Cepsofcordy - Just An Idiot Trying To Make Her Way In The Galaxy

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Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

-

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

Failure

Din Djarin x Reader

Gif credit: @saltybatman

A/N: I couldn’t get this thought out of my head so I just had to write it. I’m still grieving btw

—————-

“Stay here with him, I’ll protect you both. Head to the ship once he’s done” you blankly stare at his visor a death grip on his gloved hand, your breath heaving.

You think you’ve gone into shock. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did they know where the child was? This was not-

“Y/N are you listening to me?” his stern voice cuts through your racing thoughts. He grips your shoulders. “I need you and the child safe. Promise me when he’s done you return to the ship immediately.” you nod rapidly finally breaking from your trance.

He nodded in approval and takes his blaster out of his holster, “Be careful, Cyar'ika” your hands start to tremble. You weren’t scared for yourself. You were scared for your lover. You were scared for the child that you considered a son. You have to be strong. For both of them.

“Din” he stares at you for a moment. “Come back in one piece please” you begged.

He tilts his helmet as saying “I will”, and takes off down to the stormtroopers. You watch him run, nerves settling at the pit of your stomach. You turned around to face the child, his face still scrunched in concentration. The force field still rising towards the sky in full force. He needs to snap out of it, but till then you had to protect him. 

You took your blaster out of your own holster and gripped it tightly in your hand. Beats of sweat dripped down your forehead, as your eyes dart around the surroundings no stormtroopers insight. For now. Your hand flexes around the gun, as you walk from left to right and around. It felt like hours. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before a sound catches your attention. You look up to the sky, your eyes squinting adjusting to the light. You couldn’t tell what it was-oh no. No.

“Shit” you hissed at the sight of what you assume are troopers. You turn to the child, still sitting on the magic rock.

“Kid, we gotta go!” you rush over to him, he doesn’t move from his place.

“Grogu! Come on! They’re coming! Snap out of it!” your words don’t affect him. 

You huffed and look back at the sky, they’re getting closer. You look back at the force field, “Fuck-here goes nothing” you stretch your arms and inch closer to the child. 

You feel yourself being pushed, pushing at your frame. And maker does it hurt. You grunt as you attempt to inch closer to the child. Your fingers bend at the pressure, but it doesn’t stop you. You inch closer and closer-you feel like you can practically feel his robe, then you felt nothing. You hear yourself let out a scream, your body being thrown mid-air. 

You were launched much further than Din was. You felt your body land on rock, a loud almost crunch ringed in the air as you felt your head come in contact with the hard surface. Your body rolls down the hill, tumbling through the rocks the small amount of grass. Stoping at the bottom, you let yourself lay there. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t feel anything. Not the cut on your temple, that’s slowly dripping. Not pain on the side you landed on. Nothing. But you did feel something. You felt sorrow. Greif. Failure. It hurt more than physical pain. You knew by the time you finished tumbling down the hill the child was gone. If you had just stood there and fought off the troopers then maybe you could’ve made it back to the crest with the child in your arms. It was your fault. No one else could tell you otherwise. You felt yourself become dizzy. Your eyes fluttering open and close, fighting to stay open. You soon let yourself give in. No longer wanting to feel.

Din races up the hill, his heart practically beating out his chest. He tried to convince himself that he could make it. Make it to the both of you. But he knew it was too late. By the time reached the temple, the troopers had already taken off. He watches in anguish seeing his son be taken. But wait-they just have him. He whips his head around, his eyes darting around the temple. He runs to the edge, frantically looking around.

“What is it?” Fennec questions the sudden actions.

“They’re gone” he seethes out but worried.

“Who-”

“Y/N!” he growls. They took the child. His child. And they possibly killed you. All because he wasn’t fast enough. No. They’re not dead. They can’t be. He can’t lose them too. He tries to convince himself to think of the best scenario. He walks around the edge, hoping to see them walk out behind a rock or at least…their body.

“Maybe they went back to the ship” Fennec tries to the calm the distraught Mandalorian.

Yeah maybe. He did tell them to go back. He sighs and starts rushing over to where the crest was parked. He runs, the crest slowly coming into view.

Before he could take another step, a loud boom rings in the air. He looks up to see a blast shoot through the clouds and before he could process it the blast had already made it to the crest.

“NO!” he hears himself yell out. He rushes to the edge, his heart dropping at the sight. 

His beloved home now erupted into flames, parts being thrown left to right. You were in there. You were in the crest when-his knees buckle beneath him. He kneels to the grown roughly, his chest constricted. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His mind swirls with thoughts. He lost his home. He lost his child. He lost you. He’s lost everything he’s ever cared about.

A tear escapes his left eye, as his bottom lip trembles. He didn’t know he was crying till he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shakes himself from the shock, he roughly pushes the hand off him. “Don’t touch me” he seethes out. He pulls himself back to his feet and turns to Fennec and now Boba.

“They might’ve not been in there-”

“They were”

“Mando-”

“NO! They were in there-where else would they be?!” he yells, his voice cracking at the end. He turns back around and huffs attempting to collect himself. He takes several deep breaths, as he stares at the now-demolished crest. Caught up in his grief he didn’t hear the sound of stumbling footsteps coming down the hill.

“Mando?” he swears it’s only his mind playing games. That you are not calling out to him. He refuses to turn around.

“Mando” his stomach drops at how clear your voice is. He finally turns around in direction of the voice.

There you stood. Like an angel that just dropped down from the sky, even in your state. Your clothes were covered in grass and dirt, cuts lingering your thighs and arms blood seeping through the fabric. A semi-large cut lingered your temple, dry blood surrounding it. Your eyes held a daze but beat red.

“Cyar'ika ” he gasped out, rushing over to you. He pulls you into him, his hands grasping your body as if making sure you weren’t going to just disappear in his arms. He pulls away and cups your face,

“Cyar’ika I-I thought you were dead-”

“Din-” you spoke hushedly when speaking his name.

“I thought I had lost you too-”

“Din, I’m fine” You barely held a smile, tears gathered in your eyes. The dam broke, a sob escapes your lips,

“I failed” you sobbed out.

“I failed and they took him-” He shakes his head, “No-no Cyar'ika, I failed not you-” “No! It was me! I was supposed to protect him and-and make sure he’s with me and take him back to the crest-” “And in a way, I’m glad you didn’t” you shake your head confused.

“W-what do you mean?” you hear him sigh softly, as he attempts find his words.

“It’s gone”

You continue to shake your head “I-I don’t-” “They destroyed the crest” you gaped at him, not fully comprehending what he said.

He takes your head and pulls you to the edge. You stare mouth agape at the sight of the ruins. You snatch your hand away from his grip and turned around. Din’s helmet snaps to your figure in surprise.

“Cyar'ika where are you going-” you ignored his question and proceeded to make your way off the rock.

Your feet carried you to the ruins, somehow tears drying up. You slowly approach the wreckage, your eyes darting around searching for remains. You hear the familiar clink of Din’s boots behind you, slowly approaching you. You walk around aimlessly but stop when something catches your attention. Kneeling, you dig your hand into the dirt grasping a small sphere. You held the ball in your hands, as you stare blankly at it. You feel a gloved hand on your shoulder, then feel him kneel beside you.

“Cyar'ika ” you didn’t lookup.

“Y/N, look at me” your eyes snap back up to him. Your eyes void of emotion, but a fire is lit in them.

“I’m going to kill him” Din is taken aback at your tone. He’s never heard you speak like this. So full of anger. He knew immediately who you spoke of.

“He destroyed our home. He took our child I-” you shake your head and glance down at the ball then you look back at Din.

“He’s going to pay"

——–

Tags:

@66wookies @kiss-evans @kiwi-the-first @theoutsidelandhere @generation-zero @dindja @phoenixhalliwell @godohammers @apples-of-february @chicken-nugget-puta @chicken-ona-stick @dindjarinscape @strangelittlenobody @seasonschange-butpeopledont @din-damn-djarin @wille-zarr @lovelyasfcuk

Dad and The Dog

Summary: This. This is the plot. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Content: Absolute fluff. Dad Energy™️ Soft Din. 

“If it pisses on my floor once, it’s gone.”

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If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

Why tagging female reader fics is so important

I’m starting to get really fed up with the lack of tagging in this fandom, so here’s a quick explanation as to why it’s so important to tag your female reader fics as female reader.

1- This should be common knowledge, but apparently not: not every person who reads fanfic is female.

It’s become standard to assume readers are female. And honestly, it’s just flat out disrespectful. It shows us non-female readers that you don’t care enough about our comfort in the fandom to do something as simple as put “character x F!reader” instead of “Character x reader”. It's incredibly othering and disrespectful towards those of us who are not female.

2- “Reader” can easily be assumed to be gender neutral.

It very rarely is, but there’s no way of knowing whether something is going to be gender neutral or not if you don’t tag it. It’s INCREDIBLY frustrating to start a fic and find out a few paragraphs in (or worse, halfway through), that it’s female reader. Not only is it frustrating, it can be triggering to some people: it can trigger gender dysphoria in trans people, bring up trauma from cis male readers that may have experience abuse related to their sexual orientation, and many, many more people.

3- It’s harmful to trans people.

Many AFAB trans people (trans men and AFAB non-binary people) experience gender dysphoria. It’s seen as incredibly dehumanising to misgender a trans person, and that’s essentially what you’re doing by assuming that all readers are female. At best, misgendering a trans person reminds them they don’t fit the cishet expectation society has of them. At worse, it triggers extreme feelings of gender dysphoria, memories of past (and current) abuse, and reminds us that representation is a luxury we rarely experience. It’s not just the pronouns either; sometimes I’ll read a fic and it’ll describe body parts that trigger my gender dysphoria (breasts, hips, reproductive parts, etc.). As a cis person reading this, it might not seem like a big deal. But trust me: it’s a huge deal. Being misgendered takes a HUGE toll on a trans person’s mental health. We spent a huge part of our lives being misgendered, pretending to be someone we’re not, and to read a self-insert fic and have the reader be gendered as female reminds us of the time when our lives were at the lowest. Trans people who don’t pass as their gender identity, who are non-binary, or who cannot transition, are misgendered all day, every day, and for many of us, fandom is the only escape… until we’re trying to read a fic and are misgendered there too.

It’s not as simple as “it’s not for us”. For me, it’s sometimes an inconvenience. Other days, it triggers my dysphoria so bad I totally shut down and can’t function for hours on end. And my gender dysphoria is much less intense than many trans people’s.

4- It’s not difficult.

It’s just not. It’s as simple as putting “f!reader” at the top of your fic. If you want to be extra awesome, you can put it in the tags too. Not doing it shows that you’re too lazy to respect people who aren’t comfortable reading female reader fics.

5- It’s a waste of our time.

You’re not getting any extra notes by doing this. You’re just not. If anything, you’re losing prospective readers. As a non-binary person, I occasionally read f!reader fics. But if I can’t mentally prepare for it in advance, I’m not going to be able to finish reading. Those of us who can’t read any female reader fics won’t be very likely to read any of your other fics, even if those are actually gender neutral. So we have to get partway through reading a fic that isn’t for us when we could have just scrolled past it. You’re proving to non-female readers that your blog isn’t a safe space for us, and it’s very unlikely you’ll get a second chance from that reader.

Please know: I’m not trying to personally attack anyone. If you didn’t know it was harmful, that’s okay, just start tagging your fics. It’s not difficult, and it means the world to non-female readers. I'm trying to be as polite and patient as I can with this, but I'm getting to the point where I'm done asking nicely. It's pushing a lot of people out of the fandom, and honestly I'm tempted to leave tumblr myself because of it.

You don't have to write for male or gender neutral readers, but telling people the reader is intended to be female is not optional.