’ve been together, including both the illustrious head of Fortune’s Market and the great forgotten war hero himself. Maybe he’d even let himself cast an admiring glance his way, if he hadn’t picked specifically womaniser for Raven’s bullshit cover-up trait.

But when the sea-breeze blows gently, kicking up the curtains, and the moonlight shines into the room, it catches him just so. The glow is ethereal, transformative, and it brings out the hidden flecks of golden brown in the depths of Yuri’s eyes, spins the silk of his dark hair almost chestnut. And just for a moment, he can trick himself into believing she’s here, the Canary herself, laid opposite him with a fond teasing smile, and oh god the hole where his heart used to be aches to reach out and touch her--

But for all her perfections, Casey’s eyes had never glowed quite like that had they? Never stared directly into his soul, made him almost want to bury into her arms and let her shoulder his every burden for him. Her kindness had inspired, but never been so bottomless that he wanted to abuse it, had never come off her in waves to the point it was visible in every little line of her face despite any grandstanding. Never so gentle to the broken that he could almost convince himself that he doesn’t need to run, that if he’s seen he’ll be accepted wholly, flaws and sins and all.

Not like Yuri. Not at all like Yuri.

The curtain drops, or else the clouds must roll in overhead. Either way, the moonlight vanishes, and with it goes the last vestiges of the illusion.

“Aye-aye, sir.” he all but murmurs, his voice tighter than just moments ago. He hopes, as Yuri’s face twists in concern, that his own face doesn’t give away the turmoil of his heart.

“You alright, old man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Hah, maybe I have!” he laughs, but it sounds notably hollow even to him. Still, he doesn’t break eye-contact as Yuri seems to peer directly into him, seemingly scanning his every thought and feeling, hope and dream.

The last thing he sees as he slips into sleep is the gentle embrace of the abyss. While his dreams are plagued by nightmares, a broken body bleeding out in the sand, he finds it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in years.

-------------⇸

The town is silent, other than the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the trees and the crunch of the dirt path beneath his feet.

They’ve been here all day, but Yuri’s not sure he’s used to how incredibly peaceful Yormgen is yet. He’s not sure he ever will be, either. He’s used to the bustle of the city, the shouting of vendors and newsies in Zaphias’s main market as carts laden with goods and people roll by. It feels like there’s always a dog barking, a clock chiming, a baby crying in the city, and the background noise helps him to switch his brain off in a way that the country never can.

Halure had been quiet to him - the calm atmosphere of the day, the slowness of shop transactions and conversation, had already been a lot, but for there to be a perfect stillness as night fell rather than an increase in bustle as drinkers started to take to the town had been the real whiplash. Despite a relatively large population, the town didn’t have a single dedicated bar to its name, and it’d thrown Yuri for far more of a loop than he’d ever expected.

Yormgen is even stranger. There must be all of fourteen people in this entire town, he thinks, and every single one of them vanished into their houses the moment the sun started to set. The only conversation he's heard that he hasn’t been directly involved in since Duke showed up and smashed their apatheia (he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still annoyed about that) is that of his own travelling companions bickering over what to make for dinner with their limited ingredients as he stepped away to find their mysterious disappearing old man.

Raven took the loss of the crystal hard. Or at least, Yuri thinks he did. He certainly vanished quickly when they decided to wait around while Rita took some time to investigate. He’d been right next to him one second and then gone the next, before they’d had a chance to agree to meet back up for dinner at sundown. With no one having seen him all day since to let him know, it’d fallen on his shoulders to hunt him down and drag him back. Raven might’ve been plenty energetic on their first trip through the desert, but they all know better than to let him make the return journey on an empty stomach. The man eats like a bird at the best of times - he really can’t afford to be doing that now.

He’d grumbled and whined about it being him who had to go find him, but in all honesty he’s kind of pleased. He’s found himself surprisingly worried about the old man - this is the first time since they’ve started officially travelling together that he’s pulled a disappearing act. Normally it’s hard to get him to shut up for more than 20 minutes at a time, so the better part of a day without seeing or hearing from him at all is completely unheard of. If his silence doesn’t mean he’s curled up and died somewhere, then Yuri knows that he’s the only one of their party who stands any chance of fetching him with both of them left unscathed.

He’s explored the residential side of the town (if it can truly be called that) extensively already throughout the day. Not that it was hard to do - other than the homes of locals that are a bit further out, the town proper is essentially three big buildings and a deck. He’d quickly concluded that there were very few places to hide a man with a proclivity for such a bright shade of purple amongst the muted timber and the gentle green of the grass. The only conclusion he can come to is that Raven must’ve headed to the other side of town, to the sea of flowers that makes his sinuses itch just looking in their direction.

For all he knows they’ll give him a headache, the flowers are incredibly pretty. It had been the bushes of pink and blue trumpets that had caught his attention in the midday, as Estelle had run over to them in delight and plucked a few. She’d fashioned a few little fascinators, of sorts (a skill she’d learned in the finishing school she had no doubt been forced to attend as the potential future Empress), and spent the better part of an hour lacing them into everyone’s hair. If he looks back over his shoulder, he knows he’ll see Judith wearing the pink blossoms - rhododendron, Estelle had called them - with pride, while Karol nervously fidgets with his own, worried they’ll fall out, ruining the princess’s hard work.

Now, however, in the amber light of the sunset, it’s the flower tunnel that draws his eye. Not that he hadn’t noticed it before - it’s impossible to miss, vibrant as it is. But he’s never been the biggest fan of yellow, always a little bright for his tastes. The way the light bounces off the thousands of little flowers is certainly eye-catching though, setting them in such a way that their radiance is somehow easier on the eye. They’re impossible to look away from as he draws closer, some emotion he’s unused to, couldn’t possibly name, stirring in his chest. The chains dance gently in the breeze, bouncing against each other like a bead curtain, and something about it makes him nostalgic for the familiarity of the Lower Quarter.

Then he spots him, further in, beneath the boughs. His hand rests comfortably on the handle of the knife he keeps at his waist, the other left to the mercy of the breeze as he stares up amidst the blossoms. They bathe him in their glow, mingling with the dying rays of the sun, casting him almost golden . He’s mesmerised by the sight himself, it seems, completely off-guard for the first time in the couple of months Yuri’s known him - for all he plays the fool, Yuri would be an even bigger one not to realise how keenly Raven follows the every movement of all those around him.

But right now, he seems… defenceless. Open. Fragile. Unaware that a world aside from him and the sea of flowers even exists. He could do whatever he wanted to Raven in this moment, he thinks, and he just knows the man would be equally surprised by anything. Something about that knowledge, this vision makes his chest feel light, almost airy.

The image sears itself into his mind, unbidden, and he knows instantly. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never erase it.

“Laburnum.”

He startles as Raven speaks. Perhaps he hadn’t been as unaware as he’d thought.

“Huh?” he grunts dumbly.

“These flowers. They call ‘em Laburnum. Or golden rain in some parts.” he says, flicking his eyes (almost the vibrant green of dense aer with the glow) over to acknowledge Yuri. He goes quickly back to gazing upwards, almost reverent. “Pretty apt.”

Yuri finds himself eyeing the flowers again as he moves closer. They’re strangely shaped, the blooms, unlike any he’s seen before. The petals curl back and in on themselves, clustered closely together in a way that hides the little shock of red in their centres. Stranger still are the buds, gently curved in a way that reminds him of the plantains he’d seen in Dahngrest’s market.

From the right angle, they could almost look like birds in flight, or indeed a sudden burst of rainfall.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Raven’s lips quirk into a smile. His eyebrows set into something pensive, wistful even.

“They’re pretty rare these days. Didn’t think I’d ever get to see a single tree with my own eyes, never mind a whole grove…”

The melancholy that’s settled over him like a veil is impossible to ignore, his voice distant as though transported to another time. There’s a pressure at the base of Yuri’s throat as he watches him, finds himself wanting to do… something. He’s not sure what. Just anything to pull him from his reverie. But of course, in the end all he really knows is sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as the type to know about flowers.”

It seems to work somewhat. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised - he and Raven have always been strangely in sync.

“Wouldn’t be much good with the ladies if I didn’t know about little things like flowers, now would I?” he says, finally turning to face Yuri more fully. His eyes soften with mischief, and yet still seem tight with… well if Yuri had to put a name to it, he’d wager it was grief .

A half-joke then; his flower knowledge almost certainly learned on behalf of one lady, though he’d wager not women generally at all. After all, for all he seemed to enjoy playing the womaniser, his actions often seemed chosen to purposefully push them away if anything.

Yuri rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. Raven smiles. It gets closer to meeting his eyes than he expected it to.

“I can’t imagine just throwing their names around is especially impressive. Seems more like the absolute bare minimum.” he says, hand coming to rest on a cocked hip. Raven’s smile widens, coaxed out of his shell somewhat by the familiar teasing routine.

“Ah, but whoever said I only knew their names?”

His eyebrows raise instinctively. To know flowers’ names is one thing, but any other details aren’t usually common knowledge; their language, how to arrange them, the best methodology for their care all usually things known solely by the upper echelons of society, or else those with enough money in their back pockets to take a chance on starting a related career.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off, fixing Raven with a sceptical look. The old man’s face splits into a wide grin, hand coming up to flash a peace sign. Dork, his thinks impulsively as he huffs a laugh, surprised at the fond tone the word takes in his mind. Then quick as the cheer arrives it drops again, leaving the previous melancholic half-smile splayed across Raven’s face.

“These wouldn’t be much good in a bouquet though, pretty as they are. If bein’ deadly poisonous wasn’t enough, they’re usually used as a symbol of the forsaken. ” he muses, the last word spat like something dirty from his mouth.

“Who the hell would look at these and decide that? ” Yuri barks out. His expression must look as bewildered as he feels - Raven laughs at him, gentle but genuine.

“Yeah, it seems like a lot, right?” he says. His gaze drifts away from Yuri’s, losing focus and staring past him, through his shoulder. “She always liked them though, in spite of that.”

“...She?” he asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to sound eager, too nosey. Doesn’t want to push when the old man is this fragile. But he can’t help his curiosity - this is the first he’s mentioned of his past, the first clue to piecing together the admittedly fascinating mystery that is Raven. The man himself seems to realise it too, that with just one sentence he’s revealed a huge part of himself he hasn’t previously. Graciously, he doesn’t scramble to hide it away as Yuri might’ve expected.

“Ah. Old friend.” he says softly, as though divulging a secret. “She’s… gone now. But she was always a big fan of flowers. These weren’t her favourite but. She liked ‘em plenty.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Not like you to spill your past out in the open like this, old man.”

It takes all of his mental strength not to kick himself as Raven’s expression shutters, the nostalgia, longing , vanishing from his face in favour of something more carefully guarded. His eyes though, expressive as they are, can’t hide the pain.

“Ah. I suppose they got me feelin’ a little nostalgic. Forgive me.”

The silence stretches out between them for miles and miles as he watches Raven, Raven in turn watching the dancing laburnum above his head. His eyes flicker from bloom to bloom, as though cataloguing each one carefully, trying to commit their shape, their profile to memory. Yuri finds his eyes drawn to his lips as they purse, a gentle pout taut in a manner that gives away the nervous chewing of the inside of his mouth. His thick eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he blinks, and Yuri hates the silence of the country, because it’s weird sappy shit like this that the bustle of the city helps him to avoid thinking about.

Raven’s a lot like these flowers , is the thought that springs to his mind, unprompted. And it’s ridiculous really. Completely nonsensical. The kind of thing Karol might come out with on a night where he’s overtired, that they’d all tease him for mercilessly until they pass out. But there’s nothing to distract him from it - he’s surrounded by the evidence, and the more he tries to ignore it the more sense it seems to make to him. The two parts of his brain war with each other, unrelenting, and he can feel the push and pull starting to show on his face.

Then a single blossom falls from the canopy above. It lands perfectly atop Raven’s bangs, perched there like a peepit in a tree, and he can’t fight the analogy anymore - Raven certainly looks forsaken, in that instant, the pain swimming in his eyes. And yet usually so bright and cheery, like the flower’s vibrant colouring, almost desperate for attention as he jokes around-- and then pushing people away, like a poison, when they try to get close. An exterior crafted to make you underestimate him, and yet a hidden strength, swift and deadly on the battlefield. A sunny disposition that washes over you like a summer rain, calming and refreshing.

He’s not sure anymore if the golden glow bouncing off Raven’s skin is from the flowers, or just simply the man himself.

A light breeze jostles the flower, and it slips from his hair. The strange shape hooks itself onto the crook of his nose and it wedges firmly, even as the wind picks up, cascading more petals down onto them both. Raven either ignores it, or doesn’t notice, his eyes falling closed as he lets nature wash over him.

He steps closer carefully, unthinkingly. He feels as a moth to a flame, though why he couldn’t say. He’s unfamiliar with the stirring in his chest that rises at the sight, doesn’t understand his compulsion to reach out, to touch Raven. To check he’s still solid and there, that he hasn’t been blown away on the currents of the wind like his namesake.

His hand reaches out, plucking the flower from Raven’s face gently. The old man startles instantly, eyes snapping open and meeting Yuri’s as he flicks the blossom to the floor. Raven’s eyes scan over him, looking for answers that he’s not sure he’ll find. Yuri certainly wouldn’t be able to explain if he were to ask. He simply looks between the sunken blue-green, carefully smoothing more fallen petals from Raven’s shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice practically a whisper beneath the howling of the breeze, far gentler than he’d expected it to be, “I think I understand why your friend liked them.”

Raven’s eyebrow cocks, ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he answers, lips quirking into a small smile, something genuine and raw and delicate that he doesn’t recall gracing his face before. “They’ve got a certain charm, I suppose.”

Raven’s breath hitches - he doesn’t hear it, only sees the narrowing of his nostrils, the bobbing of his Adam's apple. His eyes are so round, as the melancholy starts to subside slowly, leaving something inquisitive in his wake. It’s an expression he’s sure he’s seen on Repede before when he was younger, still training, still struggling with learning to sit on command, and it feels strange to compare Raven to a puppy, but it certainly isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to him in the last 24 hours.

It feels like hours before Raven breaks his eyes away, anything raw and gentle immediately traded for bluster and jokes as he ducks his head.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ out with me amidst the flowers anyway?” he asks, voice a little hoarse as his teasing lilt starts to creep back to him. “The others will start to talk if we keep havin’ these secret rendezvous, young man! How scandalous!”

He slaps his hand to his chest, feinting horror at their make-believe tryst. Yuri snorts, socking him lightly in the arm. Ridiculous as his jokes are, he can’t help but be pleased to see him return to some semblance of normalcy.

“I came to get you for dinner, dumbass. After that, you can feel free to go on ahead to Nordopolica.” he says, turning back around to lead the way to the others with a nod of his head.

Raven snickers at his own antics, hurrying to follow after him as he pulls a hurt expression.

“What, you wanna get rid of me so soon?”

“Wrong.” he snorts, head turned pointedly away in an effort to ignore his self-deprecating jokes. “I just wouldn't want you to miss the new moon and your chance to deliver the letter all on our account.”

The beat of silence that follows is just a touch too long for their usual banter. He turns back to Raven, worried momentarily that he’s run off again and he’ll be on a wild goose chase for the rest of the night, only to find him following attentively behind him. He’s looking at Yuri, expression… totally indecipherable to him for once, actually. It’s a rare occasion for him to have no idea what the old man is thinking.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow quirking. Raven simply smiles, wide and catlike.

“Oh, nothin’ important~” he sing-songs, taking over the lead in the moment Yuri pauses. “Honestly, I could do fine without your concern.”

Yuri scowls.

“Wrong again.” he says, moving to keep pace, their back-and-forth continuing until they arrive back at the inn, and the campfire their party has set up.

(He never does figure out what Raven’s expression had meant on that day, but when he finds the small laburnum branch tangled in his hair alongside the rhododendron the next morning, he quietly stows it away in the bottom of Karol’s bag, heart fluttering strangely in his chest)

-------------⇸

The speed at which Mantaic’s locals manage to throw the party together is honestly quite astounding.

The stalls of the inn concourse have cleared their tables of their wares, already starting to accumulate piles of local cuisine - barely an hour since the news of the Flynn Brigade’s arrival started to spread throughout the town, whispers abandoned in favour of joyous cries despite the extreme early hour, and already there’s a feast to rival one for a noble. People of all ages are wide awake and gleeful, even very young children who don’t fully understand what’s happening squealing with joy at seeing their parents’ and older siblings’ excitement.

The princess tries to help where she can (as always) - shakily carrying huge steaming pots to their directed positions, assisting in dragging tables out of homes to line the streets. Were Flynn not so busy tying up loose ends with the stragglers of the Cumore Brigade, Judith’s sure he’d be dancing around her like a mother hen. Instead, Karol and Rita have become his stand-ins, getting roped into helping themselves albeit minus Estelle’s unshakeable enthusiasm.

She’s glad everything turned out okay in the end. It had been with great unease that they’d all drifted off to sleep the night before, distressed at their powerlessness, their lack of time. Battling with the princess’s impulsivity had been hard, especially in the presence of her big round eyes and quivering lips, but a necessary evil. There really wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Judith remains firm in her belief - it would be impossible to rehabilitate a man like Cumore in jail. Even with the combined influence of Flynn and Estelle, the strength of their idealism and naïveté, a man as corrupt as he would never conform to concepts like morals and ethics. He would only change in death.

The man’s fall from grace, while certainly better than allowing him to run amok, does little to satisfy her in all honesty. The townspeople, however, just seem glad to be free of his clutches, regardless of the flaws in the Empire’s justice system. She can’t blame them really - she’s sure she’d feel the same in their shoes, the ever-lingering threat of death by dehydration or being eaten alive finally lifted from their shoulders.

She’s glad for the lifting of the tense air that had settled over their travelling party the night before. That there’s a smile on Estelle’s face again is good too. For the sake of the guild, nothing more , she scolds herself mentally, quashing the leap in her chest as the baby blues smile in her direction.

She finds herself counted as one of the old souls on this occasion; the small group who are extremely pleased for the turn of events and the freedom of the people, but are either too tired or consider themselves too uninvested to actually lend a hand. Raven is a regular to this group, fucked as his sleeping pattern is, and it doesn't surprise her as much as she thought it would that Patty too sits among them.

Yuri sitting back, however, is new.

Something is off with him. Something has been off with him since… well, certainly since their discovery of Cumore's little scheme. He’s never been the most talkative of their group, a man of relatively few words until it comes to snide jibes and teasing, or else rallying speeches to raise morale or call outs for something he perceives to be an injustice.

(She’d say he was self-righteous - but then, by that same line of thinking, isn’t she also?)

His usual quietude has never felt like this though - dense and oppressive like thunderclouds, holding a tension that, if referred to, threatens to strike like lightning, harsh and quick and painful. It’s possible he’d just slept badly, but she doubts it. She and Yuri are painfully alike at the best of times and in this, it seems, they continue to be.

Yes, for Yuri, the biggest champion of justice among them, to still be so tense, so incredibly on edge… It’s extremely telling.

The only one who seems to have noticed Yuri’s torment other than her (and his faithful pooch) is, of course, Raven. It’s no surprise - he’s always kept a close eye on Yuri, in the time she’s known them. She’d heard tell that the Don had taken an interest in Yuri when he’d met him, in a way usually foreign to him in regards to newcomers. Normally it would be years - years of hard work, of craft and contributions in the name of the guilds, for the man to so much as glance in your direction, let alone learn your name (understandably so for so busy and powerful a man). Yet Yuri had waltzed in and garnered his full attention in the space of a few hours, at best.

That Raven has clearly been instructed to stake him out, in addition to his apatheia hunt, feels natural. Less so is a good chunk of what he actually seems to be observing about Yuri - she’s sure the Don would much rather see a report on his fighting capabilities, his disposition, the flexibility of his morality in a pinch, than whatever he’s gleaning by staring at his back when he takes his shirt off, or watching the flow of his hair in the desert breeze.

(That is, however, a report she would quite like to read, if for nothing more than watching the burn of Raven’s ears at the request)

This morning, however, the eye he keeps on him is careful. Though the ever-present catlike smirk that plays over his lips remains, there’s something considering to his gaze - a scheme in the works but not those of his usual calibre. Nothing designed to rile Rita, fluster Estelle or make the kids laugh (though she’s sure if he can tie his usual goals into whatever he’s concocting then he certainly won’t shy away at the chance).

If she had to guess at his intentions, she’d have thought--

The blaring of a horn throws her suddenly from her train of thought - the celebrations are brought instantly into full swing by a makeshift band of passing guildsmen throwing their own contributions into the mix. Judith doesn’t consider herself a big listener of music, in all honesty, but she’d be hard pressed not to recognise the juxtaposed staccatos and legatos characteristic of Dahngrestian swing - while lesser known within Empire towns like this one, the style is famous the world over.

She hasn’t had many opportunities to join in with the festivities the guilds are known for throwing, where dancers step and twirl faster than the barkeeps can pour drinks (and really, isn’t that an impressive thought, considering the drinking culture in Dahngrest?) She’s bore witness to their local dancing customs only once or twice, and never within the heart of the city itself, and she knows with certainty that while her footwork on the battlefield might be immaculate, she has two left feet for dancing - would certainly never dare to attempt swing. She has great sympathy for the townsfolk who, while enraptured by the melody, feet tapping along jovially, seem as though they don’t know quite what to do with it.

Altosk’s second, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He barks a delighted laugh that startles Patty, almost jostling her from the table she’s perched upon, and finally momentarily draws Yuri from his reverie. She watches, amused, as he throws Yuri’s grumpy, inquisitive look a wink before springing to his feet.

“Hey, kid!” he calls, flagging Karol down as he heads to the middle of the concourse. Their illustrious guild master looks up from the mabo curry bun he’s attempting to swallow whole, wide-eyed. Raven grins, crooked and gummy in a way she’s come to associate with his mischief.

“Why don’t we show these lovely folks how it’s done, as thanks for their hospitality?”

Karol is practically vibrating at the concept. In a flash he’s pulling off his gloves and whipping his bag over his head, dumping the pile in Rita’s lap (eliciting, of course, an incredibly over the top yelp of annoyance). He scarfs down the remnants of the bun as he hops over the table he’s sat at, scampering over to Raven in a manner that does nothing to hide his enthusiasm.

“You better not stand all over my feet, Raven!” he calls as he draws closer, face pulling into a pout that doesn’t quite ring true. The noise Raven makes in response is rather like that of a strangled cat.

“The nerve o’ kids these days!” he bemoans, pinching his sinuses with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know yours truly is the pride of Altosk! Ya won’t find a better dancer in all o’ Dahngrest, not even the Don himself!”

“Uhu, suuuure. ” Karol drawls, disbelieving, as he comes to a stop by his side.

It’s as he does that Raven ducks his head close to the boy, hand a shield to cover whatever he says. His words are inaudible, but if Karol’s terrible attempts at hiding his furtive glances in Yuri’s direction are anything to go by, Judith would have to guess it’s something about whatever Raven’s scheming for Brave Vesperia’s second.

The band seems to catch wind of their plans, slowing the jaunty tune down to allow the two to begin. Karol dusts his hands off on his trousers bashfully, ridding himself of any remnants of curry, before taking Raven’s hand in his. Their movements start off slow and creeping, almost unnatural to watch, but it quickly becomes apparent to her that they’re motions meant to teach rather than for actual dancing - an enunciated display of footwork for the surrounding beginners as they take their time to get a feel for each other as dance partners.

And then, Raven taking Karol’s waist, they begin in earnest. Movements still slow, but now fluid as water, they begin to turn around one another in the style she vaguely recognises, and while she knows nothing about dancing, it’s clear that they’re extremely good. They match each other's timing perfectly, not a step out of place, and she could believe they were gliding if not for the dust their footsteps kick up.

Karol is good, of course, especially for a kid of his age (she wonders idly if he might’ve had a brief foray in a dancing guild, prior to joining the Hunting Blades), but Raven is really something else. She’s never seen a man able to move his hips in such a way, sashaying in a way that’s frankly a little hypnotising - if she thought he were truly interested in her, then this’d definitely be enough to make her begin to consider his earlier flirtations more seriously. It’s frankly criminal, she thinks, that his trousers and jacket do so much to obscure his ass.

As they become more comfortable, they begin to ramp it up a little - they take it in turns to twirl one another, alternating between wide sweeping arcs, Raven displaying his extreme flexibility to twist beneath Karol’s arm, to fast tight twirls that almost remind her of Rita’s casting motions. For these, Karol spins so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t completely lose balance and land face first in the dirt. Instead he simply laughs jovially, really getting into the spirit of it and losing himself to the music. Raven’s responding smile is fond, like a father watching their kid, and she could almost believe they’ve both forgotten about their ulterior motives, if not for how Raven keeps glancing in their direction every other time he’s facing their way.

It’s as Estelle drags Rita out to join them, accompanied by a group of the locals, that Judy feels something ugly snare her heart and promptly takes the opportunity to cast a considering glance instead to Patty and Yuri. The smaller is bouncing where she sits, gleefully watching the dancers - she seems antsy to join in, if only she could find a spare partner who wouldn’t accidentally crush her.

Yuri surprises her - while he might not be completely out of his funk, he’s watching more attentively than she previously expected. She gazes at him curiously for a while as he leans his head on his hand, watching the Dahngrestian pair’s increasing frenzy. Karol’s giggles are near constant, and Raven’s been infected by his happiness, laughing obnoxiously himself. The creases of Yuri’s eyes tighten, even as the rest of his face fails to emote, as his eyes seem to lock on Raven’s face and stay there. She smiles.

“Ahem.” she coughs, sharp and decidedly fake. Yuri and Patty both are startled away from the party, turning to her. She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the former, coy smirk rising to her lips. His eyes widen in response, as Patty turns confusedly to look at him, before he flusters, turning away from the party entirely. She laughs.

It’s at that moment that Karol comes spinning towards them, hand freed from Raven’s grasp at last. His smile is blinding, and he’s struggling to catch his breath, but he still seems to be full of energy as Raven follows behind him.

“Patty, you probably know a bit of swing, right?” he asks her, real question thinly veiled by his proffered hand.

She’s a clever lass, though. “Hah! Of course I do, matey!” she declares, grabbing it firmly and pulling him back out into the street.

Raven watches them go fondly, before turning to her. With a flourish, he bows to her, graceful as a knight but with none of the prim and proper charm.

“Judy, my darlin’, could I convince ya to honour ol’ Raven with a dance?”

His eyes never leave hers as he asks, gaze sharp and lacking all pretense of genuine flirting.

Ah, so that’s his game is it?

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!” she declares exaggeratedly, hand to her chest. “Not when Yuri so clearly wants to instead!”

The effect is instant. She barely has time to note the twitch of Yuri’s ears at the sound of his name before his head whips around to look at them.

“Hu- what?”

Raven springs back upright, throwing his hand up to clutch at his own chest.

“Yuri, darlin’, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was say so! No need to make Judy do all yer dirty work for ya!”

He closes the gap between them in a matter of steps, as Yuri’s face grows more panicked by the second.

“Wh-- no, what?! Judy, no, I can’t dance , JU--!!”

She smiles as Raven takes him by the hand and tugs him away. Yuri’s expression reminds her of a bunwigle, caught unaware in the middle of the night, backed into a corner with no escape. It’s incredibly endearing, and certainly a nice change from the faux-apathy he’s been stewing in.

As they move away she watches as Raven’s expression transforms from mischievous to something more careful, considerate. He doesn’t guide Yuri to the middle of the crowd as she’d expected, where their friends spin with reckless abandon, but instead to a quieter area of the dancing space. Yuri seems just as confused as she feels, more than likely expecting Raven to have humiliated him with his lack of skill. They’re far enough away that whatever the older man says to reassure him is lost to her, but he smiles and takes Yuri’s hands gently.

Her heart swells at the careful way Raven teaches him, easily pulls him out of his darker thoughts and concentrates his mind on something else. Yuri doesn’t strike her as the sort to let himself be taken care of, but she doubts he even realises that’s what’s happening - probably sees it instead as some sort of challenge. It’s nice. She might not have known him long, but she feels close to him in a way she hasn’t felt with another person for… a good ten years, she’d wager. She’d forgotten what it felt like, to see good things happen to someone you care about.

He trips over Raven’s feet often, but Raven doesn’t let him get self-conscious about it - instead exaggeratedly pretending to trip himself in a way that allows Yuri to chip in and tease him. When there’s one failed attempt too many and Yuri attempts to break away, he simply pulls him back in, closer, and looks him in the eyes.

(She feels a little bad for still watching, personal and intimate as the moment is becoming, but it’s hard to find anything else interesting at this point)

“What is it I always say when I’m fightin’, Yuri?” she can just about hear the old man say over the wail of the trombone.

Yuri’s tone is monotonous, even as his face starts to rise into an affectionate smirk.

“‘Ooo, eee, ow, my back hurts?’” he says, quirked eyebrow a dead giveaway for his bullying. He receives a light slap to his arm for his trouble that leaves him laughing openly in a way she… hasn’t actually seen from him in the time she’s known him.

Huh.

“That it’s just like dancin’, ya dolt!” he says. He laces their fingers carefully before starting to move once more through the basic steps. “You’ll see what I mean before long.”

After a few more failed attempts, Yuri finally starts to figure it out. He still steps on Raven’s toes more often than not, but it’s to be expected for a newbie in the face of a dance as rapid as swing - she’s quite impressed at how fast he’s picked it up in all honesty. He’s already doing a damned sight better than Rita, whose motions are still awkward and stiff as she’s twirled by Estelle (though she looks to be having the time of her life, in spite of it).

They look very sweet together, in all honesty. It’s the most she’s seen either of them relax in front of other people - Yuri’s snark is quickly abandoned as he starts to really get into the swing of it, and most of Raven’s jokes and teasing go along with it. They’re just a couple of normal guys in their own little world, dancing together beneath the rising sun, looking genuinely happy for once. Watching them laughing together, she finds her own spirits raised too, even as she continues to sit to one side like a wallflower.

And she’s glad she did. If she hadn’t, she’d have missed out on this potentially one-time-only sight of Yuri’s carefree smile. Would’ve never seen the sudden change in Yuri’s demeanor as he looks up at Raven mid-spin, eyes widening, before his expression becomes suddenly raw.

He’s not watching his feet at all any more - he’s just going with the flow, and reading Raven’s movements and they’re incredibly in sync to say Yuri has all of 10 minutes of experience. It’s strange to think it, but he seems to be having fun , doing something other than fighting, even despite his mess ups. Yuri’s uncharacteristically crooked smile, as his eyes never leave Raven’s, is blindingly beautiful, and piques her curiosity.

Before today, when she’d seen the admiring glances the Raven had sent his way, she’d have thought he was barking up the completely wrong tree. Now though (although she doubts Yuri’s realised the way he’s starting to look at the old man) she’s really not so sure.

Then the moment is gone.

Behind her, she hears him. Flynn, barking orders to his brigade, accompanied by the protests of the now-bound followers of Cumore. And in that exact instant, Yuri stops stock-still. Raven goes crashing into him, frantically apologising and trying to check he’s okay, but it’s as though he isn’t there. Yuri just stares past her to Flynn, eyes wide and unseeing but… terrified , if she had to take a guess.

She can hear Raven call to him as he slips his hands free from his grip, and he looks up glancingly. He mutters something, what she can only imagine is some excuse, or a few words of apology, before he’s stalking off towards the inn and shutting the door behind him briskly.

Raven, standing alone and off to one side, looks very small in that instant. Like he doesn’t know quite where he went wrong, what he could’ve possibly done differently.

Perhaps, just this once, she can take pity on him. After all, if there’s anyone who can fix her left feet…

Standing and smoothing down her skirts, she heads over to him, taking his hand, and he startles. His big blue eyes look up at her, puppy-like, and it’s like Estelle the night before all over again. She sighs, already regretting her question before she asks.

“Is the offer still open?”

He smiles. Solemn. But it’s a start.

me, age 12: haha yeah raven blatantly has a thing for yuri and i love them together, but i guess there isn't much to imply yuri likes him back huh me, age 24, seeing the 'Happy Birthday' skit for the first time and learning the Very Specific Age Gap between Yuri and his first ever crush: a

ftr no one in the vesperia party is cishet no i will not take questions

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silverstarsheep · 4 years

Text

Oh man, it’s a fic for the “Coffee Shop AU,” which is lead by @doodledrawsthings.

I started this really early on and wrestled with it a lot, so things changed and shifted a bit since I started writing it. Looking at the new stuff vs. old, I’m surprised what details I got accurate, and not at all surprised at what I got wrong. Quite a lot of it is super super SUPER inaccurate, sorry.

This is more or less my take on Luka’s transformation, so... Take it for what you will, haha.

I also finished it a while back, but never had the guts to actually post it for one reason or another--I may as well post it anyway, since it’s gotten this far.

Word count: 6,749

-----------------------------------------------------

Luka nearly flew out of the restaurant and into the cooler-than-normal evening air, stumbling down a few of the steps leading to the door. The sound of rain could be heard all around him--it hadn’t let up since he arrived. Standing underneath the awning with his umbrella cradled in the crook of his right arm, he stuffed both hands into his pockets, puffing out a frustrated sigh. His face was burning hot, and his chest was tight with indignation.

He should have known that a call to “make amends” from Vanessa was going to be a big, fat lie. Luka’s brow creased, and he stared at the damp pavement beneath the bottom step, silently wondering why he had ever thought that such would have been the case. During the legal battles of divorce and custody, that vile woman more than demonstrated her ice-cold and vitriolic feelings towards him.

Maybe, deep down, he still felt something for her... And he did truly want to make amends. Too bad the same wasn’t true for Vanessa.

Popping his umbrella open, he finally trotted down the rest of the stairs and to the sidewalk. It was about time that he went home, but along the way he needed to pick up little Harriet from her friend’s house. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind walking in the rain, but somehow he doubted she would.

As he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but shiver. Frown creasing his features further, he thought to himself, “Wasn’t it supposed to be in the 70′s tonight?” If only he had worn a thicker sweater... If it got any colder, he would have been able to see his breath!

To make matters worse, in the corner of his eye Luka could make out little white dots bouncing around on the ground. Pace slowing a bit, it wasn’t long before he was hearing heavier objects hitting his umbrella. Hail?! For pity’s sake, can’t he catch a break for just a second? Holding the umbrella tight, he started to run down the sidewalk, having to skid to a halt when he realized that he had nearly overshot his friend’s house.

Bounding up the porch, he knocked on the door, drumming his fingers against the umbrella’s handle. The door opened, however instead of being met with her caregiver, he was instead met with the very small, curly-haired Bonnie. She stared up at him with her big, purple eyes for a moment, then gave him a toothy grin.

“Hi!” she chirped. She looked over her shoulder, “Ms. Tina! Mr. Luka is here!”

“Tell him to come in, please!” he could hear a woman’s voice call from inside. Tina must have been making dinner.

The smell of steamed vegetables hit his senses in just the right way, causing his stomach to growl a little. However as he took in a deep breath, Luka’s throat felt rather sore. Not wanting to assume the worst, he simply brushed it off as him having raised his voice a bit too much when he spoke with Vanessa. The conversation did get quite heated, after all--but with Vanessa, one could say that she was always chilling.

Bonnie motioned for him to come inside as she skipped into the living room herself. The home was comfortably warm, a welcome change from the cold, wet outside. She flopped back onto the floor right next to Harriet, who was lying on her stomach and holding a purple crayon in a crab-like vice grip. She looked up and smiled.

“Oh, hi, dad!” she kicked her legs up into the air and drew both arms to her chest, “Did it go okay with mom...?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Luka replied with a sigh. He didn’t reply at first, trying to think over his response. Standing in the door frame he shook his folded umbrella off over the porch, then placed it inside beside the door. He could feel Harriet’s eyes piercing into him.

“Sorry to say, it didn’t go so well,” he finally stated, his shoulders slumping significantly. His daughter was young, but he knew she was smart. There was no sense hiding it, but the look of disappointment on her face made him feel regret tweak at his heart.

Bonnie spoke up, “She didn’t use any of her,” the girl wiggled her fingers in a “mysterious” fashion, “Eeevil magic on you, did she?”

Blinking, Luka couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, no... She didn’t!” he grinned, “But if she did,” he grabbed his umbrella and brandished it like a sword, droplets of water scattering about, “I would’ve fought her off!”

When the two girls giggled at his display, Luka relaxed a bit. For Harriet, laughter was a powerful tool in these harsh times. First and foremost, making her happy and keeping her healthy was his biggest goal.

Just as he set the umbrella back down, Bonnie’s caregiver, Tina, stepped into the living room. She gave Luka a warm smile, “Hey! It sure sounds like it’s coming down out there, did you manage to stay dry?”

“I’m mostly dry, but it started hailing on the way here!”

Tina blinked, her dark brown eyes wide, “Hail?” she asked in a doubtful tone, “This time of year?” she made way towards the still open door and peered through it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “Wow! Isn’t that something...” she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, “Well, I can’t let you walk home in that...”

“It surprised me, too,” Luka huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Would it be too much to wait it out here?”

“Not a problem at all!” she flashed Luka a bright smile, “I can add some more to the dinner if you’d like to stay! Once Honey gets here, we can have a nice, big meal!”

Closing the door, Luka shot a glance to his daughter, “What do you think?” he asked, having to clear his throat, “Wanna eat dinner here?” his throat was starting to feel worse. Was he suddenly coming down with a cold, or something?

The girl threw both arms into the air, nearly tossing her crayon in the process, “Yeah!! Ms. Tina’s food is the best!”

Tina laughed in a merry way, then started for the kitchen once more. She muttered quietly to herself as she thought about how many more vegetables to steam, how many patties to fry... However she stopped in her tracks when Luka gently flagged her down.

“Need any help?” he asked. There was a sudden weight on his shoulders, as if someone had put a thick blanket over him. Despite this, he didn’t want to impose on such a good friend, especially after she had so kindly watched his daughter!

The woman smiled brightly and gave a wave of her hand, “Oh no! It’s a real simple meal tonight, but it’ll be delicious all the same,” she motioned to the couch, “Why don’t you watch the girls? That’d be a mighty help.”

“S-sure,” he replied, clearing his throat again, “But can I,” he cleared his throat again, this time ending with a small coughing fit, “Mmh, can I get a glass of water?”

Concern creasing her brow, Tina replied, “Well sure... Are you alright?”

With slow and careful movements, Luka took a seat, “Hm... All of the sudden, I’m not...” he rubbed at his face, it was burning hot, “I’m not feeling so great...”

“Dad, your face is all red!” Harriet remarked in shock.

“Goodness, she’s right!” Tina leaned over him, gently placing her hands on his arm and back, “Maybe you should go home and rest up!”

Brow creasing, Luka rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. He took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded. Going home would be best... If he was getting sick, he didn’t want to risk making anyone else ill.

“Okay, Bonnie,” Tina said with a clap of her hands, “Get your shoes on.” when Bonnie rushed to her room to grab a pair of socks, Tina turned back to Luka, “Don’t you worry, I’ll drive you over. It’s not far, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there, especially in hail.”

Luka merely nodded in agreement, however he looked to Harriet, “Hey, kiddo... You wanna spend the night here...?”

She shook her head briskly, her ponytail slapping the side of her face, “No! I need to make sure you’re okay, dad!” she said firmly. She went to the door to grab her shoes. Well, looks like that was settled...

Once Bonnie and Harriet had gotten their shoes on, the four of them piled into Tina’s mini van, and were off.

Trying to keep himself awake, Luka attempted to make small talk, “So... How’s it been fostering Bonnie?” he asked.

Tina smiled, “It’s been going wonderfully, but...” she sighed as they reached a stop sign, “We’re nearing the end of the 13 month care...”

Luka gripped his seat belt with both hands, “Have you and Honey... Considered adopting her?” he asked in a hopeful tone

Smile faltering, Tina seemed to hesitate before easing on the brakes, “Yes, but... Getting the paperwork cleared has been a struggle. Honey and I haven’t had any luck...”

“Ah, sorry... Maybe I can help you clear things up a bit?” Luka offered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Bonnie would, too!” Tina chimed with a toothy grin, “You need to put all that law studying to good use, huh?”

With the vehicle thoroughly pelted with hail, and a couple blocks later, they pulled into Luka’s drive. The father-daughter pair said their goodbyes and quickly retreated inside, however the hail was finally starting to subside. Now that they were home, it was time to get Harriet some supper.

Frankly, he wasn’t feeling very hungry himself, but one way or another he had to make sure that his daughter ate. He shambled into the kitchen and pried open the fridge--the seal was oddly tighter than usual--where he produced a frozen kid’s meal. Harriet stood in the door frame, watching him with worry in her eyes. She wrung her little hands nervously.

“Dad, I can make it myself!” she urged. She knew how to use the microwave...! It was just a little hard to know how many zeros to put on it when cooking something, and she often forgot to stir it halfway through... But she didn’t mind eating it a little cold! Honest!

Luka pulled a knife from the drawer and started poking holes into the film. He glanced over his shoulder with a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” he said with a low voice. Using his head, he motioned for her to go to the bathroom, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and wash your hands?”

Hesitating, Harriet bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave her dad alone... But if she was quick about it, then it wouldn’t be a problem! Maybe she could even grab her stool from the bathroom so she could reach the microwave buttons, and kitchen sink. Then she could make her dad a meal, too! The girl rushed deeper into the house without another word.

In the bathroom, Harriet made quick work of washing her hands, knocking over the soap bottle in the process of dispensing some of the foam onto her hands. She’d pick it up later! As she rushed to rinse her hands, she noticed her dear owl plush, Professor Popcorn, sitting by the sink. She had to rinse off his dear little beak this morning, and she must have left him there when she heard she was going to visit Bonnie.

Wringing her hands dry on a towel, she picked him up carefully, “Professor!” she cried, “Dad’s feeling sick, what do we do?”

She tried to imitate the voice her father would use when speaking for the owl by making her voice sound deeper, “Hm, I say that a hot bowl of soup will fix him right up!” she waved the plush around gently to make it look like he was talking.

“You’re right, Professor Popcorn!” Harriet confirmed with a nod, “Dad loves chicken soup, and we got a can of it! I can heat it up in the microwave!”

“I’ll help you read the instructions!” she had the professor conclude, manipulating his wing to adjust his glasses.

Meanwhile, Luka’s time was starting to get harder. His vision was getting hazy, his head was spinning, and his entire body felt sore. Dark splotches obscured his vision, and it almost looked as though his own arms were starting to turn dark.

Rubbing at his forehead with his knuckles, there was a loud clatter as the knife tumbled out of his hands and fell to the floor. Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere near his foot, however it was curious; he had a tight grip on that between his finger and thumb.

Pain snaked its way through his body as he leaned over to pick it up, causing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes tightly. He froze in place, one hand pressed against the counter top as one reached for the ground. Sweat began to pour from his brow in droves, drip, drip dripping onto his arm and the floor. At that point he had dared to open his eyes, and his stomach did a back-flip when he saw the state of his hand.

It... Wasn’t his hand anymore, or at least, it didn’t look like his hand. It had been replaced with a paw-like two-fingered hand that was a deep shade of purple. Said purple was slithering up his arm with snake-like tendrils. Losing his grip on the counter, Luka only managed to gasp as he fell roughly onto his knees. He looked to his right hand, which was much the same--thumbless and purple. No wonder he had dropped the knife! The purple substance had reached well past his elbow there.

The lights above flickered as fear struck his heart. With clumsy movements he tried to manipulate his new “hands” to try and scrape and push the purple stuff off of him, but all that succeeded in was sending droplets of purple onto the tiled floor. His arms remained unchanged, and the color only seemed to pick up the pace as it soon reached his shoulder and crept up his neck.

Bowling over as pain overtook him, Luka wrapped both arms around his stomach and pressed his forehead against the now-damp floor. His jaw was locked open, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his vision was filled with a golden light as tears streamed from them.

Fabric ripped and shredded as his form shifted and grew. The lights buzzed as they flickered wildly. A mane sprouted from his neck, ripping and tearing his shirt further. It didn’t take long for his entire body to be shrouded in the purple tone. Finally, when his legs began to twist together, Luka let out a scream.

The kitchen lights burst. The house was shrouded in darkness.

When the lights began to flicker, Harriet clutched Professor Popcorn close to her chest, gasping in fear. She hated it when the power went out! She closed her eyes as the lights buzzed.

“D-dad?!” she cried. That was when she heard his scream, and her heart fluttered. She yelped when the lights went out, and without thinking about it she jumped from her stool and rushed into the hallway. However her pace slowed, her hand gently guiding her along the hall when she heard an inhuman panting from in the kitchen.

It sounded like there was some kind of monster in there... But monsters weren’t real, right? Dad always told her that she had nothing to be afraid of under her bed or in her closet... So the only thing that should be in the kitchen was her dad....

Right?

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and every fiber in her body was telling her to run away, to hide under her bed until the power came on, or her dad coaxed her out... But despite her wanting to scream at her legs to stop, they carried her all the way to the kitchen door.

The house was dark, but there was just enough light for Harriet to see. In the kitchen, however, it was as if something had absorbed all of the light. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t make anything out--even the window had turned black.

Harriet fought back her tears. She was so frightened that she could barely speak, but she just had to make sure her father was ok. She finally managed to speak up again with a squeak, “Dad...?”

Something in the darkness moved. She could hear it shuffling about. Slithering around like a giant snake. Her grip around her plush tightened, and her heart nearly sprung into her mouth. A set of bright, golden eyes appeared in the darkness, illuminating a bit of the kitchen with yellow light. She could just make out the shape of the eye’s owner--big and purple, with a scruffy-looking mane. It had a long, long body, and two arms that propped it up.

Around it were scraps of clothes and little puddles of a dark liquid. In the dim light she couldn’t tell what color those were, but her imagination quickly filled in the blanks--blood.

It was blood. It was her father’s blood. Whatever monster this was had ripped her dad to ribbons and ate him, leaving nothing but his shredded clothing behind.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open, but nothing escaped her throat but air. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The monster opened its own mouth, revealing its wicked, sharp fangs. More golden light spilled out into the kitchen from the beast’s maw. Its breathing was raspy. It shuffled about and moved its mouth as if trying to speak.

“Ha... Harri....” it croaked. It almost sounded like her father. Chills washed through the girl’s tiny body, and her hairs stood on end, “Ha.. rriet...” oh peck, it knew her name!

It reached out to her with inhuman fingers. Frozen in place, Harriet hadn’t a single clue what to do. Her legs continued to refuse to listen to her--now that she wanted to move, they were suddenly cemented to the carpet. She whimpered pathetically.

Hot fingers brushed against her cheek, the tips of claws gently caressing her face. Harriet inhaled. Then she shrieked. As loud as she could she screamed bloody murder, and the monster shrank back in shock. Her legs finally listened to her, and she bolted for the door, which she flung open and didn’t think to close behind her.

“W... Wai... Wait!!” the monster called. But it fell on deaf ears.

Not only did Luka’s body ache, but his heart did, too. He never wanted to frighten his daughter, he never wanted to make her feel unsafe or in danger. But now, it almost seemed as though he had no choice. Whatever form he had taken on mortified the poor child, and now she was running into the late evening streets, completely unprotected.

He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was safe, and he had to let her know that her dad was still here, despite not looking the same anymore. He attempted to push himself upright, however he quickly realized that he no longer had legs. When they had twisted together in such a painful manner, they had fused together to make one long tail. There was no way he could chase after her like this!

He’d just have to drag himself, then. With his arms he began to haul himself past the tile, over the carpet, and through the door. As he lowered himself off of the porch, he realized that his body was remarkably light. He had no issue dragging himself across the ground, and now that he was on the stairs, he felt as though he were...

Floating?! He could float? There wasn’t any time to question it... He’d just have to take it as a blessing in disguise and hope that he could use it to his advantage. He pushed himself off of the ground, and much to his surprise, he remained in the air. Twisting his body this way and that like a snake, he quickly found that this mode of transportation was much faster than crawling around like a newborn. As he got the hang of it, he could pick up the pace.

Man, he hoped no one would see him like this...

Rounding the corner, Luka looked this way and that until he caught a glimpse of Harriet, who was bolting down the sidewalk towards the park. He gasped, “Harriet!” his voice boomed. It echoed and carried throughout the subdivision, causing a few dogs to start barking in shock. Even Harriet was surprised, and she tripped over her own feet and smacked into the pavement.

Luka clapped a hand over his mouth. Goodness, did his voice carry! He was sure to be seen now. Before he could catch up to her, his daughter had picked herself up and was running with new strength across the road to the park. Her beloved owl doll lay limp on the cracked pavement.

“W-wait, please, wait!” Luka called, pathetically trying to moderate his voice, “Hatty, please!” he hoped that the fond nickname would cause her to pause, but she kept on running. If he could have seen her face, he would have noted that her eyes were screwed shut. Thank goodness no cars were coming...

Making haste to pick up the doll, Luka was hot on Harriet’s tail. He could hear a few people poking out of their houses nearby, which only made him speed up. He quickly hopped over the brick wall and started his search for Harriet, looking in, around and under anything that she could have been inside of.

Finally, he found her huddled in the corner of one wall, concealed by a bush coated in flowers. She was shaking like a leaf and trying her hardest to hold back terrified sobs. Coiling himself inside the bush, he hoped that it would be enough to hide himself as he tried to console his daughter.

“Harriet?” he cooed. His voice was still too loud, even as he tried to whisper. It didn’t sound right, “Harriet, it’s me--it’s...”

She pushed herself further into the corner, turning her head towards the wall. She sobbed quietly, and Luka’s lower lip trembled.

“Sweetheart, please--please don’t be...”

This time Harriet sobbed louder, hiccuping into her knees. Luka shrank back a little looking at his empty hand. Could he really console her like this? When he looked and sounded like a monster? He then looked to the plush he held in his right hand. Professor Popcorn... Maybe this could help.

Holding the owl out, Luka tried to hide his face behind the plush as he put on the special voice he always used for the dear old professor, “H-hey there, kiddo! It’s me, Professor Popcorn!” the owl waved his little wing, and Harriet lifted her head. Luka dared to crack a weak smile, “I know things are really scary right now... But I just want ya to know that everything’s gonna be O-KAY!”

Harriet turned, staring intently at the doll. The way he moved, the way he spoke... It was exactly like how her dad would talk when they played together. Sure, his voice sounded a little... Scary, but the tone, the inflections... They were all the same.

“And that I love you...” Luka’s voice started to seep into Professor Popcorn’s, “Very, very much...”

Harriet dared to look up. Through the branches and leaves she could make out the monster’s face, his eyes glowing faintly. As he took on a gentle expression and leaned forward, she could almost see her father’s face in its features...

“... Y-you... Dropped him while you were running...” Luka continued, “I know how much you hate it when his beak gets dirty.”

Tears were spilling from her eyes again, and she shuffled about anxiously. Was it? Could it be?! Her eyes darted up and down his body, doubts still sprouting in her mind. But all the same, she wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, because it was an awful lot better than her dad being gone.

“Da... aad??” she hiccuped. Luka smiled weakly and nodded. With a loud sob she jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his scruffy-looking purple mane, which was surprisingly soft. She buried her nose into it, drinking in his smell. He looked different, he sounded different, but now she knew, this was her dad.

Wrapping his hands around her tiny frame, he gently rubbed the back of her head, whispering into her ear, “Shhh... It’s okay, it’s okay...” he took in a shaky breath, “I’m still here, dad’s still here...”

Harriet continued to sob. She must have been so frightened. Guilt stung at his chest, knowing that he was the cause of her terror... However he nearly jumped when she started to spurt out apologies. He backed away, his brow creased.

“What are you apologizing for?”

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Harriet hiccuped again and sniffled, “I... I thought you were a m-monster,” she replied, “An... And you ate my dad... I ha-hated you for a little bit...”

Carefully cradling her shoulders in his hands, Luka shook his head, “No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, Hatty. I... I’d be scared, too.” with one finger he wiped away a tear, “But you know, you’re very brave,” he added, “You looked me in the face now, and realized I wasn’t a monster.”

A little smile appeared on Harriet’s lips as she continued to sniffle, “E-even if you look like a monster,” she whispered, “I... I still love you, dad.”

Scooping up into his arms, Luka gave his daughter a tight squeeze. There was some relief that washed over him, knowing that his daughter still loved him despite all of this, however worry had started to snake its way into his mind. How was he going to care for her when he looked like this? He hadn’t even seen his own reflection yet, but considering how Harriet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to even face his best of friends...

Suddenly, there was a jab at his lower end, as if someone had prodded him with a stick. Crap, he had been seen! Tensing up, the length of his body coiled tighter as he held Harriet closer to his chest, protecting her from sight and harm with his torso. He must not have concealed himself enough. Curse this snake-like body!

“A-alright!” a man’s voice demanded, “Come out, y-you... Beast!”

Luka’s body went cold. What was he to do now?! Fear had pooled in Harriet’s eyes once again, and she clung to his mane as tightly as she could. He could feel her little body trembling.

“Come out or I’ll shoot!”

He realized he didn’t have a choice. He popped out from the bush, scattering leaves and flower petals everywhere. A group of ten or eleven adults had gathered, a few of them with children who were cowering behind their legs and clinging to their pant legs. The group gasped audibly, backing away as they erupted into distress.

“Oh gosh, it’s got a kid!” one shrieked. This caused a few screams within the group, and Harriet to try and hide.

“SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!”

“No, get animal control!”

“Roger, just SHOOT the thing, already!!”

The man in front, who was holding a hunter’s gun, was quite literally shaking in his boots. He aimed his weapon, but his moment of hesitation gave Luka enough time to react. He wanted a distraction, a diversion of some kind, and when he screwed his eyes shut he somehow willed it to be. The area was suddenly plunged into darkness as if the sun had been blotted out. Both his daughter and the group screamed, but it was more than enough of a distraction as he leaped over the brick wall and flew off in search of a proper hiding spot.

The two emerged from the darkness as if it were a bubble. Blinking rapidly, Harriet peered over her father’s shoulder, finding it curious that the darkness was in such a concentrated area.

“D-did you do that?” she squeaked.

Glancing over his shoulder, Luka was equally surprised at what he had done. Frankly, he didn’t want to even think about it, “I-I guess so...” he replied. He dreaded the idea that powers came with this monstrous form, but as he lifted them above the treetops in hopes that they’d look like a bird or lost kite, he realized that his say didn’t matter.

Harriet continued to grip his mane for security, her eyes drifting to the land below, “Uh... We’re getting kinda high...”

“Sorry, I don’t want them to catch us,” he glanced at his daughter, “Is it too high?” he tightened his arms around her.

“N-no... I kinda like it.” she admitted. She fell silent for a few moments more, watching the city go by beneath them. She eventually asked, “Where are we going?”

Luka bit his lower lip, “Not sure... Somewhere to hide until the neighborhood calms down.”

“Um... Why not that old movie theater they closed down?” she suggested, “That should be big enough.”

“That sounds good.” Luka whispered in reply. It’d have to do for now, seeing he could sneak in through one of the doors. Or at the very least, they alleyway would suffice as a hiding place.

Locating the old movie theater, Luka had to squeeeeeze his way into the alleyway, between the brick walls. Was it just him, or had he gotten larger? He felt so big and obvious already! There was no way he’d be able to fit inside the theater like this, so he just hoped no one would be coming into the alleyway, especially this late.

He lowered Harriet to the ground, “We’ll stay here for a while...” he whispered.

“Dad, we’ve gotta get some help!” Harriet cried, however she tried keeping her voice down, “We need to find someone who can turn you back to normal!”

Luka’s tail twisted itself into knots, and his expression turned dour, “I don’t know anyone that can fix this,” he sighed, looking at his hands, “And going out now, with everyone in a tizzy about a monster... That’d be asking for trouble.”

“What about Ms. Tina and Honey?” Harriet persisted, “They might be able to help! They’ve got a real big basement you can hide in!” she threw her arms in the air to demonstrate.

“Harriet...” he placed a paw on the top of her head, “... No, I’m sorry. I need to lay low for a while. At least let things calm down. It’s hard telling if anyone would believe me.”

“Bonnie would...” she pouted in reply.

Heaving a sigh Luka paused to think, placing his free hand to where his chin would have normally been. If he was going to be laying low for a time, he couldn’t keep Harriet with him, now could he?

If anyone found out that he was a monster, there would be no chance of him being able to keep Harriet’s custody. After such a long and difficult battle, that made his stomach churn. The idea of Harriet falling into foster care, or even worse, falling into the custody of Vanessa, made his stomach do back flips. What was the best option here? His expression grew grim, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his dark features.

“You okay, dad?”

“Hey,” he spoke up, “Why don’t I drop you off at Tina’s house? She and Honey can take care of you for a while.” he paused, “Until I can get this all sorted.”

“What?!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening, “No! No way!” she pushed her father’s paw off her head and pressed her hands against his chest, “I’m staying with you!”

“Harriet--”

“I don’t want to leave you!” her fingers wrapped around his fur, “And, and--you’d be lonely without me!” tears welled in her big blue eyes again, “You need someone to scout for you, to see if there are people around! What if something happened, and I never saw you again?!” the tears spilled over her cheeks and down her chin.

“Hey, hey...” Luka cooed, placing his all-too-massive paws on her shoulders, “Okay... Okay, you can stay with me...” he hoped that he wouldn’t regret that decision.

Smiling, Harriet wiped her tears away, “Mean it?”

“Yeah.” Luka nodded, “I mean it.”

Lying on the ground, Luka allowed Harriet to climb into his crossed arms. They remained silent for a time as he waited for enough time to pass. He wondered if anyone would be checking out their house. He certainly hoped not, but he could imagine that most of his neighbors would recognize Harriet as the “hat kid from down the street” without much problem. He sighed.

Harriet’s stomach growled, “Dad,” she gently tugged at a tuft of fur, “I’m hungry.”

Lifting his head, Luka frowned. Shoot, he didn’t finish making her that frozen meal, did he? And he didn’t have his wallet, either, “Ah, sorry kiddo... You’ll have to wait a couple more minutes before we can try to go home.”

“Hm...” her little face scrunched up in thought, “Oh, I know! There’s a restaurant nearby, I think! I can dig out some food from the trash!” before her father could object, she jumped out of his arms and ran off.

With a quick motion, Luka grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her in the air, “Oooh, no you don’t, kiddo!” she squirmed a little but quickly gave up, “I’m not letting you get a stomach bug, or eat a rat or something.” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Folding her arms over her chest, Harriet pouted, “Aw... What if I wanted to eat a rat?”

Lifting himself into the air, he plopped her back into his arms, “Well, you’re not gonna.” he glanced to the sky, which had gone completely dark, “It ought to be late enough for everyone to go back home...” . At least he’d be able to hide fairly well in the dark of the night.

There were a number of police cars around the neighborhood. Luka’s body had gone cold again, not wanting to think about what would happen if one of them spotted him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and then slid across the subdivision, keeping low to the ground and hiding in any shadows he could find. He crawled over fences, through backyards, and around houses until they finally reached their destination.

Their house was still pitch dark. A few police cars had just pulled away from the front--had they investigated the home? Luka chewed on his cheek, hoping that they had gotten everything they needed by now and were all gone.

“Dad,” Harriet whispered, “There are people in the front, how will we get in?”

Eyes drifting along the back wall, he decided that they’d just have to break in. How odd was that? Breaking into your own house... Well, it had to be done. Hovering to the windows, he attempted to peer inside of one, however his glowing eyes were all that reflected back at him. He scoffed in disgust.

“You ok?” Harriet asked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked. When she nodded, he held her up to the window, “Take a look inside, and let me know if you see anyone.”

Cupping her hands around her eyes, Harriet looked through the window with a scrutinizing stare, “All clear!” she said. The pair repeated this process a few more times until they eventually concluded that the house was empty. What a relief!

“Okay, hold onto me,” Luka said. Once Harriet’s arms were wrapped around him, he located her room’s window, and pried his fingers underneath the frame. It took a bit of work, but he eventually managed to pry it open with a loud grunt, “Okay, go inside, and get your clothes.”

Harriet frowned, “We can’t say here anymore...?”

Drooping a bit, Luka shook his head, “Sorry... We can’t. Not with everyone suspicious of it, now.”

Despite her feelings, she complied and crawled through the window. As she went to find her suitcase, she turned to the window, “Can you help me...?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, Luka wasn’t sure he’d fit in her room, let alone through the window. But, he’d give it a shot. Pressing his head through the window, he found it to be quite the tight squeeze, but after a few attempts, he managed to get inside, knocking over a lamp in the process. The bulb shattered upon impact with the ground.

“Oh!” Harriet cried. Realizing she rose her voice a bit too much, she shrank back a little and lowered her voice, “Did you get smaller?” she asked. It wasn’t a significant change by any means--he was still massive--but he fit in her little room better than he did the alleyway.

“I don’t know,” Luka shrugged with a furrowed brow. Picking the lamp off the ground, he didn’t really know what to make of this. But there was no time to dwell on it! They had clothes and food to pack!

Harriet passed her favorite outfits over to her father, who carefully folded them into a purple-colored suitcase. A tight fit, but Harriet managed to find space for a few toys by cramming them in the pockets. They grabbed her back pack, dumping Harriet’s kindergarten books unceremoniously onto the floor. With a larger duffel bag in tow, the pair went into the kitchen to pack more supplies.

Harriet’s bag was filled with the lighter supplies--money, bandages, Luka’s phone, a lighter, and a number of other necessities. As he took a few items, such as bandages, from the bathroom, that was when he finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection blankly at first, then his expression twisted into one of disgust. He turned away, not wanting to look at it any longer.

Back in the kitchen, the duffel bag was filled with whatever non-perishable foods Luka could find, as well as a pot or two. He double-checked everything in the bags, then slung the duffel over what shoulders he had. He had to tighten the strap to make sure it stayed in place.

Luka couldn’t think of anything else to pack, especially anything that wouldn’t weigh them down too much. He was certain that he’d think of more on their way out of the city, but at this point it was best to just get the both of them to someplace safe.

With everything in tow, Luka scooped Harriet into his arms, and slipped into the night, his sleek purple body blending perfectly in the dark. As he rose into the air, he ran a few options in his head; where they could hide, where they could find shelter, where they could get food... It was going to be terribly difficult for his little daughter, and he so desperately wished that he could have simply left her with a trusted friend instead.

Harriet spoke up when they were high enough to soar over buildings, pulling him from his thoughts, “Hey... Dad?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“... Do you think mom was the one that did this to you?”

Luka fell silent, his tail jerking a bit. It was odd; until now, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. But as his stomach churned, he could only conclude that it was true. The drink Vanessa offered him, the sick feeling he got after leaving the restaurant, the horrific transformation. It all added up. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned deeply.

Five years later, Vanessa was just as petty as when Harriet was born.

“You know, I think you’re right.” he finally sighed, “Somehow I don’t think she’d be very willing to reverse it. For now, let’s just... Get somewhere safe.”

A pang of guilt flashed in Harriet’s eyes as she gently placed her hand against her father’s chest. She slowly nodded in reply, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Solemnly and in silence, the pair flew to the horizon, uncertainty following them like a storm cloud.

#doodledrawsthings #ahit 'coffee shop au'#ahit coffee shop au #sheep of the epic story

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echo-hiraeth · 3 years

Text

Envious Desire - Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and y/n are good friends and are both too shy to admit their feelings to one another, until she starts getting herself out there and Frankie can’t keep it together anymore.

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, swearing, fluff

Masterlist

Another request by the amazing @peterhollandkait

A/n: this picture is totally Frankie sitting on his porch just having an existential crisis and overthinking every word he ever said to you.

The night Benny introduced you to the boys was the night your life turned around for the better. You’d been by yourself eating ice cream on the couch for the fifth night in a row after your best friend had moved out of the country. You seemed inconsolable now that your partner in crime had started a boring adult life full of responsibilities, the horror. Ah yes, your plans for that night were set in stone; cry, eat some more ice cream, drink the worries away, rinse and repeat. That was until your front door swung open wide, Benny and Will standing next to your couch.

“Go awaaaay”, you whined, pouting your lips.

Will grabbed the tub of ice cream from your frozen hands, your mouth agape in shock. Before you could scold him for it Benny ripped the blankets off of you, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Come on princess, we’re gonna paint the town”, he laughed, carrying you to his truck.

“Miller I’m in my fucking pyjamas”, you protested, fists banging on his back.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ve got it all figured out. Besides, where we’re going you’re not expected to really dress to the nines”, Will teased, touching the tip of your nose.

And they were right, when you walked into the event dressed in one of Ben’s flannels and a pair of baggy jeans nobody so much as turned a head in your direction.

“Are you fighting tonight?”, you interrogated your childhood friend as he guided you backstage.

“You betcha, had to bring my homegirl out for the big one”, he joked as he slapped a poster with his name on it.

You rolled your eyes as he slipped into what you presumed was his dressing room, crossing your arms over your torso as you stood in the empty hallway.

“I’m telling you Benny’s gonna get knocked on his ass”, a tan man taunted, his arm around Will, another man trailing behind them.

Will smiled upon seeing you, running ahead of his friends to scoop you up in a bone-crushing hug. “You look so tiny in these”, he cooed as he eyed you up and down.

You punched him square in the bicep, laughing along with him. “At least introduce me to your victims for the night”, you said pointing to the two other men.

“Ah yes dearest y/n, let me introduce you to Santiago Garcia and Francisco Morales, your soon-to-be best friends. Lads, this is our little damsel failing to cope with emotional distress.” He announced as he ruffled through your hair, landing him another slap.

During the fight you’d gotten to talking with the two, soon learning that Frankie and Pope (which is what they liked to call Santiago) were friends from their days in the army. The three of you had gotten along great from the get go, to the Miller brothers’ delight.

From that night on you accompanied the boys to almost everything, spending your Fridays drinking at Santiago’s and most of your Sunday’s barbecuing in Frankie’s yard.

This Sunday was once again spent in that exact yard, where you’d made some of your greatest memories in the past months. You’d convinced Frankie into showing you how to operate a grill today, to his dismay.

“Please just put them on, just to be safe”, he begged, handing you a pair of ridiculous gloves.

You put them on with a sigh, trying to stop yourself from smiling as he grinned at the sight of your tiny hands disappearing into the material. “What now?”

“Stand right here and hold this in your right hand”, he instructed, guiding you into the right spot by putting his hands on your waist. He handed you the spatula, further instructing you how to flip the patty.

“Oh this is easy! I’m a fucking natural”, you beamed, flipping the patties with ease.

“Don’t get too cocky now, these are just the basics”, he warned.

You’d continued on doing this for another ten minutes, Frankie’s hands regularly resting on yours to guide you. “Okay, okay, I’m getting waaaay too hot here!”, you giggled shaking the gloves off of your hands. You wrapped Frankie in a hug from behind. “She’s all yours again Fish!”

With that you left to sit with the others, leaving him completely red and flustered, the hue of the fire masking the blush on his cheeks.

“Just ask her out already”, Will chattered, handing his friend another beer.

“Not a fucking chance”, Frankie replied, skillfully flipping the meat over.

William sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. “She’s gonna start tindering again. Come on man, you know you like her.”

“I wish her the best of luck. Let’s go, dinner’s done.”

The night was filled with great food and hilarious conversation. When Benny told you about how Santiago had ripped his pants and needed to run around with his bare bum on one of their missions, you choked on a piece of your steak. Cackling and coughing away as Frankie worriedly hit you on the back a couple of times before offering you his beer. You gratefully took a sip, quickly wiping your mouth before getting caught in another fit of laughter. Frankie smiled as he looked at you, hunched forward, clutching your stomach as some tears started to form in your eyes at the intensity of your giddiness. William offered him a knowing look, mouthing a ‘just do it’ before returning back to the conversation.

An hour later the set of brothers left, needing to be in good shape for Benny’s training tomorrow. You were glued to your phone screen as the two men emptied the ashes from the grill, absolutely forbidding you to help. You had a sad smile on your face as you kept swiping, gauging Frankie’s interest.

“Hey, you okay?”, he asked softly, sitting down next to you on the back.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, my friend just sent me some pictures”, you breathed out, fingers shaking ever so slightly.

He moved a bit closer. “The one that moved away?”

You rubbed your hands up and down your bare arms. “Yeah, I’m really happy for her though. I’m just not as important anymore as I used to be, she has her husband for that kind of stuff now”, your voice was laden with emotions.

Frankie pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around you. “That’s alright, you have us idiots to take care of now. And if you get Santiago and me drunk enough we’ll totally come to girls’ night.”

You let out a soft chuckle at that, nuzzling further into his side, feeling safe and confident in his warmth. “Would you let me paint your nails?”

“Okay, now you see, there are boundaries”, Santiago chimed in, taking a seat on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you.

“My boys”, you smiled, wrapping an arm around each of them. “I have work tomorrow, so I’ll see myself out now.”

After you and Pope had left, Frankie was left alone with his thoughts. He’d started picking up the empty bottles strewn across the lawn until he found the sweater you’d been wearing earlier. He picked it up as it laid there, forgotten. It smelled of your perfume and made his breath hitch as he caught a whiff of it. It was getting harder and harder for him not to fall for you. Every time the two of you would meet you’d spend increasingly more time with one another, sneaking off from the others under the disguise of a boring chore. During these little moments the two of you got to know each other more and more and he came to the realization that with everything he learned about you, he only fell harder. If it wasn’t for his crippling fear of rejection and commitment (thank you very much ex-wife), he’d have asked you out already.

The thought of you kept following around everywhere he went and he decided it was time to speak up about it. So Friday night, while he pulled into Pope’s driveway he practised once more.

“Hey y/n. I know this is quite sudden but I think you’re really pretty and- no that’s stupid.” He sat up a bit straighter. “Y/n, I know we’ve been friends for a while now but I can’t stop thinking about you- no that’s creepy. Just fucking talk to her instead of your fucking self.”

With his heart beating in his throat he knocked at the door, smiling as his friend gave him a hug. Letting go he glanced around the room, seeing everyone else but you. He frowned, assuming you must be arriving later.

“Take a seat man, game’s only just started”, Benny yelled from the couch, patting the spot beside him.

Frankie grabbed a beer from the table before sitting down. “Where’s y/n, she okay?”

“Sorry man, your little girlfriend has a date with Bradley”, William teased.

He launched a pillow at his friends face, shaking his head. “She’s not my girlfriend, malo”.

“You sure would like for her to be though”, Santiago mocked as he wiggled his eyebrows at Fish.

“Can we just all shut up and watch the game?” Benny meddled. “Yeah? Great, next one to say something stupid can pay for pizza.”

The bunch was back to their usual antics when the doorbell rang a couple hours later. Since Frankie was the closest he’d gotten up to open the door. Laughing until he saw you standing there, in a beautiful dark green dress, hair and make-up perfectly done.

“H-hi”, he croaked out.

“Caaan I come in?”, you questioned, darkened lips quirking up into a smile.

“Yeah, yeah of course”, he chuckled, mentally beating himself up for staring at you as long as he did.

“Bradley wasn’t the one?”, Santiago asked from the kitchen, already getting her a beer.

“I have never in my life met someone so daft. Seriously it was like his head was empty, ridden of anything except the ability to stare at my boobs.”

The guys laughed, Frankie laughed along, a wave of relief washing over him. You went to sit next to him, slipping off your coat to reveal your almost bare back, making his eyes go wide with surprise. He couldn’t ask you now, it would be wrong to put that on you after your.. eventful night. Yeah, it wouldn’t be right, Sunday during the barbecue, that would be perfect.

Except you didn’t show on Sunday or at Benny’s fight or the next four gatherings. Until one Sunday you did, all dolled up once again. While it looked really nice on you, Frankie preferred you the way he was used to you, a simple shirt and jeans, occasionally a skirt. This just wasn’t you.

“Well hello there boys, I hope you don’t mind me bringing a plus one”, you declared, a slick-looking guy standing behind you. “This is Mark, the guy I’ve been seeing.”

Well fuck. Frankie took a big gulp from his beer, disappearing into the house while muttering something about getting more drinks. He grabbed a pack of beers from the fridge, slamming the door shut, groaning in frustration.

“I know Fish, we didn’t know she would bring him either”, Will spoke, taking the beers from his friend’s shaky hands. “It’s not like they’re that serious anyway, c’mon let’s get grilling.”

That night you didn’t share the bench with Frankie, you shared a fucking chair with Mark. Sitting on his lap with your arms hanging around his neck. He felt sick to his stomach watching you with him, laughing and having fun. It should’ve been him holding you, it should be him kissing your cheek. You should be with him.

When he went inside to put the plates away, you quietly walked behind him. He nearly threw them when you spoke up, startling him. There it was again, that blinding smile.

“Sorry Fish, didn’t mean to scare you”, you giggled, engulfing him in a tight hug.

He hesitantly put his arms around you, trying to bite back the jealousy that had settled into his skin. “So Mark huh?”

“Yeah, it’s our fourth date, figured I’d see how y’all got along first”, you explained while grabbing the dish soap.

“He’s really not your type. So vain and work-obsessed”, he scoffed, turning the faucet on.

“Hey! He’s a nice guy, very smart too”, you bit back.

“I’m aware, he told me about his degrees six times already. Real fucking catch. Did he buy you that ‘dress’ too or was his dick good enough to reel you in?”, he spat out.

“What the fuck Francisco. Listen to yourself! Is there a problem?”, you panted, shocked and hurt by his words.

“Oh no, not at fucking all. Just keep whoring yourself out for him, showing up in skimpy dresses and bimbo make-up!”, his voice was laced with anger, but not towards you. He was furious with himself.

You broke out in sobs as you left his kitchen, not bothering to talk to anyone as your ran past all of them. Frankie was letting out a string of curses as he ran after you, but was stopped by Benny before he could reach you.

“What the fuck did you do?”, he warned as he looked Frankie directly in the eyes.

“Get. Him. Out.” He ordered, pointing a finger in Mark’s as he tightened his jaw and closed his eyes.

The measly man scurried away, not wanting to get involved in whatever this was. Frankie had to count to ten, twenty even before opening up his mouth again. “I fucked up.”

“You don’t fucking say”, Santiago growled grabbing his jacket and turning to leave.

“Fix this. If anything happens to her, I’ll have your fucking head”, Benny threatened, grabbing his friend by the collar. “She’s like a sister to me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll find her, I promise”, Frankie vowed, his eyes and stance softening.

As soon as the guys left he was calling you, over and over again, leaving voicemail after voicemail, pleading, begging for you to let him know you were okay. He only got more worried when he looked through the window, seeing a flash of lightning before feeling the familiar rumble of thunder. It was pouring rain outside and pitch black, making it almost impossible to see anything. He sat on his front porch, squeezing the phone in his hand at an attempt to keep him somewhat grounded. Only when it started buzzing violently did he look up.

“Y/n! Are you okay?”, he asked frantically, already running over to his pick-up truck.

“I-I don’t know”, you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

He started the engine as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Are you hurt? Send me your location so I can pick you up.”

“I don’t know where I am”, you huffed.

“That’s fine, just text me your coordinates, I’ll come get you”, he instructed, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

There was some white noise coming from the other side of the line and soon Frankie got your exact location.

“Okay, got it. I’ll be there soon okay, try to get out of the rain. Please querida, stay right where you are”, he begged.

You didn’t reply before hanging up, your mind spinning and the tears streaming down your face. You sure looked a mess, black streaks of mascara running down your face, soaked dress glued to your body. Time didn’t even seem real anymore as you sat on a fallen tree trunk, staring intently at the rain splashing down on the road in front of you. When a car pulled up and you heard a door slam, you were pulled from your own head.

“Hey, hey. It’s me, everything okay?” He lifted up your face, locking eyes with you, heart pulling at the sight of the black streaks on your face. “Come on, let’s get you out of the rain”, he urged, already drenched to the bone himself.

“Frankie, I don’t want to hide anymore. I just need to do this and if you never want to talk to me again then I understand.. but I just need to know”, you voiced, hands shaking with nerves.

“W-what are you talking about, come on hermosa, you’re shivering.”

“Francisco.” He looked at you, intrigued by the use of his full name.

You grabbed his face, pulling him towards you to smash your lips against his. He didn’t know what to do, just utterly shocked by your sudden action. As you pulled away, he put his hand on the back of you neck, bringing your mouth back to his. You both smiled, your shed tears mixing in with the rain.

“Let’s go home, please, you’re shivering.”

He took your hand in his as he lead you back to the car, opening the door for you and quickly running over to his side before getting in. The two of you stared at each other for a second before leaning over the console to meet in another heated kiss. He pulled back, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Let me take you to my place, please.”

After you’d agreed he’d started the car, turning up the heating all the way as your lips turned a dark shade of blueish purple. He’d held your hand the entire car ride, scared to let go, fearing you might just disappear if he did. Once you arrived home he provided you with a pair of joggers and a shirt of his, leaving you alone to take a warm shower. He himself had changed in the comfort of his room, quickly drying his hair with a random shirt from the laundry basket.

He smiled when you walked out, hair damp and face bare. You looked adorable in his shirt and absolutely stunning overall. “What about Mark?”, he jested.

“I totally ruined his dress”, you joked.

Frankie walked over to you, resting his hands on the small of your waist. “I’m sorry hermosa.. When I saw him holding you like that I just freaked out. What I said back there- I – it wasn’t me, it wasn’t Frankie. I was jealous.”

You gently laid your head on his chest, burying your nose in his shirt. “I know, that’s why I brought him. I just needed to know if you felt the same way.”

“You’re an evil woman y/n”, he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I should let Ben know that you’re okay, if I don’t he’ll come over here himself to kill me.”

He picked up his phone from the dresser, but you took it from his hand. “It can wait, I want to catch up on some lost time with my boyfriend”, you mused.

“Now that does have a good ring to it”, he smiled, lips brushing past yours. “Buuuut you won’t have a boyfriend if I don’t call him.”

“Don’t tell him about this just yet.. I want to see the look on Pope’s face when I kiss you.”

He shook his head at you, smiling in adoration as he pressed the phone to his ear.

That Friday you were jittery as hell, your nerves getting the best of you. You’d managed to keep you and Frankie’s relationship a secret, waiting for the perfect moment. When the two of you arrived together none of the guys thought anything of it.

It wasn’t until Frankie handed you a beer and you’d kissed him, muttering a ‘thank you babe’ against his lips that the guys noticed. Their faces scrunching together with shock and confusion.

“Dude… no way”, Pope began, breaking the tense silence.

You pressed another kiss to Frankie’s lips, eyes watching Benny as he shook his head. “I swear if any babies come from this, I’m going to absolutely lose my shit.”

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #imagine #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader

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starrybethany · 3 years

Text

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 1

Word count: 3.3K

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I heard about Adam before I met him. The guys had hung around my office, claiming they wanted to catch up with me, but I really know it’s just because they want to gossip. Hockey players are like that. We were catching up on how their summers went.

“Hey, did you see who was drafted, Y/N?” Dylan asks, wandering around the small room and staring at various objects.

“Nope,” I pop the ‘p’, scanning over the email recently sent to me. “Who was it?”

“This Swedish kids with sick hands,” Alex gushes.

“Really? Is he gonna be the next Patty Kane?”

“Please, like anyone could be like Showtime,” he scoffs.

Dylan pulled up some videos of his highlights, showing them to me.

I nod in approval. “Looks like hockey.”

They give me unamused looks.

We’ve had this talk plenty of times- they think that since I work at the United Center, I should understand hockey more, I think that since I work for United Center and not for the Blackhawks, it really doesn’t matter.

Adam had spent that season in London with the Knights. I had heard about him sprinkled into conversations here and there but really, I just focused on my work as being the suites advisor and making sure everything went smoothly. It was a great year for bookings, and apparently a great year for him.

Alex tried explaining the kid’s talent to me when we were on a double date with our partners, but I still couldn’t understand hockey that well, so I just smiled and nodded. He let that slip by.

It wasn’t until he was here in Chicago that I got it.

For some reason I had been down at the rink, watching practice take place. He had spent a few weeks with the Hawks- weeks that I had taken off to take care of my boyfriend after his knee surgery- and was sent down to Rockford almost as soon as I had returned.

The boys were really upset that I hadn’t met their new friend, Kirby especially, who was a new addition to our group almost as soon as Dominik introduced him to me.

But then there he was, back on the ice. I squinted my eyes, not remembering a ‘27’ on the team. The last name clicks, and I watch as he flies around on the ice, joking with the guys and passing the puck skillfully.

I got it. I understood then why the boys thought he was so talented and why he was back in the NHL at the mere age of nineteen. He played with confidence and speed, a conscious defenseman- something the boys tell me they’ve been struggling with.

Then I un-got it.

Alex had invited a couple of us over for drinks one night and my boyfriend, as he did often, accompanied me.

“Oh, you guys haven’t met yet,” Alex comments, pouring glasses of wine for all of us. “Y/N, this is Adam, the defenseman we’ve been telling you about. Adam, this is Y/N, she works as a suites advisor for the UC.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reach out, shaking his hand. I thought he was attractive, I won’t lie. From the detailed tattoos to the messy hair, he was just my type. But my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, so that was a line I didn’t want to cross.

It didn’t matter to Adam, though. He winked at me as we shook hands, which I found distasteful, but allowed myself to send him a tight-lipped smile.

“And this is my boyfriend, Steven,” I emphasis, resting my hand on Steven’s thigh.

“Oh yeah,” Alex mutters.

Alex always tended to forget about Steven. In fact, everyone seemed to forget about Steven.

“So, suites’ advisor?” Adam questions, ignoring the man sitting next to me. I could feel my boyfriend freeze up at the clear dismissal.

“Yep.”

“What do you do? Just say hello to all of the rich investors?” By the smirk on his face and the small sip of wine, I can tell the dig is intentional.

He knows there is much more that goes into this job than that, so I don’t know why he’s trying to get under my skin. Especially when we just met.

“Um, no, actually, I schedule who books suites for when, what suites are available, who caters what suite. A lot goes into it, actually,” I send him a fake smile.

His smirk just widens, digging under my skin even more.

Steven and I had left early that night.

I ungot it again at the family skate. I’ve never learned how to skate- the guys tried to teach me, but I get frustrated easily so they stopped attempting. I’m stumbling around on the ice by myself, the boys stopping by once and a while to check on me but quickly rushing off to be with their significant others. Steven has work today and we had an argument a few days ago, so I didn’t even bother inviting him to the family skate.

A hard body runs into me from behind, causing me to become unbalanced and hit the boards, catching myself before I fall right onto the ice.

“Ow,” I turn around to glare at the person who pushed me, narrowing my eyes even more when I see the familiar blonde boy and the smirk that he’s always wearing. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“What do you mean?” His accent is thick with his words, making my stomach flutter but the irritation replaces the fluttering quickly.

“You’ve just been rude to me for no reason. What’s up with that?”

He gives me a surprised look, like he didn’t expect me to confront him on it. But I don’t know why he would think that- if you’re going to be a dick, I have a right to call you out on it.

He scoffs quickly, an annoyed expression quickly replacing his surprised one. “You’re overthinking everything.”

I watch as he skates away in annoyance, Kirby replacing his spot next to me.

“You two are close, right?” I question.

He nods.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

He laughs at that and I’m the one who’s shocked now. “Isn’t it obvious? He likes you.”

I give him an unimpressed look. “You’re saying he’s acting like an asshole because he likes me?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was logical,” he puts his hands up in defense, skating away.

I’ve always thought that was ridiculous. If you like someone, just tell them. And if you don’t, just avoid them. There is no reason that meanness is needed, especially if it’s because you really like that person.

I try to avoid Adam after that.

It doesn’t last long. About a week of avoiding him goes by before I find myself out at a bar with him and a few other players. I had just broken up with Steven, discovering that I no longer did my ‘in love’ giggle with him or smiled when I saw his name pop up on my phone.

But just because I fell out of love with him didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It really hurt. So that’s how I found myself one, two, three, four drinks in at the bar, too drunk to remember what I was saying and too drunk to care about how I might feel the next day.

I went on the dance floor to blow off some steam, swaying along to pop songs and screaming the lyrics.

Arms wind around my waist and I look down at them, spotting a familiar sleeve. I turn around in his arms, careful to not move my hands. I’m worried of what I might do if that happens- even though Steven and I had just broken up, I’ve been touch-deprived for weeks.

“What are you doing, Adam?” I question, leaning closer so that he can hear me.

“You’re single now, right?”

“Yes, but did I give you permission to touch me?” I raise my eyebrows.

He takes a step back with amusement, raising his arms defensively to show me that he’s respecting my boundaries.

Then I can’t help but think: fuck it. After being in a committed relationship for years, why not mess around with some guy I have intense sexual chemistry with? He’s hot, he’s sexy, sure he’s an asshole but I’m sure that confidence would do wonders in bed.

So, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling in his blonde locks as I pull him as close to me as he can get. One of his hands rests on my ass while the other rests on my hip, tugging me closer and closer to him.

He’s staying with Alex and Lyndsey, so we end up at my apartment in my bedroom. And when I wake up in the morning, I don’t regret it.

I regret it when I go to work the next day. He gives me a knowing look every time he passes me in the hall and even Kirby sends me a look or two.

It happens for a couple more days until one day he finds himself in my office with Dylan and Alex Nylander, another young rookie.

I’d been struggling with work all day, people bitching at me on the phone and numbers not adding up so all I really wanted was to finish the last hour of work and go home.

Then Adam gives me a look.

“What’s your problem?” I snap.

He gives me a confused expression, causing me to elaborate. “We slept with each other once and now you think you know so much about me? Do you think you can hold this over my head or something?”

Dylan chokes on his spit and Alex stifles his laughter, Adam flustering with words.

I organize a stack of papers on my desk, not even bothering to make eye contact with any of them. “I think it’s best if you three leave.”

They respect my wishes. An hour later I lock my door with a deep sigh, turning to make my way towards the parking lot. A body pushes me up against my door suddenly, causing me to gasp and dart my eyes up to see who my attacker is.

My eyes meet familiar blue ones and my body relaxes at the sight, then freezes up again when I realize I’m stuck in between his arms.

“You know, I didn’t really like that stunt you pulled earlier,” Adam breathes out, breath fanning over my face. His head leans down and he nibbles at the skin on my neck teasingly.

I hold back a moan at the action. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he bites down a little bit harder, causing me to wince. “I think you’re going to have to be punished for that.”

“You think so?” I whisper out.

“I think so.”

“Then I think we should get started on this now, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

And that’s how I began sleeping with Adam Boqvist. Neither of us are looking for anything serious- I want to live the single life after being in a committed relationship for so long and he wants to enjoy his single, youth years in the great city of Chicago.

Plus, he would be the last person I would date.

He’s cocky, selfish, obnoxious, loud- I could keep going.

But either way, the relationship between us, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t end game. He isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. He’s not the one I want to raise children with or sit with on rocking chairs on the porch.

He’s just a guy I want to have sex with until I find the right person for me.

So, tell me why I’m sitting in my shitty apartment bathroom with two pregnancy tests sitting on the small basin of the sink.

I crisscross my legs on the toilet, fiddling with my fingers anxiously. They have to be negative. They have to be.

I can’t have a child right now. I want to focus on my career and build my reputation in the field. I don’t want to have a baby just a couple years into starting this job. I can’t afford a baby anyways; Chicago is an insanely expensive city and I can barely afford to live by myself.

Hell, I live in a loft.

Besides, I can’t be connected to Adam for the rest of my life. I can hardly stand the guy as it is.

As the minutes slowly pass by, I convince myself that I’m not actually pregnant. The ache in my ankles and lower back are due to stress from work and the vomiting is because my eating habits haven’t been as consistent as they usually are.

I’m just going to completely ignore the fact that I let Adam have sex with me without a condom while I was off my birth control for a while due to the weird side effects it was giving me.

It’s like I’m watching from outside of my own body as I reach forward, grabbing the sticks and holding one in each hand.

Positive. Positive.

My heartbeat fastens and I can feel my breath getting shallow. I try to focus my breathing, counting to four over and over and it slowly helps.

My eyes open back up as I ground myself and I can’t help but just stare at the sticks, switching between the two. I’m pregnant. I’m having Adam Boqvist’s baby.

I really didn’t prepare myself for the next time that I’d see him. I’ve already prepared myself to deal with this on my own- whichever way I decide to do that. I haven’t really decided that yet either.

“Hey,” he grins at me as he enters my office, shutting the door behind him. “I have about ten minutes before Kirby starts to look for me, let’s have a quickie.”

“No, Adam,” I sigh, swallowing the lump in my throat. The words are just begging to come out. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad.

“Why not? Is it because we’re at work? We’ve done it in your office before,” he protests.

I set the pen down next to the pad of paper gently, crossing my hands on the top of the desk and turning to focus him with a serious expression. His mischievous grin fades when he notices that I’m not in the playful or teasing mood that I’m usually in when I see him.

“What’s up?” He questions.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

His reaction is not one I expect. His face turns to one of confusion, like he’s genuinely unsure why I would be telling him this.

“Congratulations?” He says it more like a question.

My eyes narrow into a glare at the word. He doesn’t believe that it’s his child. I feel hurt, disrespected, and angry. Who does he think I am, the type of girl who has unprotected sex with everyone who walks?

Not that there’s anything wrong with those girls, more power to them, it’s just- he knows me. We’ve been in each other’s beds most of the time for the past couple of months. I spend practically every night with him, and he has the nerve to doubt paternity?

“It’s yours, idiot.” I can’t help but let that dig slide.

“Well how do you know that?”

“Because if I’m not working, I’m having sex with you,” I say slowly, like I have to spell it out for him.

“Well how do you know it’s not- uh- what’s that guy’s name- Steven’s kid?” Adam inquires, his eyes showing that he’s searching hard for an excuse to not take responsibility.

I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Whatever, Adam, I don’t care if you believe me. I’m going to figure it out.”

“You better.” And by the way he says it, I know what he wants me to do. I know that he doesn’t want to be a father- although actions do have consequences, there is a reason that abortion and adoption are options.

I can also tell that now he knows for sure that he is the father. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to be the father.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s just scheduling an appointment- I can always cancel or reschedule.

But my finger rests over the call button for a long time, ‘Planned Parenthood’ looking up at me, mocking me, taunting me.

Do you want an abortion or not? Do you want to be a mother or not? Do you want to go through this pregnancy or not?

There are so many questions flashing through my head. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I want to do. I have no one to turn to- as much as I love the team, I don’t want to cause a rift between them and Adam, and I don’t want to think that we’re closer than we actually are.

I cut out my family years ago.

My friends are all party girls, they wouldn’t know the first thing about a baby if it hit them.

Everything is telling me that I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want to raise a baby on my own, I shouldn’t want to be a single mother.

But why do I so desperately yearn for it? Why did I feel joy when I looked at those sticks and why do I get excited at the thought of little footsteps running around on hardwood floors?

I press the call button.

It gets two rings in before I end it, knowing I’ve made my choice despite all odds.

I need to keep this baby. I know Adam won’t be there for me, but he doesn’t need to be. All this baby needs is to feel love and support and it’ll get that from me and me alone. I need to start fresh, though, to make sure that I’m the best mom that I can be.

“I can’t believe you quit, just like that,” Alex states with a disappointed tone.

I told the guys I quit because I want a change in scenery. That’s not a lie, I’m excited to be moving to the beautiful state of Colorado to start new. But I also hid the news about the baby. They don’t follow me on social media, so they’ll never know- unless Adam says something to them about it. But I doubt he will.

“We’ll miss you,” Dylan adds.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” I respond, closing the cardboard box containing all of my office supplies. Picture frames, pens, cool knick-knacks. All packed into a box ready to be shipped to the mountain zone.

“Hey Adam, Y/N was just getting ready to say goodbye,” Alex says, making me look up from taping up the box with wide eyes.

Sure enough, the blonde is leaning in the doorway, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve met him. It’s weird to see him so hesitant. It’s not him.

But I also don’t feel bad for him. A real dad would step up and want to be there for their kid. A good dad would do that. But clearly, and unfortunately, I was right. Adam Boqvist is and always will be selfish.

I say my goodbyes to Alex and Dylan, the box in one arm while I lock the office with the other hand.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Let’s just get this over with, Adam,” I start, turning to him. He winces when I look him in the eye, seeing all of the resentment and anger I feel towards him. “I’m keeping the baby. I’m raising the baby on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t put you down on the birth certificate. You’ll never see us again.”

His mouth opens then closes. “Are you sure?”

I scoff at the question, shaking my head in disbelief. I go to push past him. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure.”

#NHL imagines #Chicago Blackhawks imagine #Adam boqvist #Adam boqvist imagine #hockey imagines #bimsure

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mydeadmen1956 · 3 years

Text

This totally happened. Baby Jerry. Older brother Dean.

Year: 1946

Ages: 28 and 19

“You call this a room? Ow!” Jerry curses under his breath, hopping back and forth on his feet after banging his shin against the bedside table on his way back from the john. Dean chuckles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes as he lies stretched out on the bed.

“What, that bad?” Sonny asks Dean with amusement.

“She had a roommate. Where the hell can a fella get lucky in peace and quiet in this damn town?” Rolling his eyes, Dean sits up and lets out a soft hiss of air between his teeth. Drawing a cigarette from his pocket, he leans forward as Sonny whips out a lighter. Jerry’s sure it’s a normal cigarette, but between Dean’s stiff fingers, it seems at least half its size.

Clenching the cigarette between his teeth, Dean gets off the bed and pours himself a Scotch. Swallowing it in one gulp, he sighs and relaxes his shoulders before turning to them with a cocked eyebrow. “You’re not gonna let me drink this all by myself, are ya?”

Jerry shakes his head, offering a small smile, but he knows the strongest drink he’s had is a hot cocoa. Still, he knows he can’t pass up a Scotch from Dean. Holding up the bathroom tumbler to his lips, Jerry glances away, the strong smell of alcohol burning his nose and throat. But as Dean plays Sasquatch on his record player, Jerry tries to look as though he’s taken a few gulps of the stuff.

4 hours later—1 AM

Sonny slouches over at the foot of the bed, mouth open in a silent snore. Jerry’s on his stomach on the floor, enthralled as he gazes up at Dean lying on the bed, who’s telling him about his reasons for leaving Steubenville. Only an occasional slur of words gives away the fact that the half-empty glass in his hand is his third—or was it his fourth?

As he listens, Jerry isn’t tired enough to miss the ‘I don’t give a damn about anyone or anything’ that practically gushes from Dean’s words, but a small part of him wonders. Wonders if there’s bitterness behind that easy smile. Wonders if there’s a heart that got broken somewhere along the line.

“They call me the ‘Boy with the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Voice.’” Dean says, gazing up at the ceiling that’s stained with God knows what, and smiles grimly to himself. He knows there’s not much to it. Just a bunch of doe-eyed broads who think he’s all that because of the way he just is. He never did no training or nothin’, he just likes to sing, and he happens to have a face that was nice to look at.

Jerry, on the other hand, agrees completely with the title. Who wouldn’t? He wishes he could have just half of what Dean has. Not only could he get any dame he looked at, he was a man’s man.

Dean breaks from his trance and pulls out a couple of pictures from the dress shirt he stripped off in favor of a grey beater.

“And look at me, a family man, too.” He hands them down to Jerry, who marvels at the picture that looks like a promo for an MGM movie. A real family man, huh? He sure had the family, but the man doesn’t exactly act like he has one. Then again, no one in this business does.

“Gee, she’s real pretty, Dean.”

“Yeah, she is. Look at my kids there, too! That’s Craig, Claudia, and Gail.” He points them out and glances to Jerry’s face for his reaction before settling back on the bed.

“I’ve got a kid on the way, too.” Jerry pipes up, an excited grin on his face as Dean bolts up with a shocked expression. It isn’t something he anticipates seeing often, so Jerry studies Dean’s face for a moment just to remember.

“You’re kiddin’ me. How old are you, pally?”

“I just turned nineteen,” Jerry begins, a sudden blush crossing his cheeks. “But I’ve been married to Patti since October, and we have a baby due in July.” Feeling suddenly like he’s talking too much about himself, he abruptly asks, “How old are you?”

“Gettin’ up there. About to turn twenty eight.” Dean says slowly. When did he get that old? Oh well, he knew life would be like this, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Jerry counts the numbers in his head. Twenty eight. Nine years older than him. Dean could be his big brother. He always wanted a big brother.

#dean martin #jerry lewis #martin and lewis

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songficsbyrissi · 4 years

Text

Lost Ones (Spooky Diaz x Reader)

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, abortion, and deadbeat fathers.

“And I ain't too proud to tell you

That I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it

And girl, I know it hurt, but if this world was perfect

Then we could make it work, but I doubt it” - J. Cole

****************

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding the blue and white stick tightly like you didn’t just pee on it. For some reason, he thought staring at the digital screen would change from 1 word into 2. Unfortunately, it was still that one word.

Pregnant.

You, his girlfriend, was pregnant. When you had suspicions that you were pregnant, you secretly went to the store to purchase 3 pregnancy tests and once you took them, they all said that same word.

Pregnant.

You and Spooky were expecting a child and this was not good news at all.

“Oscar, please say something.” You whispered so softly, staring at him with dried tears on your face.

He remained silent, still staring at the test. His head was swimming with thoughts. Maybe you weren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s a prank and you were lying, but you were not this good of an actress. Besides, you would’ve busted out laughing by now.

Then the thought came to him that maybe it wasn’t his but that thought got shot down quickly in his head. You loved him with all your heart. You wouldn’t do that to him.

Did you purposely get pregnant? What happened to birth control? Then again, if you were to purposely get pregnant, you would be jumping in joy and not sitting on the floor in despair.

You got up from the floor and walked up to him, taking his hands. Your pleading eyes made contact with his.

“Please talk to me. Say something.”

Spooky finally spoke. “How did this happen?”

You sighed shaking your head. “Well when a man and a woman love each other very much or like each other or they’re just drunk enough, they wanna express it in a physical way which happens to produce a baby.”

Spooky had an unimpressed scowl on his face. “That’s not funny.”

“Do you see me laughing?” You shot back, tilting your head. Your head came back into its original position and you sighed once again.

“We need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? We can’t have a kid. Talk over.” Spooky got off the bathtub, tossing the pregnancy test in the trash. He washed his hands and went into the fridge to get a beer. All you could do was watch him do all this in shock. He chugged down the beer and you stared at him with your arms folded.

“Seriously, Spooky?”

He slammed the fridge close, glaring at you. “Seriously what? You really think it’ll be a good idea for us to have a child?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s not like we never talked about it.”

“Yeah, we talked about it. FOR THE FUTURE.” Spooky got close in your face, emphasizing the last 3 words. “The future where we’re older, smarter, making a lot of money and most importantly, married. We are none of that right now.”

“I know that, and I know that this isn’t the ideal situation to bring a baby in, but like it or not, it’s here.” Your arms were folded again. You were hoping he would have a better response to this.

“Not for long because you’re getting that abortion, right?” He questioned taking a swig of beer.

You had a look on your face, as if he slapped you hard across the face and spit in it. You could physically feel your heart break. The man you love doesn’t want you to have his child. You couldn’t believe it. He had to be joking. Spooky saw the shocked and hurt expression on your face and sighed. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He never means to hurt you but he had to be realistic here. This is a life that was being discussed.

“I’m not trying to fight with you, Princesa. I’ve just been actually thinking. How are we going to raise a kid by ourselves? We are only 23!” He gestured all around you. “Does this seem like a good place to raise a kid? This neighborhood is dangerous. Where are we going to move to? Somewhere safer? Somewhere safer costs more money. Baby, I’m an ex-con. Only the jobs that barely pay shit hire ex-cons. We can’t live off your little receptionist job alone!”

You didn’t say anything. You just kept staring

at him with tears in your eyes. He took it as a sign to continue.

“Listen, I don’t want to bring mi hijo or mi hija in this world if I ain’t got shit to give them. I’m not going to leave but you gotta really think about it. Would it be smart for us to bring a child into this?”

Once your boyfriend finished his speech, you just backed away from him and stared out the window where kids were playing jump rope and riding their bikes outside. Little girls playing patty-cake and hopscotch while little boys played basketball and tag. You couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on your face.

Looking out of the window gave you a bit of hope but Spooky didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to see it.

“We have less than 9 months to figure something out.” You croaked out, still staring at the scene outside the window.

You heard a frustrated sigh behind you. “You’re not getting it.”

You finally turned around with angry tears flowing down your face. “No! You’re not getting it! You must’ve forgotten all the conversations we had way back! You remember those fucking conversations, Oscar?!”

He stared at you as the flashback hit him.

“It’s really crazy how Toya got pregnant. We’re only 21. We just became legal to drink and now she can’t.” You sighed as you laid your head on your boyfriend’s lap as he watched TV. He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything. He was always a man of a few words. Part of the reason why people feared him so much. Other than his little brother Cesar, you were the only person he would actually hold a full conversation with and talk for hours.

“Baby?” You said as you rose from his lap making eye contact with him. His hooded eyes focused on you. “What if we-“

“We’re not.” Spooky cut you off, already knowing where you were going with this.

“But what if.....we did?” You questioned softly. “And what would we do about it?”

Spooky groaned throwing his head back. “It’s not gonna happen. We’re smart.”

You folded your arms. “Smart people get pregnant too.” Your boyfriend inhaled deeply and didn’t say anything.

“The only 100% effective way to prevent pregnancy is not having sex and we’re obviously not going to do that.” You stated causing your boyfriend to snort in amusement and you elbowed him, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, Oscar. What if I was to get pregnant now? What would we do? What would you do?”

“I would do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are good. No matter what. The baby’s created and we gotta take responsibility because God don’t make mistakes. So if we tried to prevent it and you still ended up pregnant, we would just have to deal with it and make sure our child is born into a good situation.”

You just blinked because you were relieved that he wasn’t dismissing this conversation. He was actually thinking realistically. You saw him clench the bottle of beer he was drinking in anger.

“My father.....left me and Cesar and I still hate him for it. How am I supposed to be a father to him if I never got the chance to be a son? I always told myself that I would never put my child in that situation. It just starts a fucked up cycle and who knows when that cycle will be broken?”

Oscar shook his head as if he was trying to shake tears that were threatening to fall away. He took another drink of the beer. “I refuse to be him. I refuse to be a coward and turn my back on what I created.”

You smiled planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You’ll never be him.”

“Or did you forget that? Did you forget telling me that you wouldn’t turn your back on this? On us?”

“I’m not turning my back! I’m thinking realistically, Y/N!” Spooky began to shout now. He rarely shouted at you. That’s how you knew you were really under his skin.

“Oh really? Your exact words were-“

“I know what my exact words were! What you’re not getting is I changed my mind. People change, Y/N.”

You snorted in disbelief, laughing sardonically. “You sure did.”

“Don’t do that,” Spooky warned in a low voice coming closer but you didn’t back down.

“No! Fuck you Oscar! I should’ve known this is how you would act! You said you love me, now look at you! Singing a different song now that shit got real! I should’ve known you weren’t different from the rest. The rest of those guys who say whatever to get what they want! I LET YOU HIT RAW!” You pushed his chest as hard as you could, with your chest heaving up and down. “I let you fuck me raw, and now, I’m pregnant and you got the nerve to get in my face, talking about some abortion. This is my body, Oscar! I’m not aborting this baby! The only person taking this baby from me is God and last time I checked, YOU AIN’T GOD!”

“Y/N-“

“No! Shut the fuck up! I let you speak, and now it’s my turn!” You shoved a finger in his face as tears continued to roll down your face. “I’m going to love this baby, with or without you! My mom raised me by herself, and I’ll do the same with this child! I still don’t understand how you could be standing in my face, saying that when you said you hated your father and you would never be like your father! That you wouldn’t do that shit he pulled, but look at you! Doing the same shit! You ain’t shit! You ain’t shit to me, and as far as this child is concerned, you ain’t gonna be shit to them either.”

You got out of his sight, still holding a hand to your belly, and headed into the bathroom to continue crying your eyes out.

Spooky took a deep breath, trying to figure something out. He figured you didn’t mean what you said. You were just really upset. He had to make a decision. Stay here and wait for you to come out so you can probably talk about this or go out for a drive, giving you and him some space to cool down. He chose the latter, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

On the drive, Spooky watched the scene where kids were playing and having fun. He began reminiscing about the times when Cesar was little and he would play with him outside. He remembered the tiny smile on his innocent face. He remembered how scary it was keeping Cesar safe on his own but he did it. He managed to raise his brother on his own and seeing that Cesar doesn’t want to be part of the Santos, he’d like to think he did a pretty good job.

Spooky doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to drive right to the park where he and his brother used to play on. There were still kids there. His hazel eyes focused on a little girl being helped by her dad on the monkey bars, giggling uncontrollably. Somehow, the little girl turned a little boy and her dad became....his dad. The little boy was him. He saw his younger self grin as he hung off the monkey bars and his father giving him a small smirk. The grin dropped a little. That memory happened before his father left his life and never came back.

“What about your seed, man?” His younger self looked straight at him and asked. Spooky’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he could’ve sworn he was seeing things.

“What about your seed?”

The vision returned back to the little girl smiling as she finished the monkey bars with her father grinning in pride. She hugged her father’s legs and he lifted her up, kissing her cheek repeatedly as she giggled in happiness. It was a beautiful sound.

He pulled off after he came to the conclusion that you and him had a lot to discuss. Maybe, he was too hasty, telling you to abort the baby. Maybe he was just scared and freaked out that he wanted the easy out but now he’s realizing it’s not necessarily what he wanted. But you were not going to find that out while he was out. He gotta go back home to you.

“Y/N?”

This house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Spooky began to investigate. He went into the bedrooms and the bathroom. No sign of you anywhere. Your clothes were gone and you left no trace of you anywhere. You left him.

He took his phone out of his pocket to call you when a piece of paper on the counter caught his attention. It was handwritten and it only said two words.

You won.

Spooky clenched the note, falling onto the chair and just kept staring at those two words that managed to completely break his heart. What hurt the most is that he wasn’t sure what you meant by saying he won. Did you leave him for good, dedicated to being a single mother or did you change your mind, got the abortion, and left him because you hated him? Either way, you were wrong.

He was no winner at all in this situation.

TAGS: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay

If you wanna be added or removed, just let me knowwwww

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backtothestart02 · 3 years

Text

A Pair of Lips I Can Kiss - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I know...I know...another new fic. And a multi-chap at that. But writer’s block is slowly killing me, so whatever I’m inspired for I’m pretty much writing at this point. Hopefully it won’t last. Enjoy this chap!

...

Synopsis: 2x13 - Canon Divergent - Barry’s trip to Earth 2 goes somewhat differently after Iris surprises him the night before he leaves.

...

Chapter 1 -

At the West house that evening, Iris sat in silence after dinner as she listened to Barry talk. She wasn’t smiling and neither was her dad. It wasn’t a topic either of them would’ve ever thought would pass Barry’s lips, and it was making Iris more nervous and depressed by the second. She couldn’t speak for her dad, but she was pretty sure he would make his feelings known eventually.

Why did Barry need to go to Earth 2? She thought. What could he do there that he couldn’t also accomplish here?

“Did you tell Henry?” Joe asked.

An excellent point.

Barry shared a meaningful look with Iris. She made no point of hiding exactly how she felt regarding the trip. He quickly looked away.

“No,” he admitted. “If he knew, he would just try to talk me out of it, and…he probably would, so.”

Well, if Henry can, maybe so can I, Iris thought.

“Dad.” She turned to Joe. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Yeah,” he said, probably as eager as she was to take the reins on this one. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

Barry, however, hardly waited until Joe had left the room before cutting off the beginning of Iris’ interrogation.

“Look, Iris, I know that this is…” he trailed off. “Nuts is the only word I can think of right now.”

She nodded, barely suppressing rolling her eyes.

“But it’s not like I’ve never done anything dangerous before.”

She mulled over her own thoughts and tried to take a breather.

“Look, I get why you are doing this,” she said. “Innocent people are in danger. That’s always been the direction that you’ve run in, even…even when you ran a little bit slower.”

That brought a soft laugh from him and a gentle smile from her. It didn’t last.

“I just…I want to make sure that you’re not doing this because you think you don’t have anything left here anymore.”

That wasn’t the whole truth, but it was all she was willing to reveal at this particular moment.

His face shifted in realization.

“This isn’t about Patty.”

She gave him a look.

“It’s not.”

She didn’t believe him.

“I mean, yeah, of course, I miss her. A lot. But…I know what I have here. I love my life. I love my job, being the Flash.”

A soft laugh fell out of her this time, her eyes twinkling up at him and that gorgeous, cocky grin of his. Did he notice how much she loved it?

“I love you and Joe.”

She nodded, only slightly put off that he’d put her and her dad in the same sentence when she wanted it to be just her. Was that selfish? Why would she want that? Of course she wanted him to love her dad too.

She just wanted to be loved…differently.

“I’m not trying to escape, I promise.”

Smiling now from the reassurance in that confident Flash voice of his, she decided that maybe her worries had been for nothing.

“Go win, Barry, and then come home.”

“Alright.”

But just in case her worries were justified, even in the slightest way, and wanting to make sure he really would want to come home to her – to everything he’d just said – she decided to take the plunge. She’d been in denial for months and she knew it. Patty may not have died, but Iris was starting to feel as if Barry’s nostalgia for her was similar to how she felt about Eddie now. Missing him but no longer overwhelmed by grief and despair and guilt.

And wanting…well, what was right in front of her and had been for almost her entire life.

She stood up and rounded the table until she was standing right beside Barry still sitting in his seat. She didn’t know what could possibly be going through his head. Maybe that she’d come to hug him? Or to tell her dad that he could re-enter their eating space? But he certainly didn’t expect her to – after sharing a brief smile with him – lean down, hold his chin between two of her fingers and plant a kiss on his lips.

But that was exactly what she did.

It was soft and warm, more than a peck but nothing passionate. She was still testing the waters after all, seeing if he still felt the same.

When she pulled back and released her grip on him, she found him staring at her in shock. He didn’t say anything, and she worried that her assumptions about his feelings for her having not changed despite being with Patty for a few months were completely off. Still, she didn’t regret it. It was one kiss. It wouldn’t ruin their entire friendship.

“Something for you to think about when you’re on Earth 2,” she said, then straightened and turned around, heading – probably – to the kitchen to get her dad.

Barry shook his head.

“Uh-uh.”

Incredulous, he practically jumped to his feet, then grabbed her hand, spinning her around until she was flush up against him. One hand on her waist, the other cupping her cheek, he met her eyes for the briefest of seconds before lowering his lips to hers for another kiss. This one was passionate.

“Bar-Barry,” she sputtered, pulling back before he stole all her breath.

He pressed his forehead to hers.

“Now,” he said, not bothering to apologize for taking her off guard. He could get used to her being breathless beneath him. She had, after all, reciprocated his kiss, just as he had hers. “Why did you kiss me?”

Iris was finding it hard to think now.

“Is it safe to come out?” Joe called from the kitchen.

Iris panicked, her eyes flashing open. She met Barry’s the second his hand covered her lips.

“Don’t you dare answer him before you answer me,” he whispered.

“I…”

“Iris?” Joe called.

“Just another minute, Joe,” Barry calmly called out, and Joe nodded inside the kitchen.

“Okay, no worries. I’ll just be in here drinking the whole pot of coffee.”

Barry and Iris quietly laughed at his antics. Iris relaxed in his arms until his fingers grazed her neck and a delicious chill sent a shiver running up and down her back.

“I’ve bought you 60 seconds, Iris,” Barry said quietly. “Less than, now.”

“I…I don’t…I mean…” She licked her lips. “I don’t know exactly. It’s just how I feel when I’m around you, and what I want, and I wanted you to know that before you maybe run into my doppelgänger over there and find her less complicated than I am.”

Barry’s eyes went wide.

“I’m coming out,” Joe announced.

Barry was too frozen in shock to say anything to the contrary, and Iris was embarrassed. She slipped out of his embrace and went back to sit down.

“Bring that coffee with you, Dad. I think I’d like a cup, if you haven’t finished it all already.”

Reluctantly, Barry returned to his seat.

“Now what kind of man do you think I am, Iris?”

She gave a pointed look to the half-gone pot of coffee he brought to the table.

“You’re going to be awake tonight.”

Barry chuckled, despite himself, and Iris shared a quick smiling glance with him before focusing entirely back on her father and the three of them for the rest of the evening. Not so much as acknowledging the kiss or the sort-of confession that had come after it before leaving to go home.

“Iris kissed me,” Barry said later that evening.

“What?” Joe burst.

Barry turned around when he realized he was not alone.

“Oh. You heard that.”

“Yeah, I heard it.” Joe sighed before sitting down on the sofa next to him. “I suppose I can’t stop you two. Assuming you kissed her back, of course.”

Barry’s eyes were wide as he nodded.

“Obviously. Of course.”

“Well, did she say anything afterwards? Or before? Is this why- oh, God. Is this why I was stuck in the kitchen for longer than necessary?”

Barry didn’t respond.

“Barry.”

He blinked out of his trance and looked at Joe.

“Huh?”

Joe sighed.

“So, are you staying or going?”

His brows furrowed.

“Hmm?”

“Did the kiss change anything?”

“No,” Barry said, and Joe frowned. “Not about me going to Earth 2. That’s set in stone. Iris and I talked it out before we-”

“Made out?” Joe muttered into his umpteenth coffee cup.

Barry tensed. “We didn’t…make out…necessarily.”

Though it certainly had felt like they had the second time around.

“Right.”

“I’m not going to let it drop, Joe. When I get back we’re talking things out. If she’s recovered enough from Eddie’s death to kiss me, then she can talk about her feelings for me again too.”

Joe smiled to himself.

“Good.”

Barry said nothing, but throughout the rest of the evening, Iris never left his thoughts. She’d be in his thoughts every moment he was on Earth 2, waiting to come home to her. He was ready to start his life again.

...

*will post on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #a pair of lips i can kiss #chapter 1

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krat395 · 3 years

Text

Gorgeously Glamorous Gargalesis (Chapter 10)

Feet! Mettaton has feet! :D And no, I’m not talking about his pink boots! I’m talking about what’s inside his boots! A gray pair of metallic human-like feet! :D Ten toes and everything! And as a bonus, they have pink hearts on their arches! X3 Cute, right? Well, don’t you think it’s about time they get what’s coming to them? That being, an extremely thorough tickling. I know I do! Along with two pairs of extremely ticklish lizard monster feet! That’s right. The only way Mettaton will let Asriel, MK, and Rex tickle him and his feet is if Rocco and Lydia get the same exact treatment alongside him. Well, no complaints there! Lol XD So I guess the only thing left to say is, give the Mettaton, Rocco, and Lydia’s tootsies hell, boys! And maybe their upper bodies too, just for good measure! ;)

******************************************

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

******************************************

GORGEOUSLY GLAMOROUS GARGALESIS

Chapter 10: The Grand Finale

A few minutes later… outside the closet...

Mettaton: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *laughed Mettaton once more before stopping entirely* Ohohohoh my gohohod! Finally! Hahahahahahaha! Thahahahank you! Hahahahahahaha! Oh, thahahank you sohohoho much! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Eeeeeeeeeee! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha… Hahahahahahahahahaha… Hahahahahahaha… Hahaha… Haha… Haha… Ha… Ha… Ha...

Mettaton has just stopped laughing, which can only mean one thing. Rex is no longer tickling his feet! And with Rex no longer tickling his feet, Mettaton himself can now show the boys how to operate his contraptions while the lizard parents roll the extra one in and retract the wheels when it's placed where Mettaton wants it so it doesn't roll anywhere on them. But before any of that can happen, Mettaton would like to first reattach his legs.

Rocco: Here you go, Mettaton. *said Rocco with a chuckle, placing Mettaton's legs by his torso without his boots* Consider this a peace offering.

Mettaton: Oh, Lizard Dad, thank you so much! *effeminate laugh* Hello, beauties! *said Mettaton while reattaching his legs* Did you miss… wait, my… my boots! MY BOOTS! *he then freaked out once he noticed his boots were missing*

Lydia: Heeheeheeheeheehee! Yes? What about them, young man? *asked Lydia cheekily*

Mettaton: They're… They're gone! W-w-where are they?! Where are they?! What did you do with them?! *asked Mettaton worriedly, wondering where his boots are and why the lizard parents didn't give them back along with his entire lower body*

Rocco: Hahahahahaha! We hid them. Oh, but don't you worry, Johnny 5. Hahahaha! They're in a safe place. *claimed Rocco with a mischievous smile* (In the crawlspace in the closet. Hahahahaha!)

Mettaton: What… what the… Why the hell would you hide my boots?!

Lydia: Heeheeheehee! Why, to be sure that you fulfill your end of our deal, of course!

Rocco: Hahahaha! That's right. When we made our deal, you told us that the boys could tickle your feet. Those boots… are not your feet. Get the picture?

Mettaton: Uh… *robot cough* Well… Um… Hmm… Well...

Lydia: Yes, do you get the picture, young man? We don’t care if those boots are your equivalent of socks; they were never your real feet to begin with and they never will be either. *Lydia pointed out, announcing to everyone that Mettaton’s feet, ankles, and calves can feel tickles even when they’re protected by his boots*

Mettaton: Um……… (Damn you, you adorable lizard parents! You found another loophole in our agreement! It’s my job to find loopholes in agreements and/or contracts; not yours!)

Rocco and Lydia: ………

Mettaton: ………*sigh* Fine, yes. Yes, I get the picture. …God damn it! Why did Alphys have to design those scanners to work with any lizard tail?! *asked Mettaton in disbelief, prompting Rocco, Lydia, MK, and Asriel to look at him with confused expressions on their faces*

Asriel: Um… wow… ok, you're gonna have to explain that one to us, Mettaton.

Mettaton: (Oh crap! Not again!) *thought Mettaton to himself while bringing himself to his feet, disappointedly due to failing to keep yet another secret from Asriel and the lizards* Woooaaaah! *he then shouted, losing his balance briefly but regaining it just before he could fall (he lost his balance because he's used to the heels on his boots)* Scanners in the backs of my knees. I can remove my boots by sticking my index fingers in these holes for a few seconds. Or… *sigh* Alphys can remove them… instantly by inserting the tip of her tail in the holes.

In response to Mettaton's claim, everyone with the exception of Rex took a closer look at the backs of Mettaton's knees and what they saw left them all in shock.

Lydia: *gasp* Oh my goodness! They look just like Rex's tail scanner on his toy box!

MK: Holy moly! Holy moly, I knew those things looked familiar! Gosh darn it, Mettaton! Frisk, Chara, Blooky, and I could've tickled your feet last Wednesday?! And all I had to do to get your boots off was poke the backs of your knees with my tail?!

Mettaton: Yep. *answered Mettaton awkwardly, embarrassed that MK mentioned something about him being tickle tortured last Wednesday at Toriel's house; despite already telling the lizard parents about that incident himself*

MK: Oh man! Why did I have to tickle your knees with my fingers instead of my tail?! I considered using my tail! Why didn't I use my tail?!

Asriel: Because you needed something strong to hold his legs together. You said it yourself, MK. If you had let go of Mettaton's legs, he surely would've escaped!

MK: Heh. Oh yeah, good point.

Asriel: You're very talented with your tail, MK. *Asriel complimented* Why you couldn't hold umbrellas with it at one point is beyond me. Speaking of which, why couldn't you hold any of those Waterfall umbrellas with your tail, MK? You've got a strong tail, and umbrellas aren't that heavy. Why did you have so much trouble trying to hold one of those umbrellas?

MK: Um……...

Asriel struck a nerve there with MK. There's a good reason why the young lizard boy had problems holding umbrellas around the time he met Frisk but he doesn't want to tell Asriel what that reason is until the following Saturday when he demonstrates his magic to him and his sisters. So, to help MK keep his secret, Rocco and Lydia chimed in; and told Asriel that the umbrellas were simply too awkward to hold with a tail alone. That and they pointed out how much time the boys have until Frisk, Chara, GK, Izzy, and Patty call to video chat with the two of them. Two hours from now, the five girls all have something they'd like to show the two monster boys and Chara let them know in advance via text messages. The boys found it unusual of Chara to text them so early in advance. "Why not just show us right now?" the boys wondered after reading Chara's message. Well, whatever it is the girls want to show them, they're certain that it will be worth the wait. And while they're waiting, they can tickle Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton! For a very, very long time! :D

Asriel and MK: *gasp* Oh yeah, that's right.

Lydia: Mm-hmm. And one of the things you can do while you're waiting is tickle the three of us. *said Lydia cheekily, wagging her tail and wiggling her six toes against the floor*

Rocco: *gasp* Oooooh. Yeah, it's getting to be around that time, isn't it? Hahahaha! Well then let's get started! Mettaton, show the boys how to operate those thingamabobbers of yours while this armless cutie and I roll the third one out here, will you? *instructed Rocco, making Lydia blush and Mettaton look at him with a "Don't tell me what to do!" look on his face XD*

Despite looking a bit annoyed, Mettaton did as he was told and while teaching the boys, he was pleased to see them quickly catch on to his instructions. The boys know a thing or two about engineering and robotics thanks to Gaster and Alphys; mostly by watching the two scientists themselves work but also by assisting them when given the opportunity to do so. And Sans too! But mostly Gaster and Alphys; Asriel learning more from the former and MK learning more from the latter. Meanwhile, Rocco and Lydia rolled out the third contraption; one with colors that represent the two of them! It had a chair that was two shades of yellow; the left half Rocco's skin color and the right half Lydia's skin color; and a set of stocks that were their favorite colors; the left half navy blue (Rocco's favorite color) and the right half burgundy (Lydia's favorite color). "Heh. Interesting color choices, Mettaton." the two lizard parents wondered to themselves while rolling it out into the open. But there's a reason why he made them those colors and a damn good reason too! He built his third tickling contraption as a present for Rocco and Lydia! :D Mettaton's no dummy! He knows that Rocco and Lydia enjoy tickling each other as much as they enjoy tickling their kids. X3

A few minutes later… after the third contraption was all set up…

Rocco: Ok, we're all set here! Haha!

Mettaton: *effeminate laugh* Beautiful, darling! Only question now is: who’s going to sit where?

Three tickling contraptions; the Mettaton EX-colored one on the left, the Rectangle Mettaton-colored one in the middle, and the Lizard parents-colored one on the right; who's going to sit where? Well, after thinking about it for at least 30 seconds, the three adults ultimately settled on lining up in order oldest to youngest; 41-year-old Rocco in the left pink chair with his large scaly 3-toed feet locked in black, light gray, and white stocks, 36-year-old Lydia in the middle gray chair with her scaly 3-toed feet locked in white, red, black, and yellow stocks, and 26-year-old Mettaton in the right yellow chair with his metal 5-toed feet locked in navy blue and burgundy stocks.

Lydia: Heeheeheehee! Well alrighty then! Heeheeheeheehee! Lock us in, boys. Ooh, but first… here you go, Rex! *said Lydia, handing her burgundy feather to Rex with her tail* Use this, my little hero… in addition to your fingers, toes, and tail. Heeheeheeheehee!

Rex: Ooooooooooooo… *cooed Rex happily, smiling big while grabbing his mother's feather with his tail*

Mettaton: Ooh, that reminds me. Here, darlings. These are for you. *said Mettaton to Asriel and MK, handing the former a black feather and the latter a pink feather after retrieving them from a compartment in his left thigh* Use them well. *he cooed, positioning himself in the yellow chair*

Rocco: Hahaha! And these too, boys! *Rocco chimed in, surprising everyone in the room when he handed Asriel a green toothbrush, MK a yellow toothbrush, and Rex a red toothbrush; due to how effective toothbrushes are on his big sensitive feet, even if the ones he just handed the boys were non-electric ones*

After locking the three adults in the contraptions, the boys took a few seconds of their time to decide who should tickle who first. Three boys, three adults; one boy for each adult locked in the stocks. Just like when they tickled Rocco’s feet earlier today, the three boys will tickle the adults on a rotating basis. Two full rotations to be exact; plus two set periods of time (one in between the two rotations and one after the second rotation) where they’ll let the contraptions tickle the adults on their own. But to start, Asriel will tickle Rocco (oldest child, oldest adult), MK will tickle Lydia (middle child, middle adult), and Rex will tickle Mettaton (youngest child, youngest adult) and during the first phase, they are planning to focus entirely on their feet without any assistance from the contraptions. With Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton’s feet trapped in stocks, it’s hard to pass up an opportunity to tickle their feet with their fingers, toes, tails, and feathers and toothbrushes as well. Especially with their soles all taut and each of their individual toes tied to the stocks to render their feet nearly immobile during the next 40-60 minutes! :D

Moments later…

Asriel: Hahaha! Ok, dude, we ready to start?

MK: Not quite! We gotta get a chair for Rex first! *MK pointed out, noticing that Rex is too short to reach the Mettaton’s feet from the floor*

Asriel: Oh, right! Say, that red one over there should do nicely, don’t you think? *asked Asriel, pointing at a red chair that can be lifted by two strong pre-teen boys if they work together*

MK: Really? That one? Kinda heavy, don’t you think?

Asriel: Pfft. Not if we carry it together! Come on, you want Rex to be safe and comfortable at the same time, don’t you?

MK: Well, yeah, of course I do! He’s my baby brother!

Asriel: Then help me move that chair over here, please!

With that said, the boys moved the somewhat heavy red chair over to the contraption all the way on the right and when they slid it up tight against the stocks, it was a perfect fit! Mettaton’s heels were just above the edge of the seat cushion and Rex had enough room to maneuver with armrests serving as guard rails.

Rex: *coos* Gagabooboodidaba! Heeheeheeheehee!

MK: Heeheeheeheehee! You’re very welcome, Rex! *said MK, even if he couldn’t understand what Rex was saying*

After Rex was all situated, he, Asriel, and MK began tickling the three adults’ feet and they continued doing so for the next 15 minutes on a rotating basis in three 5-minute intervals; the only breaks being the moments when Asriel and MK moved the red chair from one contraption to another for Rex. During the first five-minute interval, Asriel tickled Rocco’s feet, MK tickled Lydia’s feet, and Rex tickled Mettaton’s feet.

Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! *shrieked Mettaton the moment he felt the tip of a long tail and tiny claws scribble against his metal soles* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHHO, REHEHEHEX, NOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! NOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOT AGAIN! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!

Rocco and Lydia: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP/EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *laughed the lizard parents hysterically the moment they felt the older boys’ tails and fingers tickle their soles*

Then during the second five-minute interval, Asriel tickled Mettaton’s feet, MK tickled Rocco’s feet, and Rex tickled Lydia’s feet.

Lydia: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!! *shrieked Lydia the moment she felt a feather twiddle in between her toes* GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHA!! OHOHOHOH, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, STAHAHAHAHARTING OUT WITH MOHOHOHOHOMMY’S FEHEHEHEATHER, ARE WE?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! BOHOHOHOHOLD CHOICE, REX! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!

Rocco and Mettaton: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!! *laughed Rocco and Mettaton frantically, clawed toes wiggling up and down the former soles and furry toes wiggling up and down the latter’s soles*

Then during the third and final five-minute interval of the first rotation, Asriel tickled Lydia’s feet, MK tickled Mettaton’s feet, and Rex tickled Rocco’s feet.

Rocco: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! OHOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOHO, NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHAHAT!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!! *Rocco “sang” in a hilarious way, Rex scrubbing the balls of his big feet and in between his toes with a red toothbrush* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Lydia and Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! *Lydia and Mettaton laughed maniacally, Asriel and MK doing the same to their feet with their green (Asriel) and yellow (MK) toothbrushes*

After tickling the adults’ feet with their fingers, toes, and tails as well as feathers and toothbrushes, Asriel and MK moved the red chair away from Rocco’s stocks and prepared the contraptions’ tickle modes. In a few seconds, the boys will let the contraptions tickle the adults on their own but how they will tickle them is up to the boys. There are two options. 1. They can do what Mettaton did; deploy one or a few feather rollers at a time and then spin the fuzzy wires around their toes; or 2. They can just deploy and activate everything all at once. …They chose the latter. They took a vote and it was unanimous. XD

Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEP/EEEEEEEEEEK/EEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!

At the press of a button on each of the contraptions' control panels, the boys deployed every single feather roller they could and more. Poor Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton! 12 feather rollers rolling up and down their taut soles (4 for each adult), 22 mini feather rollers rolling up and down the pads of each of their toes (6 for each lizard parent, 10 for Mettaton), 16 mini feather rollers rolling against every individual space in between their toes (4 for each lizard parent, 8 for Mettaton), and 22 fuzzy wires spinning rapidly around the bases and stems of each of their toes (6 for each lizard parent, 10 for Mettaton); the moment every single one of those things began tickling their soles and toes, they screamed with hearty laughter that echoed throughout the entire basement and involuntarily begged for mercy after just two seconds of outlandish tickle torture. Well, Rocco and Lydia did. Mettaton on the other hand commented on the boys' decision to activate everything all at once, criticizing and praising them at the same time.

Lydia: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! OHOHOHOH MY GOOHOOHOOHOODNESS!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MEHEHEHERCY, BOHOHOHOYS!!! HAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAAHA!!! MEHEHEHEHERCY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHAHA!!!

Rocco: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! SHUT IT OFF, BOHOHOHOYS!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! SHUHUHUHUHUHUT IT OFF!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Mettaton: HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OHOHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOD, HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, YOU BOHOHOHOYS ACTIVATED, EHEHEHEHEHEHEVERYTHING AHAHAHHALL AT ONCE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! SHAHAHHAHAME ON YOU!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! ALSO, WEHEHEHELL DOHOHOHONE!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

For five minutes, the boys let the contraptions tickle the adults' feet on their own and while this was happening, the boys just kicked back and watched them work; Asriel sitting on the couch with his bare feet up on a footrest and Rex sitting on his lap and MK sitting next to them with his bare feet up as well. It was quite the joy seeing Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton's priceless reactions to the tickle torture and hearing their hearty laughter. And there will surely be more of it once some upper body tickling is thrown into the mix. But before deploying the hands out of the chairs, the boys would like to do some upper body tickling themselves; with their fingers, toes, tails, feathers, and toothbrushes on a rotating basis once again while the feather rollers and fuzzy wires continue tickling their feet. The only problem with that plan is that Rocco and Mettaton can still move their arms whenever they please. Or so they thought. After playing around with the contraptions' control panels for a few seconds, they found out that they can use the contraptions' arms to hold Rocco and Mettaton's arms above their heads, giving them easy access to their armpits and sides, and also grab arms if someone were to deploy/grow a second pair. XD None for Lydia since she doesn't have a physical pair of arms and has difficulty summoning her magic ones while she's being tickled. Especially on her feet!

Mettaton: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OHOHOHOH NOHOHOHO!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! YOU FOHOHOHOUND OUT, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, ABOUT, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, THE AHAHAHAHARMS' SECOND FUHUHUHUNCTION!!! *shouted Mettaton through his laughter, both him and Rocco struggling to move their arms* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Rocco and Lydia: HAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHA HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

Now that Rocco and Mettaton can't move their arms, the boys can begin the upper body tickling phase. For fifteen minutes, in three five-minute intervals, the boys will tickle the adults' upper bodies (armpits, sides, necks, ribs, bellies, and hips) on a rotating basis and while rotating, one of the older boys will have to move Rex over from one adults' lap to another since the chairs are too tall for him to climb on or off of without any assistance. Due to Rex's small size, he will need to sit or stand in the chair with at least one of his victims at all times. But as for the two older boys themselves, they can either stand next to their victims as they tickle them or sit on their victims' legs or laps in the chairs. They'll have to do the latter if they plan on tickling them with all of their toes at once. But for the most part, they can just stand beside them.

Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEEEP/EEEEEEEEEEEEK/EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAAHAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

During the first five-minute interval, Asriel tickled Rocco, lifting his shirt when necessary to effectively tickle him with his fluffy tail, MK tickled Lydia, and Rex tickled Mettaton.

Rocco: YAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! *yelled Rocco the moment he felt fluffy tail fur brush against his belly after Asriel lifted his shirt up a little* HAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! FUHUHUHUHUR!!! HAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! NOHOHOT THE FUHUHUHUR, NOHOHOHOT THE FUHUHUHUR!!! OOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA EEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Lydia and Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!

Then during the second-minute interval, Asriel tickled Mettaton, MK tickled Rocco, and Rex tickled Lydia and at one point during this interval, Asriel leaned over Mettaton in a crab walk position to effectively brush tail against his core. XD He had no choice due to how short it is compared to the lizards’ tails.

Rocco and Lydia: EEEEEEEEEEP/EEEEEEEEEEK!!! *the lizard parents squealed and shrieked the moment they felt the tips of their sons' tails swirling inside their bellybuttons; MK's tail swirling inside Rocco's bellybutton underneath his Henley shirt and Rex's tail swirling inside Lydia's bellybutton on the outside of her silk dress* HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHA!!! NOHOHO, BOYS, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEP/EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Mettaton: BWAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! SIRE, NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! *pleaded Mettaton the moment he felt Asriel's fluffy tail brush against his heart-shaped core, his most ticklish spot* HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHA!!! SOHOHOHOHOHO FLUHUHUHUFFY!!! HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! WHY DOHOHO YOU HAHAHAHAVE TO BE SOHOHOHOHO FLHUHUHUHUHUFFY?!?! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Then last but not least, during the third five-minute interval, Asriel tickled Lydia (with everything but his tail since he had no access to any bare spots on her torso), MK tickled Mettaton, and Rex tickled Rocco.

Lydia: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! *shrieked Lydia the moment she felt Asriel's furry toes wiggling against her neck* HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! AZZY, YOU FIEEHEEHEEHEEHEEND!!! *she then shouted without any actual spite, shaking her head as much as she could* HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!! OHOHOHOH MY GOOHOOHOODNESS, THAHAHAHAHAT TICKLES SOHOHOHO MUCH!!! *she claimed, making Asriel giggle in response* HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Rocco and Mettaton: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!! SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO DOHOHOHOHOES THIS!!! *claimed Rocco and Mettaton at the same time through their hearty laughter, Rex and MK wiggling their clawed toes up and down their bellies* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Rocco: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA UUUUUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

Mettaton: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!!! MK, DAHAHAHHARLING, STOHOHOHOP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STOHOHOHOHOP!!! HAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOHOHOHOUR TOHOHOHOES ARE GOHOHOHOHING TO MAKE ME BLOHOHOHOW A FUHUHUHUSE!!! *claimed Mettaton while continuing to laugh, making MK proud to know that his toes are super effective against the glamorous robot himself* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!

After the third and final rotation, Asriel and MK, after removing Rex from Rocco's lap, stopped tickling the adults and moved over to the contraptions' control panels. Tickling the adults' upper bodies with their fingers, toes, tails, feathers, and toothbrushes while the contraptions tickle their feet with feather rollers and fuzzy wires was fun and after fulfilling that objective, they deployed all of the other hands out of the chairs and made them, along with the ones that were already out, tickle the adults' upper bodies for the rest of the session while they sit back on the couch and watch; both boys sitting next to each other with their feet up on a footrest and Rex sitting either next to them or on one of their laps. For the rest of the session, each of the three adults had 8 hands tickling their upper bodies; 2 hands kneading their sides and hips, 2 hands wiggling their fingers in the hollows of their armpits (or in Lydia's case, where her armpits would be if she had arms like Rocco), 2 hands kneading their ribs, and 2 hands scribbling their fingers against their bellies. Plus feather rollers tickling their soles, the pads of their toes, and the spaces in between their toes AND fuzzy wires spinning around the bases and stems of their toes! They were in hell! At least 15 minutes of pure unholy ticklish hell as what was essentially the most maniacal laughter heard today poured from their mouths and echoed throughout the entire basement and first floor of the house! And they enjoyed every second of it! Even Mettaton, the least ticklish of the three adults! Speaking of Mettaton, he is planning to visit Muffet again this upcoming Friday; to tickle her a second time with help from Blooky, who will be at Muffet's house by the time he shows up there. And next time, he'll be sure to tickle her with his contraptions and mini Mettatons; even if he has to do so before or after participating in an epic tickle battle with Muffet and Blooky against a certain powerful individual. But what are the chances of something like that happening? XD

Rocco, Lydia, and Mettaton: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!

After the tickle session was over, Asriel and MK turned off the contraptions and asked the adults if they were ok; and fortunately, they were. Then during the remainder of their waiting period, Mettaton told everyone a story about the first time he ever tickled Alphys. It was a cute story from start to finish and it explained why he enjoys tickling feet more than every other part of the body. Then shortly after Mettaton finished telling his story, Asriel and MK hugged him goodbye and went upstairs to MK's room to video chat with their sisters as well as Izzy and Patty. Just as the boys predicted, Frisk and Chara were right on schedule to not only chat with them but also to show them something very special. Their hands with painted fingernails and their feet in brand new pairs of flip flops with painted toenails! :D Frisk and Chara did it! They finally caved and let Izzy and Patty paint their nails! Being the tomboyish girls that they are, they've never once had their nails painted and have never had any desire to have them painted. Same goes for flip flops. All their lives, they've never had any desire to wear flip flops. But after basically being worn down by Izzy and Patty, two girls that almost always have their nails painted and regularly wear flip flops during 3 of the 4 seasons, however, they changed their minds and what the boys saw was a beautiful sight; Frisk in blue flip flops with magenta nail polish and Chara in brown flip flops with red nail polish. Both boys couldn't stop blushing to save their own lives! And that was just the beginning! After Frisk and Chara finished showing off their hands and feet, Izzy and Patty showed off their new fresh coats of nail polish on their fingers and toes as well. They even put on their flip flops; just for Asriel and MK. The two boys probably would've enjoyed seeing their feet more without any footwear whatsoever but it was still a nice gesture nonetheless. XD And as usual, Izzy had blue nail polish and pink flip flops and Patty had cyan nail polish and white flip flops. But that wasn't all! After Izzy and Patty finished showing off their nails to the boys, GK, stepped in and propped her feet up to show off her claws! Yes, even GK had her claws painted; dark gray to match her dark gray pants as well as the dark gray sections on her checker-patterned shirt. Yes, GK is wearing dark gray pants and a checker-patterned shirt today. She doesn't always wear dark gray leggings and a checker-patterned mini dress. Overall, what the girls did for the boys was pretty dang cute. And to top it all off, all five of them texted the boys pictures of their hands and feet shortly after they finished video chatting with them. Sure, it was mostly pics of their painted nails/claws but they included some pics of their soles as well just for good measure, which made MK especially happy. X3 Then after looking at the girls' pictures, the two boys spent the rest of the night playing in a blanket fort they made. Rex even joined them for a little while but left when he started to get heavy eyes. He had a big day! He, Asriel, and MK all did! And playing in a blanket fort together was quite possibly the most enjoyable way to end such a wonderful night of hijinks. Everything was perfect… except for one thing. No plate of s'mores to snack on. Not to worry though, they can always go downstairs and make some, which is exactly what MK did after playing with Asriel and Rex in their blanket fort for about 20 minutes.

Later that night… when MK went down to make s'mores…

Rocco: Oh hey, champ. Did you come down to make some s'mores? *asked Rocco curiously with a smile, just seconds after he and Lydia set some graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows on the kitchen counter*

MK: Oh! Hehe. Well, look at you, Dad! If I had known you were going to make s'mores for us, I would've stayed upstairs!

Rocco: Haha! Now just what makes you think I'm making these for you? *joked Rocco*

MK: W-well, because, you know…

Rocco: Hahahaha! I'd be happy to, champ! And while you're here, you can help me roast the marshmallows.

MK: Hehe. Sure, Dad. *said MK, agreeing to help his father but was rendered confused when he stood still and did absolutely nothing*

Rocco: ……...

MK: ...Uh, Dad?

Rocco: Hmm? What is it, MK?

MK: Y-you're supposed to create green fire in the palm of one of your hands.

Rocco: Hmm… yes, I suppose I could do that. Or, we could roast them with your fire magic… *said Rocco after noticing that Asriel didn't follow MK downstairs*

MK: What? Really? W-w-w-what if Az comes down downstairs? *MK stammered, worried that Asriel might see his fire magic in action* You know I don't want him to see this until Saturday!

Lydia: Heeheeheehee. Not to worry, honey puff. I'll be your lookout. *said Lydia with a blissful smile, seconds before keeping an eye on the staircase*

MK: *gasp* Oh my gosh! Thank you, Mom! Thank you

Lydia: Heeheeheehee! Any time, my dear.

After Lydia moved into position, MK did his thing. But instead of just lighting fire in the palm of one of his robotic hands, he also did something that his father and Alphys are incapable of. That being, LIGHTING HIS ENTIRE TAIL ON FIRE!!! Every inch from its base all the way to its tip! :O And as for its color, it was orange.

Rocco: Hahahahaha! Yeah! That's my boy! Tail fire is best fire! *said Rocco, proud of MK and a little jealous since he can't light his own tail on fire*

MK: Hahahaha! You got that right, Dad! Hahahaha! (Hehehe. Can't wait to show this to you, Frisk, and Chara this Saturday, Az… along with a few… other surprises. Hehehehe.)

THE END.

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #tickle story #mettaton #mettaton ex #lizard dad #lizard mom #feet tickling #upperbody tickling

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sapphire374 · 3 years

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Soy Sol: Chapter 15 (Close to Fingertips)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

The competition is only a week away and the gang are intensely practicing for the upcoming finale. Luckily, Emilia had arrived just in time from her flight from Cancun. She has been playing a big help in advancing the team’s skill of skating. Matteo had been giving Luna her time away, but they haven’t stopped stealing glances from each other. Matteo wishes it was as easy as just going up to her and making things back to normal. He still feels hope that they will get back together since she hasn’t ever taken off her strawberry and moon necklace that Matteo had gifted Luna a long time ago.

Everything seems to be going according to plan. Simón, Nico, and Yam have finalized the way they’ll perform with the new song. When everyone takes a break, Luna rollers to Nina. “You all were amazing out there,” Nina compliments Luna.

“Thanks! Yeah, the choreography is coming out very nicely,” Luna responds. “Yep, I also saw some wondering eyes between two love birds.” Luna gives Nina ‘that’ look of annoyance. “What? I’m not saying anyone in particular, it’s just I can totally tell that you guys still have feelings for each other.”

Emilia and Ámbar head over beside Luna. “Wow can’t believe all that happened and you two are now sisters,” Emilia chuckles. “Yep, we’ve had crazy lives, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love having this dork around,” Ámbar jokingly hits Luna in the shoulder. “So how has life been for you, oh and is Benicio still your boyfriend?” Luna asks. “Was. He was my boyfriend. I broke up with him when I couldn’t tolerate him anymore. I decided to take time for myself to discover more who I am and what I really like. Eventually, in my period of being alone I found a girlfriend. I realized that I only like girls. Her name is Patty. She’s a darling.” Ámbar and Luna stare at each other with excitement. “Wow Emilia, that’s exciting, also I bet my whole wallet Patty is way, like way better than Benicio. No one can put up with that man,” Luna mentions. “Oh, you’re absolutely right hahaha. I feel much freer and happier getting to also spend some time with my family while I attend my last year of university and skate in my free time,” Emilia tells the gang.

“Emilia I just want to say thank you so much for coming to the rescue for us. This place means the most to us all and you being a part of saving it with us truly means a lot,” Ámbar acknowledged. “Of course. Anything for my cute soon - to - be - wife friend and my freaky moon girl,” Emilia joked.

Rodeo Bay Studios

As Matteo walks out of the office, he sees a familiar face walk by. He could’ve sworn he’s seen this girl from one of Jazmín’s videos online. “Bia? Aren’t you that girl who makes those videos for the Fundom,” Matteo asks. The girl with long brunette hair stops in her tracks. “Yes, I am, and I don’t think we’ve met,” Bia takes out her hand towards Matteo. “Oh yes sorry I’m Matteo. I’ve seen all of your videos. My friends Jazmín and Delfi work with you guys and the Fundom so that’s how I know and seen you guys’ videos. They’re all awesome,” Matteo marvels.

“Aw that’s sweet! I really appreciate the nice comments and my friends will too especially them knowing it’s coming from the one and only Matteo Balsano. We loved your Alla Voy album,” Bia compliments. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

Bia sees Matteo’s grin slowly turn to a frown when he sees a vase of sunflowers on the table. “What’s the matter?”

“Sorry it’s just sunflowers are Luna’s favorite flowers since they’re yellow which is also her favorite color. I feel like wherever I go, I can’t stop thinking about her. Everything reminds me of her,” Matteo confesses. “Ah I see, is that your crush,” Bia questions.

“She’s more than that for me. We’ve had a long history and past. We recently broke up and she forgave me but doesn’t feel ready for a relationship. I’ve been giving her some time but some part of me feels like she’ll never want to get back together with me,” Matteo explains. “You should tell this to her. Be open about what’s been going on and how you feel about her. Tell her you don’t want to wait anymore. It’s important to have communication on both sides. You’ll never know how she feels unless you tell her first. She would appreciate the effort. Sometimes the little things are what count the most,” Bia advised.

“Thank you, you’re right I should tell her how I feel. It’s the only way things will be clear. Sorry to bombard you by the way, with my problems,” Matteo apologizes. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Getting to talk here with you helped getting my mind off of everything going on with the Moondust contracts,” Bia giggles. Matteo waves bye to Bia and heads out of the place.

Luna enters the cafeteria with Nina and Gastón carrying their luggage. “Luggage, what’s that for?” Luna chuckles. “Luna, you haven’t heard, the competition will be held in Italy,” Nina explained. “What? I didn’t know? No one told me this information,” Luna begins to frantically check her phone. “It’s okay Luna you still have a few hours to pack your bags, Gastón and I always plan ahead and prepare early. Don’t worry I’ll help you.” Luna and Nina dash out of the Jam and Roller and head to the Benson/Valente Mansion.

Matteo enters the Jam and Roller with his luggage in his hands and heads straight to Gastón. “Wow amigo I’m shocked you packed early. Ayyy we’re now even bag buddies!” Gastón and Matteo chuckle while giving each other a side hug. “So, have you seen Luna anywhere? I have something important to tell her.”

“No, she just left with Nina. They’re planning to pack her bags since she didn’t know Italy was the competition’s location,” Gastón elaborates. “I’m happy that I get to see my family again. I miss them a lot but I’m worried there’s a chance Luna may not see my family since she’s still upset at me. I’m planning to tell her the truth and confess my feelings for her. That’s the only way I’ll be able to lift the weight off my shoulders,” Matteo whispers.

“I think it’s a great idea, but I don’t think you should tell her now. She’s already very tense with the competition and is even forgetting stuff too,” Gastón advised. “Oh, you know how Lunita is, always clumsy and forgetful! Now guys here is the Jam and Roller before we leave. Everyone is extremely nervous and stressed about the competition coming up, isn’t it all so exciting!” Jazmin exclaims while filming all around.

Delfi walks to where Jazmín is. “Jazmin shouldn’t you be packing your bags too,” she remarked. “Oh yes that’s right!” Jazmín shoves Delfi the tablet while it’s still filming. Delfi faces it to her and says, “I guess ‘Lunita’ is not the only one forgetting things today.”

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dornish-queen · 4 years

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Pedro Pascal on Fame and ‘The Mandalorian’: ‘Can We Cut the S— and Talk About the Child?’

By Adam B. Vary

Photographs by Beau Grealy

When Pedro Pascal was roughly 4 years old, he and his family went to see the 1978 hit movie “Superman,” starring Christopher Reeve. Pascal’s young parents had come to live in San Antonio after fleeing their native Chile during the rise of dictator Augusto Pinochet in the mid-1970s. Taking Pascal and his older sister to the movies — sometimes more than once a week — had become a kind of family ritual, a way to soak up as much American pop culture as possible.

At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Instead, Pascal wandered into a different theater (he thinks it was showing the 1979 domestic drama “Kramer vs. Kramer,” but, again, he was 4). In his shock and bewilderment at being lost, he curled up into an open seat and fell asleep. When he woke up, the movie was over, the theater was empty, and his parents were standing over him. To his surprise, they seemed rather calm, but another detail sticks out even more.

“I know that they finished their movie,” he says, bending over in laughter. “My sister was trying to get a rise out of me by telling me, ‘This happened and that happened and then Superman did this and then, you know, the earthquake and spinning around the planet.'” In the face of such relentless sibling mockery, Pascal did the only logical thing: “I said, ‘All that happened in my movie too.'”

He had no way of knowing it at the time, of course, but some 40 years later, Pascal would in fact get the chance to star in a movie alongside a DC Comics superhero — not to mention battle Stormtroopers and, er, face off against the most formidable warrior in Westeros. After his breakout on “Game of Thrones,” he became an instant get-me-that-guy sensation, mostly as headstrong, taciturn men of action — from chasing drug traffickers in Colombia for three seasons on Netflix’s “Narcos” to squaring off against Denzel Washington in “The Equalizer 2.”

This year, though, Pascal finds himself poised for the kind of marquee career he’s spent a lifetime dreaming about. On Oct. 30, he’ll return for Season 2 as the title star of “The Mandalorian,” Lucasfilm’s light-speed hit “Star Wars” series for Disney Plus that earned 15 Emmy nominations, including best drama, in its first season. And then on Dec. 25 — COVID-19 depending — he’ll play the slippery comic book villain Maxwell Lord opposite Gal Gadot, Chris Pine and Kristen Wiig in “Wonder Woman 1984.”

The roles are at once wildly divergent and the best showcase yet for Pascal’s elastic talents. In “The Mandalorian,” he must hide his face — and, in some episodes, his whole body — in a performance that pushes minimalism and restraint to an almost ascetic ideal. In “Wonder Woman 1984,” by stark contrast, he is delivering the kind of big, broad bad-guy character that populated the 1980s popcorn spectaculars of his youth.

“I continually am so surprised when everybody pegs him as such a serious guy,” says “Wonder Woman 1984” director Patty Jenkins. “I have to say, Pedro is one of the most appealing people I have known. He instantly becomes someone that everybody invites over and you want to have around and you want to talk to.”

Talk with Pascal for just five minutes — even when he’s stuck in his car because he ran out of time running errands before his flight to make it to the set of a Nicolas Cage movie in Budapest — and you get an immediate sense of what Jenkins is talking about. Before our interview really starts, Pascal points out, via Zoom, that my dog is licking his nether regions in the background. “Don’t stop him!” he says with an almost naughty reproach. “Let him live his life!”

Over our three such conversations, it’s also clear that Pascal’s great good humor and charm have been at once ballast for a number of striking hardships, and a bulwark that makes his hard-won success a challenge for him to fully accept.

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“He feels very much like a classic movie star in his charm and his delivery,” says Favreau. “And he’s somebody who takes his craft very seriously.” Favreau felt Pascal had the presence and skill essential to deliver a character — named Din Djarin, but mostly called Mando — who spends virtually every second of his time on screen wearing a helmet, part of the sacrosanct creed of the Mandalorian order.

Convincing any actor to hide their face for the run of a series can be as precarious as escaping a Sarlacc pit. To win Pascal over in their initial meeting, Favreau brought him behind the “Mandalorian” curtain, into a conference room papered with storyboards covering the arc of the first season. “When he walked in, it must have felt a little surreal,” Favreau says. “You know, most of your experiences as an actor, people are kicking the tires to see if it’s a good fit. But in this case, everything was locked and loaded.”

Needless to say, it worked. “I hope this doesn’t sound like me fashioning myself like I’m, you know, so smart, but I agreed to do this [show] because the impression I had when I had my first meeting was that this is the next big s—,” Pascal says with a laugh.

Favreau’s determination to cast Pascal, however, put the actor in a tricky situation: Pascal’s own commitments to make “Wonder Woman 1984” in London and to perform in a Broadway run of “King Lear” with Glenda Jackson barreled right into the production schedule for “The Mandalorian.” Some scenes on the show, and in at least one case a full episode, would need to lean on the anonymity of the title character more than anyone had quite planned, with two stunt performers — Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder — playing Mando on set and Pascal dubbing in the dialogue months later.

Pascal was already being asked to smother one of his best tools as an actor, extraordinarily uncommon for anyone shouldering the newest iteration of a global live-action franchise. (Imagine Robert Downey Jr. only playing Iron Man while wearing a mask — you can’t!) Now he had to hand over control of Mando’s body to other performers too. Some actors would have walked away. Pascal didn’t.

“If there were more than just a couple of pages of a one-on-one scene, I did feel uneasy about not, in some instances, being able to totally author that,” he says. “But it was so easy in such a sort of practical and unexciting way for it to be up to them. When you’re dealing with a franchise as large as this, you are such a passenger to however they’re going to carve it out. It’s just so specific. It’s ‘Star Wars.'” (For Season 2, Pascal says he was on the set far more, though he still sat out many of Mando’s stunts.)

“The Mandalorian” was indeed the next big s—, helping to catapult the launch of Disney Plus to 26.5 million subscribers in its first six weeks. With the “Star Wars” movies frozen in carbonite until 2023 (at least), I noted offhand that he’s now effectively the face of one of the biggest pop-culture franchises in the world. Pascal could barely suppress rolling his eyes.

“I mean, come on, there isn’t a face!” he says with a laugh that feels maybe a little forced. “If you want to say, ‘You’re the silhouette’ — which is also a team effort — then, yeah.” He pauses. “Can we just cut the s— and talk about the Child?”

Yes, of course, the Child — or, as the rest of the galaxy calls it, Baby Yoda. Pascal first saw the incandescently cute creature during his download of “Mandalorian” storyboards in that initial meeting with Favreau. “Literally, my eyes following left to right, up and down, and, boom, Baby Yoda close to the end of the first episode,” he says. “That was when I was like, ‘Oh, yep, that’s a winner!'”

Baby Yoda is undeniably the breakout star of “The Mandalorian,” inspiring infinite memes and apocryphal basketball game sightings. But the show wouldn’t work if audiences weren’t invested in Mando’s evolving emotional connection to the wee scene stealer, something Favreau says Pascal understood from the jump. “He’s tracking the arc of that relationship,” says the showrunner. “His insight has made us rethink moments over the course of the show.” (As with all things “Star Wars,” questions about specifics are deflected in deference to the all-powerful Galactic Order of Spoilers.)

Even if Pascal couldn’t always be inside Mando’s body, he never left the character’s head, always aware of how this orphaned bounty hunter who caroms from planet to planet would look askance at anything that felt too good (or too adorable) to be true.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

When Pascal was 4 months old, his parents had to leave him and his sister with their aunt, so they could go into hiding to avoid capture during Pinochet’s crackdown against his opposition. After six months, they finally managed to climb the walls of the Venezuelan embassy during a shift change and claim asylum; from there, the family relocated, first to Denmark, then to San Antonio, where Pascal’s father got a job as a physician.

Pascal was too young to remember any of this, and for a healthy stretch of his childhood, his complicated Chilean heritage sat in parallel to his life in the U.S. — separate tracks, equally important, never quite intersecting. By the time Pascal was 8, his family was able to take regular trips back to Chile to visit with his 34 first cousins. But he doesn’t remember really talking about any of his time there all that much with his American friends.

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

Besides, he loved his life in San Antonio. His father took him and his sister to Spurs basketball games during the week if their homework was done. He hoodwinked his mother into letting him see “Poltergeist” at the local multiplex. He watched just about anything on cable; the HBO special of Whoopi Goldberg’s one-woman Broadway show knocked him flat. He remembers seeing Henry Thomas in “E.T.” and Christian Bale in “Empire of the Sun” and wishing ardently, urgently, I want to live those stories too.

Then his father got a job in Orange County, Calif. After Pascal finished the fifth grade, they moved there. It was a shock. “There were two really, really rough years,” he says. “A lot of bullying.”

His mother found him a nascent performing arts high school in the area, and Pascal burrowed even further into his obsessions, devouring any play or movie he could get his hands on. His senior year, a friend of his mother’s gave Pascal her ticket to a long two-part play running in downtown Los Angeles that her bad back couldn’t withstand. He got out of school early to drive there by himself. It was the pre-Broadway run of “Angels in America.”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

After studying acting at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, Pascal booked a succession of solid gigs, like MTV’s “Undressed” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” But the sudden death of his mother — who’d only just been permitted to move back to Chile a few years earlier — took the wind right from Pascal’s sails. He lost his agent, and his career stalled almost completely.

As a tribute to her, he decided to change his professional last name from Balmaceda, his father’s, to Pascal, his mother’s. “And also, because Americans had such a hard time pronouncing Balmaceda,” he says. “It was exhausting.”

Pascal even tried swapping out Pedro for Alexander (an homage to Ingmar Bergman’s “Fanny and Alexander,” one of the formative films of his youth). “I was willing to do absolutely anything to work more,” he says. “And that meant if people felt confused by who they were looking at in the casting room because his first name was Pedro, then I’ll change that. It didn’t work.”

It was a desperately lean time for Pascal. He booked an occasional “Law & Order” episode, but mostly he was pounding the pavement along with his other New York theater friends — like Oscar Isaac, who met Pascal doing an Off Broadway play. They became fast, lifelong friends, bonding over their shared passions and frustrations as actors.

“It’s gotten better, but at that point, it was so easy to be pigeonholed in very specific roles because we’re Latinos,” says Isaac. “It’s like, how many gang member roles am I going to be sent?” As with so many actors, the dream Pascal and Isaac shared to live the stories of their childhoods had been stripped down to its most basic utility. “The dream was to be able to pay rent,” says Isaac. “There wasn’t a strategy. We were just struggling. It was talking about how to do this thing that we both love but seems kind of insurmountable.”

As with so few actors, that dream was finally rekindled through sheer nerve and the luck of who you know, when another lifelong friend, actor Sarah Paulson, agreed to pass along Pascal’s audition for Oberyn Martell to her best friend Amanda Peet, who is married to “Game of Thrones” co-showrunner David Benioff.

“First of all, it was an iPhone selfie audition, which was unusual,” Benioff remembers over email. “And this wasn’t one of the new-fangled iPhones with the fancy cameras. It looked like s—; it was shot vertical; the whole thing was very amateurish. Except for the performance, which was intense and believable and just right.”

Before Pascal knew it, he found himself in Belfast, sitting inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep as one of the judges at Tyrion Lannister’s trial for the murder of King Joffrey. “I was between Charles Dance and Lena Headey, with a view of the entire f—ing set,” Pascal says, his eyes wide and astonished still at the memory. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t have an uncomfortable costume on. You know, I got to sit — and with this view.” He sighs. “It strangely aligned itself with the kind of thinking I was developing as a child that, at that point, I was convinced was not happening.”

And then it all started to happen.

In early 2018, while Pascal was in Hawaii preparing to make the Netflix thriller “Triple Frontier” — opposite his old friend Isaac — he got a call from the film’s producer Charles Roven, who told him Patty Jenkins wanted to meet with him in London to discuss a role in another film Roven was producing, “Wonder Woman 1984.”

“It was a f—ing offer,” Pascal says in an incredulous whisper. “I wasn’t really grasping that Patty wanted to talk to me about a part that I was going to play, not a part that I needed to get. I wasn’t able to totally accept that.”

Pascal had actually shot a TV pilot with Jenkins that wasn’t picked up, made right before his life-changing run on “Game of Thrones” aired. “I got to work with Patty for three days or something and then thought I’d never see her again,” he says. “I didn’t even know she remembered me from that.”

She did. “I worked with him, so I knew him,” she says. “I didn’t need him to prove anything for me. I just loved the idea of him, and I thought he would be kind of unexpected, because he doesn’t scream ‘villain.'”

In Jenkins’ vision, Max Lord — a longstanding DC Comics rogue who shares a particularly tangled history with Wonder Woman — is a slick, self-styled tycoon with a knack for manipulation and an undercurrent of genuine pathos. It was the kind of larger-than-life character Pascal had never been asked to tackle before, so he did something equally unorthodox: He transformed his script into a kind of pop-art scrapbook, filled with blown-up photocopies of Max Lord from the comic books that Pascal then manipulated through his lens on the character.

Even the few pages Pascal flashes to me over Zoom are quite revealing. One, featuring Max sporting a power suit and a smarmy grin, has several burned-out holes, including through the character’s eye. Another page features Max surrounded by text bubbles into which Pascal has written, over and over and over again in itty-bitty lettering, “You are a f—ing piece of s—.”

“I felt like I had wake myself up again in a big way,” he says. “This was just a practical way of, like, instead of going home tired and putting Netflix on, [I would] actually deal with this physical thing, doodle and think about it and run it.”

Jenkins is so bullish on Pascal’s performance that she thinks it could explode his career in the same way her 2003 film “Monster” forever changed how the industry saw Charlize Theron. “I would never cast him as just the stoic, quiet guy,” Jenkins says. “I almost think he’s unrecognizable from ‘Narcos’ to ‘Wonder Woman.’ Wouldn’t even know that was the same guy. But I think that may change.”

When people can see “Wonder Woman 1984” remains caught in the chaos the pandemic has wreaked on the industry; both Pascal and Jenkins are hopeful the Dec. 25 release date will stick, but neither is terribly sure it will. Perhaps it’s because of that uncertainty, perhaps it’s because he’s spent his life on the outside of a dream he’s now suddenly living, but Pascal does not share Jenkins’ optimism that his experience making “Wonder Woman 1984” will open doors to more opportunities like it.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #variety magazine

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