Everyone should know the international sign for Help Me. Let’s make this famous!!
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.
-
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I can't help but notice that the number of you has increased exponentially in recent times and that more and more content creators are pulling away from the fandom as a result of the influx of ridiculousness that has accompanied your arrival.
I have compelled to ask, will you finally be happy when you've worn all the content creators down with your bs vague ass 'call-out' posts that you can't back up with facts coz the posts are just about you projecting your shit onto others, or just shite talking in order to garner attention for yourself? Or will you be angry when there's no-one left to complain about?
Someday the fandom will just consist of you and your moots tearing eachother down coz you believe you deserve more recognition than the next person coz you believe you shouted the loudest in order to protect a 46 year old man who doesn't know you exist. Oh and don't worry, this WILL happen because its like Groundhog Day in here.
FYI, there's no way to get noticed by Pedro here. Anything you do is in your own name and not his. He has never been one to shy away from standing up for himself and fighting back on twitter so please stop complaining about content on here that does not meet YOUR standards. If you have an issue with someones blog/content/opinions/fic then block them, block the tag, just fucking jog on like any reasonable adult in the real world. If someone is bullying others then maybe have a word but apart from that stay in your lane and you'll have a happier life for it.
If you are a total arsehole and can't contain yourself (it would be helpful if you could look at yourself objectively in this matter) then maybe consider checking out my Pinterest which just has pictures and links. There you can live out your utopian fantasy without feeling attacked by the existence of real people who have opinions that differ to yours.
Please, do enjoy what's left in the fandom after you've bullied everyone out or just made them embarrassed enough by being associated with you that they've gone on hiatus!
This ones for you💋
Read on AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: After a botched raid, you and Javi both need a cigarette. Sitting together on the sidewalk outside the embassy, you find out you both need each other too.
Pairings: Javier Peña x DEA Agent!Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers | Word Count: 3k
Warnings: canon-typical violence, ptsd, smoking
A/N: Somebody called for “local gruff DEA agent is secretly a softie with the girl he loves” with a side of angsty love confession? This one’s for you! ♡
“Javi. Cigarette.”
He cast you a sidelong glance as you sat next to him on the edge of the sidewalk, his gaze lingering only a moment before he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a pack of smokes. He handed you one, flicked his lighter on for you, and frowned at you.
“What?” you said around a drag. The nicotine immediately flooded your system, quieting some of the shaking in your hands that you were trying very hard to hide.
He shook his head. “Since when do you smoke?”
You held the cigarette between two fingers and pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, warding off a headache.
“You’ve only known me for a few months, Javi,” you said. You’d started at the embassy a little over six months ago, put on Javi and Steve’s intelligence team by Ambassador Noonan. Though you stayed in the office at the embassy most of the time, you’d gotten to know both men very well. Perhaps too well, in Javi’s case.
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asians: pls care about racism against us
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the israeli government is threatening further annexation of palestinian land. here’s how you can help.
Petition links-
calling on the us state department + department of defense to demand an end to israel’s forced displacement of palestinians from jerusalem
tell your state rep. to support the palestinian children and families act (h.r. 2590)
stop israel’s forced displacement of palestinians from east jerusalem
write canadian parliament to protect palestinian families in east jerusalem
Donation links-
unrwa, donations funded towards injured and displaced palestinian families
palestine children relief fund
further information-
free palestine carrd
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: cursing, friends with benefits, reunited best friends, general fluffiness, allusions to sex
Rating: M
Summary: Frankie and you have reunited after losing touch for years. Fresh off of his divorce you propose a friends with benefits situation which he accepts. The problem is you’re still very much in love with him, but you want him to enjoy his single life after being married for so long.
A/N: In which a person who doesn’t know how to write gets stuck with the thought of dancing with Frankie in the kitchen and writes it. 😅 I saw a tik tok of a couple dancing to Cry to Me by Solomon Burke this morning and this happened. It was supposed to be 500 words, but here we are at over 1,000+. Had no plan for this one, just me churning out nonsense as I went.
AO3
Frankie and you were inseparable growing up having been present for both of your trials of life; his going into the army and you taking the plunge into starting an Etsy business after high school. Your friends defined the two of you as a living definition of bad timing. He had a high school sweetheart that he ended marrying shortly after coming back home from the army. You would have been happy for him if you weren’t so in love with him and it got hard to be around him which is why you had drifted apart.
The next time you saw each other was shortly after his divorce from his wife and you could see how raw it still was for him. You spent the whole night catching up on old memories, delicately skipping over the topic of his ex-wife, and new things going on in your life. That was also the night you had your first kiss, but considering how fresh his divorce was you didn’t want him to jump into another relationship. That’s when you had proposed friends with benefits as a solution. It gave him time to figure things out and you wanted him to be able to enjoy his single life after being married for so long. You didn’t want to be the rebound and you both still got what you wanted out of each other.
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*Avenger's Tower Fanfic*
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Hey girl, what-cha doing down there? Dancing alone while I live right above you; I can hear your music playing; I can feel your body swaying
It didn't take a super soldier to hear the music that came out of your apartment. However, the one above you did understand the lyrics, not like most of the others that lived in the tower. He didn't mind it, sometimes, it became a soothing thing when the nightmares woke him up. The vibrations of the music and lyrics gave him was a micro-confirmation that he was no longer in the Soviet Union. No longer trapped under any ice.
"Okay, but how come you can't go one day without it?" Sam asked about your music during breakfast. You shrugged, "I have my space. It mostly stays in my space. Just like Redwing." Bucky snickered. Sam slightly aggressively turned towards his best friend-enemy man. "You live above her! What are your thoughts?" Bucky was slightly started by the question. "I-I don't mind it." You stuck your tongue out at Sam, putting your dishes in sink, and walked away. "You said you only like forties music." Sam accused as soon as you were out of ear shot. Bucky avoided eye contact before he cleared his throat, "I have to train with Steve."
One floor below me, you don't even know me, I love you
When that and a combination of other things didn't work, keep falling back into night terrors, Bucky would sit in front of his glass windows, curtains pulled back. At first, his eyes would wander the city lights. Eventually, his eyes would shift down below and see your shadow swaying and dancing to the music that was nearly never ending. It was a constant, consistency made reality easier to believe in. You were starting to become that in Bucky's word, even though you never would've known. He never mentioned it.
If you look out your window tonight, pulling the string with the note that's attached to my heart; Read how many times I saw you, how in my silence I adored you.
Sure, Bucky and you met occasionally during missions and Avengers' (aka Tony Stark's) parties. However, neither of you ever got beyond glances, brief introductions, and the incredibly rare argument-- sorry polite conversation-- that Steve, Sam, or Nat would drag the pair of you into. Both of you would roll your eyes at the dragger and their "opponent." Plus, the pair of you would almost always be against whatever Sam was arguing. Bucky appreciated the team effort from you. You were also a bit of a history buff which sometimes led to his ears pricking up to some type of familiarity that he could confidently nod along with or it would help him connect the dots with events that didn't include the Winter Soldier.
It took one of these little rantings of knowledge you had, Steve and Sam saw the captivated look that Bucky distantly gave you. They both also knew it wasn't just the words coming out of your mouth that Bucky was interested in, either. The pair of men shared an look. They knew their mission.
"Alright boys, it's been fun." You said getting up, heading towards your apartment. "Don't have too much fun without me." You waved as you hit the stairs.
The duo of men encircled Bucky. "You have a problem." Same stated as if it was obvious and something much worse than actuality. "Sam-" Steve tried to soften the blow. "No, he is in love with that girl and he hasn't said more than five words to her." Sam insisted. Bucky gave them both a confused stare. "Y/n, Buck, we can tell." Steve cleared up. Bucky's face went to complete denial. "No, I don't."
"Those eyes you gave her earlier tell a different story, Buck." Steve softly argued. Bucky groaned and put his hands in his face. "So what if I do? She's living a happy life...why.....why should I enter it more just to ruin it?" Sam and Steve gave each other soft looks. However, both of them were not going to give up that easily. "You're different now. You've said it yourself, you're not the Winter Soldier anymore." Sam stated. "Even if that's true...who said that she's going to....want me back." Doubt filled Bucky's entire body and mind. The pair of men were not going to change his mind in one night.
Only in my dreams did that wall between us come apart
Another night, Bucky added to looking down at your shadow. He wanted to go down and dance with you. Over seventy years ago, Bucky wouldn't waste another second to do. He would've swept you off your feet, literally. He would hold you close during the slower songs, inhaling your scent. Softly kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips... Bucky heavily sighed out loud, walking away from the window.
Oh my darlin', knock three times on the ceiling if you want me; twice on the pipe if the answer is no.
Sam and Steve showed up at your door. You gave them both a confused. "Come in...stop lurking at my door." You responded, letting them in. "So, how long have you liked Bucky?" Sam got straight to the point. You scoffed and slouched in one of your chairs. "Who said-" "Y/n, you never mentioned your knowledge about your so-called fascination with the 1930s before your first mission with him." Steve confronted you. You shrugged, "A girl can learn new things." Sam rolled his eyes. "They're both impossible, Steve." You sat up a little. "What do you mean by both of us?" For the third time that night, Sam and Steve shared a smirk and an idea.
Oh my sweetness *knock, knock, knock* means you'll meet me in the hallway; twice on the pipe *clang, clang* means you ain't gonna show*
You hummed the song you left playing in your room as you approached Bucky's door. You took a deep breath before knocked with the beat that Bucky could perfectly hear from your apartment below. He hesitantly answered. Then saw you, a small smile etched across his face. "It means that I want you, and that I want to meet you in the hallway-- granted next time it'll be on the ceiling but-" Your breath of words was stopped short by Bucky pulling you into his apartment.
~~ Sam looked at Steve, stifling a laugh, "There isn't really a pipe for her to say no to."
Speak up. Raise awareness. People are dying.
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This post is everything. (via @sukunasfootrest)
summary: Taking a bath with Din leads to a lovely question.
pairings: Din Djarin x Reader, The child
warnings: nudity but no smut, fluffffffff, baby yoda eating a butterfly (!?)
words: 1089
MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES
She is gone. His heart stops beating and he takes a deep horrified breath. Din sits up on their shared cot and lets his gaze wander through the razor crest as if she would appear out of thin air. But she is nowhere to be seen.
Quickly, the mandalorian leaves the bed in full armor. He didn‘t take off his beskar, even though (Y/n) told him many times that this can‘t be comfortable. It can be indeed bothersome sometimes but they were only laying down for a short nap.
Din looks everywhere but (Y/n) isn‘t in the razor crest. She must be somewhere outside, on this strange planet – all alone. The child is looking at the mandalorian with his big eyes and cooes when his father picks him up.
With the help of his helmet, Din can see (Y/n)s foot prints and follows them with quick steps. His mind starts to wander and think about every terrible thing that could have happened to his love. But those thoughts disappear when he runs inside a cave and finds her naked in a well.
The sun shines through the open cave ceiling and illuminates (Y/n)s beauty. She looks like one of those mythical nymphs with her wet hair and peaceful face.
Din sighs relieved and starts to smile. Only when he sets the child down, does (Y/n) notice him. She jumps a little and tilts her head aside. There is no need for her to cover her nudity because the water is murky.
“Did you check it for monsters?“, Din asks as he starts walking towards the spring, followed by his son. His helmet notices no other living forms than (Y/n)s.
“Did you just look at my ass?“, (Y/n) asks almost appalled but grins nevertheless. She loves to tease her mandalorian lover. Slowly, she swims to the edge of the well to greet her son.
“No.“
“You did! I saw it!“
“You can‘t even see my face!“
Both laugh. (Y/n) splashes water at the child who giggles happily. But then the child discovers a butterfly and runs after it.
“Why don‘t you come in and join me?“, (Y/n) asks the mandalorian warrior and follows him with her eyes. Din walks around the well and kneels in front of his love. He places one of his gloved hands on (Y/n)s face and caresses her cheek with his thumb.
“He will be alright“, (Y/n) says as she follows Dins worried gaze towards their son. The mandalorian sighs and walks to the pile of clothes belonging to (Y/n).
While the female watches the child trying to catch the butterfly, Din starts taking off his beskar and clothes. After some time the only thing on his body is his helmet.
The moment the water touches Dins aching body he sighs and closes his eyes. He can‘t remember the last time he felt so calm.
The mandalorian walks to his love and wraps his strong arms around (Y/n)s waist, leaning the forehead of his helmet against her shoulder. (Y/n) wraps her delicate fingers around Dins hand and raises it out of the water, kissing the tattoo between thumb and index finger.
One of her lovely giggles make Din look up an watch his son swallow the last bite of the yellow butterfly. He sighs deeply and lets his free hand wander all over (Y/n)s body, caressing every inch of it.
“We should give you more food so that you don‘t have too eat insects, ad‘ika“, (Y/n) realizes and pets the childs little head when he arrives at the spring. Din smiles at the mandalorian nickname.
The child yawns and loses his balance, almost falling inside the murky water. Luckily, Din has fast reflexes and catches the little one before he can touch the water.
“Nap time“, the mandalorian says with his modulated voice and leaves (Y/n)s side. He places the child on a makeshift bed out of his clothes. His cloak gets draped over the childs small body and only after a few seconds he is asleep.
“At least his eating habits make him fall asleep quickly“, (Y/n) whispers with a sweet smile next to Din and caresses one of the childs ears.
After some time she turns her full attention back to the mandalorian who is leaning against the edge of the well. His arms are wide open on the edge and almost inviting (Y/n) to come closer. The beskar helmet is slightly tilted backwards and reflects the blue sky.
(Y/n) swims to her lover and places both her hands on the mandalorians chest. Droplets of water roll from his neck until they meet the water surface.
“Do you trust me?“, (Y/n) asks after a while and stares at the visor of the beskar helmet which moves from looking at the sky towards her face.
“Of course“, Din responds immediately, not understanding why his love would ask him such a question. He watches (Y/n) close her eyes and move her hands from his chest to his helmet. Din jerks away out of instinct. The female takes her hands from the cold metal with an expression full of regret. But then the mandalorian takes her small hands in his and takes off his helmet with (Y/n)s help.
Her eyes stay closed because she would never dare to hurt Dins trust. The mandalorian puts his helmet aside and while one of his hands pulls (Y/n) closer, the other caresses her neck. Her wet hair still feels soft against his fingers.
With happiness filling her whole body, (Y/n) grabs Dins face and starts to laugh with a few happy tears falling from her closed eyes. It‘s not the first time for her to touch his face but it feels magical every time.
Their foreheads and noses touch. And then finally, their lips meet in a passionate and fierce kiss. They can’t stop because the feeling of the other so close, is what makes them feel whole. Din never thought he would ever trust someone but here he is, kissing the person he loves the most.
“Marry me“, Din says between kisses and widens his eyes because he can‘t believe he just said that out loud. He is thinking about it every day but never really thought he would ask (Y/n).
Although (Y/n) is shocked, she doesn‘t open her eyes but stops kissing her lover. Silence fills the cave and the couple stops every movement – their foreheads still touching. Before Din can apologize, (Y/n)s lips lay on his once again.
And she whispers the word yes again and again – with so much love.
Warnings: talk about injuries and scars
A/N: Thinking about Frankie being shy, and possibly self-conscious of his scars.
Your finger traces along the puckered, light pink line across his cheek bone.
‘Just one more to memorize’
Frankie had a lot of scars. His limbs were littered with lines and marks. Monuments to his sacrifices, adventures, and even clumsiness. Some were new, some were from back way before you even knew him. Some had incredible stories attached to them, that made your side hurt from laughter. Some of them carried such close calls, you couldn’t deal with listening to them without feeling the floor fall from underneath you.
There was a fairly large. yet faded splotch on his knee from when his cousin accidentally knocked him off a bike. Whether or not the bike was made for a 7 year old and he was 16 was immaterial to the story. It hurt, and he ended up nearly getting gangrene from it. And he will remind you of it over and over again.
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UNDER CONSTRUCTION!!/ 14.8 billion years old. (jk I'm 25). she/her. welcome to my on fire garbage can blog! you're friendly neighborhood mom friend. I DON'T WRITE SMUT! I am absolutely horrid at that!
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